The whole place had filled up since my arrival, and with my hand in his, we weaved through the crowds in much the same way as we had the last time I’d been here. This time though, I wasn’t as unsure. This time, I knew what to expect.
Before long, we were pushing through a black set of double doors into a dark corridor. Doug flicked a light on and let go of my hand as he unlocked another door to our right. It opened up into a plush office: a mahogany desk spread along the back and two leather couches were positioned in front of a huge matching coffee table. He threw his keys down and rounded his desk, sitting in his chair and reaching into his desk drawer. I stood, swaying a little, as my eyes flitted over the shelves of files, the closed door to the left, the huge window that looked out across the bay and then back at Doug.
He held his arm out, indicating for me to sit down, and so I did. I walked warily towards the chair opposite him.
“You look worried. Don’t look worried. I don’t bite. Well, not unless you ask me to.” The corner of his mouth lifted into a sly smile, and the reckless side of me took stock of him once again.
“So. The Release.” He leaned back in his chair and linked his fingers across his chest. “How about you come and work for me?”
I blinked a few times, the alcohol in my blood slowing everything down a little. “Work for you like Jack works for you?”
He shook his head and leaned forwards, sliding a piece of paper across his desk at me. I reached out and took it, my eyes taking a moment to focus on the words. It was a flyer. Bright blue lettering on black with images of the inside and outside of the club shouted, “We Need You.” I glanced up at him.
“Work here. At the club.”
My eyes flitted back to the glossy circular in my hand and in particular to the speech bubble that promised competitive rates. “Doing what?”
Doug stood up and rounded his desk before perching on the edge of it facing me. “You’re a good looking girl, Syra, and I need more good looking girls to work my bar. I need to attract more punters, and girls who look good encourage them to come back.”
I looked up at him. “That’s a rather sexist attitude, don’t you think?”
He smirked. “Darlin’, we live in a sexist society. Sex sells. So sue me.”
I let out a sigh. “I already have a job.”
“At the supermarket. Yeah. You enjoy it?”
I shrugged. “It’s a job. It pays me.”
“I’ll pay you more.”
“I don’t need paying more.”
An incredulous laugh huffed out of his chest. “Everyone likes to be paid more. I’ll double your wages. Triple them if that’s what it takes.”
I swallowed. Money wasn’t something I’d ever thought much about. When I was a child, we’d had everything. We’d been the Joneses. People had tried to keep up with us, but Dad had never flaunted it. He’d never taught me to love money, so it had never mattered to me. However, Jack was gone. I was on my own, and I’d likely need to look for somewhere new once Doug got wind of everything. Perhaps more money was a sensible idea. But could working for Doug be considered the same?
“What hours would you want me here?”
He stood and walked back to his chair, lifting more papers out of his drawer. “You’d need to be here by six pm to help set up. You’d work until two am during the week and four am at weekends.”
“Breaks?”
“Breaks are scheduled depending on the length of the shifts.”
“And I’d be a barmaid? Serving drinks?”
“Yep.”
I nodded. “Can I think about it?”
“Sure you can, princess. Give me a call in a day or two and let me know.”
I stood and walked towards the door with him following me. He guided me back out into the main club room, his hand in the small of my back, and as he turned to leave me to my own devices, he pushed his mouth to the shell of my ear. “I’ll be sure to make it worth your while.”
I watched him stroll away with self-importance on his back, and I bit down on my lip.
What the hell are you doing?
Blinking a few times, I walked cautiously over to the bar to order another gin. A young girl, probably the same age as me, was pulling a pint of beer for a guy, who stood a little further down the bar. She wore the same uniform as the others—white shirt and black bow tie—except this time I noticed that her shirt was unbuttoned to her navel and the black bow-tie was casually slung around her neck, untied. I glanced up and down the bar, and all the women were the same.
“What can I get you?”
My head whipped back towards her. “Um, yeah. G&T please. Ice.”
She nodded and turned her back to me to grab the bottle and a glass. As she faced me again, I leaned over the bar. “How long have you worked here?”
“Three months.”
“You enjoy it?”
She shoved the glass under the tonic tap and nodded. “It’s good fun.”
I nodded to her chest. “You don’t mind dressing, y’know, like that?”
She shrugged. “Nah. It’s just flesh. We’ve all got tits. Besides, it attracts good tips.” She grinned at me as she slid my glass over. “Five ninety, love.”
I handed her a tenner, my last tenner, and she took it from me, grabbing the key card that hung by her hip on a string, swiping to unlock the till.
“You thinking of working here then?” She handed me my change and folded her arms on the top of the bar.
I dropped my head to tuck my money back into my purse and smiled tightly. “Maybe.”
“You want me to get you an application form?”
I shook my head. “It’s… it’s okay. I kinda know the boss.”
Her eyes widened. “You know Doug? Lucky bitch.” She rested her chin in the palm of her hand. “He’s hot as shit.”
I sipped on my drink and let my eyes wander around the place before they landed back on her face. “Does he treat you right? I mean…”
“I haven’t needed to complain yet, but I don’t really have anything to do with him to be honest. The bar managers look after us and make sure everything runs smoothly. Doug turns up now and again to make sure everyone is doing their job right, I guess. You should go for it.” She smiled genuinely at me and stood straight. “Best get on. I’ll maybe see you around.”
I smiled back and nodded, watching her sway her hips towards a group of twenty-something men who jeered and whistled as she flipped her hair and leaned over the bar as they spoke their orders close to her ear. I looked on as they ogled her arse and told her to keep the change, the whole idea not seeming so bad at all.
“When can you start?”
The familiar gruff voice of Doug at my ear made me jump, and I spun to face him. “Jesus.”
He slung his arm around my shoulder and grinned. “Welcome to The Release.”
Syra
B a noBody by SOAK
THE EMPTINESS OF our house didn’t hit me until I returned home that evening. It was in complete darkness and stuff was missing. Jack’s shoes weren’t on the rack, his coats weren’t on the hook, and upon entering the living room, now void of him completely, I sank to the floor and cried.
I’d kept him at arms’ length, and in the process, I’d locked him out. I couldn’t blame anyone but myself, but that didn’t stop it from hurting like a bitch. Everyone I cared for was gone, and as much as I tried to pretend I didn’t care that Jack had joined the list, I couldn’t. I’d kept him out of my heart for this very reason—so it wouldn’t hurt when he eventually left me, something I’d convinced myself was inevitable—but of course he’d always been in my heart. I cared too damn much about him and had been too stubborn to let him see just how much.
I manoeuvered myself to the sofa and pulled out my phone, scrolling through my contacts until I found his name. I didn’t hesitate before hitting it and lifting my phone to my ear.
It rang four times before clicki
ng to voicemail: This is Jack. Leave your name and number and I’ll get back to you.
I swallowed down as the beep sounded and then closed my eyes. What the hell would I say? What the hell could I say? He’d made it very clear he didn’t want to be around me anymore. I dragged the phone down my cheek and hung up, slumping back into the sofa and closing my eyes.
Swiping at the tears that continued to fall, I thought back to Doug’s offer. I didn’t trust him at all, but according to the barmaid, he wasn’t around much anyway. Maybe a change of routine would help me to put this bullshit behind me and give me something else to focus on. Maybe a new start would do me good.
I opened my messages and began to type.
I’ll need to work my notice at the supermarket but I’ll be in touch. Syra.
I watched it change from ‘delivered’ to ‘read’ and then the three little dots flickering right before Doug’s reply appeared.
That’s my girl.
***
Straddling Liam in his office chair two days later, his fingers digging into my thighs and his head thrown back as I rode him, I told him I was quitting.
His head snapped forwards, a mixture of ecstasy and confusion etched in his features. “What?”
I continued to rock back and forth, keeping him distracted enough to not lose his shit. I nuzzled under his ear and bit his lobe. “I’ve got a new job.” I sped up, watching as he hissed through his teeth with his eyes squeezed tightly shut. “I’ll be giving you my two weeks notice today.”
“Shit, Syra. Fuck.” His body jerked and his hands gripped me tighter as he emptied himself and I climbed off, stepping back into my leggings as he tied a knot in the condom. “Since when?” He stood, chucking it in the bin and doing up his suit trousers. “And where?”
I turned to face him, slipping my arms into my bra but not before he yanked me to him, his mouth finding my breast.
“Liam, stop.”
“You’re my best worker, Sy.” He swirled his tongue around my nipple and pulled me flush against his crotch by my arse. “You can’t walk out on me. Also…” His hand moved around and ran up my leg and to the apex of my thighs. “This.”
“Jesus. You’ve just had me. Give it a minute will you.” I pushed at his naked chest and he laughed. “I’m sorry, but I’ve made my mind up. I’ve already agreed, and you can’t talk me out of it.”
“Two weeks, huh?” He shrugged his shirt on, neglecting to button it, and slumped into his office chair, waking his computer up with a tap to the space bar.
“Yep. I’ll leave the letter on your desk tonight.” I pulled my work T-shirt on and slipped into my Vans before heading towards the door.
“I’ll wait for you in here then. We will need to fit in as many fucks as we can before you go. I’ll tell the missus I’m working late.” He winked and I rolled my eyes, making my way back to the shop floor and the checkout where I’d be spending the next five hours due to having no staff.
For a Saturday afternoon, it didn’t end up being that busy, and the hours dragged with every beep of the barcodes. By the end of lunchtime, the decision I’d made to leave had settled nicely into my conscience, and in the lull before the next burst of customers, I unlocked my phone and began to search for places to rent.
I had no idea what my hourly rate was going to be, but he’d mentioned three times what I was being paid at the moment, which meant I could afford somewhere a little nicer—somewhere with an ocean view instead of an alleyway.
In the middle of my daydream, a text message from my mother came through.
Hey baby girl. Can I see you? Mum x
I sighed heavily and shot back my reply.
At work. Talk later.
I lifted my head and smiled at the young mother who was unloading her shopping onto the converyorbelt. “Hey. Can I help you with your packing?”
“Oh, God, would you mind? I’m having a nightmare day.”
I smiled again. “Sure.” Pulling a carrier bag from the rack, I began scanning her shopping and depositing each item carefully inside the bag, leaving the eggs and bread until last. “Do you have a rewards card?” I glanced back up again as I put the last item through and out of the corner of my eye caught the sight of my mum, twitching and approaching me nervously.
“Fuck.”
“I beg your pardon?” The woman frowned at me and glanced at her toddler.
“I’m sorry. That’s thirty-six pounds and twenty-seven pence, please. Would you like your receipt?”
“Yes. Please. Look, I’m going to have to report this. It’s really not acceptable for members of staff to be swearing around the customers, let alone small children.” She glanced at my name badge and I clenched my jaw. “I’m sorry.”
I closed my eyes as my mother reached my checkout lane.
“I need some money.”
My eyes flew open and I spoke to her through gritted teeth. “Go. Home.”
“I’m desperate, Sy. Please. Can I have some money to see me through the day?”
I glanced apologetically again at the customer, who was shoving things back into her handbag in an obvious rush to dob me in, before abandoning my post and moving around the front. Grabbing my mother by the elbow, I hurried her away from the hushed whispers and prying eyes that were beginning to take notice of the fuss at my till.
“Syra. Please.”
“Shut up, mother. Seriously. Shut up.” I marched her down the length of the store until she halted, yanking away from me, causing me to spin around and grab for her again.
She moved out of my grasp. “Get your hands off me.” Her voice was shrill and loud. Really fucking loud.
I shoved my face in hers, my hands balled into tight fists at my side. I whispered my words so only she could hear them, but I was acutely aware of the stares that were waiting to see what would happen next. “Get outside now, so help me God.”
She was like a rabbit in headlights: startled and unsure. Her fingers were shaking and the only word that sprung to mind when I looked at her was ‘volatile’. She looked like she was about to blow, and I wasn’t quite sure where the mess would land.
“Mum.” I reached out again and tried to take her hand, but she pulled back, her eyes flitting anywhere and everywhere but my face.
“I need money, Syra. You need to get me some money.” Desperation shone from her eyes, and her voice was still loud as if she wasn’t even aware of where she was or who else was listening.
“All okay?”
I glanced at Andy, who had appeared beside me. “Fine. Leave us please.”
He shoved his hands in his pockets, stepping to the side a little, and as he did, Mum darted. She ran towards my till and I was too slow. Within seconds she had opened the gate and was rifling around the checkout, pulling out folders and pens and anything else. “I need money, Syra. Please. Let me have money.”
“Duty manager to checkout five please. Duty manager to checkout five.” Susan’s voice rang out around the store and my heart picked up its pace.
Fuck.
“Mum. I’ll get you some fucking money; get out of there. Now.” I manouevred her out of the checkout as I saw Liam rounding the corner of aisle eight, the complaining mother by his side, a look of thunder on his face. I stood back and pinched the bridge of my nose as I waited for him to reach us, allowing my mother to search fruitlessly for money. “It’s all locked up, Mum. You’re wasting your time.” My voice was weary. I was weary. I wanted the ground to swallow me whole.
Within five minutes, my mum had been escorted off the premises by security, and I was bouncing my leg up and down in a chair in Liam’s office.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t think she’d turn up at my fucking work.”
He paced back and forth before slamming his hands down on the arms of the chair and pushing his face into mine. “Do you realise how embarrassing this is? Jesus Christ, Syra. I’ve got apologies to make and reports to write now thanks to this shi
t.”
I leaned further back in my chair to get away from him. “I said I was sorry.”
“Sorry doesn’t fix fuck all though, does it.” He stood and shoved his hands in his pockets. “Anyway. Since when did you have a junkie mother?”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “What?”
He shrugged. “I didn’t realise.”
“Well there you have it.” I stood up to leave, pulling out the letter that I’d promised to deliver and sliding it onto his desk.
“What’s that?”
“My resignation letter.”
He laughed. “Sy, I’m sorry. I can’t have you here and risk that happening again. I—”
“You’re shitting me, right?”
“I’m going to have to let you go.”
A laugh huffed out of my chest and I hung my head. “Liam. Please. This is my only job. I can’t—”
“Sorry.”
“Please, Liam. I promise she won’t come anywhere near the place again. Let me work these next two weeks.”
He turned away from me and busied himself at his desk. “Clean your locker out, Syra. You’ve worked your last shift.”
***
This is Jack. Leave your name and number and I’ll get back to you.
“Fuck you, Jack!” My voice screeched across the beach as I threw my phone at my feet. The salty air stung my face where the tears were leaving tracks on my skin. I dragged my feet across the sand and found the pier, fully intending to stay there all night.
Was I destined to be punched in the gut by life at every fucking opportunity?
Fuck Liam.
Fuck my mother.
Fuck Jack.
My dreads whipped around my face as I stared out to sea, watching the gulls swoop and dip on the wind, searching for food, knocking each other away to find what they were looking for. There were no boats today. The choppy waves crashed and rain threatened to fall from the darkening clouds above me, but I remained glued to my lonely spot. I had no desire to move, no desire to return to the house I’d shared with him. I needed to scream at my mum, to slap her, to shake her and blame her, but I had no desire to do that either.
Too Good Girl Page 9