Afternoon Tea at the Sunflower Café

by Milly Johnson

  Next Connie unwrapped the filing cabinet and put that together and the new flat-packed office chair. She filled the desk drawers with the reams of paper and stationery items which she had bought from Staples and took out the new printer from the box, ready to hook up to her new laptop, then she set some empty files on the resident shelves. Everything was fresh and new in this office from the furniture to the pens.

  Standing back to admire her handiwork before she locked up, she was suddenly gripped by a fierce panic. What on earth was she doing? What the hell was she starting? A stern voice was stabbing its index finger into her brain, causing her to doubt her own sanity. If she carried on with this, she wouldn’t be able to stop, it warned her. Was she really sure she could take all this on? People’s livelihoods were going to be at stake. What if she poached staff promising them the world and then her business failed?

  Connie shook her head as if to jiggle some sense to the forefront. She couldn’t allow herself to prioritise the welfare of the cleaners above all else. What she hadn’t said to Della was that she hadn’t thought any further forward than destroying Jimmy’s business. Della and the cleaning women of Diamond Shine were merely a bunch of strangers to her and, though it went against her usual caring personality, she wouldn’t give precedence to their needs over what she had to do. Connie had to keep her goal firmly in her mind. Her jaw hardened in determination as she pictured herself delivering a speech of victory over the destroyed form of her soon-to-be-ex-husband. For once, Connie was going to put her own interests first.

  Afterwards she drove across town, past the sprawling Ketherwood estate, through Elsecar and then onto the industrial estate where the office of Diamond Shine was situated. It was exactly five o’clock when she arrived and Della was switching off the lights. Usually she stayed until at least half-past, but not any more. Her goodwill days were over.

  ‘I was just about to ring you,’ said Della. ‘I didn’t know whether to drop this off at your house or not.’ She held up a blue cardboard file. ‘There’s all the information in there that you’ll need to start crippling Diamond Shine.’

  Connie noticed the slight reticence in handing it over.

  ‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘I appreciate it. I’ll make a start ringing around in the morning. I’ve been setting up the new office.’

  Della was impressed. ‘You’ve moved in already?’

  ‘I’ve paid the bond and the rent so the estate agent handed over the key.’

  Della blew out her cheeks. Things were moving fast. ‘So, how do you think you’ll react when you see Jimmy tonight?’

  Connie gave a humourless laugh. ‘I don’t have a clue.’

  She knew that Della thought she would crumble and so she added, ‘But don’t think I’ll collapse into a useless heap, if that’s what you mean. I have no idea what I’ll be like when I see him again, but I can assure you that I won’t be falling into his arms and begging him not to leave me.’

  Della looked at the frumpy woman in front of her in the awful coat and tried to reconcile her with the Boudicca-type fighting talk and found it impossible. Connie didn’t strike her as the strong type and though her initial anger might hold her up for a few hours, she would more than likely crack up in no time and this was all going to end horribly, she knew it. What the hell had she been thinking of agreeing to this mad plan? She wanted to grab that file back and destroy it. She wanted to lock up the doors to Diamond Shine and run off away from anyone who had a connection with the place. Oh God!

  Connie noticed the box of chocolates on Della’s desk.

  ‘Are those for me?’

  ‘Yes. No doubt Jimmy will pick them up from here on his way home. That’s what he usually does.’

  The ribbon around them was the colour of bile.

  ‘I’ll be in touch,’ said Connie, turning to go. ‘Good luck in the morning. Let me know how it goes and I’ll let you know how tonight goes, though I can tell you now really. Jimmy will come in, present me with the box of chocolates, sit at the table and eat the meal I have prepared for him, then he will yawn, say he is very tired and we will go to bed. He will stay on his side and I will stay on mine until the alarm goes off at seven, when I will get up, make him poached eggs on toast and he will drive here. Sometimes he even remembers to say goodbye to me, but not always.’ She was smiling as she was talking, but her tone was one of sadness.

  The two women walked out to their cars together and drove off in opposite directions. Seeing Jimmy again face to face was something neither of them was looking forward to, although there was a tiny rebellious part of them that couldn’t wait and was beckoning, ‘bring it on.’

  Chapter 16

  Connie checked the clock on the oven to see that it was exactly nine thirty p.m. Just after she turned the oven heat down before the home-made shepherd’s pie was cremated, she saw the gleam of headlamps slice through the Venetian blinds at the kitchen window and she felt a kick of adrenaline. This is where it all really begins, she thought: the pretence, the deception, the game-playing – all things that were alien to her, but she’d have to learn to master the art of them fast if she were to survive. She shook the sudden attack of anxiety pins and needles out of her hands and pasted on a welcoming smile in readiness for the appearance of her lying, cheating git of a husband. Within the minute he had appeared at the back door, dragging his suitcase with one hand and carrying the large box of chocolates with the sickly green ribbon in the other.

  ‘I’m home,’ he called, full-beam grin plastered over his face. ‘Bloody traffic. Articulated lorry jack-knifed and there was only one lane open on the motorway out of Hampshire.’

  Hearing his lies made it easier to be strong and keep hold of that fortifying anger and, ironically at this moment, she was grateful for them.

  ‘So, how’s my best girl then?’ Jimmy said, dumping his suitcase on the floor, then he pulled Connie close with his free arm and stamped a kiss on the top of her head. ‘I brought you these. Hampshire’s finest. I had to drive all over the place to find them, but I know how you love your chocolate. Rose creams, your favourite as well. I couldn’t have come home without them.’

  He handed over the box which Connie took from his hands with a fake delighted smile.

  ‘These look pricey.’

  Jimmy waved the expense away with a flap of his hand. ‘So what,’ he said. ‘Only the best for you. That smells good. Shepherd’s pie, is it?’

  Connie tilted her head to one side and made sure that Jimmy noticed she was studying him. ‘Yep. You’re nice and tanned, Jimmy. Was it sunny?’

  ‘Naw. Pissed it down on Saturday so Pookie and I hit the spa and had a spray tan. I think they used too dark a shade,’ smiled Jimmy, his teeth looking artificially white against the brown of his skin.

  He was so smooth with his lies, thought Connie. He had probably been practising that line on the plane. She wondered if Ivanka would be sun-kissed too.

  ‘I’m going to go up to change into my trackies. Be a love and pour me a beer, Con. I didn’t stop at any motorway services and I’m parched.’

  ‘Course I will,’ Connie said. ‘Dinner will be served up by the time you come down.’

  Jimmy smiled. ‘That sounds perfect.’ He stretched out his arms and yawned. ‘It’s surprisingly tiring playing golf and talking business,’ he said, lifting up his suitcase and walking wearily across the kitchen towards the staircase. ‘But I think we covered a lot of ground. We have got plans.’

  ‘Well done you,’ said Connie, her smile dropping as he turned his back. She had plans too. He didn’t know what they were yet, but he soon would. She threw the chocolates down onto the table with disgust and opened the oven door.

  Chapter 17

  ‘You’re very brown,’ said Della the next morning, studying Ivanka in much the same way that Connie had looked at her husband the night before.

  ‘My cousin has sun-bed,’ said Ivanka, flicking a shank of long blonde hair behind her shoulder. ‘She said it would do me go
od. It makes vitamin D in the body.’

  ‘I’ll have to get one myself.’ Della let loose a light trill of laughter as she picked up the empty water bottle from Ivanka’s desk. ‘You look as if you’ve been abroad.’

  ‘I wish,’ said Ivanka, with a small sniff. Della had to admire her composure. Ivanka didn’t even flinch when she hovered near to the truth.

  ‘Some more water?’ asked Della. Ivanka never drank tea or coffee, only bottles of sparkling water which took up most of the small kitchen fridge. She had been at work an hour so far but hadn’t offered to make tea for Della. Any other time and Della would have nudged her with a request, but not today. There was mischief in her heart.

  ‘Yes,’ said Ivanka, whilst stapling two sheets of paper together.

  If she thinks I’m setting a precedent by turning into the drinks-lady she can think again, thought Della. But now in the light of all sorts of new information, Della could see why Ivanka had been acting more and more imperiously every day.

  As Della was bringing in the mug of tea and a bottle of water, Jimmy was just arriving.

  ‘Morning girls,’ he said, his white smile bright against his David Dickinson tan.

  ‘Morning,’ replied Della, plastic smile pulled out of the bag. She watched Ivanka giving him one of her nods and the usual mumbled greeting. And to think that Della had interpreted that as a sign that Ivanka had no liking for the man. Oh they’d been clever; they both could have won Oscars for their acting.

  ‘Another one with a tan,’ Della remarked.

  ‘Well, I don’t know about Ivanka’s, but mine came out of a bottle,’ said Jimmy, turning to her and asking, ‘Are you feeling better now?’

  ‘Yes, thank you,’ she said. No emotion, no hint they were anything more than boss and office junior.

  ‘You should get out more,’ he said. ‘I feel marvellous playing golf for a few days and filling my lungs up to the top with fresh air.’

  Ivanka flashed him a polite smile and returned to her stapling. God they were good. No wonder that Della had never guessed what was going on under her nose.

  ‘I’ll bring you a cup of coffee through, Jimmy,’ Della said, returning to the kitchen and slyly peering through the viewing slit between door and jamb. She waited for a single telling glance to pass between them, but nothing. They clearly weren’t risking the slightest chance that they could be caught. She had worked in offices since she was sixteen and knew that the tiniest gesture could set tongues wagging. Those careless little faux pas were always the undoing of couples who were having affairs.

  Ivanka had gone to the loo and Jimmy was in his office when Della breezed back with a mug of coffee and a small plate of biscuits for the boss.

  ‘So, you enjoyed your weekend away, did you? Did Connie like her chocolates?’ said Della.

  ‘Oh yes. I expect there won’t be any left by the time I get home,’ said Jimmy. ‘She does like her sweet stuff does old Connie. Mind you, how could you not like chocolates at that price? Brownie points for those, Del. Oh, I’ll possibly be going to Edinburgh next month. Do a bit of research into any chocolate shops up there will you, my love.’

  ‘Of course, Jimmy.’

  ‘And when Ivana, sorry Ivanka, silly bloody name, comes back from whatever she’s doing, can you send her in here. I want to dictate a couple of letters.’

  ‘Certainly,’ said Della, smiling her sweetest, as she shut the door behind her.

  *

  Connie paid over the odds for her new business cards, but they were ready in record time and she was very, very pleased with them when she picked them up from Clough & Sons printers on the outskirts of town. They were printed on thick card, solid black no-nonsense font on gold, with rounded corners: they smacked of quality without being tacky.

  Lady Muck

  Reliable, Trustworthy Staff

  Any price beaten, any job bettered.

  You’ll wonder how you lived without us!

  Tel: 07965 320941

  She was keen to get straight down to work then. Not that she was sure where to start – did she set cleaners on first or ring the existing clients of Diamond Shine and present an altogether superior service? She tried to remember back years ago to when she and Jimmy had first set up Diamond Shine. They hadn’t had a computer then; Connie and her mother had trudged for hours dropping leaflets through letterboxes trying to round up both clients and cleaners. In those days there had been far more cleaners out there than clients. She had interviewed the girls in their homes so she could be certain of their standards and left the schmoozing of the clients to Jimmy. She had enjoyed working at Diamond Shine when every client gained was a massive cause for celebration. She remembered how she and Jimmy had danced around the room when he landed a contract for a large office block which would need four cleaners once a week for four hours. Then Connie fell pregnant and Jane came along and Jimmy’s mum was ill so Connie had to juggle lots of balls in the air until it became impossible and she’d had to pass her job on to a series of assistants, none of whom Jimmy seemed to gel with until Della came along. The thing was that Connie could never have realised how good Della was at her job because she had been led to believe that they were hanging on to their business by the fingernails, not rich enough to bathe in asses’ milk.

  ‘Why are you setting someone else on if things are so bad?’ she’d asked, when Jimmy hired Ivanka.

  ‘Because a bit of fresh blood might help rev things up,’ he’d explained. ‘You know when you have an old dog and it’s flagging? Well, you get a young pup in and the old dog starts to perk up; so, I thought I’d give that a try.’

  ‘And what if the “old dog” doesn’t perk up?’ Connie had asked.

  ‘Well, you shoot it,’ Jimmy had replied.

  ‘You’re not going to shoot Della, are you?’

  ‘Don’t be daft,’ he’d laughed. ‘If she doesn’t perk up, I’ll let her go. But she has been with me for fifteen years. What sort of bastard would I be if I didn’t give her the chance to redeem herself? She was shit-hot in her prime and there is such a thing as loyalty.’

  And Connie had swallowed it hook, line and sinker.

  She decided she would open Della’s secret file and then plunge into the waters head first and see where the tides took her.

  *

  Della picked up the phone and dialled the number on the notepad in front of her.

  ‘Hello,’ came a coarse voice down the receiver. Della shuddered. She couldn’t actually believe what she was about to do. It went against every grain she had.

  ‘Is that Lesley Clamp? This is Della Frostick from Diamond Shine.’

  ‘Oh aye.’

  ‘I’m just ringing to say that we would like to offer you a job if you are still interested.’

  ‘Reight. When do I start?’

  ‘Maybe in a couple of weeks. I’ll ring you back when I have clients in place for you. Is that okay?’

  ‘S’pose.’

  I’m offering you a job, woman, not trying to take out your liver, thought Della at the woman’s monosyllabic miserable response.

  ‘I’ll be in touch.’

  ‘As tha’ got any more jobs going? Me nieces Alaska and Nepal want one.’

  Della raised her eyes heavenward. Alaska and Nepal Clamp on the payroll along with Auntie Lesley would be totally unthinkable. Absolutely preposterous. At least it would be unthinkable if she had to deal with them on a weekly basis, but by then she’d be long gone.

  ‘Yes. If you give me their telephone numbers, I’m sure there will soon be vacancies for them too.’

  Della took down the numbers and fought the urge to growl. It stuck in her craw to set people on such as anyone with Clamp in their name, because she knew they’d be total nightmares from the off. Just as Ruth Fallis was.

  Della took the file out of her drawer labelled ‘Rejections’, removed all the contents and put them back in a new file, along with Alaska and Nepal Clamp’s telephone numbers. Then she wrote on it in very large
black letters which couldn’t be missed, ‘Priority list of potential cleaners.’ If ever a firm deserved cleaners such as Ruth Fallis and the Clampettes, it was Diamond Shine, thought Della, trying not to smirk.

  Chapter 18

  Connie sat at her new desk with a coffee and Della’s file under a heavy, black cloud of self-doubt. Women whose husbands were shagging their staff went to the solicitors and started divorce proceedings; they didn’t throw away an inheritance on setting up a rival company. What the hell was she doing? Was she totally crackers? She reached down for her purse to retrieve Tom Stamp’s business card. She’d ring him and make a hypothetical enquiry about what would happen if she decided that she didn’t want the office after all. It was in the pocket at the back with her credit cards and a couple of small photos she always kept with her: Jane’s school photo, a grainy black and white one of herself and Jimmy as teenage sweethearts, and the one she was holding now – Jane as a baby being held by Connie’s mum, Janet, and standing next to them was her formidable auntie Marilyn with her hourglass figure and her bleach-blonde hair. Connie picked it up and stared hard at it. She knew the feisty pair would be willing her to stop being a wet lettuce and get her shoulder to the bloody grindstone. She propped the photo up against a stapler just as she knew their image would prop her up in turn in her weaker moments. Next she wriggled off her wedding ring because here, at work, she wasn’t Mrs Connie Diamond, she was either Lady Muck or Marilyn Smith and neither of them was weighed down by a useless marriage.

  Right, let’s do it.

  She filled up her lungs to capacity with a deep breath and stabbed the first number on Della’s ‘potential list’ into her mobile phone. It was answered almost immediately by a youthful female voice.

  ‘Hello, Dartley Carpets, how can we help you?’