by CJ Morrow
‘What? You saved the best news until last. That’s amazing. It’s what you’ve always wanted. Congratulations.’ Tess leaned in and hugged Lily, who sat rigid and unresponsive. ‘What’s wrong?’
‘He had it with him that night at the restaurant. He says he was going to give it to me then, but when I got angry about him sodding off on holiday on his own, it killed the moment.’
‘And you dumped him.’
‘Yeah, and that.’
‘It’s good he’s given it to you though, isn’t it. Even if it’s later than he planned.’
‘It came in a little box. Like a ring box.’
‘Oooh.’
‘Yes, for a moment I thought…’
‘It’s still good,’ Tess hugged Lily again and this time Lily hugged her back.
It was good. It was. Even if it did come with strings attached. Even if it did mean that Lily was Will’s domestic slave and nurse. That’s what you did for the man you loved. Didn’t you? You looked after him.
‘So, when are you moving in? Have you decided yet? What will you do with your place?’
Lily poured another glass of wine. Was this her third? ‘I don’t think we’ve got to that stage quite yet.’ Nothing had been said about moving in. Nothing at all. In fact, the more Lily thought about it, the more she realised that nothing had been said about the future. The key had just been slid over. It was more a convenience for Will than an offer to Lily. It would save him getting up to answer the door, that was what he had said. ‘Early days,’ Lily said, tossing back the wine in her glass and laughing.
‘Still fab news. It’s a real leap forward in your relationship. Congratulations.’
Lily noticed Tess give the clock on the wall a furtive glance. Was their hour up already?
‘I’d better go before Gareth arrives.’ Lily stood up and snatched at her bag, but she was too late. She heard a key in the door and seconds later Gareth burst into the room, all beaming face and take-away carrier bags.
So he had a key.
Tess made introductions; Gareth smiled at Lily and shook her hand firmly while all the time staring at Tess with adoring puppy eyes, totally besotted.
‘I’m just leaving,’ Lily said, waving her handbag.
‘Why don’t you stay? There’s plenty,’ Gareth called as he made his way to the kitchen.
‘Love to. But I have to get round to Will’s and sort him out. Broken ankle. Ha.’ She laughed as she headed for the front door with Tess close behind.
‘Stay,’ Tess said. ‘Join us. I’d love you to get to know Gareth.’
‘I’m not playing gooseberry. Anyway, I really do have to get to Will’s. That’s why he’s given me the key.’
‘Okay. Another time. Maybe we could go out on a double date.’
‘Yeah. That would be nice.’
‘Lily, about that work thing, the Jackson doppelganger. Have a think about it. Maybe you’re just, you know…’ Tess’s voice trailed away.
‘Projecting. Yeah. I know. You’re probably right.’ Lily hiccupped and giggled.
‘Where’s your car? You’re not driving are you?’
‘It’s in the Co-op car park. I probably shouldn’t drive should I?’
‘Come back in, I’ll call you a taxi.’
That had been embarrassing, sitting at the dining table with Tess and Gareth, watching them eat while she waited for a taxi. Then arguing with Tess about seeing her off when it arrived because Lily felt she had already disturbed their evening enough. Joggling about in the back of the taxi and realising that drinking on an empty stomach wasn’t the best of ideas either.
‘Hi,’ Lily called as she let herself into Will’s house.
When there was no reply she assumed he was asleep upstairs. She glanced around the kitchen, dishes and debris stacking up. She rolled up her sleeves and began clearing up – a very sobering task. Twenty minutes later and she had finished, the kitchen looked good and she’d tidied the sofa and picked up the discarded motorcycling magazines and tidied them into a neat stack on the coffee table.
Upstairs there was still no sign of him. The bed hadn’t been slept in, unless he’d smoothed it out afterwards – highly unlikely. She wandered from room to room looking for him. He couldn’t have gone out. Could he?
Idly she glanced out of the window and down into his garden. There he was. Or, at least, there his foot was, propped up on a garden chair; the rest of him was out of sight.
‘Hi,’ Lily called again as she went out into the garden. She could hear Will laughing and assumed he was on the phone.
But he wasn’t.
‘Hey there, Lucy,’ the voice said as Lily appeared in the garden. ‘Good to see you again. How you doing?’ Giselle sat up on her sun lounger and beamed at Lily.
‘It’s Lily,’ Lily corrected. ‘I’m fine. How are you?’ Why was she even participating in this pretence?
‘I’m good. Great, in fact. I’ve had a swell afternoon with Will here and we’ve just laughed non-stop.’
‘Great,’ Lily said, trying not to sound peevish. ‘Will, I’ve cleared up the mess in the kitchen.’ Once she’d said it she could have kicked herself. With one stupid little sentence she’d managed to consign herself to the role of cleaning lady. And a martyred one too.
‘Thanks babe. What would I do without you?’
‘You seem to be managing okay.’ Lily turned to walk away before she said something too spiteful, too bitchy.
She heard Giselle’s voice say, ‘oh, oh,’ just as she reached the kitchen door. Bitch. Lily turned around to face her.
‘Will, I won’t stay over tonight, I’ve got such a lot on at work tomorrow and you know how you keep me up all night,’ Lily called, with the biggest, most fake grin on her face.
‘Sure babe,’ Will called back. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow.’ His next words were not audible but Giselle’s cackling laughter was. Lily seethed all the way out of his house – spectacular front door slam included – and up the drive to where her car would have been parked if only she had brought it. She felt so sober now that she probably could have driven it.
Will’s message arrived just as she’d wasted another ten pounds on the taxi ride home.
Hey, babe. Sorry about that. Giselle just turned up unannounced. You okay?
Well, that wasn’t getting an answer. Lily threw her phone onto the hall table, slammed her own front door, stomped through to the kitchen, yanked a new bottle of Pinot out of the fridge door, poured a glass, and marched through to her sitting room. She flopped down on the sofa and put her feet up. She heard a series of messages pinging away on her phone. Just turned up unannounced - how stupid did he think she was? Giselle couldn’t just turn up without Will giving her the address. Will could get lost; he would not be getting any replies tonight. He could stew in it.
She flipped the TV onto a loud music channel – that would drown out his pathetic message pleadings.
After her second glass of wine her stomach rumbled, reminding her that she still hadn’t eaten. She reached into the drawer beneath her coffee table and fished out a tube of Pringles. Okay, so they’d been there since Christmas, but what the hell.
Another glass of wine washed down the Pringles – the whole tube – and Lily’s eyes were feeling heavy. She had no idea what the time was or how long she’d sat on the sofa, but it was dark outside when she woke up.
Maybe she should just go to bed now. She had work in the morning and she really didn’t want to be late.
She picked her phone up from the hall table on her way upstairs – three messages. Three. Was that all? He had soon given up. She wasn’t going to reply but where was the harm in reading them?
She flicked through the messages; it wasn’t Will’s face that appeared, but Tess’s.
OMG I can’t believe it xx
The next message was accompanied by a photo of an elegant, large solitaire diamond ring nestling comfortably on Tess’s finger.
Gareth just proposed xxx
It had been sent an hour and a half earlier.
Lily hurriedly messaged back: OMG hun. Congrats! Congrats! So happy for you xxx
As she walked up the stairs she swallowed the bile of jealously back down. Lily knew it was too mean to begrudge Tess her happiness, and yet she did. They’d been together for mere weeks, no more than two months.
She’d been with Will for most of the last ten years.
Fifteen
‘It’s never a good idea to drink on a school night, Lily.’ Damon smirked at her across the office.
She mouthed ‘shush,’ and put her finger to her lips before turning her computer on and taking a sip of the cold water she’d poured herself before reaching her desk. How she needed that water, her mouth had felt dry and sore all the way in – in yet another taxi. She’d have to retrieve her car from the Co-op car park at lunchtime.
Damon did have a point though. What had she been thinking? She had drunk the best part of two bottles of wine. And all before she’d even known about Tess’s engagement. Well, that had been a shock – a whirlwind romance and probably doomed. Lily shook herself and made a mental note not to feel jealous; easier said than done.
‘You cold?’ Damon frowned at her.
‘No. Why?’
‘You just shuddered. Or is it the…’ he didn’t finish the sentence but mimed knocking a drink back.
‘Shush, don’t tell everyone.’ She put her finger to her lips again, then turned away to watch her emails loading up. There was one from HR Heather, a request to see Lily urgently. She clicked to open it.
Lily’s mouth dropped open and her eyes became saucer-like as she read the email. Damon, ever alert, was suddenly perching himself on her desk.
‘What’s wrong? You’ve gone quite white. You’re not,’ his voice dropped to a whisper. ‘Hungover?’
‘Stop it,’ she snapped. ‘I don’t do that to you when you’ve been out on the lash on a Thursday night. Do I?’
‘Suppose not.’ He said turning away.
‘Damon, come back. HR Heather says a complaint has been made against me and I’m to pop in at my earliest convenience.’
‘What sort of complaint?’
‘Doesn’t say.’
‘That’s a bit mean, just putting that in an email.’
‘Apparently she tried to ring me, but my phone was on voicemail.’ They both glanced at Lily’s desk phone, which was flashing rapidly indicating that a message was waiting.
Lily stood up and, sighing as well as feeling weary, headed for HR, which unfortunately was right next door to Cyril’s office.
‘Cyril’s not in today, if you’re expecting to see him.’ Veronica snapped without looking up.
‘I’m going to HR.’ Lily felt irritated at having to explain herself to Veronica.
‘Someone in there. Take a seat.’ Veronica waved her hand at the row of three chairs which constituted a waiting area.
‘I’ll come back later.’
‘I think you should wait; Heather needs to see you urgently.’
Lily slumped down onto a chair and wondered if nosy Veronica knew what the complaint was. Could it be that she had made it? Lily couldn’t think of any reason why Veronica would make a complaint, but who knew? Lately Lily’s world had gone so mad anything was possible.
Ten minutes passed and the door to HR remained firmly closed. Lily wished she’d brought her cold water with her.
‘Just getting a drink,’ she said, rising.
Veronica stopped working and looked over her glasses, her lips pursed and two deep frown lines appeared on her disapproving brow.
‘Cheeky bitch,’ Lily said once she was out of Veronica’s earshot.
‘Who is?’
‘Damon. Where were you lurking?’
‘Just getting a drink, same as you.’ He followed Lily into the office kitchen. ‘So, spill.’
‘Nothing to spill.’ Lily filled the kettle.
‘What did HR Heather want?’
‘I don’t know. I haven’t seen her yet.’
‘What have you been doing all this time? Don’t tell me; Scare-a-von made you wait.’
‘Mmm.’ Lily made herself a large cup of tea.
‘She did that to me once, when I needed to see Heather. Started interrogating me. You’re so right, she is a cheeky bitch.’ Damon giggled but Lily didn’t.
‘Well, she hasn’t interrogated me, which suggests she knows all about it, whatever it is.’
Lily plonked herself back down in Veronica’s waiting area and sipped her tea, marvelling at its restorative qualities. Finally finished, she stood up.
‘I’m not waiting any longer,’ she said, just as the door to HR burst open. Veronica arched an eyebrow and gave Lily a knowing look before dropping her attention back to her work.
Oliver Banstead slithered past her, a full width grin spread from ear to ear and his chest puffed out almost as far as his belly. He nodded to Lily as he passed and managed to fit in a quick pervy-peek down her cleavage.
Heather followed him out, a sense of urgency propelling her.
‘Hi, Lily. Just need to pop to the ladies. Do you want to wait for me in the office?’
‘Not really,’ Lily whispered to herself, as a startled Veronica lifted her head and her eyebrows.
The minutes ticked by while Lily waited for Heather in the tiny HR office that smelt of Oily Bastard’s stale fags tinged with rank, male sweat. Lily wished the windows opened; instead the air-con would circulate his stench for everyone to enjoy.
‘Sorry about the wait.’ Heather came into the room, breathless and carrying a steaming cup of coffee. ‘Been in here for over an hour. I was gasping.’
Lily forced a smile as Heather sat down, and Heather returned it. Both knew they were faking for the sake of politeness.
‘I’m sorry about the email; I did try to leave a message.’
‘That’s okay.’ Another fake smile.
‘There’s been a complaint.’ Heather stalled, she looked awkward.
‘So you said in your email.’
‘It’s quite a serious complaint.’
Lily waited to hear it.
‘It’s quite difficult for me to explain it. Or understand it.’ Heather paused again.
‘Perhaps if you tell me what the complaint is, I’ll be able to help.’
‘Yes, quite. There’s been a complaint made against you saying you used offensive and sexist language.’
‘Really?’
‘I’m afraid so.’
‘I know exactly who’s made that complaint and not just because he smirked and leered at me on his way out of here. That’s just hilarious.’
‘It’s not. It’s very serious. It’s a serious complaint. He says you called him,’ Heather glanced down at her notes, ‘an oily bastard.’
‘Did he tell you what he said to me? I was actually coming to see you today – well, it would have been yesterday if you’d been here – to make a complaint against him. Did he tell you he leered at me and focused on my chest while making a lewd suggestion about my shoes and barring my way?’
‘No. Do you have a witness?’ Heather sat forward in her chair.
‘Of course not. Does he?’ Lily felt confident he didn’t.
‘Yes, he does.’
‘Who?’
‘I can’t say.’
‘No doubt one of his lying cronies.’
‘We can’t assume his witness is a liar.’ Heather’s eyebrows rose up in indignation. ‘Oliver was very hurt by your comment.’
Lily laughed.
‘This really is no laughing matter. What you said was offensive.’
‘What he does is offensive. I only said it once; he leers and makes suggestive comments and innuendo all the time. He must have done it to you.’
‘No. He hasn’t.’ Heather shook her head and Lily wondered whether Heather was offended that Oily Bastard hadn’t leered at her.
‘He’s a cunning one.’ He was too clever to have his leering witnessed, God
knows, he’d had enough practice.
‘He wanted to take it to the top. To the board. Can you imagine how old Mr Benson would react if he heard that his best salesman has been subjected to such an insult? As Oliver has just reminded me himself, we do have to remember who brings the money in.’
Lily sighed and crossed her arms, a defensive action, she knew.
‘Fortunately, I’ve persuaded him – and it took quite some time – to accept an apology from you.’
‘I’m not apologising.’
‘If you apologise, he will drop it.’
‘I’m not apologising. Let’s take it to the top. I’ll tell them all about him and his disgusting behaviour. I can’t be the only woman to have complained.’
‘But Lily,’ Heather leaned towards Lily. ‘You could lose your job. What you said was offensive.’
‘I won’t apologise. What I said is true. Heather, even you must know that everyone calls him Oily Bastard.’
‘I… I don’t.’
‘Take it to the top. Let’s do it.’
Now it was Heather’s turn to sigh. ‘If you’re sure. Absolutely sure. Who knows how this will turn out? And you haven’t even denied it. It could end badly for you.’
‘I’m not denying it. And I am sure.’ What the hell.
‘The first step is to see Mr Montgomery-Jones. I’ll get Veronica to check his schedule.’
It would be him; it would be that damn doppelganger.
Lily suppressed a sigh and shrugged. ‘Okay.’
Lily really didn’t want to have this conversation with Cyril, even though there was no reason to suppose that he would be on Oliver Banstead’s side. Or was there? Hadn’t Heather just pointed out that he was the top salesman and wouldn’t any financial director value that? Would she have if she’d now been the finance director? It could be the answer to Cyril’s dilemma when choosing between her and Damon. It could be a decider. Maybe she should just apologise.
No.
She wouldn’t.
Someone had to stand up to him. Someone had to speak up for all the women who had to put up with Oily Bastard’s daily leering. He’d got away with it for far too long.