Five minutes before the working day finished, Eleanor was congratulating herself on a very successful day. She had delivered countless cups of coffee, photocopied hundreds of memos and distributed them — the computers having apparently died and gone to electrical heaven — and had avoided Max Charming into the bargain.
Of course, she should have known her luck would run out. Just as she pressed the button for the elevator, she heard the unwelcome voice of the very man she was trying to avoid. She looked over her shoulder and spotted him walking towards the elevator with Gerry. They were deep in conversation and hadn’t spotted her yet. Willing the elevator doors to open, Eleanor closed her eyes and took a deep breath,
“Eleanor! Where have you been? I haven’t seen you all day!” said Gerry in his usual cheery manner.
The elevator “dinged” and the doors opened.
“Sorry, Mr. Lomax, have to run! Bus to catch!”
Eleanor rushed into the elevator and pressed the first button she saw. The doors swiftly closed, and Eleanor slumped against the walls gratefully.
Then she felt a tugging sensation at her arm. Before she knew it, her jacket was whipped from her fingers and became jammed in the elevator doors. Then the alarms sounded.
Eleanor groaned. She was stuck.
• • •
It was an hour before Eleanor was rescued. An hour in which she paced the confined area of the elevator floor continually. An hour in which she alternated between banging her head against her fist, and calling herself all kinds of fools. By the time the doors opened, Eleanor’s already frizzy hair had turned into an Afro, and her cheeks were as red as her T-shirt.
“Yours, I believe,” said the voice that Eleanor was coming to detest. She snatched her jacket from Charming’s hand and glared at him.
“What are you still doing here?” she growled, forgetting for a moment that she was speaking to her boss.
“I was waiting for the elevator to be fixed. As the boss, I have to take these kinds of things very seriously. I couldn’t leave without making sure a member of my staff was uninjured.”
Eleanor checked for signs of sarcasm, but Charming’s face was a picture of sincerity. Although she thought she saw an inkling of amusement lurking in the depths of his blue eyes. Maybe she was mistaken.
“Well, I’m fine, as you can see. Can’t say the same for my jacket, though.”
“Maybe you’ll think twice before rushing into an elevator next time, hmm?”
“Er, yes. Um, night then.”
Charming nodded at her and walked away, leaving Eleanor free to poke out her tongue at his back.
By the time Eleanor reached her cozy little home, she was seeing the funny side of things. Usually she was the least clumsy person around, yet on the two occasions when she had been in the vicinity of Charming, she had turned into a complete klutz.
Bloody typical, she thought with a frown. If things keep going the way they’re going, I’ll be fired by the end of next week.
Chapter Three
Thankfully, Eleanor had the weekend to recover from her latest catastrophe, and she used it wisely. Well, as wisely as most other people in her position would use it. She rented half a dozen classic movies, stocked up on wine and chocolates, and ordered a pizza three nights in a row. She also took the precaution of ignoring the phone and letting the answering machine do its job for once.
She didn’t know whether to be pleased or disappointed when the red light refused to illuminate throughout the whole weekend.
Monday morning arrived, and brought with it a renewed determination to prove her worth to the troublesome Max Charming. Unfortunately, it also brought a fresh breakout of pimples across her chin, courtesy of the recent pizza and chocolate overdose.
“I could play dot-to-dot on these,” she sighed, as she was contemplating whether to use foundation or not. This was always a tricky decision; on the one hand, foundation would cover the worst of the pimply mess that currently covered half of her chin, but on the other hand, if she used foundation, said pimply mess would take longer to clear up.
“Maybe I’ll just wear a polo-neck today. If I huddle into the collar, do you think anyone would notice?” she asked Muse, who was playing with one of Eleanor’s lipsticks on the vanity table. Muse paused in her kitty antics and pricked her ears.
“Meow.”
“Yeah, you’re probably right. I’ll compromise and stick a bit of concealer on instead.”
Eleanor quickly dove to rescue the lipstick that Muse had lazily flicked off the table, and threw it into her handbag.
“Why you can’t play with your own things is beyond me,” she muttered to the cat, who was now trying to chase a blusher brush.
Muse gave Eleanor one of her best “haughty” looks and jumped to the floor, her tail erect and her feline bottom wiggling in disdain.
• • •
The week passed uneventfully for the most part. There was a bit of excitement on Wednesday, when an email was circulated detailing the forthcoming retirement party for Gerry, but by the time lunch was over, things were back to normal. Thursday and Friday were the usual frantic paced days that they always were, but they inevitably passed and everyone was once again looking forward to the weekend. As an added bonus, Eleanor had successfully managed to avoid bumping into Charming for five consecutive days, so she was definitely in a party kind of mood. Not to mention the fact that a quick lunchtime visit to the hospital had left her bottom thankfully stitch-free. All in all, it had been a good week.
“Fancy a night on the town?” she asked Danny and Jake as they left the building.
Both men looked at her with surprise.
“It’s not the end of the month,” said Jake slowly.
“Are you feeling okay?” asked Danny, touching Eleanor’s brow with mock concern.
“Oh shut up,” she chuckled. “I just fancy a few drinks and a bit of a boogie. You up for it, or not?”
“Honey, I’m always up for it,” said Jake, winking.
“Don’t I know it,” said Danny darkly.
“Too much information, guys,” said Eleanor, shuddering.
“At least we’re not gagging for it, like some people,” said Jake, looking pointedly at Eleanor.
“I am not gagging for it! I’m perfectly happy as I am, thank you.”
“Jake, leave the poor girl alone,” chided Danny, putting his arm around Eleanor and hugging her. “Although, maybe it won’t hurt to have a little flirt now and again, now that you mention it.”
Eleanor rolled her eyes. Jake and Danny were the best friends a girl could ask for, but they weren’t backward when it came to interfering.
“Go home, get your glad rags on, and I’ll meet you outside the castle. About eight o’clock?” said Eleanor. She kissed them both on the cheek and ran for the bus that had just pulled up.
When she got home, she made a quick sandwich and fed Muse before running herself a deep scent-filled bath. She spent a pleasant half an hour soaking, shaving her legs and moisturizing all the parts of her body that she normally forgot about in her usual daily routine. By the time she had dried her hair and donned make-up, it was past seven o’clock, and she was studying the contents of her wardrobe seriously.
She normally opted for black trousers and a glitzy top, but today she had an urge to be a little adventurous, especially seeing as she had spent so long primping herself. In the end, she chose a corset-styled strapless top and a slinky three-quarter length skirt. She was momentarily stumped while she considered the stockings or tights dilemma, but swiftly chose the latter when she recalled how uncomfortable a garter belt could be. She shrugged out of her robe and quickly dressed before she changed her mind. Eyeing herself critically in the mirror, she turned left and right, fiddled with the top of her corset, and pulled at the waistband of her ski
rt.
“I’m no Cindy Crawford, but I don’t look bad, even if I say so myself,” she muttered happily. With a last squirt of hairspray and spray of perfume, she grabbed her bag and left.
• • •
“Wow, you look gorgeous, darling.” said Danny, as he stooped to kiss both of Eleanor’s cheeks. “That skirt looks fantastic on you, and your boobs in that top … ” his voice trailed off and he kissed his fingers loudly.
“What’s brought this on?” asked Jake. “You look fabulous, of course, but where’s the trouser-wearing Eleanor that we usually have to hang out with?”
“I was finally able to have a bath,” snorted Eleanor. “I went a bit mad and did all sorts of girly things, so I figured I might as well flaunt my legs while they’re smooth for once.”
“Ah,” said Jake. “I forgot … stitches came out today, didn’t they?”
“Yup,” replied Eleanor, wiggling her bottom. “And my bum feels great.”
Both men grabbed one of Eleanor’s arms and they walked to the nearest pub. Eleanor loved going out with Jake and Danny. They were both extremely good-looking men, and it made her chuckle whenever she saw people’s faces when they realized they were escorting her, Eleanor Gibson, short and skinny person extraordinaire. Jake, with his blond hair and model body, stood a little over six feet, while dark-haired and equally buff Danny was a head taller. Eleanor always felt like a midget when she was sandwiched between them, but it was a very nice sandwich all the same.
They pub-crawled for a few hours, drinking cocktails and vodka shots, and by the time eleven o’clock came, they were all more than ready for dancing the rest of the night away. They entered their favorite club and headed to the far corner of the dance floor. They had arrived at the perfect time, for the DJ had just started the disco hour, and Gloria Gaynor’s “I Will Survive” was just starting.
“Get the drinks in, I’ll get the next round,” shouted Eleanor. “I’m off for a dance.”
Eleanor was a big supporter of dancing when you were drunk. It didn’t matter if you had the coordination of a jellyfish, as long as you were drunk you could move however you liked. Eleanor waved her arms around randomly as she sang along to the song, and wiggled her hips in time with the music. Gloria Gaynor became ABBA’s “Dancing Queen”, and Eleanor never missed a step. By the time Jake beckoned her back for her drink, Eleanor was breathing heavily, but having a marvelous time.
“I love this place,” she said, before downing half a bottle of beer in one swallow. “We should come here more often.”
“Ella, you say that every time we come,” said Jake, finishing his own bottle and placing it on the bar behind him. “You’re the one who only likes clubbing once a month. Me and Danny are here every weekend, and you know you can come with us any time.”
“Maybe I will,” replied Eleanor, plunking her now-empty bottle down on the bar.
“You say that every time, too,” said Danny, rolling his eyes.
Eleanor thumped him playfully, and then grabbed both of her friends.
“Come on, let’s boogie.”
Several bottles of beer later, the club began to empty and the slow songs started to play. Jake and Danny took to the floor to smooch, while Eleanor decided to order one last bottle before she left. It took several attempts to get the barman to understand her because she couldn’t quite make up her mind what she wanted, but eventually she sat down with a glass of wine and hummed dreamily to Shania Twain. She would never admit it to her friends, but she did sometimes wish she had someone to cuddle up to, especially when the slow songs played at the club.
Of course, if Jake and Danny ever suspected her feelings, they would double their attempts at finding her a boyfriend. Thankfully she only felt these pangs when she was very drunk, which was partly the reason why she didn’t spend every weekend partying. Luckily, their smooch had diverted Jake and Danny completely, so they were oblivious to Eleanor’s sudden dip into melancholy. They returned from the dance floor, grabbed their coats and put Eleanor into a taxi before going home themselves.
Excessive drinking usually caused her mind to overwork while she slept, so that night she dreamed. It run to the usual pattern of a mysterious man doing all sorts of naughty things to her, only for the first time ever, the man wasn’t a faceless blur. Instead, he had dark, slightly curling hair, deep blue eyes and a body to die for. He also had Max Charming’s face. Eleanor slept on, oblivious to the smile plastered across her face, and the following morning she didn’t remember anything.
• • •
When she woke up the next day, Eleanor felt surprisingly chipper. Minus the usual hangover, she practically jumped out of bed well before midday and treated herself to a full cooked breakfast. Muse was incredibly happy too, because a cooked breakfast meant scraps of bacon added to her morning biscuits.
“Don’t get used to it,” warned Eleanor. “You’ll get fat.”
“Meow.”
After cleaning the away the breakfast aftermath, Eleanor whipped through the rest of the housework and changed into a tracksuit. The weather was still warm, considering it was September, and on a whim she decided to catch a bus to Roath Park and spend a couple of hours jogging around the lake. Well, maybe just one hour of jogging, she amended.
The bus journey was short, but noisy, with lots of parents juggling their offspring, and elderly ladies on their way to the market in Cardiff’s town center. One of Eleanor’s favorite things to do was eavesdrop on elderly ladies. It wasn’t that she was nosy in the normal scheme of things, she just thought that older women were incredibly funny. She remembered one lady from a couple of months previously; Eleanor had been traveling home from work during the rush hour, and the only seat available had been next to a lady in her sixties who was deeply engrossed in a book. Eleanor had sat down and the lady hadn’t even noticed. Every so often, the lady would shift her legs a little and sigh before turning to the next page of her book. Eleanor had snorted as she caught a glimpse of the title, Lord Davenport’s Lusty Maid. When the lady got off the bus a few stops later, Eleanor couldn’t help but notice the flush in the older woman’s cheeks. Eleanor didn’t stop grinning for an entire hour.
Today’s pickings weren’t nearly as entertaining though. Of the four elderly women on the bus, two were quietly knitting what must have been contenders for Cardiff’s Longest Scarf competition, while the other two were talking ten to the dozen about their “wonderful grandchildren.” Sweet, but nothing out of the ordinary.
With nothing to amuse her, the short journey appeared to take twice the usual amount of time, but soon enough she saw the gates to Roath Park, and Eleanor stepped off the bus. She popped into a corner shop for some bread for the ducks, and then walked into the park, smiling at the world in general.
Eleanor loved Roath Park. She had many childhood memories of family outings, all of them fond, and it always made her smile whenever she revisited the playground of her youth. The lake was the main attraction, of course, with its little island in the middle, and the crowd of banana-yellow pedal boats floating by the cafe. Eleanor walked across the bridge and grinned at the kids in the playing area. The biggest magnet for the kids had always been the larger-than-average slide at the top end of the park. Looking at it from an adult’s eyes, the slide didn’t seem that big, but she remembered thinking it was the biggest slide in the world when she was a child. Today, there was a crowd of about thirty children anxiously waiting to go down it; some on their bellies, some head first, and some in the traditional sitting position. Eleanor was tempted to have a go herself, but swiftly decided against it.
Removing herself from temptation, Eleanor walked to the side of the lake and began breaking her purchased bread into smaller chunks. She soaked them in the water, and then piled them at the lake’s edge. Within minutes there was a small crowd of ducks and swans pecking at her feet. She watched them for a f
ew moments, then left them to start her jog.
She ran for twenty minutes, then decided she needed a drink. After having arrived at the cafe, she checked her purse to see how much cash she had — the cafe was notorious for being expensive — and opted for a cup of coffee and a muffin. She could jog off the muffin when she was done.
The cafe was packed, as usual, and it was a good fifteen minutes before Eleanor was sitting down with her snack. She savored the strong brew with small sips, and allowed the muffin to melt in her mouth, rather than guzzle it down in Jake-like mouthfuls. She was debating whether she should get a second cup of coffee when she saw him. Max Bloody Charming. Walking into the cafe dressed casually in a tracksuit and running shoes. Eleanor couldn’t believe her luck; she had managed to avoid him at work for an entire week, yet here she was, on an unplanned visit to the park, and in walked the person she least wanted to see.
Watching from the corner of her eye, Eleanor tried to sneak out the back way, but in her haste to escape didn’t see the stroller wheel that was in the middle of the aisle. That would have been bad enough, but on her nose-dive to the floor she also managed to catch her tracksuit pants on the cutlery tray, so when she landed, she landed with her bottom displayed in all its thonged glory.
“Miss Gibson,” drawled that hated voice. “I see the stitches have healed nicely.”
“Oh, I’m dreadfully sorry!” cried the harassed owner of the protruding stroller. “It’s Toby, he will insist on pushing the pram back and forth. Toby! Look what you did! You naughty boy! Say “sorry” to the lady!”
“Where’s your knickers, miss?” said the boy who Eleanor assumed to be Toby.
“Toby Jenkins! Don’t be so rude!” said his mortified mother.
“I’m not being rude. I’m wearing my underwear!”
“Oh dear, I really am sorry.”
If the Shoe Fits Page 3