Carrington's at Christmas

by Alexandra Brown

  ‘And she’s having an affair with Tom,’ I end. Eddie throws me a confused look, but I know my secret is safe. Then he flings his hand up theatrically and quickly gasps in horror.

  ‘Weell. Calm now, children. I can raise you on that one.’ A cheeky smile unfolds across Eddie’s lips. He flings one leg over the other and, after leaning forward, he rubs his hands together, savouring the anticipation. James and I stare at him. ‘Oh yes, Madam Fifi is having an affair all right.’ He pauses to look at each of us in turn. I can feel my cheeks burning – so Tom was just playing with me after all. This confirms it. I allow the last little drop of hope, that our moment of intimacy was something more, to trickle away. ‘… But it’s not with Tom.’

  Whaat! My heart feels as though it’s going to burst right out of my chest.

  ‘But you saw them snogging,’ I gasp, ‘and I saw them with my own eyes, in the corridor. And he phoned her. On a Sunday. Why would he do that?’

  ‘Who with, then?’ It’s James who asks.

  After a furtive look around the café, Eddie whispers, ‘Only …’ His eyes dart from side to side. ‘… The Heff.’

  ‘Walter?’ James and I say together in disbelief. There’s a stunned silence. I can’t believe it.

  ‘Hush now, we don’t want all and sundry to know … at this stage,’ Eddie sniggers, with an evil glint in his eye.

  ‘So that’s how she wangled the job here then,’ I say, mulling it all over.

  ‘Of course. Oh, and that’s not all. We’re talking the Audi, the stratospheric salary. I mean, I know she’s a retail consultant, but come on,’ Eddie sniffs, before pulling a haughty face. ‘Anyway, she’s working me like some Vaudeville circus act and coming and going as she pleases, and wearing that slutty perfume and flinging her fur coat around and practically running her phone sex line out of her office,’ Eddie continues, counting out the misdemeanours on his hand as he reels them off one by one. ‘Yes, she’s so smug she’s practically licking her own arse.’ He crosses his arms with indignation. I stifle a snigger and James shakes his head at Eddie. ‘Oh, and not forgetting the pied-à-terre secret mews house in London.’ Eddie’s eyes dart around the café. ‘They spend practically every weekend there, you know,’ he mouths, with a look of disgust on his face.

  ‘Really,’ I snort.

  ‘You know, I even overheard Walter lying to Camille, telling her he was attending the team-building event just so he could stay at the house last weekend.’

  My brain instantly goes into overdrive. So Tom must be in on the secret then. I wonder whether Walter knows about her and Tom – maybe it’s a love triangle. My head is spinning. And, come to think of it, I wonder if Walter knows about her trying it on with James as well.

  ‘How do you know she isn’t sleeping with Tom too?’ I ask, trying not to sound too bothered about it. Eddie flashes me another look.

  ‘Well, she may well be … but if she is, then Walter won’t be happy. No, he likes his affairs to be exclusive,’ Eddie says, nonchalantly, before inspecting his nails.

  ‘Maybe we should tell him,’ I offer, eager for the pair of them to get their comeuppance.

  ‘Tell Camille, more like. She’s the one with the money, after all. Serve the old bastard right for shafting me into a life of slavery,’ Eddie snorts.

  James shakes his head.

  ‘No, we need to come up with something more concrete. We don’t even know for sure she’s sleeping with them both,’ James says, distractedly. His forehead creases as he tries to formulate a plan.

  ‘Leave it to me,’ Eddie says, leaning back and spreading his arms along the back of the train seat like some Mafia mogul planning a hit. ‘Madam deserves everything she gets. You know, she told me to go and find a job in Poundland if I didn’t like it, when I dared to voice an opinion about my disgusting workload the other day. No, by the time I’ve finished with her she’ll be spending the next ten years to her retirement date examining her own backside and wondering where her career went. I’d love to see her face when I tell her to go and get a job in Poundland.’

  I laugh out loud, imagining Maxine stacking the shelves and scaring the customers away.

  ‘Whaat?’ Eddie says, trying to look all innocent.

  ‘You are so outrageous,’ I say.

  ‘Weell … she must be pushing fifty-odd at least,’ he snorts. James and I laugh as Eddie frivolously adds at least fifteen years on to her.

  ‘But what are you going to do?’ I ask, desperate to know what Eddie has in mind.

  ‘I’m not sure yet, but I’ll think of something. I’ve already been fantasising over a few options during the darker moments of the last few weeks, and now I know that I’ll be shoving her comeuppance down her throat for all three of us … well, it’ll be all the sweeter.’

  ‘Just be careful,’ I reply, getting up to give Eddie a hug, and James shakes his hand.

  ‘Oh I will. And believe me, the pleasure is going to be all mine,’ he says slowly, winking at us both.

  28

  Sam glances over in my direction and, catching my eye, we share a knowing look. The hen party has only been going for an hour or so and already I just want it to be over. Tina hasn’t stopped telling us how much Ciaran loves her and how he’s proved it by spending so much money on the wedding and how romantic it’s going to be blah-blah-blah. And she must have already reminded us, a trillion times at least, that she’s getting married on Valentine’s Day. It’s not even ten o’clock. This is going to be a long day. I just hope she doesn’t ask if I’ve found a date yet, which I haven’t, of course, so I’m trying not to think about it.

  We’re all in the chill-out room and Tina is sitting on a big taupe-coloured leather beanbag in the middle, surrounded by the girls from Lingerie. Lauren is here, Tina’s carbon-copy-looking friend Karen, and a couple of girls from the hairdresser’s next door are milling around the heaving buffet table looking uncomfortable and muttering about why they’ve been invited.

  ‘So, Georgie, tell us all about the team-building event. It must have been so much fun,’ Tina prompts, her jaw muscle flexing. My heart sinks.

  ‘Not really; in fact it was pretty dull,’ I mutter, leaning forward to take a handful of kettle crisps, hoping she’ll get the hint.

  ‘Oh, I bet it wasn’t. Ladies, who wants to hear all the gossip?’ Tina flashes a look around the room, hoping to drum up some support for her request. Sam, who’s now hovering nearby, and out of sight of Tina, makes big warning eyes at me.

  ‘Really, it was actually quite boring. You know, the usual thing.’ I grin and push a few more crisps into my mouth. I wish she’d drop it.

  ‘Oh, something must have happened. Come on, we all want to know.’ Tina’s eyes dart around the room again, provoking a half-hearted mumble of encouragement from the Lingerie girls. My face flushes. I’ve been dreading this moment. Ever since she squeezed out the reluctant invite in the lift, I’ve been intrigued to know the reason behind it, and now I know. She’s obviously decided on the ‘keep your enemies closer’ approach, thinking we’re friends somehow because I’m at her hen do, and I’ll spill the beans about Ciaran’s night away from her. Not that he got up to anything that I know of, but I don’t know what he’s told her, or – more importantly – what he hasn’t.

  ‘Tina, I’d much sooner hear about the wedding. Have you got a picture of your dress?’ It’s Lauren who rescues me. Tina, taken aback by the normally unassertive Lauren’s request, stares at her for a second. I want to hug her for taking the heat off me.

  ‘Of course not, it’s a surprise. But I can tell you that it cost almost two thousand pounds. Can you imagine that, Lauren?’ The girls all stare at Lauren, who’s fidgeting uncomfortably. Tina is glaring at her and I can’t help thinking what a pity it is she can’t even enjoy her own hen party.

  ‘Wow, it must be fantastic, is it a designer dress?’ I ask, eager to ease Lauren’s embarrassment and steer the conversation away from the weekend.

  ‘Of course,’ s
he snorts.

  Caroline, the salon owner, closes her eyes for a second, and then, drawing in a deep breath, she marches into the middle of the floor and smooths down her black tunic top.

  ‘OK ladies, if you could finish up now, we need to get started on the treatments,’ she says, brightly, rubbing her hands together in an attempt to chivvy everyone along and bring a halt to Tina’s incessant drilling for information.

  Tina grabs the treatment schedule handed to her by one of the therapists, and I let out a little sigh of relief as she scrutinises it, appearing to have forgotten about interrogating me.

  ‘Only a few more hours to go,’ Sam mouths from behind the multicoloured macaroon mountain, as I glance over, roll my eyes and bite down hard into a stuffed olive.

  The therapists are handing out thick white towelling robes for each of us to wear. The Lingerie girls jump up and rush towards the changing rooms. I glance at my schedule and see I’m having a pedicure at four thirty, but Tina and the Lingerie girls are having the works – full body massages, facials, gel nails and vajazzles.

  ‘Ladies, before you all go and get changed, I’ve bought a little present for each of you.’ The girls hurtle back to their seats. Tina is standing up now and motioning over to a huge cardboard box that’s sitting in the corner underneath the window. Then she skips over to it and flings open the lid.

  ‘Da-daaa,’ she squeals, like a magician’s assistant, before pulling out the handbags, each one in its own black-and-white striped Anya Hindmarch dust bag. My pulse quickens. I’ve wanted one for ages, but they’re way out of my price bracket, even with my staff discount card. Tina starts taking a bag to each girl.

  ‘Oh my God. Tina, you’re so generous,’ coos Karen, as she reaches inside the dust bag. Karen leans forward and plants a little kiss on Tina’s smug-looking face.

  ‘It’s nothing,’ Tina smirks, shaking her ponytail and basking in the misplaced glory Ciaran’s money has bought her. The Lingerie girls are all ripping open the dust bags and Tina is back over by the box now. ‘Oh dear,’ Tina shouts over from the other side of the room, and the commotion halts. ‘It looks like I may have tallied up the numbers incorrectly. Has everybody got a bag?’ she asks, mock concern spread all over her face. I gingerly shake my head, not wanting to look greedy, and then so does Lauren. She doesn’t have one either. Karen and the Lingerie girls start wandering off to get changed, taking their bags with them but not bothering to reply to Tina’s question. For a glimmer of a moment I feel sorry for her, trying to buy friendship from workmates that clearly don’t really like her.

  ‘Oops, there’s only one left.’ Tina reaches into the bottom of the box and Lauren’s face drops; she’s practically on the verge of tears.

  ‘It’s fine, Tina, let Lauren have it,’ I say. Lauren darts a hesitant look in my direction. I smile and nod at her, and then catch Sam discreetly making big eyes at me again. I should have guessed. Lauren steps forward and, clutching the package to her chest, she turns around to face me.

  ‘Thank you, Georgie. Thank you so much.’

  Tina’s face is a mixture of anger and dismay.

  ‘Well actually, Lauren, it’s me you have to thank,’ she says, poking Lauren in the back. Lauren spins around and mumbles an apology, her face turning crimson with embarrassment, and I don’t feel sorry for Tina any more.

  ‘OK ladies, shall we get going?’ Caroline says, brightly, and starts herding the girls towards the door. Sam winks at me as I walk past the buffet table and I just about manage to force a grimace.

  On a small clear Perspex table that’s been placed just outside the entrance, there are crystal glasses brimming with white wine spritzer. Sam has thought of everything. I help myself to one and take a huge gulp of the fruity, fresh liquid, almost downing the whole glass in one.

  I make my way into the changing room. The girls are all milling around. Some are already wearing their robes, whilst the others are standing around in their underwear, quaffing as much wine as they can. I dump my bag in a locker and start getting undressed. The girls soon finish up and start filtering back to the waiting area, eager for their treatments. I toss my clothes in the locker too, pull on the robe and count to ten. I’m glad to be alone for a moment.

  *

  While the others are having their treatments, I persuade Sam to abandon the buffet table so we can catch up before my pedicure. The waiting area is empty when we get there, so we flop down into the candy-striped cushioned steamer chairs. The manicure tables are to our left and directly in front of us are a couple of treatment rooms.

  ‘Fancy another drink?’ Sam raises her eyebrows at me.

  ‘Oh go on then, I think I need it.’ Sam pads over to another small table bearing an enormous jug with what looks like Sangria inside. She brings the whole jug back with two tumblers.

  ‘We might as well get stuck in. My pedicure isn’t until four thirty,’ I tell her.

  Sam tips the jug and a couple of pineapple chunks plop into the tumbler, followed by a generous measure of the magenta-coloured concoction.

  ‘Bottoms up.’ I chink my glass against the side of Sam’s.

  ‘Mmmm, not bad. Needs a bit of a kick though.’ Sam pulls out a small bottle of tequila from her pocket and we exchange a wicked look. ‘I thought I’d better bring some emergency rations, just in case,’ she explains, waving the bottle at me.

  ‘Good thinking,’ I say enthusiastically and, before I can protest, she tips a generous measure into my drink. I take a slug. The liquid, now with the added kick from the tequila, warms me as it trickles down into my stomach, and I instantly feel more relaxed.

  ‘A few more of these, and I think I might actually enjoy today after all,’ I breeze, feeling looser already.

  ‘That’s a girl. Get it down you.’ She pours me another generous tot. ‘It was nice of you to let Lauren have that bag, it must have been a wrench to pass it up.’

  ‘No, not really, I spend all day with bags like that,’ I smile. ‘I wanted her to have it. Anyway, let’s face it … she did rescue me from Tina’s inquisition about the team-building weekend.’

  ‘Yes, that was sooo funny when you told me about Ciaran being starkers in your bedroom.’

  My vision is a little misty as I reach over to chink Sam’s glass again. She’s also on her way to tipsyland as she misjudges the distance between us and ends up toasting my arm instead.

  ‘Oops, better slow down.’ We glance at each other and giggle.

  Suddenly, the door to one of the treatment rooms bursts open and Tina appears, clutching a towel to her naked body. Her face is covered in a fluorescent green face mask. She’s huffing like a mini Incredible Hulk revving up for a gigantic hissy fit. Caroline is standing behind her with a look of utter horror on her face. My lips freeze on the glass. Tina struts over towards us and positions herself squarely between the two steamer chairs. She throws a look of disgust at Sam before turning to me. I swallow. Tina opens her mouth, immediately closes it and then hesitates for a moment before opening it again.

  ‘Can you purleease keep the noise down. Your cackling is ruining my treatments. In fact, it’s probably best if you go, Georgina, you’re quite clearly not taking today seriously. And you are supposed to be on duty at the buffet table – that’s what I employed you to do,’ she snaps at Sam.

  ‘Sorry, we didn’t mea—’ But before Sam can finish her sentence, Tina turns and flounces back into the treatment room. Caroline turns to close the door behind her and mouths ‘sorry’ at us before shaking her head. Sam and I exchange furtive glances. ‘Come on. I think we’ve more than outstayed our welcome,’ Sam whispers, as we leg it back to the chill-out room.

  29

  ‘You OK?’ Sam asks, softly. After Tina’s outburst yesterday, Sam stayed behind on buffet duties, while I dashed out for a sobering chicken salad. I then headed home to catch up on my ironing and get an early night before work today. I asked Maxine if I could do some extra hours to improve my chances of being kept on, so it’s M
onday afternoon and I’m on the phone in the vestibule behind my counter.

  ‘I’m fine. Relieved I managed to escape yesterday,’ I reply discreetly into the mouthpiece.

  ‘Lucky you. I was there until late, stuffing stupid vol-au-vents. I mean, who even likes those these days?’ Sam tuts. ‘Anyway, I have to know. What was Ciaran doing in your room, naked?’

  ‘Oh don’t ask, Melissa nicked his clothes while he was in the hot tub. It was a prank, that’s all.’ And then it dawns on me. ‘Oh my God. Do you think Tina heard me?’

  ‘It occurred to me later that she must have done – that’s why she came flying out of the room, not because we were laughing.’

  ‘So why didn’t she say anything then? You know how possessive she is.’ I feel uneasy. I cast a quick look around the near empty floor.

  ‘Maybe she’s over all that, now the wedding is so close,’ Sam says.

  ‘Mmmm, I’m not so sure. She hates me, always has. She’s up to something.’

  ‘Is she really that clever though?’

  ‘Remember what she said about my sales sheet? I wouldn’t put it past her to scrub stuff off so Maxine thinks I’m a crap sales assistant who can’t sell anything any more, just to get rid of me,’ I reply.

  ‘Now you’re just being paranoid. You know I overheard her bitching about Ciaran having to work through his lunch breaks and stay late all the time? Think she wanted me to hear. But he doesn’t, I certainly don’t make him.’

  ‘Really? Maybe he’s got another woman,’ I say, deviously.

  ‘If he’s got any sense,’ Sam replies. ‘Anyway, I’ve got a stock order and a VAT return to catch up on, so I’ve let the others go home early.’

  ‘OK. Good luck, yell if you need a hand,’ I say, knowing how Sam hates form-filling and anything maths-related.

  ‘Will do.’

  ‘And that business with her bags, well, just so you know, they’re fake. I had a peek at Lauren’s. The stitching was all wonky, a dead giveaway,’ I say.