by Mandy Baggot
‘What flavour?’ Samantha asked, willing away the pain in her head.
‘Well it’s gonna have to be the blackberry, really enjoyed that last time,’ Jimmy spoke.
‘Would you like anything with that? Nuts?’
‘No thanks.’
‘Or ice cream? I’d highly recommend the Berry Fruits,’ Samantha babbled.
‘Just the tea for now, thanks.’
‘Well, you can always change your mind,’ Samantha said as she filled the kettle.
She was feeling very hot and considered taking her sweatshirt off. No, she couldn’t do that, not in front of him. Her polo shirt might ride up and she would probably get her head caught in the neck hole and wouldn’t be able to get it off. Then she’d be stuck underneath it, unable to get it off and he would help and the polo shirt might come off with it. No she would leave it on and sweat, it was safer.
‘So you’re still here too, I thought you had chores,’ Jimmy spoke.
‘Just clearing up.’
‘You do have a home to go to don’t you?’
‘Of course! But things have to be done,’ Samantha spoke, feeling criticised.
‘Do you ever stray from your routines?’ Jimmy questioned, looking at her full of intrigue.
‘They aren’t my routines, they’re Civic Hall routines.’
‘Yeah but you’re running the hall now, you’ve got to have some input.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous, I’m not running the hall,’ Samantha exclaimed.
Jimmy let out a laugh.
‘Just a matter of time,’ he said.
‘One blackberry tea. That will be 95p.’
‘Thanks,’ Jimmy said, passing her the money and taking the tea.
‘You can’t stay long, I’ll have to close soon,’ Samantha made clear.
‘So what’s there to do round here? I know the place to be is the West End, but I’m not a traditionalist and I like to explore. Where are all the happening places round here?’
‘Happening places?’
‘Yeah, the “in” places to go. Where do you go?’
Samantha was prevented from having to say anything by some vigorous thumping on the front doors.
‘Sorry, I’ll have to see who that is.’
Samantha excused herself and made her way to the front door where she found Cleo banging furiously on the glass, hair flying everywhere in the wind. Her lipstick was smeared and she was wearing neon pink sunglasses.
Samantha opened the door and let her sister in.
‘What are you doing here?’
‘We went to the pub, sshh,’ Cleo spoke, putting her finger to her lips and laughing.
She was swaying on her feet and was very obviously drunk. She was wearing a tiny yellow and white spotted Ra-Ra skirt and stiletto heels. It wasn’t a good combination when she could barely stand up.
‘Where’s Jeremy?’
‘Don’t know. Sshh, someone will hear,’ Cleo replied and laughed hysterically again.
‘How much have you had to drink?’
‘Not enough. Is the bar still open?
Cleo didn’t wait for a reply but headed in the direction of the bar where, to her delight, she saw Jimmy sat on a bar stool. Cleo squealed out loud and grabbed hold of the skater’s arm.
‘Jimmy! What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be back at your hotel or tucked up in someone’s bed?’ Cleo questioned, wriggling herself onto the stool next to him and taking off her sunglasses to leer at him.
‘The bar’s closed and you need to go home,’ Samantha said, taking her sister’s arm.
‘He’s got a drink. I’ll have what he’s drinking, what is it? Vodka?’ Cleo asked, peering into Jimmy’s tea cup.
‘It’s blackberry tea, but I think I’ll have a coffee now. How about you Cleo? Coffee for you?’
‘We’re closed,’ Samantha spoke desperate to get her sister home.
‘Come on, two coffees, I’ll pay. Don’t bother with the machine, we’ll have instant - as quick as you can make it,’ Jimmy offered, sensing Cleo needed it.
‘Come on little bar person, do as you’re told. Two coffees,’ Cleo said, grinning stupidly at Jimmy and holding on to his arm.
Samantha saw Cleo’s hand on Jimmy’s arm and she swallowed back a knot of jealousy. Cleo could touch him, just like that, without any thought, any questions or consideration. She just did it. It seemed so easy. Why did she find it so difficult? When she had to touch him it was as if she had been asked to take hold of a power cable. There was hesitation and fear of death.
‘I was just asking Sam where the happening places were round here,’ Jimmy spoke.
‘Not here, that’s for sure. Dump of a place this is. Look at it, dowdy furnishings, not a shot glass in sight and the snacks - hang on, is that Worcester sauce flavour?’ Cleo asked, screwing up her eyes to look at the crisps.
Samantha didn’t respond but tried to concentrate on the boiling kettle and not her sister gripping on to Jimmy.
‘Gimme some. Two packets, no three,’ Cleo spoke.
‘Cleo…’ Samantha started, about to protest.
‘Here, whatever she wants, apart from alcohol,’ Jimmy said, handing a note across the bar.
‘You don’t have to do this,’ Samantha spoke quietly to him, feeling highly embarrassed by her sister.
‘It’s fine.’
Samantha handed Cleo the crisps and started to make the coffees.
‘It’s no use asking her the best places to go. She doesn’t go anywhere,’ Cleo said, opening the first packet of crisps and greedily eating them.
‘I do go places, I…’ Samantha protested.
‘Bookshops don’t count and neither does the supermarket.’
‘I go out, when I’m not working I…’
‘You what? Read a book? Go to Tesco? WOW! How happening is that eh Jimmy? What are you doing here on your own anyway? Shouldn’t you be somewhere rock ‘n’ roll with some really cool people?’ Cleo asked, squeezing herself into him.
‘I was just here practicing with…’ Jimmy began.
‘Dana. He was practicing with Dana. There was a mishap tonight on the ice and he was practicing. At least I think that was what he was doing, I don’t really know - I’m just the little bar person,’ Samantha babbled, unable to look at anything but her sister’s arm on Jimmy.
‘But…’ Jimmy began, looking at Samantha quizzically.
‘Two strong coffees, drink up,’ Samantha urged, hurriedly putting the cups down on the bar.
‘Mmm, smells gorgeous doesn’t it? Gorgeous smelling coffee with a gorgeous man. That’s got to be a perfect end to an evening hasn’t it?’ Cleo asked, licking her lips and looking up at Jimmy.
‘Where’s Jeremy?’ Samantha asked her again.
‘Getting a takeaway, he’ll be here in a minute. So Jimmy, you want to know where all the happening places are do you? I could show you, give you the grand tour. I’m sure we could keep each other entertained,’ Cleo purred, stroking Jimmy’s hand.
‘Cleo, I don’t think Mr Lloyd wants you to…’ Samantha started the hairs on the back of her neck bristling as she watched Cleo toying with Jimmy’s jacket.
‘Shut up Staff, who asked you? Don’t you have some cleaning to do?’ Cleo snapped, moving closer to Jimmy.
Samantha swallowed and just watched as her sister giggled and ran her hand down Jimmy’s arm. She could never be like that. So confident, so brazen, so Katie Price.
There was hammering on the front doors.
‘Oh that’ll be Jeremy, but don’t let him in yet. We’ve barely got to know each other, you and me,’ Cleo said, smiling at Jimmy and then putting her finger to her lips and sucking it suggestively.
Samantha hurried to the door and saw Jeremy, red in the face, holding two takeaway bags. He smiled in at her like a demented, drunk clown. She unlocked the door and he staggered through it.
‘Hello Sam. Cleo here? She ran off in a strop when she heard they were out of poppadoms.’
‘Over there at the bar, she needs taking home. I’ll call you a taxi,’ Samantha spoke, leading the way.
‘So are you seeing anyone? Dating?’ Samantha heard Cleo ask Jimmy.
‘No, not at the moment.’
‘Jeremy’s here,’ Samantha announced loudly, wishing her sister would untangle herself from the ice skater.
‘I’ve got food. Curry, rice, naan, Bombay potatoes. Oh is that coffee? I could murder a coffee,’ Jeremy said, looking at Cleo and Jimmy’s mugs.
‘You can have mine, I’d better get going,’ Jimmy said, getting off the stool and looking at his watch.
‘Oh so soon? We could go to a club. There’s one just up the street that’s open ‘til four,’ Cleo announced, slurping her coffee and then bouncing up and down on her stool waving her hands in the air like she was watching centre stage at Glastonbury.
‘Maybe another time,’ Jimmy spoke kindly, smiling at her.
‘I’ll see you out,’ Samantha said, accompanying him down the foyer.
As soon as Cleo and Jeremy were out of earshot Samantha spoke.
‘I’m so sorry about Cleo. I haven’t seen her that bad for ages. I’ll be having words with Jeremy when they’ve both sobered up.’
‘It’s fine, she’s nice. Very different to you though, are you quite sure you’re sisters?’ Jimmy enquired.
‘My mother isn’t like that! She married my dad at seventeen,’ Samantha answered, unlocking the door.
Jimmy laughed and smiled at her.
‘Just for the record, I’m a fan of bookstores too,’ Jimmy replied.
‘Oh,’ Samantha said not knowing what else to say.
‘I’ll see you tomorrow.’
‘Yes, see you tomorrow,’ Samantha answered, watching him leave.
‘Sam! Get some plates! This’ll be cold by the time we get home!’ Cleo yelled, tearing off some naan bread and wedging it into her mouth.
Eleven
Samantha was ironing her Civic Hall jumper when Cleo entered the kitchen. It was morning and 7.30am. After their heated discussion the evening before and Cleo’s drunken performance at the hall, Samantha hadn’t dared to take her herbal tea. However, she’d known Cleo was awake because she’d heard her stomping around her bedroom and emptying her wardrobe of clothes. It was a morning ritual.
‘I disinfected the table,’ Cleo greeted as she whisked past her sister and headed for the kettle.
‘Me too,’ Samantha replied not looking up from her ironing.
‘D’you want a cup of tea?’ Cleo offered her voice softening a little.
‘No thanks,’ Samantha responded, still not looking up.
‘Look, I hate it when you’re like this. I’m sorry about yesterday, about Jeremy and the table and all that - and about what I said about the Civic Hall,’ Cleo spoke hurriedly, standing right in front of her sister so she was unable to ignore her.
‘That’s OK. I’m more concerned about the being drunk and embarrassing last night,’ Samantha replied, putting the iron down and switching it off at the wall.
‘I know how much your job means to you. I should have been more supportive. I shouldn’t have shouted and gone off on one,’ Cleo carried on not really listening to Samantha’s responses.
‘It’s OK. The letching last night was far worse than anything you said,’ Samantha answered again as she slipped her jumper over her head and started to pack away the ironing board.
Cleo just stared at her blankly.
‘What are you talking about? Letching? Drunk? I’m trying to apologise for slagging off the Civic Hall.’
‘Don’t you remember anything about last night?
‘I went out with Jeremy last night, to the pub.’
‘Hmm, and you obviously don’t remember anything that happened after that. Don’t you have a headache?’
‘Well a bit, I suppose.’
‘Never mind. I made your lunch, it’s in the fridge, usual place,’ Samantha spoke, preparing to leave the kitchen.
‘Hang on a minute, I’m lost. We had a row yesterday, you said the hall might close, I called it a flea pit and now you say that’s OK. And you’re trying to change the conversation, making up stuff. Ah ha! It’s Darren isn’t it? You met up with Darren last night didn’t you?’ Cleo exclaimed and let out a scream of excitement.
‘Yes!’ Samantha replied, putting a hand to her throat as she swallowed.
Faking excitement was killing her.
‘That’s great! So you phoned him yesterday and you met up after the show - where did you go? What did you do? First base? Second? Not third? Tell me you didn’t!’ Cleo continued, bouncing up and down and tugging at Samantha’s freshly ironed jumper.
‘I didn’t and you’ll be the first to know if I do. Look I’ve got to go, I’ll see you later,’ Samantha said, relieving her sister from her clothes and heading out of the room and into the hallway.
‘So where did you go? Some expensive restaurant I bet, was it Godiva’s?’ Cleo interrogated, speaking of the most costly restaurant in the district.
‘I’ll see you later. If you remember the last part of your evening then give me a ring,’ Samantha spoke hurriedly, picking up her coat and bag from the peg in the hallway and rushing toward the front door.
‘Don’t think you can avoid giving me the details. I will get them, you know I always do. Resistance is futile! Hang on! Sam! Did I have curry last night? I’ve got a horrible brown mark on my new skirt and I’m really hoping it’s curry,’ Cleo yelled as she watched her younger sister leave the house.
Samantha smiled to herself as she began her walk to the hall. She never got the tube, too many people far too close and she wasn’t keen on being underground. Plus, their mother had been mugged once on the tube by a man posing as a nun. Samantha had never looked at any member of the clergy in the same light again after that.
After the awful day yesterday, last night had been really good. She had spent an hour in Jimmy’s company learning how to skate properly. He had even taught her some of the easier moves of one of his routines from the show. He had been nice, down to earth and a patient instructor when she had wobbled about and fallen over. He kept encouraging her and praising her and picking her up when she hit the floor. He didn’t seem anything like the person Star Life magazine had been depicting. And he was single. He had told Cleo as much when she was practically sat on his lap. He liked Cleo, he was nice to her and he bought her crisps. But he did say he liked books too.
Today everything felt a bit strange. She didn’t know what it was, but it just felt different - she felt different. Her nose was still red and sore, her legs were aching from the skating but she felt almost invigorated at the thought of the day ahead. There was hard work to do, there were spreadsheets and accounts to look through. She needed to ensure everything was up together - the Civic Hall needed her.
However, as the entrance came into sight she stopped in her tracks and a cloud appeared on her bright mental horizon. Felicity and Jane were stood outside the Civic Hall holding aloft placards. They bore the slogans ‘Council Cop Out of Community’ and ‘Civic Hall R.I.P’. Both signs displayed a wobbly drawing of a skull and crossbones. She saw Gobby loitering by one of the bins, ducking behind it whenever Jane stomped past brandishing her sign.
‘Felicity, what are you doing?’ Samantha asked as she reached her two colleagues and tried to ignore the looks they were all receiving from passersby.
‘What does it look like? We’re protesting,’ she responded, waving her banner in the air.
‘Put the placards down before too many people see you,’ Samantha told her and she took hold of Felicity’s sign and attempted to take it out of her hands.
‘We want people to see us, don’t we Jane. That’s why we’re standing here, protesting. There’s no point protesting if no one sees you. Anyway, the local paper will be here in a minute. My boyfriend Tony works on the switchboard and he’s going to get one of the reporters down here,’ Felicity informed Samantha.
Tony sounded like another good choice of man with excellent prospects. At least this one had a job. Where did she meet them? If this was the type of man you met when you actively looked for dating opportunities then Samantha was glad she didn’t bother.
‘We have a banner for you too,’ Jane announced and held out a sign to Samantha which read ‘Bollocks to Borough Council’.
‘I don’t want a banner and you two shouldn’t be standing out here with them either. You’ll scare away the customers and it's OAP day in the restaurant. We don’t want to make Mrs Nelmes pee herself again, she smells bad enough as it is,’ Samantha exclaimed, stepping back from the offending sign.
‘Customers have been signing the petition,’ Jane continued.
‘A petition! A petition for what?’ Samantha asked them.
‘To stop the council closing the Civic Hall of course,’ Felicity retorted.
‘They aren’t closing the Civic Hall, not yet anyway. The council has to look into things first. So, displaying banners with derogatory slogans isn’t going to aid our cause is it?’ Samantha spoke forcefully.
It didn’t sound like her voice, it was full of authority and power. It was Margaret Thatcher organising her cabinet, it was Hilary Clinton berating her philandering husband, it was her mother telling her father not to leave the electric blanket on. She opened her mouth again and coughed.
‘Dave said that…’ Jane began, looking at Felicity for confirmation.
‘It doesn’t matter what Dave said - Dave’s leaving and I bet he didn’t tell you that,’ Samantha continued.
She seized the opportunity while Jane was distracted and grabbed hold of the banner she was holding and wrestled it from her colleague’s grasp.
‘Leaving!’ Felicity and Jane exclaimed in unison, the tone of their voices giving away their shock at the news.
‘Yes, leaving. So none of us will ever have to listen to any more of his lame pearls of wisdom. Now, let’s go inside and get on with our jobs - while we still have them,’ Samantha told them and before she could stop herself she was putting out an arm and gesturing them towards the door, like she was in charge.