Break Out The Bubbly

by Rick Adams

  And then she was off, back to Sheila’s, whilst Tabatha held me back from chasing her down.

  ‘But she’s got Matthew,’ I cried, ‘she’s going to have him, in the stock room.’

  Tabatha laughed. ‘That’s what she told you, was it?’

  ‘Yes. She’s already, never mind. I have to stop her.’

  ‘Matthew won’t go near her.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘He’s as likely to let Ginger in as he is his mother.’

  I stopped struggling. ‘How do you know?’

  She smiled. ‘When has Ginger ever told the truth?’

  ‘Well,’ I began, then remained stumped as I thought about it, ‘never, I suppose.’

  ‘Exactly. She’s incapable of being honest. Whatever she claims to be doing or have done, I always consider the opposite to be the case. You can’t go far wrong when you turn her scheming on its head.’

  ‘So you don’t think she’s had Matthew?’

  ‘Of course not. It’s a ploy, and a cheap one at that. Just forget about her, I already have.’

  ‘But she’s so horrible, Tabatha. Fancy saying that about you, it’s beyond cruel.’

  ‘And, as with all ridicule, misinformed. What do you think I’ve just been doing in Adrian’s?’

  ‘I have no idea.’

  ‘I’m the new Deputy Manager. I start tomorrow.’

  I gawped at her. ‘You’re having me on?’

  ‘Eight o’clock in the morning, Thursday 30th December, my new career begins.’ She smiled triumphantly.

  ‘But what about Leafy Hollow?’ I said, ‘he’ll be a nightmare to work for.’

  ‘Oh don’t worry about him,’ she chuckled, ‘you forget I’ve had to deal with Carol Granger’s mood swings for twenty years. Adrian’s vacuity will be a picnic in the park compared to the poison of that feast.’

  ‘He’s got Marvilyn calling him ‘My lord’.’

  ‘Then I suppose I’d better get used to calling him that too.’

  ‘He’s an insincere, condescending, vile emotional vampire.’ I stopped and studied my friend. ‘What did you just say? You never bow to anyone, Tabatha.’

  She leaned forward and pointed to his shop. ‘The answer’s in there.’

  ‘What answer?’

  ‘Oh Emily,’ she laughed, ‘sometimes you’re as dim as Carol’s optimism. Adrian’s holds the key to this mystery, I’m sure of it.’

  She looked strangely at me.

  ‘And I know you want to solve this as much as I do. That’s why you have to watch the champagne, and on this very evening. You do your bit, I’ll do mine.’

  Her look became a stare, intense at first before something even demoniacal showed in its expression.

  I was so frightened by it, I thought to say the first thing that came into my head. ‘Sarah said she was being bullied at Sheila’s.’

  Guilt impinged on her features. ‘Yes,’ she admitted quietly, ‘that’s true.’

  ‘By Carol?’

  ‘By us both.’ She paused. ‘You must understand the pressure.’

  ‘No,’ I said defiantly, ‘I don’t think I do.’

  ‘Please, you have to put yourself in our shoes. We have the weight of performance on our shoulders. Targets haven’t been met for months. The shop is heading for closure.’

  She paused.

  ‘Carol wasn’t exaggerating just now, you know.’ She stopped again, biting her lip. ‘And then the champagne starts to go missing.’

  ‘You blamed Sarah.’

  ‘She found out.’

  ‘I know. She told me.’

  ‘I’m not part of it anymore,’ she snapped suddenly, ‘Sheila’s can go to the wall.’

  She stood up.

  ‘But Sarah,’ she hesitated, ‘I can’t believe we drove her that far.’

  She vacillated, then started off.

  ‘Where are you going, Tabatha?’

  ‘To the hospital, of course. Do you think I can bear what I’ve done to that poor girl unless I seek her forgiveness?’

  I stood also. ‘I’ll come with you.’

  ‘No.’ She pointed behind me. ‘You have a visitor, anyway.’

  I turned.

  It was the kindly old woman.

  I smiled at her then turned back to Tabatha, but she was gone, and once more I was left stuck on the bench for company.

  ‘Hello,’ I said, sitting down with a sigh.

  ‘Do you mind if I join you?’ she asked, setting her shopping from Adrian’s down and taking the seat beside me with a sigh too. ‘My breath is from age,’ she smiled ‘what about yours, Emily?’

  ‘How do you know my name?’

  ‘It’s right there,’ she smiled, ‘on the badge on your uniform. And you forget, you were called to the Manager’s office this morning. Now,’ she said observing the stain on my clothes, ‘what have you spilt all over yourself?’

  ‘Tea,’ I sighed again, ‘it’s a long story.’

  ‘Good,’ she replied, ‘I do find novellas so disappointing. Cynthia,’ she said, offering me her hand to shake, ‘Cynthia Robinson. I’m new in town. Up there on the hill, that’s where I’ve just moved.’

  ‘Foggett’s Tor?’ I blurted. ‘You must be loaded! I’m sorry,’ I said immediately, ‘it’s just…’

  ‘No need,’ she smiled, causing her wrinkles to crease warmly, ‘speak your mind, Emily, that’s my motto.’

  I hesitated. ‘What did Matthew’s mother do today?’

  ‘Who is Matthew?’

  ‘That woman you met in the street just now, his mum, you said she blew up over a harmless oversight.’

  Cynthia leant in. ‘Brought the house down, she did, and over absolutely nothing. One of your colleagues forgot to scan an item in her shopping. That woman then claimed the assistant had deliberately done so in order to accuse her later of shoplifting. I mean, have you ever heard of anything so preposterous in your life?’

  ‘Stuff and nonsense,’ I said raising my eyes heavenward at yet another display of criminality by the paying public towards shop staff, ‘and over what, a bread roll?’

  ‘A bottle of champagne, actually.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘A bottle of champagne. At seventy five pounds too, I mean as if the checkout girl would have done that on purpose. The whole thing was demonstrably ugly, especially when your Manager became involved. Unprofessional conduct, my dear Emily, most unprofessional indeed.’

  ‘What did Carol do?’

  ‘In amongst the effing and blinding, not much to tell you the truth.’

  I sighed once more. ‘She’s been under a lot of stress recently.’

  ‘As have you by the sounds of things, but I’m sure it’s nothing a nice cup of tea and a good heart to heart won’t solve. What are you up to after work today? Would you like to come up to Foggett’s Tor to mix it with the rich and famous?’

  She smiled cheekily and I didn’t hesitate to accept her invitation.

  ‘But I can’t stay too long,’ I added suddenly remembering my date with Matthew at seven o’clock, ‘I’ve got an assignment due in tomorrow, and I haven’t started it yet.’

  ‘A student,’ she remarked, ‘I do so like people who make an effort to learn.’

  She stood up.

  ‘Promise to tell me all about it later. I must be off now.’

  I promised, and we said our goodbyes.

  At last I was free from the wretched bench, and I headed back over to Sheila’s, my heart as heavy as the glum look on Carol’s face when I walked through the door and saw her standing by the front till checking her watch.

  ‘You’re late,’ was all she said.

  I thanked goodness she must have finally expended her foul fury.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ I said, ‘I was tending to Sarah. She jumped out of Leafy Hollow’s office window.’

  ‘Don’t call him that!’ she yelled at me. ‘He has a name, you know. He deserves the respect accorded an identity.’

  What the hell wa
s she talking about?

  She hated Adrian as much as the rest of us.

  He was her direct adversary for crying out loud, and she was the one who’d invented the name in the first place back when she had a smidgeon of a personality, and a healthy sense of humour.

  But her face was like thunder, and I really couldn’t be bothered to continue to press whatever button had suddenly popped out of her head along with the rest of the stressometer that had burst through the one hundred degree mark this morning, which now had the shop deathly silent as only ill tempered aggression can induce in others.

  Instead, I smiled sweetly and resumed my afternoon’s work at the front till.

  I was just about ready to go over to Leafy Hollow’s and make a jump for it myself after half an hour of being patronised, psychologically abused and physically assessed by both male and female customers when the call came over the tannoy for me to report to the Manager’s Office.

  It dimly crossed my mind how much had already happened since Tabatha had done the same thing to me this morning, but when I began speaking to Carol all that took a back seat in place of the care and concern I suddenly felt for her.

  She was clearing up Tabatha’s mess, once again right on the edge, her mood veering from upwardly mobile to a dejection that I was genuinely concerned might do vilely for her.

  ‘Sit down,’ she said as I walked through the door.

  She was searching amongst the papers on the desk.

  ‘I can’t work in this sty,’ she seethed. ‘Why the hell is Tabatha so completely disorganised? I shall have to have words with her tomorrow.’

  I sighed again. ‘You’ve just fired her, Carol.’

  ‘What? Oh, words again Emily, words.’

  I didn’t know whether or not to tell her about Tabatha’s new employment.

  I decided against it.

  ‘Sarah’s been taken to hospital.’

  ‘What on earth for?’

  ‘She said she was being bullied.’ I hesitated. ‘I think she found out who the thief was. She knows who’s been stealing the champagne.’

  Carol looked up at me desperately, then relaxed. ‘We know who the thief is, Emily, it’s Tabatha.’

  I decided to play along. ‘Then she should be handed over to the police.’

  ‘No, I don’t think so.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘Because she’ll stop soon enough. She has before.’

  ‘It was her last time?’

  ‘And before. I don’t suppose she’s told you this all started when we first opened the shop, right away, when it was just the two of us.’

  ‘No’ I lied, ‘I didn’t know that.’

  ‘Oh yes, this is the third time.’

  ‘Why does she do it though?’

  ‘She has issues, Emily, mainly concerning the opposite sex.’ She looked strangely at me. ‘When’s the last time you saw her with a man?’

  That threw me.

  ‘I’m not sure I want to answer that,’ I fumbled.

  ‘You started it,’ she pressed, ‘come on, when did you last see Tabatha Hanks with a member of the opposite sex?’

  ‘No,’ I said sticking to my guns, and thinking of David, ‘I’m not comfortable talking about…did you ask me in here for a reason?’

  ‘Dear Emily,’ she chuckled, ‘loyal to the end.’ She fished out a piece of paper and handed it to me. ‘There’s your task, you’d better get to it.’

  I studied the handwriting and my heart sank. ‘By Friday?’

  ‘It won’t be much good if we have it on Saturday now, will it?’

  ‘But I hate parties, you know that Carol.’

  ‘All the more reason to face the deficiency, and overcome it.’

  ‘Why can’t Ginger do it?’

  ‘She’s engaged on other business.’

  ‘Matthew?’

  ‘He started today, my dear girl, he has enough to be getting on with learning how the place operates.’

  I was that close to asking her why she had employed him, why she was blaming Tabatha for the thefts, why she kept losing her rag like a bull in a room full of red wallpaper, and why, most bizarrely of all, she was standing up for and defending Leafy Hollow, but something stopped me, and instead I meekly assented to organise the New Year’s Eve party before leaving her in order to resume my afternoon shift, the only plus point being that by four o’clock it was dark outside and I sensed that the end of the day, most especially, my working day was upon me.

  Little did I realise that what had come before was about to be fully eclipsed, and that firstly, partially by the revelations of this evening and tonight, most notably in the figures of Cynthia Robinson and Matthew, both of whom slid about this chess board just as quixotically as everyone else involved with Sheila’s seemed to be moving.

  And I had never had an idea how to play the game anyway, which is why I suppose life was giving me the chance now.

  I went home and showered, then made my way up to the posh end of town.

  Chapter 5

  CATCH THE THIEF

  Foggett’s Tor.

  A wonderland, a utopian ideal, a veritable time warp back to the good old days when neighbourhood was sacrosanct, community a willing partnership, and the reins of the free market were held by the population at large rather than greedy corporations and megalithic zaibatsus, or something like that…

  Downtown Drotsville, the commercial centre in amongst which our competing shops warred for the same customers, was like Hill Valley 1985 in that time travelling film Back To The Future, but as you walked away from the noise and the dirt and headed up the hill on the south side of town the years rolled slowly back, and by the time you’d reached the Tor you were safe and sound back in good old 1955 where the world was at peace with itself and nobody was trying to stiff you over so they could stuff an extra pound in their pocket.

  That’s why every property was secured with gates, so the inhabitants her could shut themselves off from the people they fleeced during the day in case the same gulls got their own back at night.

  That’s why I didn’t like rich people, and that’s why I began to lose my nerve as I passed through the various obstructions to common folk and found myself in the very heartland of wealth.

  I almost turned on my heel at that point, but then I suddenly heard a familiar ‘Yoo-hoo!’

  I looked up sharply, and then broke into a huge smile.

  Cynthia was leaning out of a window, beckoning me forward to the front door of her home.

  It was huge.

  Six, seven bedrooms at the minimum, with a front garden bigger than Sheila’s and Adrian’s combined.

  When I walked inside it felt like I was in one of those vast Roman atriums. There was an actual fountain in the middle of the hall, and two staircases that curled their way up to the first floor, beautifully burnished and adorned in marble with that swish of green that somehow makes it seem cold and mint-fresh before you’ve even put your foot on the bottom step and taken in its mellifluous odour.

  Rooms abutted each side of this main affair.

  I longed to walk through them all and lose myself in their obvious splendour, but it was to the kitchen that Cynthia directed me first, and therein was a more homely affair, like Alfred and Master Wayne’s in Batman when compared to the majesty of the rest of their abode.

  The kettle, a modest stainless steel item, whistled away when Cynthia put it on, and I satisfied myself with glancing round at the wooden fittings and small ornamental displays on the window sill as well as a pad with some doodling on it that lay before me on the table.

  ‘Not so grand, eh?’ she said noticing my expression, ‘but everyone’s got to have one room in the house they can call their home.’

  She broke into that lovely smile which had me wondering again if I’d ever be as happy as she was when I reached her age.

  ‘Don’t you have a room like this where you live?’ she asked quietly.

  ‘I live in a bed sit I’m afraid, Cy
nthia,’ I sighed, ‘one room is all I’ve got, and that most certainly is not a home.’

  ‘Don’t you have family?’

  ‘Oh yes,’ I said, ‘and we get on very well. But I moved out when I finished school and I’ve never felt the urge to return again.’ I paused. ‘My parents left Drotsville several years ago anyway.’

  ‘Don’t you see much of them now?’

  ‘I visit them when I can,’ I said, ‘we have fun and I always enjoy seeing them both, but it’s a long way to go and I’m usually just as happy when I’m back here in town.’ I paused again. ‘I’m not sure why that is really.’

  The kettle boiled.

  Cynthia poured me the tea she’d offered when I first walked in.

  ‘Do you have any brothers or sisters?’ she asked passing it to me along with a giant ginger biscuit that I bit into ravenously. ‘And did you have lunch today?’ she laughed as I continued to devour it.

  ‘I couldn’t get away from that wretched bench,’ I said. ‘I haven’t had anything to eat since breakfast. I took a long gulp of tea. ‘I have a brother and a sister. But again, they live a fair distance away, and they made the decision to leave Drotsville.’ I thought again. ‘Maybe that’s why I decided to stay.’

  ‘Perhaps you also stayed for someone special.’

  I looked strangely at her, but the surroundings were so cosy and her manner so gentle and unassuming that I felt she could ask me anything to which I’d happily answer. ‘Actually, I just broke up with my store manager’s ex-husband.’

  ‘Ouch!’ she winced, ‘I bet that was painful. At work, I mean.’

  She drank her own tea and started eating one of the biscuits, much more elegantly than I’d done of course.

  ‘Carol’s a difficult woman to start with,’ I replied, ‘so yes, that particular set-up has not done me any favours. He was a horrible man too.’

  ‘There are many around.’

  ‘You can say that again.’

  ‘But there are also many good ones too.’

  ‘There are indeed,’ I said thinking of Matthew. ‘It’s a shame we never meet them under the right set of circumstances though.’

  ‘Oh I met mine like that,’ she said nonchalantly, and again so nicely that I couldn’t begrudge her having had such fortune, ‘we were young, full of hope, and found out we had such similar dreams and expectations it had to be fate that we’d been introduced to each other at that time.’