Break Out The Bubbly

by Rick Adams

  ‘Oh yes, of course, well I think that clears everything up.’

  ‘He wouldn’t let me through to see Sarah, Carol, and because of that she tried to commit suicide. You’re lucky,’ I said to him, ‘if she’d died, then you’d have blood on your hands. As it stands…’

  ‘It’s you that has sticky paws,’ she remarked.

  ‘What? What do you mean? I tried to save her. From you.’

  ‘Yet you only hastened her fall. That must be playing on your conscience.’

  ‘You were bullying her, Carol. You and Tabatha. She told me.’

  ‘We were trying to protect her. From people like you.’

  Not for the first time since this whole matter started, I felt my whole world falling apart around my ears.

  ‘What the hell did she need protecting from me for?’

  ‘“Don’t bother,”’ she imitated, the words sounding strangely familiar, ““she doesn’t talk to anyone anymore, not even the customers.”’

  I tried to remember where I’d heard those words before.

  ‘“She used to be really nice,”’ she continued, ‘“quiet but with a winning attitude. About six months ago though, things started to change. She’d miss shifts, turn up late when she did manage to make it in, and then she’d be generally unpleasant to anyone whenever they tried to talk to her. I thought she was just going through a rough patch, but it hasn’t got any better. If anything, she’s deteriorated over the last few weeks.”’

  ‘Stop it, Carol.’

  ‘“She’s alright, she’s happy to sit on the lottery kiosk all day, and as long as she does her job there, Carol doesn’t ask any questions.”’

  I turned away.

  ‘“We haven’t got the time, no one has these days. The shop’s not doing brilliantly, and we just have to concentrate on our own responsibilities.”’

  ‘You’re supposed to be using the CCTV to catch criminals.’

  ‘Exactly. I’m not sure what discipline to effect really, but I suppose we’ll manage to cover it all in your next appraisal.’

  ‘Right, that’s it. I quit.’

  ‘You still have to organize the New Year’s Eve party.’

  ‘Sod the party!’ I stamped, turning on my heel. ‘I’m off home.’

  ‘She lives in a bedsit,’ said Carol, ‘no friends, no family. And she thinks she’ll be able to pay the rent without a job.’

  ‘I’ll find another one.’

  ‘Who’s going to employ you? You’re redundant.’

  ‘That’s enough,’ said Adrian, standing in front of me as I went teeth bared for the boss, ‘no one’s going anywhere, or threatening anyone, or sacking anyone or quitting until we clear up this mess. Your store is falling apart, and its collapsing rubble and dust is bringing mine down with it.’

  ‘What do you care if we fold?’ I had at him, ‘you always hated us anyway. If we go, your custom doubles overnight. What’s in it for you?’

  ‘I don’t want your shop to fail.’

  ‘Why not?’

  He looked at Carol.

  ‘Oh I get it,’ I sneered.

  ‘Go away,’ whispered Carol, the aggression somehow stronger in her quietness than the rampant bellicosity of before.

  ‘He doesn’t care for you,’ I said, ‘don’t believe what he says.’

  ‘It’s not what you think,’ he sighed.

  ‘He’s given Tabatha a job,’ I continued, ‘he’s stolen her from under your nose.’

  ‘I most certainly have not.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘I wouldn’t take that old battleaxe on board,’ he laughed, ‘she’d scuttle the ship quicker than you’re destroying your career with all these ignorant assumptions.’

  ‘But she told me…’

  ‘She’s a liar,’ breathed Carol, ‘always has been, always will be. Just the type, too, they’re all as devious as each other.’

  ‘After all the support she’s given you’ I breathed, ‘you ungrateful…’

  ‘Oh get back to work! And give me an update on the party preparations after lunch.’ She turned away.

  So did Leafy Hollow.

  I opened my mouth to protest.

  But instead of anger, tears started to choke me.

  I tried to stop them.

  But it was hopeless.

  I might as well have attempted to halt Carol’s current vindictiveness.

  I rushed from the office before I gave them the satisfaction of seeing me upset, though as I headed past the lottery kiosk I was already wiping my face with my sleeve, terrified I would bump into Ginger who would no doubt smash to pieces the final barriers I had left standing between me and outright despair.

  As it turned out, the reality was far worse.

  Because as I rounded the fifth aisle, not looking where I was going, I crashed straight into Matthew Osgood.

  We clung on to each other as we fell, ending up nose to nose on the shop floor.

  ‘Well this is cosy,’ he smiled, his good humour souring the instant he saw how upset I seemed.

  ‘What is it?’ he asked, helping us both up and taking me through the storeroom towards the communal area.

  When I’d finished, having told much of it through blinding tears and wretched gasps, he was suitably furious.

  ‘I’ve got a good mind to go down there right now,’ he said, ‘and show her and that idiot the footage we obtained last night.’

  ‘But you can’t,’ I protested, ‘they’ve got us over a barrel.’

  ‘She gave me the key to the door, Emily, I had legitimate access to the store.’

  ‘Not outside opening hours.’

  ‘Whose side are you on?’

  ‘Yours, obviously, but these things, I’m being taught about law at the moment. Despite recording the evidence, we did it by trespass.’

  ‘I’m not sure that’s right.’

  ‘It’ll collapse in court.’

  ‘I’m not sure that’s true either.’ He chewed angrily on his lip. ‘Well,’ he said at last, ‘we’ll just have to get her again.’

  ‘How, Matthew?’

  He thought ‘We’ll go over to Adrian’s, to the attic, and set up shop there – since she’s stealing the champagne, and they’ve become close, chances are it’s him taking his own flutes and sticking them up on the top floor too.’ He shook his head. ‘I still have no idea why they’re doing it though.’

  ‘Doing what?’

  We both jumped back.

  Ginger was standing in the doorway.

  ‘Nothing,’ I said moving in front of Matthew.

  ‘That’s right,’ she said taking us in steadily, ‘both of you up here, daydreaming in each other’s arms, whilst the shop staff struggle below.’

  She undressed Matthew with her eyes.

  ‘Are you still here?’ she snapped at me.

  ‘I’m not going anywhere.’

  ‘Aisle one, Tranter, it’s a mess.’

  She looked directly at Matthew again.

  ‘The whole section,’ she whispered, running her hands down herself, ‘needs a good strong hand to it.’

  ‘Then maybe Matthew should join me.’

  ‘No,’ she said standing between us, ‘I need his arm elsewhere.’

  ‘I don’t want to work the front till,’ he managed lamely.

  I shot a confused glare at him.

  ‘Oh no,’ she purred, ‘I wouldn’t put that on you.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  ‘You can work the lottery kiosk with me instead.’

  ‘Ginger,’ I protested, ‘that’s not fair.’

  ‘No, what’s not fair is your getting to play with him more than I do.’ She started to lead him away, looking back at me over her shoulder. ‘Think of me, Emily, enjoying this particular ride, whilst you clear up those rotten bananas.’

  Not for the first time that morning I bared my teeth, and not for the first time Matthew intervened to try to keep the peace.

  ‘Will I have training?’ he asked
stupidly.

  ‘Oh yes,’ she purred, ‘I shall instruct you personally.’

  ‘Wouldn’t it make more sense if I outlined the procedure?’ I asked desperately.

  Ginger looked at me with complete hatred.

  At Matthew, with unbridled desire.

  ‘Tranter can outline procedure for you,’ she said coldly, ‘or, you can receive personal instruction from me. Which would you most prefer?’

  He couldn’t win.

  The poor guy could not win.

  He must have known choosing her would have caused him less aggravation, even though I would have made him feel as guilty as sin for the hurt to my pride, but somehow he still ended up telling Ginger that he would prefer my procedure to her person, and that of course sent her bonkers.

  ‘Get to aisle one,’ she ordered me, ‘and see that it’s stocked, quick. You’ve got four more to go after that.’

  ‘The whole shop,’ I protested, ‘on my own?’

  ‘Well Carol cleared half the staff before you got here. That witch Tabatha has gone, Sarah’s off because of you, which leaves precisely us three, the Manager, and that weird woman who used to work across the road.’

  My mouth fell agape.

  I didn’t know which impossibility to address first.

  ‘What do you mean Sarah’s off because of me?’

  ‘You sent her over the edge. Literally, too, by the sounds of it. Pretty cruel in my book that, Tranter, to push someone past their limit when they’re already more miserable than the bloody weather’s been since god knows when.’

  ‘I did not push her in any sense,’ I cried, ‘I was trying to save her. What were you doing all the while?’

  ‘My job.’

  ‘Ha! You couldn’t do your job any worse than Tabatha manages after she’s been at the whiskey on late shift.’

  ‘Which is probably another reason why she was fired. Now get to aisle one, and clear the whole bloody section up.’

  I opened my mouth to protest.

  But as with Carol, instead of anger, tears formed.

  I swallowed hard.

  And this time I fought them back.

  ‘What weird woman?’ I asked. ‘You said there was a weird woman working here. Who is she?’

  ‘I told you. The oddball who reads all the time. From Adrian’s.’

  ‘She’s working here?’

  ‘Yes. On front till. Come on, Matthew.’

  ‘Why would she be working here?’

  Ginger stopped. ‘You don’t believe me.’

  ‘No, I don’t.’

  ‘Go look then. Come on, Matthew.’

  But Matthew didn’t move.

  ‘Matthew.’

  He moved slightly.

  ‘Matthew!’ she screamed at him.

  He trotted off then.

  I mean, he followed her like a lapdog.

  And the coin had finally flipped.

  He was meant to go with me, and he went with her.

  I stood there, shaking with rage and hurt.

  In my own world.

  So much so that I didn’t hear my name being called.

  ‘Emily,’ I was hailed warmly, ‘Emily.’

  I heard it now, and turned.

  It was Cynthia.

  I was overjoyed, but she looked really upset.

  ‘What is it,’ I hastened, putting my hand on her shoulder, ‘what’s wrong?’

  ‘I think you’d better come.’

  She started off towards the front of the shop.

  I looked behind me to see Matthew and Ginger approaching the lottery kiosk.

  ‘What’s happened, Cynthia?’

  ‘It’s that woman. She’s giving your colleague a heck of a grilling.’

  ‘What woman?’

  ‘Matthew’s mother.’

  ‘Who though?’

  But Cynthia was off, and halfway down the body of the shop in moments.

  ‘Come on Emily,’ she cried over her shoulder.

  I was torn.

  I couldn’t let them go.

  She’d have him, within seconds.

  But then I thought of what Tabatha had said to me by the bench.

  Nostalgia flooded my soul, and I almost cried again.

  But again, I kept control.

  By following Cynthia, down the shop, to the front till.

  And when I got there, the sight was horrid.

  Matthew’s mother was right in Marvilyn’s face.

  ‘Look here, you little Jezebel,’ she spat, waving a book up and down in her face, ‘give me the refund or I’ll sue you, the shop, and this whole sorry sham of a town.’

  Marvilyn was cowed, but not enough to defer. ‘And how would you achieve that exactly, madam?’

  Mrs. Osgood hurled the book to the floor. ‘Refund me this product,’ she threatened, ‘or in God’s name I’ll make you sorry.’

  ‘I shan’t credit you something you haven’t bought,’ Marvilyn refuted, ‘and if you made me sorry for an obligation I’m not obliged to obligate, you’d be committing double the blasphemy in the name of that book you just threw to the ground.’

  I looked down.

  It was a Bible.

  ‘For Christ’s sake!’ exploded Matthew’s mother, ‘just give me the refund.’

  ‘Can I help?’ I asked, picking the Bible up to hand back to Marvilyn.

  ‘What do you want?’ she bawled at me.

  ‘I want to process the queue,’ I said, inwardly flinching.

  ‘Well process them, then.’

  ‘I’d like to,’ I continued, my nerve failing rapidly, ‘but there’s only one till.’

  ‘What about the one at the back?’

  ‘That’s a lottery kiosk.’

  ‘So?’

  ‘It dispenses lottery items only.’

  ‘Well it should be a till too.’

  She turned back to Marvilyn.

  Marvilyn looked desperately at me.

  ‘But it isn’t a till,’ I said calmly.

  ‘Well go make it one. Go on then,’ she said when I stood there in amazement, ‘serve these people, over there. I need my refund.’

  ‘What for?’

  ‘Because I bought this item, and I don’t want it any longer.’

  She held up a bottle of champagne.

  A bloody bottle of champagne!

  ‘Look,’ she said holding it upside down, ‘it’s no good. It’s empty.’

  Somehow, I gathered myself.

  ‘You’d like a refund,’ I said slowly, seeing indeed that it was uncorked and its contents drained, ‘for a bottle of champagne, which you’ve already drunk?’

  ‘Well I haven’t had it, of course. Someone else has.’

  ‘But you want the refund? For a product that’s been used.’

  She scrutinised me. ‘I want to speak to the Manager.’

  ‘Carol?’

  ‘No, not her.’

  ‘Well, she’s the Manager.’

  ‘Isn’t there someone else on, duty shift,’ she sniffed, ‘or whatever you people in this, business, call it?’

  ‘Yes,’ I smiled, ‘actually there is. I’ll just fetch her.’

  I started off, hearing only the rude woman’s renewed verbal assault on Marvilyn as I hastened to the lottery kiosk.

  So, Ginger had been telling the truth.

  It was the woman from Adrian’s.

  What the hell was Carol playing at?

  And why had Leafy Hollow allowed her to poach his precious employee?

  “My Lord” I heard her saying to him in my head as I rounded the fifth aisle.

  My God!

  Matthew and Ginger were kissing.

  Well, I say kissing, it was more like an assault on him as her hand pushed the back of his head into her mouth whilst her other arm aggressively explored his body, her legs wrapped right round him so that she sat there straddling him on the counter, gorging herself on her prey.

  Matthew simply wasn’t responding in any way, which just made her lo
ok all the more desperate for her pointed sally.

  Then she saw me.

  ‘Emily,’ she said chewing on his ear, ‘I was going, to tell you. I’m sorry, you had to see us, like this.’

  Matthew tried to struggle clear.

  I laughed. ‘I’ve seen fairer fights on a nature programme.’ I moved closer. ‘Can’t you see he’s not interested?’

  ‘Shut up, Tranter!’ she had at me, tightening her constriction on him. ‘No one likes you, except Carol’s fat waster husband.’

  I looked desperately at Matthew.

  ‘Oh’ she crowed, ‘you haven’t told him yet. Well just remember, meek and mild Matthew, when Tranter next salivates all over you she’s doing it with a mouthful of the Manager’s old man swilling round her…’

  ‘Enough!’ shouted Matthew. ‘Just, enough.’

  ‘And blessed are the peacemakers,’ she concluded happily, ‘except when they can’t stop a war breaking out between them.’

  And with that, she launched herself at me, hitting me hard in the midriff as we sprawled onto the ground, grappling hard.

  The call came over the tannoy instantly:

  ‘Ginger Starr, Emily Tranter, stop brawling!’

  Ginger went for my eyes.

  ‘Starr, stop gouging!’

  We both looked up at the office window.

  Carol was standing there, microphone at her mouth, looking beyond mad.

  We stared at each other, thinking the same thing.

  So we got up, dusted ourselves down, and headed there with Matthew.

  ‘Not him,’ she said almost ripping the door off its hinges, ‘no fucking men!’

  Ginger tutted at Leafy Hollow. ‘What about him?’

  ‘He stays.’

  ‘But…’ I began.

  ‘I don’t want a crowd.’

  ‘You’ve just broadcast,’ I breathed, ‘to the whole shop, all the customers Carol, that two of its employees are fighting, and you don’t want a crowd. Why didn’t you just come out of the office and tell us to knock it off?’

  ‘Shut up!’ she yelled at me, ‘Shut up, Tranter! Shut the fuck up!’

  ‘You’re still on the microphone,’ I observed gently.

  She threw it to the ground, where it smashed to pieces.

  ‘What is he doing here?’ sneered Ginger at Leafy Hollow again.

  ‘He’s my Assistant Manager.’

  ‘No, I’m the Assistant Manager.’

  ‘Yes,’ she said absently, consulting the CCTV monitor, ‘to him.’