by Rick Adams
Ginger’s face fell in direct correlation to Matthew’s and mine lifting.
‘So that makes you,’ I sniggered, ‘what, the Assistant Assistant Manager?’
She balked. ‘I’m still higher than you in the pecking order.’
‘Actually,’ said Carol nonchalantly, ‘I think you can be as well. What’s wrong with this thing? Why isn’t it working?’
‘It’s been turned off,’ I said smiling sweetly at my nemesis, ‘rather like Matthew has been by recent advances made towards him.’
‘What do you mean she’s the Assistant Assistant Manager?’ pleaded Ginger, ‘you promoted me.’
‘Ah, yes,’ said the Manager looking at Leafy Hollow, ‘would you? Yes, Ginger, where was I? Yes, I think it would be good if there were three of you.’
‘Three Assistant Assistant Managers,’ I beamed broadly.
‘Shut up, Tranter!’ all three of them said at once.
‘What do you mean three?’ asked Ginger
Leafy Hollow turned the monitor on.
Once more, the shop was covered at four angles.
‘I promoted Matthew too,’ Carol said vacantly, ‘first thing this morning.’
‘But,’ she stammered, ‘I mean,’ she stuttered, ‘how? You never told me, you bastard! Why not?’
‘I told him to keep it under his hat.’
‘Why?’
‘Because I knew you’d react like this.’
‘Like what?’
‘This.’
‘But I’m the Assistant Manager.’
‘No, Ginger,’ I said sweetly, ‘Adrian has that mantle now.’
She stared daggers at him. ‘But you work for the opposition.’ She stared at us all. ‘What the fuck is going on?’ she yelled.
And then she stormed out.
Carol called after her.
‘Silly girl,’ she said coming back into the office and shutting the door, ‘so flighty. Such impetuosity. Now, where we?’
‘What is going on, Carol?’ I asked.
‘What do you mean?’
‘Ginger’s right – how can there be three Assistant Assistant Managers? And how can he be the Assistant Manager when he doesn’t even work here? And how can a member of his staff be working our front till? And what the heck’s happened to Tabatha?’ I added as afterthought, though utterly regretted it the second the words left my stupid mouth.
‘Don’t mention that bitch.’
‘Please don’t talk about her like that. You used to be best friends.’
Suddenly, there was the most almighty scream.
And I knew straightaway who it was, and what had happened.
For when we reached the front till, sure enough Matthew’s mother was clutching hold of her mouth.
And Ginger was bending over her, rubbing the hand with which she’d socked her one in the jaw.
Chapter 7
CAROL’S RAGE (II)
The Manager rushed over to Mrs. Osgood.
‘Judith. What on earth happened?’
‘The girl,’ moaned Matthew’s mother, ‘she hit me.’
‘I did not.’
‘But you’re still rubbing your hand,’ I blurted, ‘it’s red raw.’
I shouldn’t have said anything.
I mean, she couldn’t have been more caught if she’d run off to aisle five, picked up three bottles of champagne and then legged it past us all out the front door.
But then a strange thing happened.
Despite her clear, undeniable culpability, one by one the customers present began to deny all witness to her assault on Mrs. Osgood.
‘I didn’t see anything,’ said one slowly.
There was a brief pause.
‘Neither did I,’ added a second.
‘What about you?’ Carol asked the one behind her.
Again, the denial.
And then the penny dropped.
Far faster for me, as it turned out, than for poor Mrs. Osgood.
‘But you’re witnesses,’ she pleaded, ‘you did see her. She assaulted me.’
Matthew sighed.
I looked strangely at him.
Shouldn’t he be the one cradling his mother?
‘That girl struck me,’ Judith pled again. ‘Somebody, do something.’
She looked desperately at her son.
But he cast his eyes down.
‘There you go,’ swaggered Ginger, ‘these folk didn’t see me do a thing.’
‘Then what did you do?’ I pressed. ‘Why is this lady clutching her mouth? Why is your hand swollen? And why has Marvilyn got that empty bottle of champagne shoved down her uniform?
Everyone looked at her.
She looked back over her pince-nez at me and said, ‘My name is not Marvilyn.’
I felt all eyes on me.
‘What? Yes it is. That’s what he called you, Adrian. Yesterday,’ I stammered, ‘when I was…’
‘Trespassing,’ he suggested.
‘That’s what he always calls me,’ she said looking fondly at him. ‘And I he…’
‘My lord?’
They both nodded.
‘It’s a game?’
They both nodded.
‘What the hell is wrong with you people?’ I cried stumbling back into Matthew.
‘Careful,’ he said taking hold of my waist.
‘Get your hands off me, Osgood,’ I shouted.
‘My lord,’ grinned Ginger.
Everyone seemed to laugh at once.
‘The shop is closed,’ said Carol, fishing the champagne bottle out of Marvilyn’s uniform. ‘I’m shutting up for the rest of today.’
‘We can’t close,’ Leafy Hollow said slowly, ‘it’s a business. Look. There are customers, waiting to pay.’
‘We’re closed.’
‘At ten in the morning?’ one of them queried.
‘Go to his store.’
‘But we’re in partnership,’ breathed Adrian, ‘which means I need your custom also.’
‘Well you’re not having it. Not today.’
‘Now Carol…’
‘Look here,’ she whined, her inner demon straining at its leash once more. ‘I’m not being had over. Not by her.’
She held the champagne bottle upside down and gave it a good shake.
‘What do you see?’ she trumpeted at us all. ‘What do you see?’
‘Nothing,’ Ginger said, ‘it’s empty.’
‘Exactly.’
‘Well that clears that one up then.’
‘That cow,’ spat Carol, ‘is out there, right now, trained upon us all with her spying glass, laughing at our folly.’
‘Of course she’s not,’ I sighed.
‘Who are you talking about?’ asked Marilyn.
‘What’s a spying glass?’ Ginger murmured without interest.
‘CCTV,’ I said, except it’s not Tabatha with the spying glass, it’s Carol. And there’s no point in this whole charade because Matthew and I know that the thief isn’t Tabatha, it’s her.’
‘We’re closed,’ said Carol, ‘you’ll have to leave.’
And with that, she herded all the customers outside.
‘Come on,’ she said to Leafy Hollow and Marilyn, ‘you too.’
‘I’m not going anywhere,’ he said, ‘this is my shop now.’
I balked. ‘No it’s not.’
Carol shut the door and locked it, with both of them very much on the inside still.
Then she turned the Open sign round to Closed.
Mrs. Osgood made false sound of pain on the floor.
‘Look after your mother,’ Carol barked at him. ‘The rest of you, to the boardroom.’
Oh no, I thought, not again.
She was going to go ballistic once more, and probably fire all of us.
But up we went anyway.
Why we acquiesced instead of refusing point blank, I have no idea.
It must have been something in her manner.
The tone of her voice.
<
br /> Her assertion.
Its aggression.
Fierce enough to silence us.
We followed in file, like dumb lambs to the abattoir, Adrian first, then Marilyn or whatever her name was, me next, Ginger last, of course.
I missed Tabatha.
In that moment, I cherished her.
And Sarah.
I hoped she was alright.
I suddenly thought I should see her.
This evening, maybe.
I would go to the hospital.
And then I remembered.
My course.
The assignment.
Due date today.
I shrugged my shoulders.
I’d probably be out of a job by then, anyway.
What difference being flung off the course too?
We trooped into the boardroom.
Everyone sat, except Leafy Hollow.
I thought that was a bit sexist, so I stood up.
‘Sit down!’ Carol shouted at me.
I sat.
Then I stood up again.
Carol shot me a death stare.
But I stayed standing.
‘I’m warning you, Tranter,’ she started.
Marilyn stood up then.
‘Sit down,’ sighed Leafy Hollow.
She remained afoot.
‘Will you just sit down? Both of you. Please.’
I glanced at my Manager.
She was shaking with rage.
Why the hell was she so angry?
She was literally holding the lid down on herself with all available effort.
‘Why are we here?’ asked Ginger in that desultory fashion only she could manage with such aplomb.
Except I was with her on this one.
We seemed to be in exactly the same place as yesterday, except it was a lot earlier in the working day and the make-up of our contingent was different.
‘Come on,’ said Adrian moodily, ‘let’s get this sorted, then we can open the shop back up again.’
‘No one’s opening the shop,’ seethed Carol. ‘Not until someone’s fessed up.’
The collective sigh was audible.
‘You think it’s Tabatha,’ said Ginger, ‘and she’s not here.’
‘She has an accomplice,’ breathed the boss, ‘a mole, in operation. In this room.’
‘This isn’t MI5,’ I choked, ‘and it’s not Tabatha in the first place.’
‘It’s you then, isn’t it?’
‘No, Carol,’ said Leafy Hollow, ‘it’s you.’
We stared open-mouthed at him.
We stared dumbly at her.
Yet her next move was incalculable.
To watch her squirm under the accusation, and the correct one at that, was something else, if only because she slipped out of the net so confidently.
‘You’re in it with her,’ she said simply.
‘No, I’m not.’
‘Hadrian may be many things,’ said Marilyn, ‘but he’s no thief.’
‘Who the hell is Hadrian?’ Ginger laughed.
‘Who asked you?’ Carol snapped back at her.
‘You can’t just be rude to people and expect them to give in,’ said Marilyn looking over her pince-nez at the Manager, ‘it doesn’t work like that, you know.’
‘It works like that here. Who are you anyway?’
‘I’m Marilyn,’ she said slowly, ‘you employed me this morning.’
‘You’re fired!’
‘You can’t fire me, because Adrian is in overall charge. Sheila’s has been subsumed by Adrian’s.’
‘Then go and work back there.’
‘Hang on,’ said Ginger, ‘I thought you said he was the new Assistant Manager.. How can he be your boss?’
‘We’re in partnership,’ said Carol dismissively.
But he’s managing both stores,’ I surmised desperately. ‘When did this takeover happen? Carol.’
‘It’s been months in the offing, you stupid girl,’ she picked at me, ‘only someone without awareness of any kind could have failed to see it coming.’
‘Well I had no idea we were being bought out,’ said Ginger.
I smiled broadly.
Ginger flushed, then sniveled at me. ‘Haven’t you got some snot nosed essay to write somewhere, student?’
Actually, I did.
‘Actually,’ I bragged at her, ‘I’ve working on one at the moment, and funnily enough, it’s on human interaction, in the workplace.’
‘Must be a short piece then,’ she chuckled, ‘and definitely from a personal angle. Your interaction with anybody’s about as brief as Matthew’s foreplay.’
For a moment, I choked.
But again, the tears hardened into icicles and suddenly I found myself coming back at her accordingly.
‘Obviously you don’t excite him like I do then, do you?
She bridled. ‘You haven’t been anywhere near him.’
‘Yes I have,’ I blurted. ‘We had dinner last night at the lottery kiosk.’
The room fell silent.
Ginger grinned. ‘Honestly, Tranter, you’re about as thick as his mum’s make-up. Did she lend you any? I mean, it must be the first time you’ve been out since David dumped you.’
‘You were in the shop last night?’ fumed Carol.
‘Yes,’ I admitted, ‘we were here.’
‘How did you get in?’
‘You gave Matthew the key.’
‘I most certainly did not.’
‘But he had one. That’s how we got in.’
‘At what time?’
I opened my mouth, then eyed her suspiciously. ‘Why?’
‘What time were you here, Emily? What time?’
‘Seven o’clock,’ I said weakly.
And with that, she collapsed in tears, the heaving, groaning, gut-wrenching, soul-killing sobs that had so wracked her frame yesterday in this very bloody room.
Marilyn and Adrian looked on dispassionately, though shocked.
Ginger filed her nails.
So I had to deal with the mess.
I got up and moved carefully towards her, keenly remembering what had happened when Tabatha tried to offer the same concern yesterday.
Except Carol reacted in opposite fashion.
I mean, she grasped hold of me.
Hugged me.
Held me tight, whilst the torrent of wailing continued.
‘It’s alright,’ I said, stroking her head with my hand, ‘it’s going to be alright.’
‘What’s wrong with her?’ asked Marilyn, ‘is she in love?’
‘Yeah, with him,’ said Ginger.
‘We’re not in love,’ Adrian corrected them both, ‘we’re just dating.’
And history repeats itself,’ remarked Ginger. ‘Carol gets a boyfriend, then sells out to him entirely.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘It’s a long story,’ I said to him. ‘And an old one.’
‘Let’s just open the shop,’ he suggested
‘No!’ Carol bawled at him.
‘Why not?’
She sobbed harder.
‘Is that all you’re thinking about?’ Marilyn sighed at him.
‘It’s the reason we’re in business.’
‘But it’s still her shop.’
‘Not for long.’
‘So you are taking us over?’ Ginger said absently.
‘Yes.’
‘Why?’
He looked slowly from one of us to the other. ‘This town doesn’t need two supermarkets in competition.’
‘But you sell books.’
‘And produce.’
‘But we flog produce only. You can still have your books. Why not let us be?’
‘It’s a long story,’ he smiled, ‘and an old one.’
His face fell when no one laughed.
‘Women,’ he sighed a little too loudly under his breath.
‘What did you say?’
‘Emily,’ Marilyn chid.
/> ‘What? Why are you defending him?’
‘Because he’s a good man.’
‘Who’s just dismissed fifty percent of the human race. For God’s sake, Marilyn, he had you calling him ‘my lord’ yesterday, and he’s responsible for Sarah jumping when I could have stopped her from his office. He is not a good man.’
‘You don’t know what he’s done for the community.’
‘I don’t care. He’s about to close us down.’
‘No, I’m not.’
‘Yes, you are.’
‘It is not my intention to close Sheila’s. Why else do you think I want the place to be kept open today? Now can we please wrap up this pointless exercise in emotion and get back to work?’
Carol sobbed again.
‘Come on, Marilyn.’
‘My lord.’
‘Wait a minute,’ said Ginger, ‘Tranter’s right on this one.’
‘I am, and don’t call him that. What did you say, Ginger?’
‘You’re right. Both these two work opposite. Obviously, it’s a cushy deal, if there’s just the two of them whilst we have to employ more than several. But now Carol’s fired most of us, she needs them here, and they come across willingly. So we’ve got a full contingent, four eyes on front till, Osgood on lottery, me and Tranter roaming the shop floor, and Hadrian and Carol sitting in the office working on, well that’s their business.’
‘You have surmised correctly,’ said Leafy Hollow.
‘So what happens to Adrian’s?’
‘It remains open.’
‘How?’
‘By bridge. I am going to build a bridge,’ he declared puffing his chest out, ‘linking first floor to first floor, from this boardroom here to my office window there. It will be a landmark, a beacon, drawing customers from afar, voyaging on perilous journey to behold, envisage and wonder at its span across our two shop fronts, uniting us in partnership, our rivalry ended, competition resolved…’
‘In your favour,’ I said.
‘Why don’t you just build a tunnel?’ suggested Ginger.
I laughed.
Wow, I actually found something Ginger said funny.
‘Why would I build a tunnel?’ Leafy Hollow posed.
‘Because it’s a lot cheaper.’
‘No it is not.’
‘Have you checked?’
‘Look, you numbskull…’
He broke off straightaway.
Silence engulfed the room.
‘What did you call me?’
‘A bridge is cheaper to build than a tunnel.’
‘That wasn’t the question, numbskull.’