Break Out The Bubbly

by Rick Adams

  For the rest of the morning, we did our jobs.

  Marilyn took over duties on front till.

  Matthew took over the lottery kiosk.

  And I attended to the shelves.

  I started, naturally, with aisle one.

  Except a strange thing occurred.

  I didn’t have to move any stock.

  I suppose that wasn’t much of a surprise.

  Milk and dairy was usually in pretty good shape, the high turnaround of its perishable nature meaning it had to be attended to rather carefully.

  Still…

  I made my way to aisle two.

  There, I was met with the same neatness.

  My suspicions were roused, but again only slightly.

  I mean, these were perishables too.

  I headed to aisle three thinking I wouldn’t mind if the bread was in order, but if the condiments were ship shape…

  Well they weren’t just ship shape, they were royalty fashioned, and then some.

  Immaculate.

  Every last label facing dead front and centre.

  From the front to the back of the shelf.

  What the hell was going on?

  This was Ginger’s patch, and she sure as heck was never that organized.

  I thought of aisle five.

  Yes, even before I saw all the meats and frozen arranged exquisitely in aisle four, I was already thinking about the champagne…

  There was going to be full complement.

  Everything was going to be alright.

  Please, please, let it be there.

  Please.

  I rounded the corner of the aisle, saw the household merchandise ordered to the letter, the number and Matthew standing in front of the champagne.

  He was marveling at it, just as I would be when I saw that it was there, that Carol had replaced it from whence she stole it, that this meant we could get back to normal, the shop, running smoothly once more before the carnage that had broken out just forty eight hours before.

  It was over, done, dispensed with and resolved because standing there before me next to the household products were…

  Empty shelves!

  Everything had gone.

  Not just the champagne, but all else too.

  The shelves were completely bare.

  Right along the whole right hand side of the aisle.

  All the drinks were missing.

  Every last one, soft and alcoholic.

  This was ridiculous.

  What on earth had she done with them?

  I looked at Matthew.

  He was looking about as vacant as the space before him.

  I saw something out of the corner of my eye.

  Movement.

  In the office.

  It was Carol.

  I charged towards the door.

  I tried to open it.

  Something stopped me.

  Something was jammed behind it, not just the squeak.

  I pushed some more.

  It gave a little.

  I called Matthew over to help me.

  He stayed gawping.

  I looked through the chink I had made.

  Carol was there.

  She was stacking boxes up to prevent me from entering!

  I shouted at Matthew to lend me his weight.

  This time, he acquiesced.

  In a moment, he was with me.

  And we pushed.

  We pushed hard.

  The door gave.

  And it gave.

  And then we were in, scattering boxes everywhere, glasses inside them shattering on impact, the noise unbelievable, our reactions even more so when we saw the transformation of the rest of the office.

  Because on top of the brand new equipment, and around the room, on the floor, to the ceiling, and up against the walls, covering every square inch of the office apart from the small gap in the centre where we all stood now were the drinks from aisle five!

  All of them, by the looks of it.

  ‘What the hell are you playing at?’ I demanded of her, ‘what are you doing?’

  She looked manically at me.

  ‘Carol,’ said Matthew gently, ‘this won’t do.’

  ‘It will,’ she salivated at the pair of us, ‘and it shall have to.’

  ‘You can’t just steal all this and store it in here,’ I gasped, ‘I don’t understand. What are you doing?’ I stared at Mathew. ‘What’s she doing?’

  Carol glared at us, but said nothing.

  ‘She’s hoarding,’ he whispered whilst smiling at me, ‘it’s a condition.’

  ‘I know,’ I said through gritted teeth, ‘she’s a freak.’

  ‘No really,’ he returned, ‘she has to protect her belongings. It’s like a stash of treasure to her, like gold.’

  I furrowed my brow. ‘She’s not Smaug, Matthew.’

  ‘What’s Smaug?’

  ‘Never mind.’

  ‘What are you two talking about?’ she breathed like the very dragon himself, ‘what are you plotting?’

  ‘Nothing,’ said Matthew.

  ‘Yes you are. You’re conspiring. Out with it.’

  ‘We just…’ he began.

  But I couldn’t bear his mollifying approach. ‘You’ve stolen the whole of the drinks aisle,’ I had at her, ‘and you’ve stashed it in here. What kind of idiot are you? Let me help you get it back out there.’

  I moved towards her, but she came at me teeth bared.

  Matthew only just got to her in time before she sunk her fangs into my arm.

  He pinned her back in the, brand new, chair and told me to get help.

  I spun on a sixpence, and crashed straight into Leafy Hollow.

  ‘Adrian,’ I effused, ‘thank God. Carol’s gone nuts. Look.’

  ‘Yes,’ he said taking in the display, ‘it’s rather nice, isn’t it?’

  ‘What!!?’

  ‘I helped her with it last night.’

  ‘You did what!!?’

  ‘Well, we didn’t want to get you young things involved, so once the shop had closed we spent the evening and overnight tidying things up. What do you think?’

  ‘Think!?’ I gasped at him, ‘I think it’s hideous. You’re not in your right minds, either of you? Matthew.’

  ‘Would you help me, Adrian?’

  He did so, smoothing down Carol’s hair, putting his hands in hers until she curled up into him and the two of them began purring with contentment.

  It might have been sweet.

  Something to behold with affection.

  If you weren’t one of four people stuck in a space no bigger than a small postage stamp.

  But things were about to get a lot more crowded than this.

  Because as Matthew moved back towards me to get away from them too, the door was tried and pushed and opened again.

  And when I saw who it was, I almost fell over backwards.

  If I’d been able to, that is.

  For standing in the doorway was Tabatha!

  ‘You’re back,’ I mouthed, ‘you’re here.’

  ‘Of course she’s here,’ barked Carol, ‘she’s been helping us with the move all night. Have you got her?’

  ‘Got who?’

  ‘Never mind, Tranter. Did you bring her?’

  ‘She’s right behind me.’

  I looked through the door and saw someone on crutches making their way, with difficulty, towards us.

  It was Sarah!

  ‘She’s not ready to leave hospital,’ I moaned, ‘she can’t even get out of bed.’

  ‘Who?’ asked Ginger vacantly as she joined us.

  Now I really couldn’t totter over, even with the shock factor.

  There were six people in the tiniest of floor spaces.

  Seven, when Sarah joined us.

  ‘What’s going on?’ I managed to squeeze out at my Manager.

  ‘Just a touch more,’ she replied.

  ‘I can’t wait much longer,’ said Matthew, ‘
I’m getting claustrophobic.’

  ‘How do you think I feel?’ I said, ‘you’re sitting full on me. Get up.’

  ‘Trouble in paradise?’ asked Leafy Hollow.

  ‘Shut up,’ said Ginger.

  ‘Ginger,’ said Tabatha.

  ‘You don’t own me,’ said Ginger.

  ‘Please,’ said Sarah.

  ‘I agree,’ I said.

  ‘Me too,’ said Matthew.

  ‘You would,’ said Carol.

  ‘Nice one,’ said Adrian.

  ‘Room for one more?’ asked Marilyn.

  That made it eight.

  ‘What are we all doing here?’ asked Ginger.

  But Carol would give no reply until the last two arrived.

  For sure, because added to the crowd soon came Matthew’s mother.

  And finally, Cynthia.

  That was it.

  Ten of us in a space made for three at most.

  ‘It’s like a nightmarish game of sardines,’ opined Marilyn.

  ‘Let’s hope we don’t all have to start kissing the first one in here,’ laughed Matthew. ‘Who was the first one?’

  Everyone looked at Carol.

  Several stomachs turned around me.

  ‘Welcome to the last meeting of the calendar year,’ she effused. ‘My apologies for not producing an agenda, but as you can see, there are several new faces amongst us. So, apologies for absence, and then we can all stop being sorry.’

  She laughed heartily.

  It echoed hollowly in the silence, even within these tight confines.

  ‘You’ve called a meeting in here?’ I said losing patience.

  ‘I have.’

  ‘Why not in the boardroom?’

  ‘That will become clear.’

  ‘When?’

  ‘When I tell you.’

  We remained quiet.

  No one wanted Carol to lose her leash when we were all stuck this close to her.

  ‘Now,’ she said, ‘apologies for absence. Oh,’ she continued looking round keenly, ‘there aren’t any.’

  And she fell to raucous laughter again.

  Again, none of us did.

  ‘What’s wrong with you all?’ she snapped.

  ‘It’s a bit difficult to relax,’ said Matthew, ‘when you can barely breathe in here.’

  ‘Exactly.’

  ‘Exactly what?’ I sighed.

  ‘That’s what I wanted to hear. Hands up who’s feeling squished. Squashed. Claustrophobic. No one?’

  ‘My crutch is raised high in intent,’ said Sarah cheerily.

  ‘Oh Sarah,’ she rejoined, ‘it is so good to see you. So, everyone’s feeling hemmed in. Is that the case?’

  ‘Yes,’ we all sighed.

  ‘And everyone’s had a good look at the drinks.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Great. Let’s go to the boardroom.’

  She began to shoo us out of the office.

  And I think we were just all so relieved to have some air and not be on top of each other that we willingly acquiesced.

  Herding us on and out through the shop (where were the customers?) and into the back, she led us up the stairs to the boardroom.

  And then we were there.

  Back in the place which had proved so inimical over the past two days.

  We all sat down around the central table, Carol at the head, and for a moment there was the most uneasy silence yet.

  Because the Manager didn’t start.

  She just stared at us as if we were the culprits rather than her.

  That got to me.

  I was incensed.

  ‘Why do we have a boardroom?’ I asked tetchily. ‘Why does a supermarket, especially one this size, need a massive meeting room?’

  She didn’t answer.

  ‘I’ve never understood it,’ I continued. ‘The shop is minimal, the office tiny, the stockroom non-existent, our communal area microscopic, yet here, sitting amongst all this smallness, is a vast boardroom. It would be alright if anything got decided upon within its walls, but it never does. Ever. As far as I can see.’

  ‘That’s because you don’t get invited to any of the meetings where things really get decided upon.’

  ‘Like what? Who’s going to dump on who next? Who’s going to stiff the next poor employee and stop them from enjoying their life? Who’s going to…’

  Tabatha shushed me.

  Again, my gall rose.

  ‘Why were you up in Adrian’s attic yesterday?’ I had of her. ‘Why have you been stockpiling all the drinks in the office when Carol fired you yesterday, and why did you visit Sarah in hospital and tell her to keep her mouth shut about things, and when…’

  ‘That’s enough, Emily,’ said Sarah.

  ‘Don’t protect her. We need to unearth what’s really happening here. Don’t we? Marilyn. Cynthia.’

  ‘I agree,’ said the latter, ‘we do need to resolve a few issues.’

  ‘That is why I have you here,’ said Carol, ‘all of you.’

  She paused.

  Matthew,’ she said warmly, ‘how did you feel in the office? Just now, what were your sensations? How did you feel?’

  ‘Cramped,’ he said uncertainly, ‘and uncomfortable. Confined.’

  ‘And when you came here?’

  ‘Relieved. But now, confused. Why have you called us together like this?’

  ‘Explain to them,’ said his mother. ‘Go on, Carol, tell them the truth.’

  ‘This is not easy for me,’ she said in such helpless manner I had simply never heard from her before.

  We endured the succeeding silence.

  ‘Would you like me to start?’ Matthew’s mother suggested.

  ‘No,’ she replied firmly, ‘that shall not do.’

  There was silence again.

  ‘I have not been in the best frame of mind recently,’ she said at last.

  I saw Ginger’s mouth open, and stared daggers at her until she shut it.

  ‘I wanted you to feel how I have been. It helps me to know that others are aware of my own experience.’

  ‘You have been feeling claustrophobic,’ suggested Marilyn. ‘You wished us also to undergo that sensation.’

  Carol smiled at her.

  ‘I have been panicked,’ she said, ‘because I have felt constricted. Whenever I have felt released, however, I have then felt confused, muddled, dissatisfied that the pieces of the puzzle have not fit together.’

  She drew large breath. ‘I have a problem.’

  Again, Ginger opened her mouth to mock.

  Again, I managed to stop her with a withering look.

  ‘As some of you know, I opened this shop after a particularly vicious break-up with an ex-boyfriend.’

  I kept glaring at Ginger, knowing exactly what she wanted to say.

  ‘It was about then that my problem began. I…’

  ‘If you don’t mind my interrupting,’ said Cynthia warmly, ‘may I offer a cautious, but well-bought piece of advice?’

  ‘Be my guest.’

  ‘I think,’ said Cynthia looking round the table and taking us all in, ‘that everyone in attendance has some idea of what has been going on here. True, some of us may not have the full picture, some not even part, but to listen to you confess everything will surely do none of us any good, least of all you.’

  ‘But I’m a thief,’ came the heartfelt response. ‘I must be punished.’

  ‘As far as I can see,’ continued my friend, ‘you have been stealing only from yourself. Ergo, the only person you have been punishing throughout this whole process has indeed been yourself, already.’

  ‘But, I, I, does everyone think so?’

  ‘Why don’t we ask them?’ suggested Adrian moving closer to her. ‘I think it might do you well to hear that the impact has been smaller than you think.’

  ‘Well it’s alright for you to say that,’ barked Ginger, ‘you’re getting the whole shop given to you, for free.’

  ‘I am not.
’

  ‘That’s what you told me, Tranter.’

  I reddened.

  ‘Carol and I are becoming joint partners. We are combining the two stores, but retaining their individuality and autonomy. No one is giving their property away for free, that is a preposterous notion.’

  ‘What about the bridge?’

  ‘It will be a walkway between the shops, so that customers have no need of descending in order to get from first floor to first floor of either premises.’

  ‘Nice one, Tranter,’ said Ginger to me. ‘Why don’t you tell us how this little affair has affected you?’

  ‘Why don’t you give us your take first?’ Cynthia said to her firmly.

  ‘I don’t have to answer you,’ she aggressed, ‘or any of you lot. It’s her who should be explaining herself to us.’

  ‘She just has,’ said Matthew’s mother, ‘and now it’s our turn. How has this affected you?’

  ‘It doesn’t bother me in the least.’

  ‘I think it does.’

  ‘Fine. It does. Or rather, she does. You can’t stay on the straight and narrow for longer than Tabatha can, but at least when she falls it’s just a bottle of brandy that gets a hammering, not other people.’

  ‘You don’t like Carol’s shouting,’ I said. ‘I’ve seen you, you recoil like the serpent you are, overpowered by someone’s aggression being greater than your own. You’re a coward, and a feckless one at that. What do you say for yourself?’

  ‘Fuck off, Tranter!’

  ‘How has it affected you?’ asked Marilyn.

  ‘It’s pissed me right off,’ she snapped at her, ‘right off. It’s bad enough having to work in this fuck hole without the boss losing her marbles into the bargain.’

  ‘So it has affected you adversely?’ suggested Tabatha.

  ‘Actually, no. I haven’t been bothered by it all. Not in the least. I got promotion, remember?’

  The management looked down at their feet.

  ‘Great,’ she said, ‘so I’m back to being a lackey. Well, I don’t care, just as long as I’m still in charge of her.’

  ‘Why do you dislike me so much?’ I asked.

  ‘Because you’re a sloth. You’re lazy, slow, ugly and fat, and it takes you two hours to get back on your perch once you’ve scavenged the forest floor for sleights, insults and anything else perceived detrimental to your condition.’

  ‘I am none of those things.’

  ‘In her eyes you are.’

  ‘Shut up, old woman. What do you know? You only arrived on the scene five minutes ago, and already you’re trying to muscle in on our community.’

  ‘But there is no community,’ continued Cynthia, ‘because you are isolated, excluded from the family which runs this store.’