Blame it on the Onesie: A romantic comedy about work, water and wine

by CJ Morrow

  ‘You okay Sam?’

  ‘Feeling better,’ Sam shouted back, although Ella could hardly hear her because the cubicles walls went from floor to ceiling. ‘Won’t be long.’

  ‘Okay,’ Ella shouted. Then decided that since she was there, and the toilets were so nice, she might as well use them. Who knows what they might find at Spring Cottage, if it had been empty so long, the water was probably turned off.

  Ella pushed open a cubicle door; there was large money box on it with a slot saying 1d. She wondered how much that was but was glad it didn’t seem to need a coin to open it now. The door closed behind her with a reassuring clunk.

  Then she heard Sam’s door close with a clunk too. Good, Sam must be feeling better.

  ‘Wait for me,’ Ella called, but Sam didn’t answer.

  Ella pulled the chain – also brass, with a porcelain pull on the end – then turned the handle to open the door. Nothing happened. She pulled it harder. Still nothing happened. It was stuck solid, so solid that it felt as though it wasn’t a door at all. She tried lifting it up, a trick that usually worked, but there was still no movement. The door was well and truly stuck and because the cubicle was floor to ceiling there was no way to escape. Ella spotted a window, tiny and six feet from the ground, even if she could have reached it, which she couldn’t, it would be no good, it had bars across it.

  ‘Sam,’ she shouted, filling her lungs with air before shouting again, even louder, ‘Sam.’ She waited for Sam to shout back. Nothing.

  Ella shouted again, then started banging on the door, she banged the door so long and so hard her hands hurt. If only she hadn’t left her phone locked in the car.

  ‘Sam,’ Ella shouted and banged the door again. Where the hell was Sam? Bang, bang, bang, bang, bang. Ella stopped to get her breath. ‘Sam,’ she called out again.

  ‘Ella?’ Sam’s voice was muffled and distant.

  ‘Sam, I’m stuck in here.’ Ella banged on the door again.

  ‘Ella. I’ll push the door.’ Sam’s voice was clearer now that she was immediately behind the door. Whether Sam pushed the door or not, it was hard for Ella to tell, because it didn’t move, not even a rattle. ‘It’s no use,’ Sam shouted. ‘I’ll get help.’

  Ella put the toilet lid down and slumped onto the seat. This is a good start, she thought.

  Suddenly the door was being rattled; she heard a tiny little clunk and the door swung open. A rosy cheeked man gave her a big beaming smile.

  ‘Sorry it took so long,’ he said, ‘we had to get the penny. It’s free to go but you have to spend one to get out.’ He chortled away to himself.

  ‘Thank you,’ Ella said, wondering what the hell he was talking about.

  ‘’I’m Walter,’ he said, putting his hand out to shake.

  ‘Oh, do you mind if I wash my hands first?’

  ‘Of course, of course,’ he roared, stepping aside to let Ella out of the cubicle. He hovered while she washed her hands, keeping too close and crowding her. When she’d finally dried them he held out his hand to shake hers again. ‘I’m Walter, most call me Walt. And you must be a Taylor.’

  Ella narrowed her eyes. ‘My name is Taylor. Yes, but…. Ah, I suppose someone told you I was coming.’

  ‘No, no. But we’ve been expecting you. We’ve had a long wait. Come on and meet some folks.’

  Ella followed Walt out of the toilets and was met by a crowd of seven, including Sam who was deep in conversation with a woman called Edna who turned out to be Walt’s wife. When Ella appeared they all clapped.

  ‘What have you been telling them?’ Ella said to Sam after she had shaken hands with everyone. ‘It feels weird; they’re treating me like royalty.’

  ‘I haven’t told them anything, well, other than you were stuck in the loo.’

  ‘You told them my name,’ Ella said as they got back into the car.

  ‘No, I didn’t. I just said my friend was stuck in the loo. They said that happens a lot and they had to get the old penny, they keep it in the shop; apparently it’s the only one.’

  ‘Mmm?’

  ‘I’m sorry. That was all my fault. If I hadn’t been sick…’ Sam’s voice trailed away.

  ‘No, it was just my typical luck. All I meant was how weird that they knew who I was. That’s all.’

  Ella turned the key in the ignition and waited for the satnav to start up, then they drove two hundred yards around the corner and reached their destination.

  Spring Cottage was tucked away on a corner plot with a front garden three feet high in weeds and grass.

  ‘Oh. God.’ Ella stared over the steering wheel at it. ‘What a dump.’ Her eyes took in the peeling paint, the dirty windows, the greying thatch which seemed to comprise most of the cottage, leaving barely ten feet of grubby grey-white painted stucco below. ‘And I hate gardening. I did tell that Mr Cake that. What a disappointment.’ Ella switched off the engine and took the key out of the ignition. ‘I suppose we’d better have a look,’ she said, grabbing her handbag and fishing inside for the keys. ‘I wonder if it’s too late to change my mind and take the money. You ready, Sam? Sam?’

  Sam sat staring at the cottage too. Her mouth and eyes wide open. She turned to Ella and shook her head. ‘Ella, how can you be disappointed? It’s the most amazing place ever.’

  Ella glanced at Spring Cottage again, still unable to see anything other than a big dump.

  ‘Yes, it probably needs some work,’ Sam said as they got out of the car, ‘but just look at it. Just look.’

  ‘I am. It’s a shit hole.’

  ‘Oh Ella, no. How can you say that?’

  They reached the front door – green peeling paint, the door handle covered in cobwebs. Ella pointed to them, made a told you so face at Sam who went white and Ella worried she might be sick again. Ella fumbled with keys, trying the largest one first, it didn’t fit, but the second one did.

  Finally inside and leaving the door wide open to let some fresh air in and diffuse the fusty overwhelming stench of damp, Ella took in her surroundings. They were in the hallway – a set of very narrow, rickety stairs in front of them, yellowing rosebud wallpaper which might have been nice fifty years ago (and it was hanging off in places), a set of coat hooks so high on the wall Ella would never reach them, grubby oak doors to the left and right.

  ‘Which way?’ Sam asked.

  Ella shrugged then opened the door on her left. A big, dark room, beamed ceiling, flaking paint, more revolting peeling wallpaper, sticky carpet to rival the one in The Swannie. There was a shabby, tiny sofa, one chair and a coffee table in front of an enormous inglenook fireplace.

  ‘Wow,’ said Sam.

  ‘What?’ said Ella. ‘How can you say wow?’

  ‘Yes, it needs work. But look at the potential. This place will be amazing. You are so lucky, Ella.’

  Ella didn’t reply, just walked through what she supposed was the sitting room and went through another door. Another room with some tatty bits of furniture in it, everything covered in dust, another fireplace.

  ‘Does any of it look familiar?’ Sam asked, lifting the lid of an oak chest then dropping it rapidly.

  ‘No, not at all. There weren’t many photos in my mum’s albums of the cottage and none of the inside.’ They stepped through into the kitchen; another huge fireplace, an enormous oak dresser complete with floral plates – all thick with sooty dust.’

  ‘Vintage chic.’ Sam walked over to the dresser and attempted to blow the dust away.

  ‘Not even shabby chic, Sam. But this looks familiar.’ Ella stood next to the Belfast sink and solid fuel cooker. ‘I have vague memories of cakes coming out of this.’

  ‘Is that an Aga? They’re worth a fortune. You can get it refurbished.’

  ‘It’s not an Aga. It’s a …’ She grabbed a crusty tea towel that was hanging over the taps and used it to rub away some of the dust on the cooker. ‘Well, I still don’t know what it is, it’s ancient. And horrible. Like everything else in here.’


  ‘The dresser is gorge, and that table, look eight chairs. This place is enormous.’ Colour had returned to Sam’s face and she was smiling excitedly. ‘I wish it was mine. Let’s see what upstairs is like.’

  The stairs were steep, narrow and creaky, the carpet threadbare, the handrail wobbly.

  The landing was small and made dark by the five doors which led from it all being closed. Ella quickly opened a door to let light in. A big room, a brass bed, a little fireplace, a neat stack of wood in it, covered in soot. All four bedrooms were similar. The bathroom was tiny, cramped and not at all appealing.

  ‘I’m glad we used the loo before we got here,’ Ella said. ‘Even if I did get locked in. And humiliated.’

  ‘Me too.’ Sam glanced in the toilet and mock-gagged.

  ‘Glad I never gave up my job,’ Ella said as she started to walk down the stairs.

  ‘But you’ve signed the contract. You have to live here.’

  ‘No. I’ve been through the contract and if I don’t take up residence within three weeks of signing, then everything is null and void, just as if I never even knew about it. Shame I never saw it first, I could have taken the money and run. Too late now.’ She paused. ‘Stupid me.’

  ‘What’s the back garden like? Let’s check it out.’ Sam took Ella’s arm and guided her outside. It was massive, laid out like an allotment. But it was overgrown with waist high weeds even worse that the front garden.

  ‘And, according to the contract I have to get that in order. I’m so glad I haven’t told anyone else about this. Did you notice there’s no heating?’ Ella shook her head. ‘Let’s go. Otherwise I might start crying.’

  Sam waited while Ella locked the cottage door.

  ‘Hello again, Miss Taylor,’ a male voice called. Ella and Sam turned. It was Walt. Again.

  ‘Urgh,’ Ella muttered under her breath.

  ‘Hello there,’ Sam smiled over at him. Walt seized his opportunity, taking Sam’s smile as an invitation and headed straight for them.

  ‘Urgh,’ Ella muttered again.

  ‘So, Miss Taylor, what do you think? Handsome isn’t she?’

  ‘Who?’ Ella and Sam chorused.

  ‘Spring Cottage. Handsome. She’s been waiting a long time for you.’

  ‘Mmm.’ Ella started walking towards her car, beckoning over her shoulder for Sam to follow.’

  ‘Ella’s a bit disappointed. It’s very dilapidated,’ Sam said to Walt. ‘Not quite what she was led to expect. She feels it’s too much for her.’

  ‘Get help,’ Walt called after Ella, who already had her car door open. ‘I hear there’s plenty of money for it.’

  ‘Is that right?’ Sam caught up with Ella. ‘You didn’t tell me that bit.’

  ‘Oh yeah. Well, I doubt it’s enough for that.’ She gave the cottage a withering look. ‘It needs pulling down.’

  ‘Why don’t you girls come in and have a cup of tea.’ Walt gave them his best beaming, apple cheeked grin.

  ‘Said the spider to the fly,’ Ella whispered in Sam’s ear.

  ‘My wife’s just baked a cake. She must have known you were coming.’ He gave out a loud chuckle. ‘Come on, we’re going to be neighbours.’

  ‘Neighbours?’ Ella glanced up at him.

  ‘Yes. We live next door.’ He pointed to his cottage. Now that looked enticing; a beautiful cliché cottage.

  ‘I could do with a drink and something to eat, Ella,’ Sam said quietly. ‘Why not?’

  ‘That’d be great. Thanks.’ Ella sighed, shut her car door, locked it.

  Walt’s wife Edna sat at the kitchen table with a big pot of tea, four cups, saucers and plates and an extravagant cake under a glass dome. She jumped up to greet them.

  ‘You made that. Wow.’ Sam eyed the cake. ‘It looks yummy.’

  ‘I think your pregnant self got the better of you in there,’ Ella said to Sam two hours later as they were driving out of the village.

  ‘Oh, come on. The cake was lovely. They were lovely. Their cottage is lovely. Don’t be such a misery.’

  ‘They wanted to know all my business. They’ll always want to know all my business, they’re that type.’

  ‘They told you more than you told them. At least now you know a bit about your aunt and uncle. At least you know why they knew you were a Taylor, because you do look like your uncle in the pictures they showed us.’

  ‘Suppose so,’ Ella said. She had to admit she did know more; they’d died within days of each other, they were really very, very old. Ninety-five, at least, Edna thought. But then Edna and Walt had admitted to being well over seventy. ‘They look good for their age, don’t they?’ Ella mused out loud.

  ‘That’s what it’s like in these villages. That could be you.’

  ‘Thanks.’

  ‘Well you know what I mean. I loved their cottage. Their range was just like yours, only clean and working.’

  ‘Yes.’ Ella thought about Edna’s kitchen, a proper country kitchen suitable for a country cottage. She struggled to imagine Spring Cottage looking like that.

  ‘So, what are you going to do?’

  ‘I’m going to have a shower when I get home, I feel filthy.’

  ‘I didn’t mean that. You know what I mean. What are you going to do about the cottage?’ To Ella, Sam’s voice sounded too upbeat, she was trying too hard.

  ‘I don’t know. I need to sleep on it. In the meantime I’m going to stay in and watch a film, or something.’

  ‘Charlie’s out. He messaged me, they’ve got someone, they want to practice with him tonight. Why don’t you come round? We could have a girly night, manicure, pedicure, watch Bridget Jones again, again.

  ‘No. That’s okay. I need some time to think.’

  ‘If you change your mind,’ Sam said, as Ella dropped her off at home, ‘let me know. Offer’s still there. We could order pizza.’

  ‘Bye Sam.’

  Ella let herself into her bedsit. It looked sad and forlorn. She thought of the bedrooms at Spring Cottage, each one twice the size of this bed-sitting-kitchen-bathroom combo. But so much work. How could she cope?

  She had a shower, washed her hair, wrapped it in a towel, pulled on her Kermit onesie and looked in the fridge.

  Someone knocked on her door. She took the few steps towards her front door and peered through the spy hole. It was that damn Hal. Again. He kept knocking.

  ‘I know you’re in there.’ He was worse than Walt and Edna. Why couldn’t people just bugger off?

  He kept knocking.

  Ella opened the door enough to show her head.

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘Having a few friends round tonight. Thought I’d better invite you, cos it might get rowdy.’ He laughed and his eyes crinkled up and he looked so sexy. ‘You could wear that if you wanted.’ He nodded at her onesie, even though he couldn’t see much of it.

  Ella thought about his friends, wondered if they were all leggy and blond.

  ‘Thanks.’ She beamed at him. ‘Bit short notice for me. I’m already going out. Don’t worry about the noise; I’ll be back really late.’

  ‘Oh. Right.’ That took the wind out of his sails. ‘Only you don’t, do you, normally go out on a Saturday night?’

  ‘Not since my mum died, no. I haven’t felt like it. But, you know, getting back into it now.’

  ‘Oh. Right. Sorry. Didn’t know. Have a good one.’

  ‘You too.’ Ella shut the door in his face, found her phone and messaged Sam.

  Six

  ‘I’m so glad you changed your mind,’ Sam said, giving Ella a big hug in the hallway. ‘You going somewhere else later?’ Sam stood back to admire Ella’s outfit.

  ‘No,’ Ella shrugged off her little fur jacket and hung it over the banister.

  ‘Oh. Only you look as though you’re going clubbing.’

  ‘Hunky Hal invited me to his place…’

  ‘Wow. So you’re going there later?’

  ‘No. It wasn’t just me. He only invited
me because they’ll be noisy and he didn’t want me complaining. Couldn’t let him think I’m a Saturday-stay-at-home-Suzie-saddo, could I? Even if I am.’

  ‘Forget him.’ Sam waved her arms in the air as though swatting a fly. ‘You haven’t eaten have you? I dashed out to M&S when you messaged. Picked up a few things, wine included.’

  ‘But you can’t drink.’

  ‘But you can.’ Sam guided Ella towards the big squishy sofa that curved around one end of what Sam called her living-kitchen.

  It was such a fab room, modern family living was how it had been described in the house brochure: enormous, expensive kitchen one end, dining area with glass doors to the garden in the middle, then lounge area round the corner. Ella imagined Sam and Charlie’s children running around this room by day, while in the evening Sam and Charlie would retreat to the grown up sitting room next door. She thought about Spring Cottage, grubby and quite horrible with all its conditions attached to living there.

  ‘I’m driving,’ she said, when Sam handed her a full glass of wine.

  ‘Stay the night.’

  ‘Won’t Charlie mind?’

  ‘Of course he won’t.’

  Ella took a sip. ‘Okay.’

  It didn’t take long to cook the ready meal. Ironic, thought Ella, this kitchen is amazing but there isn’t much actual cooking done in it. Sam loved M&S and Charlie loved takeaways.

  While they were eating at the large beech table which Sam had picked – Charlie had wanted black ash – Ella had another two glasses of wine; the bottle was almost empty.

  ‘Don’t worry; I’ve got another in the fridge.’

  ‘I keep telling you I can’t drink for two, just because you can’t drink. Ella laughed, draining the dregs into her glass.

  ‘We can watch Footloose then I’ve got Bridesmaids, Bridget Jones – first, not second or…

  ‘Put Footloose on, but we have to dance. Last time I put it on in my bedsit and danced the old lady from downstairs came up and wondered if I was all right.’

  ‘I’ve got some magazines too.’