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

by CJ Morrow

  ‘It’s just stuck at the top,’ she said, ‘I got it down a bit, then this.’ She waved her arms around.

  ‘How did you get your arms stuck in the air?’ Walt asked, and he wasn’t laughing although Ella knew she must look hilarious.

  ‘I thought I might be able to get it off anyway. But I couldn’t. And when you’ve undone the zip could you come back with me and get rid of the spider in my room? Please,’ she added.

  ‘Hold still while I do this.’ He pulled on the zip, nothing happened. He pulled it back up, then down again; it stuck in the same place. He made several attempts, pulling the fabric about a bit too roughly.

  ‘Please be careful,’ Ella said. ‘This dress was my mum’s; it’s vintage.’

  ‘Sorry, Ella, I think we might have to cut you out of it. It’s just not budging.’

  ‘No.’ Ella’s voice came out in a long wail.

  ‘Perhaps I could just nip the stitches. Edna has some needlework scissors; they’re very pointy; I just need to find them.’ Walt stopped pulling on the dress and left the room in search of the scissors leaving Ella alone feeling more miserable and more stupid. Her arms were aching and her hands were cold because the blood was draining from them. She bent over and shook her hands to get the circulation going. Her hair, already messed up, flopped down so she had a close up view of her split ends.

  ‘Hairdressers,’ she muttered to herself, making a mental note to book a full on pampering appointment as soon as she could afford it.

  She heard Walt approaching and stood up. He was brandishing the scissors.

  ‘Oh please be careful,’ she said. ‘This dress means a lot to me.’

  ‘I’ll try,’ Walt said, ‘but I do wish Edna was here. Maybe you could wait.’

  ‘What time is she back?’

  ‘Tomorrow. Afternoon.’

  ‘I can’t wait ‘til then.’ Ella heard the whiney tone in her voice. ‘I’ve got to go to work tomorrow.’

  ‘Maybe I can help,’ a voice said from behind her.

  ‘You. It would be you, wouldn’t it? Of all the people, it has to be you. You’re everywhere. Are you stalking me?’

  ‘Do you want me to help or not?’ Nathan said, stepping forward and taking the scissors out of Walt’s hand and laying them on the table.

  Ella felt herself becoming hot again; she was ramping up for another hot, sweaty panic.

  ‘Okay. Yes. Go on.’

  ‘Please yourself,’ Nathan said. ‘You’re not doing me any favours.’ He turned to walk away.

  ‘Yes, please. Please.’

  ‘Okay. Bend over.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘When you were bending over, wiggling your arms about, I noticed that the fabric was looser. Let’s try it that way.’

  ‘You were watching me? You were watching me.’

  ‘Not for long.’ Nathan smirked. Ella wanted to kick him. ‘Bend over.’

  Seething, Ella bent over and Nathan tugged at the zip.

  ‘Is it moving?’ Ella said, sounding as desperate as she felt.

  ‘No. Stretch your arms further forward and pull your shoulder blades together.’

  ‘Are you joking?’

  Nathan didn’t answer but he put his hands on her back and pushed her shoulders blades together. Ella could feel the warmth of his hands through the dress.

  ‘Don’t move,’ he whispered, then he pressed down on her back and tugged the zip.

  Ella felt it move, heard it go all the way down. She let out a long sigh of relief. ‘Thank you,’ she said, standing up. The dress slid off her shoulders and started to fall down her front, she grabbed it, pulled it up. At the same time Nathan reached over and pushed it back onto her shoulders.

  ‘Come on then,’ Nathan said, taking his jacket off the back of a kitchen chair. ‘Did you say something about a spider in your bedroom?’

  Ella nodded, at the same time shuddering.

  ‘Let’s go and get it. Night Walt. I’ll see you tomorrow.’ He stepped aside so Ella could lead the way and as she passed him, still clutching the dress to her neck, he wrapped his jacket around her shoulders. He didn’t say a word.

  In her bedroom she pointed to the spider, still swinging in a carefree way on the window, then slipped into the bathroom. Her frog onesie was hanging on the door hook; she got out of the dress and into the onesie then went back into her bedroom.

  ‘All done,’ Nathan said, turning to face her.

  She screwed up her eyes. Was he telling the truth?

  ‘What did you do with it?’

  ‘I opened the window and threw it out. Don’t worry, the window is shut now, it won’t get back in.’

  ‘What did it look like?’

  ‘A bit cross. Then it said it didn’t want to go outside.’

  ‘Ha ha.’

  ‘You’re welcome,’ Nathan said.

  ‘You should have killed it. Then I’d know it was gone. You definitely threw it out, didn’t you? You’re not just saying that.’

  ‘Yes. I definitely threw it out.’ He looked her straight in the eye, didn’t flinch or look away as he spoke.

  ‘Okay. I believe you. Thank you.’

  ‘Like I said earlier, you’re welcome.’ He picked his jacket up off the bed and shrugged it on.

  ‘Thank you for helping me,’ Ella said, sheepishly. ‘Thanks for everything.’

  ‘No problem.’ He followed her down the stairs.

  ‘Where did you go in your nice dress?’ he said at the door.

  ‘Theatre with Hal.’

  Nathan made a disgusted face.

  ‘I know you and Hal don’t get on. He told me what happened.’

  ‘Did he? Told you what exactly?’

  ‘Told me you broke his sister Phoebe’s heart and then punched him.’

  Nathan stared into Ella’s face then went through the door and stepped out into the night.

  ‘Night,’ Ella called. ‘Thanks for everything.’

  But Nathan never answered and he never looked back.

  Sixteen

  The cavalry was already at work in Ella’s garden when she got up; she could hear the old ladies singing. She ran down and boiled a kettle for a strip wash, then hurriedly toasted her last slice of stale bread before going outside to see them. She’d have to make it brief, because she didn’t want to be late on her last ever day at Gubbins.

  ‘Young Ella,’ Walt greeted her. ‘I hope we didn’t disturb you.’

  ‘How long have you been here? It’s only just after eight.’

  ‘Around seven,’ Walt said. ‘We like to get a good start. We’ve already started sowing; you’re going to have a bumper crop this year.’

  Ella watched one of the old men carry a full watering can over to a row of canes and start watering.

  ‘Where did you get the water from?’ Ella said, fearing the answer.

  ‘Tap.’ Walt nodded in the direction of the cottage and Ella saw the tap secured to the side wall.

  ‘Please tell me that doesn’t come out of the spring.’

  ‘Of course it does,’ one of the old ladies said as she turned it on and filled a tin cup.

  ‘Don’t drink that. Please don’t drink that; it’s got dead goat in it.’

  The old lady smiled and knocked it back anyway, then smacked her lips, before hanging the tin cup on the tap handle and skipping up the garden path. She turned and winked at Ella.

  ‘You get off to work; young Ella and we’ll crack on with this.’

  ‘But Walt, that water’s contaminated. No one should be drinking it.’

  ‘Ella,’ said another old lady, ‘we’ve been drinking it for years, and it’s never tasted so good.’ To prove the point she too helped herself to a cup full and drank it back in one go.

  ‘Go to work,’ Walt said, giving Ella a friendly nudge.

  ‘Don’t blame me if you’re all dead when I come back. I did warn you,’ she muttered on her way to the car. The cavalry seemed to be drinking the water in defiance of her. But she h
ad to admit they seemed to be getting friskier by the day. She must remember to ring the water company when she had the chance.

  There was an air of restraint and politeness at Gubbins that Ella found comforting. After the weirdness of the last few days she welcomed normality, however dull. She’d always hated Monday mornings – didn’t everyone – but today even that feeling was welcome; it was normal. And, of course, she wasn’t going to work the whole week.

  The morning passed slowly, Ella alternated between Gwynnie and Tiffy, showing them the ropes and pointing out their mistakes as gently as she could. She no longer felt hostile towards either of them. In fact she didn’t feel anything at all; the events at Spring Cottage seemed far more demanding and important. Ella found herself staring out of the window and wondering if the cavalry had succumbed to dead goat poisoning yet.

  Her phone vibrated on the desk; a message: Sam was going to pop round for half an hour about six, with Charlie. That cheered Ella up. She’d go out to the supermarket at lunchtime and stock up on water.

  The interminable morning finally ground to an end. Ella looked at her watch, it was just after noon.

  ‘All right if I take an early lunch today?’ she said to Gwynnie who was concentrating on a tricky part of the company’s system.

  ‘Oh. No. We have plans.’

  Ella looked at Gwynnie, waited for an explanation.

  ‘Ben?’ Gwynnie called. ‘Is it time yet?’

  Ben nodded at Gwynnie and gave Ella a big smile then jumped up from his desk and came towards Ella with a bouquet. Where the hell had he been hiding that?

  ‘From all of us,’ he said, laying the flowers across her lap.

  ‘Thank you. Everyone. I wasn’t expecting this.’ Ella felt touched and a little piqued.

  ‘And we’re off to Gino’s,’ Tiffy said. ‘You like Italian, don’t you?’

  ‘Love it,’ Ella said, gobsmacked. She felt like she was becoming a regular at Gino’s.

  ‘Our treat,’ Gwynnie said. She gave Ella a brief smile.

  ‘Thank you,’ Ella said, feeling sheepish. She wished they weren’t doing this.

  ‘Come on, you’ll enjoy it,’ Ben said, once they were alone in his car.

  ‘I’m sure I will. I am grateful, I just had other plans,’ she said, thinking of the water she’d planned to buy.

  Gino’s was busy, very busy for a Monday, but a table had been booked, so they didn’t have to wait.

  ‘Whose idea was this?’ Ella whispered into Ben’s ear.

  ‘Gwynnie’s. Me and Kev were a bit surprised too. You can never second guess people.’

  They ordered from the quick lunch menu and when the food arrived so did a bottle of prosecco and five glasses. Gwynnie proposed a toast to Ella, thanking her for her hard work and for passing on her abundant knowledge and wishing her good luck in her new home. Ella felt herself colour up, muttered something about being glad to help and took a big gulp of the prosecco.

  The food was good and because Ben, Kevin and Ella had a pudding, lunch overran. By the time they got back to the office they’d been gone almost two hours.

  Ella felt sleepy, that was the trouble with a big meal at lunchtime, especially pasta, as well as a glass of wine. As she sat next to first Tiffy, then Gwynnie, imparting her abundant knowledge, she had to make fists that pushed her nails into the palms of her hands to keep herself awake.

  Finally it was home time; finally she could collect today’s money, say her final farewells and leave. She watched the clock on Gwynnie’s computer as the minutes ticked away.

  ‘You couldn’t just hang on and show me this one last thing, could you?’ Gwynnie said, logging onto the system.

  ‘Of course,’ Ella said. She could hardly say anything else after the kind words, the bouquet and the lovely lunch. Ironically if they hadn’t gone for the lunch they would be finished now.

  Thirty-five minutes later Ella and Gwynnie were finally done. Ella collected her money envelope, said goodbye and dashed out into the car park, she didn’t even get the opportunity to go to the loo. She would just about have time to get home before Sam and Charlie turned up. She hoped the traffic wasn’t too bad.

  Sam and Charlie were already sitting outside when Ella pulled up. They opened their car doors at the same time as Ella did. Ella stumbled towards her friends, carrying the bouquet from work. Sam eyed it then glanced down at the one she was carrying, smaller and obviously less expensive.

  ‘Flower day,’ Sam said, offering the flowers to Ella.

  ‘Oh thank you, they’re lovely. Come in, come in, but don’t expect anything too grand.’

  They burst through the front door and into the hallway, Ella glanced at the cellar door just in case, but it was closed. Everything was fine.

  In the kitchen Ella laid the two bouquets of flowers on the kitchen table next to the bucket containing Hal’s giant bouquet.

  ‘Flower central,’ Sam said, laughing, then produced a card from her handbag.

  Ella opened it. Be happy in your new home; Ella stood it up on the windowsill. ‘I just need to run up to the loo, then I’ll give you the tour. Won’t be long,’ she said, dashing up the stairs.

  When she came back Charlie had filled the kettle and plugged it in.

  ‘I’m gasping for a coffee. I’ve put the kettle on, is that okay.’

  ‘Not for me,’ Sam said. ‘I’m completely off coffee and tea.’

  Thank God for that. ‘Well,’ Ella began, wondering if boiling it would do the trick and Charlie wouldn’t be poisoned. And, she could do with a cup of tea herself. ‘The water doesn’t taste that good. Old pipes. You know.’ Should she tell them about the goat? No.

  ‘Tastes pretty good to me,’ Sam said, ‘I’ve just had two big glasses.

  What. Oh. My. God. It was too late now.

  ‘Excuse me a minute, I’ve left something upstairs.’ Her handbag was on the bed where she’d flung it earlier. She got her phone out, dialled Nathan and prayed he’d answer.

  ‘Ella,’ he said. ‘To what do I owe the honour?’

  She wanted to tell him to get a better line but didn’t have time. ‘Never mind all that. Sam and Charlie are here and Sam’s drunk the water.’

  ‘So.’

  ‘The bloody goat water, from the spring. What should I do?’

  ‘Nothing.’

  ‘She’s pregnant and you’ve poisoned her. She might lose the baby, or,’ Ella put her hand to her mouth and gasped, ‘it might be deformed. It might be…goaty.’ She couldn’t think straight. She heard Nathan laugh.

  ‘She’ll be fine. Probably better than fine,’ he said, amid his amusement.

  ‘It’s not bloody funny. She’s drunk water with a dead goat floating in it.’

  ‘No. It’ll have broken up by now; that spring is very fierce at the moment. Very active.’ He laughed some more.

  ‘It’s not bloody funny,’ she screeched again, ending the call and throwing the phone down on the bed. She’d have to go and face them now; she’d have to tell them the awful truth.

  Downstairs Sam and Charlie had seated themselves at the kitchen table. Charlie had found one of Ella’s largest mugs and made himself a coffee.

  ‘We’ve made you a pot of tea,’ Sam said, pushing the teapot towards her.

  Ella slumped into a chair, watched as Sam poured out the tea and added milk and sugar, stirred it and handed it to Ella. She took a sip, it tasted so good. Oh what the hell. Too late. The damage was done now.

  ‘How was work?’ Sam said just as Nathan bounded in through the door.

  ‘Doesn’t anybody ever bloody knock in this damn village?’ Ella shouted, spinning round to see his grinning face.

  ‘Work that good, eh?’ Sam said, rubbing Ella’s hand. ‘At least you don’t ever have to go back again.’

  ‘Nathan, mate.’ Charlie jumped up and the two exchanged a thumping, manly handshake.

  ‘So you’re allowed out now, Sam,’ Nathan said, as he kissed her on the cheek.

  ‘As
long as I don’t overdo it,’ she laughed.

  Ella glared at Nathan, then mouthed ‘goat’ silently at him behind Charlie and Sam’s backs.

  ‘You look good. You’ve got a lot more colour in your cheeks than when I last saw you,’ he said to Sam.

  ‘Yeah, I’m feeling good. Coming out has really perked me up. Come on Ella, where’s this guided tour you promised us?

  Ella showed them round the cottage; of course they loved it. Sam made suggestions for décor and changes, Charlie marvelled at the age of the place. When they got back to the kitchen Nathan was leaning against the sink drinking tea.

  ‘Help yourself, why don’t you,’ Ella snapped at him. He smiled broadly in response and when she was close enough to him, playfully nudged her in the ribs.

  She narrowed her eyes.

  ‘What are you going to do in here?’ Sam said, spinning around the kitchen.

  ‘I haven’t decided yet,’ Ella said, a bit too sharply. ‘I mean, I’ve got to think about it.’

  ‘Are you doing it, Nath?’ Charlie said.

  Nathan shrugged, exchanged a furtive look with Charlie.

  ‘Are you not playing music at all now?’ Sam asked.

  ‘Yeah. I play down our local, The Giddy Goat. I’m there most Saturday nights, playing my own stuff.’

  ‘We’ll have to come and watch you, when we’re not playing ourselves,’ Charlie said.

  ‘That’d be fun, Ella, wouldn’t it?’ Sam waited for Ella’s reply.

  Ella thought of the shitty song. ‘Yeah. Amazing fun,’ she said, without even trying to hide her contempt.

  ‘Come on you,’ Charlie said, putting his arm around Sam. ‘Let’s get you home. You’re supposed to be taking it easy.’

  ‘Nathan’s leaving too now, aren’t you?’ Ella spat.

  Nathan didn’t respond, just wandered alongside Charlie chatting to him and Sam.

  The four of them stood in the lane, Sam and Ella hugged, Charlie and Ella hugged, Nathan and Sam hugged, Nathan and Charlie did the handshake thing again. Nathan smiled at Ella, Ella glared at Nathan.

  ‘I’ll message you,’ Charlie said to Nathan. ‘Sort out a date.’

  As Charlie opened the car doors Ella heard the familiar roar of Hal’s car as it turned into the lane. He slewed the car into the kerb and jumped out. He looked, as usual, glossy magazine fresh. He strode over to Ella, hugged her, beamed a big smile as she introduced him, vigorously shook hands with Charlie, double kissed Sam’s cheeks, and ignored Nathan who stood and watched without a word.