record keeper.
‘Fine, I’ll try harder,’ I say, feebly masking the sarcasm from my voice.
‘Good.’ She pauses. ‘And tell Annie too. That girl is practically illiterate, I know she’s half Traveller, but honestly, who spells Juicy Couture as Juicy K-A-T-O-O-R?’ I open my mouth to defend Annie, but Tina carries on. ‘Look Georgie, I’m sorry about snapping at you the other day. Don’t know what came over me.’ She smooths an imaginary stray hair from her swishy high ponytail that’s scraped back so tightly her face looks as though it might burst at any moment.
‘No worries, let’s just forget about it shall we? So, have you set a date for the wedding yet?’ I say, swiftly moving on to a topic that I know she’ll love.
‘Oh yes. It’s going to be on Valentine’s Day. Only four weeks to go!’ She claps her hands together. ‘And it’s just perfect that February the fourteenth falls on a Sunday this year so everyone can come, and of course it will be really romantic, with loads of balloons and hearts and swans. And there might even be a pink unicorn!’ Her eyes widen and my mind boggles. ‘I found a place that will spray-paint one of those dinky little horses, and then I’ll get someone to strap a horn to its head, plastic of course, I don’t want those animal rights freaks coming after me. It’s going to be a-mazing. Just like a fairytale. Of course, you’re invited, but only to the evening reception. You don’t mind do you?’ I shake my head as if on autopilot. ‘It’s just that I don’t think everyone will fit in otherwise,’ she adds.
‘Of course, I understand,’ I say, thinking how being home all alone suddenly seems so much more appealing now.
‘And you’ll need to bring a plus one. I’m not having any singletons, apart from Eddie, of course.’ It dawns on me … how the hell am I going to get a plus one at such short notice? Panic surges. I’ll be the only person there without a date in tow.
Tina purses her lips while I swallow hard and glare at the display that flashes a red five. Only one more floor to go, thankfully. The lift grinds to a halt, breaking the awkward silence, and I breathe a huge sigh of relief as I turn to leave. But she pipes up again.
‘And you will come to my hen do, won’t you?’ she smiles, her finger on the door hold button. ‘But don’t worry about trying to find someone to bring along. I have sooo many friends coming,’ she says. For a moment I’m speechless, but I don’t want to give her the satisfaction of knowing that she’s riled me, so I manage a grimace.
‘Thanks, sounds marvellous.’ I step out of the lift and, turning my back, mutter, ‘Can’t wait,’ under my breath, just as the lift starts moving again.
I make my way along the corridor towards the offices.
‘You OK? You look really stressed.’ Lauren’s head pops up over the enormous beechwood reception desk.
‘What? Oh yes sorry. It’s just other people, you know … annoying sometimes,’ I say, feeling flustered by Tina and the ridiculous competition she seems to have pulled me into. ‘How come you’re up here and not in the cash office?’
I notice that her eyes are swollen as if she’s been crying.
‘Oh, the new big boss wants me meeting and greeting. Talking of which, Maxine has insisted that I come and sit here all day. Said it looks more professional and that she doesn’t have time to keep coming to the door to get people herself. I have to run around after her constantly, meaning I can’t even get on with any of my real work. And now Tina’s told me that I’ve got to stay late to catch up,’ she sniffs. I shake my head. I bet she has, she’ll not want to miss an opportunity to exert her authority.
‘You poor thing. How’s Jack?’ I ask, remembering her baby.
‘He’s gorgeous, and he can just about walk now,’ she says, her eyes lighting up. ‘Thanks for asking, Georgie.’
‘Don’t be silly,’ I reply, thinking it must be hard for her being on her own and having to leave him with her mum all day. Then I remember the copy of Closer in the bottom of my bag. I quickly pull it out and hand it to Lauren. ‘Here, now don’t let her catch you with it though.’ With a quick pincer manoeuvre Lauren reaches over the desk and snatches the magazine, secreting it underneath the large appointment book in front of her. She grins up at me.
‘Down the corridor, in the room on the far right. She’s waiting for you. Oh, and good luck,’ she whispers in a much brighter voice, waving her flashing red heart pen after me.
‘Thanks Lauren,’ I call back to her, and make my way off down the corridor, hoping that I won’t need any luck. Please let me keep my job, Please let me keep my job, I say as a mantra, over and over inside my head, as I make my way along the long wood-panelled corridor.
I push open the door expecting to see Maxine, but she’s not here, and by the looks of it she’s got half of Home Interiors’ stock crammed inside her spacious office. There’s an oval polished wood table to the right of the room, while framed paintings that look expensive hang on the two walls cornering the table. There are two very large open glass cabinets containing various Swarovski crystal figurines that were definitely part of Chinaware’s display just a few weeks ago. I know, because I helped Mrs Grace dust them all. Nestled amongst the figurines are a couple of framed pictures of people that I presume are Maxine’s friends or family.
Slipping my handbag from my shoulder for fear of nudging one of the paintings from the wall, or worse still, crashing into the Swarovski showcase, I shuffle like a geisha over to the two black leather sofas that are positioned in a show-home style to look like a cosy seating area. Just as I’m sinking down into the soft leather, the door flings open and Maxine sashays across the room, just like the model in the Dior J’Adore advert. She’s got the leg movement down to a tee, making me wonder if she’s actually done professional modelling before.
‘See you’ve made yourself at home,’ she says, in a breathy American Deep South accent. Ahh, hence the pageant smile, I knew it! I bet she’s the former beauty queen of Alabama or somewhere. ‘Finally we meet. The infamous Georgina. Heard so much about you.’ Maxine extends her right hand towards me, not bothering to exert herself too much as I try to haul myself out of the cushions. I manage to scramble forward, jutting my hand towards her as I steady myself with the other. Her handshake is firm, so firm that my hand smarts from the crush. And what does she mean infamous? She walks over to her desk and gestures for me to follow.
I scuttle over, clutching my bag and notepad in my lap. My chair is really low so I have to peer upwards to look at her, like some obsequious minion, which I guess is the point. ‘Now let’s see. Georgina, bit of a mouthful isn’t it?’ she says, perching on the corner of her desk. She starts doing ankle circles with a black patent Loub-clad foot, and I see what Eddie means about the playsuit. ‘What about Gina? Yes that’s it, Gina, Gina, Gina,’ she says, each time in a different tone as if limbering up for an operatic performance. ‘Yes I like it,’ she adds, pronouncing it ‘Geee-na’, and slapping her hands together with glee. ‘You don’t mind do you?’
‘Err, well actually I prefer …’ I start, but her immaculately manicured hand whips up with such speed it causes her Agent Provocateur scent to catch in my throat. So I end up spluttering instead.
‘Oh dear, not ill are you? It’s very important to be fit in the retail industry. Very exhausting on the legs,’ she says, as if I don’t know that already. ‘You are fit, aren’t you Gina?’ she adds, smoothing a hand down over her bare thigh.
‘Err,
