Fandango in the Apse! Page 4

  ‘Oh, I see.’ It was all I could muster by way of a response.

  ‘Yes, well,’ she sniffed, ‘if you’d like to give me a hand we can be on our way.’

  ‘Right now? But Mum, please…I don’t want to live in a bed-sit, I don’t want to be on my own.’

  ‘Nevertheless you will be,’ she said, as she handed me the bundles of linen.

  We completed the journey in silence. I was doing my best to fathom if this was a new form of punishment my mother had dreamt up, and any minute we would be heading home once she’d made her point, when she pulled up outside a four-storey townhouse. With my belongings deposited on the step, she handed me an envelope and a set of keys.

  ‘I have given you fifty pounds to help until you get a job,’ she said, walking down the path to her car. At the gate she turned.

  ‘Your room is on the top floor. Good bye, Katie.’

  Chapter Four

  The smell of damp was my overriding impression once I had made several trips up and down the four flights of stairs collecting my bits and pieces. That in itself was a pain in the arse; each floor had those push button lights, which snapped off before I was halfway up; I had to negotiate the last few steps in total darkness.

  The furniture in the pokey room was the minimum I needed and no more. A bed, a table with two stools and a rickety old chair placed under the skylight to catch whatever light could penetrate the dirty windowpane. In the corner behind a chipboard screen was the kitchenette, if two electric rings and a sink with a cupboard underneath deserved such a grand title. I had never felt so alone in my life.

  Panic bubbled perilously close, but I absolutely refused to cry as I hung my clothes from the picture rail in lieu of a wardrobe. Living with my mother was not ideal, but definitely preferable to this dingy hole. One thing was obvious: she hadn’t shopped around.

  Pacing the threadbare carpet was no help in deciding on my next move, so I sat on the chair hoping it would actually hold my weight. Inspiration came in a flash and grabbing the fifty pounds I ran to the nearest phone box. Ten minutes later, for the first time in my life, I had arranged to meet Alison, her boyfriend Mark and a couple of other friends in town.

  I have to tell you, the appeal of what had seemed a marvellously grown-up idea waned dramatically the following morning. Nursing my first Cherry B and cider hangover, I crawled fully dressed off the bed. After rummaging in the box, I made my way to the tap and waited for the suspicious-looking yellow water to clear before drinking a full glass. I remember reflecting that I should perhaps have sipped, after vomiting in the sink for a full five minutes.

  A couple of hours later, having found the shared bathroom on the landing below, I was showered and dressed and had no option but to face the task I’d been putting off since I’d woken. A search of my jeans pocket revealed the princely sum of seventeen pounds and thirty-eight pence. Accepting I was in deeper shit than the previous day, I cursed myself for the fool I was, and curled up on the bed to bawl my eyes raw.

  However, as a person of action, rather than introspection (believe me, introspection always bore fruit I wasn’t ready to pick), I eventually sorted myself out and hit the streets looking for a job. By the end of the third day, I had one behind the till in the local supermarket. I was able to subsidise my meagre wages by buying out of date stock, and when Mrs Bunn started sending weekly parcels of freshly baked food with Alison, I was actually very well fed.

  By the time the dark evenings drew in the following year, I found myself with very little company. Mark had enrolled at Nottingham University and Alison had moved up there to be with him, so, out of desperation I joined an evening class. I had always been good at maths, and decided on a Book Keeping and Accounts course, which eventually led to a placement as a junior clerk in a finance brokers, and that is where I met Eddie Roberts, an upwardly mobile accounts manager, later known as “The Pig”.

  Eddie wasn’t my first boyfriend, Lord no. In the eighteen months since my eviction from home, I’d had a few. You see, the problem with a convent education is this: there are no boys. Therefore, as soon as you are unleashed from the confines, with just enough sex education to whet your appetite (don’t French kiss boys and never, ever kiss a boy with a cold sore… I kid you not, that was it, as told by Sister Calasanctious, the home economics teacher), you tend to go a bit wild – well, I did anyway. I think it’s a well-known phenomenon, though.

  I have to admit I was dissatisfied with most of them. Pardon me if this is distasteful to you, but my problem lay with my very first partner and his hugely endowed nether regions.

  Is it just me, or can you see the celestial input here too? How unfair to come across the biggest, erm…appendage you are ever likely to find, at a time when you are too inexperienced to appreciate it.

  To be honest, I think it ruined me for other men; they were always going to come up short from that point on. With Eddie, I was prepared to overlook his shortcomings for three reasons. He had a good job, he was a rugby player with a great body, and I was in my “I need to be looked after” mode.

  The first time I clapped eyes on him I was sitting at my desk in what was laughingly referred to as the administration department. In reality, it was little more than a cupboard, crammed with two desks, two filing cabinets and regularly used as a dumping ground by everyone who didn’t want to do their own typing. Due to the confines of our office, Suzy the occupant of the other desk preferred the door open. For this I was grateful; with the door closed, the room was stuffy and claustrophobic.

  Eddie had propped himself on the edge of a desk in the outer office. Collette Harper, a girl I’d only spoken to once, but had been hugely impressed by her false eyelashes and peroxide blonde hair, was laughing delicately at something he murmured in her ear.

  ‘Who is that?’ I whispered to Suzy. She had just rammed a chocolate biscuit into her mouth and now waved an ineffectual hand in front of her face, as if that would make the biscuit go down quicker.

  ‘Who’s who?’ she replied, while skimming the chocolate from her teeth with her tongue.

  ‘Look, him,’ I beckoned with my hand, ‘sitting on Collette’s desk.’

  Suzy bent two-thirds of the way across her desk in order to look through the door (yep, it was that close). ‘Eddie Roberts…accounts manager extraordinaire.’

  I stared at her…waiting…

  ‘And?’

  ‘And what? You asked who he was…I told you.’ I gave her what I hoped was a disparaging look.

  ‘OK…’ she relented, dipping into the packet again and waving another biscuit in the air as she spoke. ‘He is the blue-eyed boy at the moment, due to bringing in more business this year than old Harrison has in the last three. He’s got a bit of a reputation though… likes the girlies.’ Suzy’s small eyes twinkled with amusement. ‘He must be after Collette now, Paula from reception has blown him out, I think. She’s welcome to him.’

  I eyed Eddie’s muscled thigh resting on Collette’s desk as it strained against the fabric of his trousers.

  ‘You don’t like him?’ Personally I couldn’t see anything not to like: he was good looking in a blonde nicely tanned way and judging by Collette’s giggles, quite amusing to boot.

  ‘No…why would I? Not when I have my Rick at home.’

  How could I have forgotten Suzy’s Rick? In the three weeks I had been employed by Laurence & Wilson, I’d had to listen to Suzy drool on about this mysterious Nick. I was convinced he was a figment of her imagination. No man alive could be as handsome, virtuous or sexy as she portrayed him. To be honest, and I don’t mean to be nasty here, but with the best will in the world…she was pug-ugly and away with the fairies most of the time. Not for the first time I wondered how she managed to keep her job. If she had snared an Adonis, I was prepared to run buck-naked through the outer office.

  ‘So, Eddie is on the look-out for a new “friend” is he?’ Well, I thought, it was only fair to give him a choice.

  ‘Looks like it. Why? Are y
ou interested?’

  ‘Do you want a coffee to go with those biscuits, Suzy?’ I asked, ignoring her question.

  She nodded, her full mouth impeding speech again. I stood doing a mental check… I was wearing my navy skirt. I had managed to find it in a charity shop when I was looking for suitable “office clothes” before I started the job. It was well cut and expensive looking… OK, it was a little tight and maybe a couple of inches too short, but it accentuated my figure and beggars couldn’t be choosers, and until my first pay check hit the bank at the end of the week, that’s exactly what I was.

  Thank God, I had washed my hair the previous evening; it was now piled on top of my head in a shiny mass of curls. The uncomfortable night I’d spent in huge rollers was about to pay off – I hoped. Grabbing Suzy’s proffered mug and my own, I deliberately walked past Eddie, swaying my hips a little more than usual, as I circumnavigated the room to get to the kettle in the far corner. Well…come on, I had to make sure he’d seen me, didn’t I?

  ‘I watched him clocking you all the way round the room,’ Suzy couldn’t wait to reveal as I returned with the two steaming mugs. ‘I should say you’re in with a chance there.’

  Yay! Job done, I thought, although I tried to be more circumspect in front of Suzy.

  Three days passed and to my acute chagrin, especially as Suzy was in the know, there was no sign of Eddie. In an effort to mollify my bruised ego, I began making excuses for him. Obviously tallish, thin brunettes were not his thing… perhaps he thought I was too young – pathetic really. Trouble was, I was such a confident little minx in those days, I just couldn’t accept rejection.

  By the fourth day, I was out of excuses and hopping mad…how dare he? The office Lothario and he hadn’t shown the slightest interest. Well, it was his loss, I told myself, as I paddled through a summer downpour on my way home.

  ‘Katie!’

  Someone had shouted my name. I looked out from under my umbrella and spotted Eddie leaning over from the driver’s seat, beckoning to me through the lowered passenger window of what looked like a very sleek sports car. I turned and carried on towards the bus, which had with excellent timing, just arrived at the stop.

  Ensconced on the top deck, willing myself not to look out of the window to see if he was following, I fumed silently. I didn’t know if I was angrier with myself for letting the opportunity go, or him for thinking I would run when he deigned to show interest.

  The next day I arrived back from lunch to find Eddie perched on the far side of my desk, talking to an obviously flattered Suzy. Her face was ablaze with colour from the neck of her purple blouse to the roots of her greasy, brown hair and she was fidgeting with the hem of her home-made cardigan, a sure sign she was feeling uncomfortable under Eddie’s suave gaze.

  ‘Ah, there you are, Katie… I was looking for you.’ He gave me a meaningful smirk, which raised my still ruffled hackles.

  ‘Really? Why was that then?’ In that split second I knew he was going to ask me out, and I decided he could go hang himself. It was going to give me the greatest pleasure to wipe the smirk off his over-confident face.

  Eddie reached behind him and produced a ream of paper. ‘I was hoping to persuade you…’ Here it comes I thought. ‘To photocopy this report for the directors’ meeting in the morning? Normally I wouldn’t ask, but Angie is off with flu.’ Presumably Angie was his secretary.

  ‘Oh.’

  ‘Is there a problem?’ Eddie asked, a slight grin appearing as he waited for me to respond.

  ‘Err… no, not at all, just leave it there and I’ll see to it.’

  ‘Sorry to land it on you like this, Katie,’ – how did he know my name? – ‘but I need five copies, filed as per the index and bound in Lever Arch Files.’ He screwed his face up in a mock pleading manner – as if I had any choice…

  I looked at the report, it must have been three hundred pages at least; it was going to take me all afternoon and most of the evening.

  ‘No problem,’ was my less than enthusiastic response, as he removed his backside from my desk and waved airily on his way through the door.

  I was about to vent my spleen to Suzy on what a complete arse I thought he was, when he popped his head round the door again catching me out mid-sentence.

  ‘I forgot to say. Could you possibly be a love and bring them upstairs when you’ve finished…I’ll be working late.’

  At ten past seven, I followed Suzy’s directions to Eddie’s office. She said she would have stayed to help, but Rick liked his dinner ready when he got home. A likely story…but then I know I would have found an excuse to avoid unpaid overtime if our positions were reversed.

  Eddie’s office was third on the left according to Suzy; the door was open when I reached it. Eddie immediately stood up from his desk and came around to relieve me of the heavy files.

  ‘Great job, Katie,’ he said, flicking through the top folder. I tried not to show I was pleased with his praise, but being new to the job I was still unsure of myself, so praise, no matter who it came from, was welcome.

  ‘Listen, the least I can do is offer you a lift home. You must have missed your bus by now.’ There was the slightest hardening in his eye as he said this, which left me with no doubt he knew I deliberately ignored him yesterday, and what’s more…he didn’t like it. Well tough.

  ‘No, it’s OK, they run every twenty minutes…but thanks for the offer.’ I smiled sweetly at him and made for the door. Advantage me. Eddie grabbed his jacket from a coat stand and shrugged his impressive biceps into the sleeves.

  ‘I absolutely insist, Katie… look,’ he said, pointing out of the window, ‘it’s slinging it down out there.’ It would have been just too churlish to refuse again, so I agreed to meet him out front in five minutes. Hmm… advantage him.

  Eddie’s car smelled of new leather and sandalwood air freshener. He drove fast, but by the time we arrived at my bed-sit, I had agreed to have dinner with him the following Saturday night. I know. Don’t say a word… I have no willpower whatsoever.

  Saturday morning saw me trawling the shops for something to wear that night. In the end, I decided on a strapless pink and white polka dot dress. It had a ra-ra skirt and fit perfectly. I fell in love with it and had to have it – and a pair of pink strappy sandals, even though it made a large dent in my newly banked funds.

  The restaurant was lovely, although I didn’t get to see too much of it after Eddie had urged me into a seat with my back to the room. It was only later I realised that was deliberate. He didn’t want me focusing on anything but him. He, on the other hand, felt no compunction about letting his eyes stray to any good-looking girl in the vicinity.

  Further dates followed, until roughly five months in, things changed dramatically. I’d arranged to meet Eddie at his house, but when I arrived he was running late.

  ‘Be a love and iron that new shirt I bought, will you? It’s in a bag on the coffee table.’ Not bothering to wait for an answer, he headed upstairs for a shower.

  I knew where the iron and ironing board were kept, because as you can imagine this wasn’t the first time I’d been “a love” and ironed for him. I went in search of the shirt. I had never heard of the shop advertised on the side of the bag and I realised why, when I opened it and the receipt fell out. I could not have afforded to sniff the air in such a place, much less buy anything from it.

  Holding the receipt and staring at the exorbitant cost of the ordinary-looking shirt, my rage began to focus on the man upstairs. For months, I hadn’t eaten properly because of the need to look my best. It became apparent very early on that appearances mattered to Eddie. Marmite sandwiches and beans on toast had become my staple diet, except when we went out for a meal; then I always ate as much as possible in order to bulk up on calories. Now I was finding out that he spends more on his shirts than I earned in a week? Just how big a fool am I? I stormed upstairs and barged in on Eddie in the act of drying himself. Shirt in one hand, receipt in the other, I rounded on him.r />
  ‘I don’t believe you. I’m starving myself to buy clothes and you spend all this money on a shirt? Do you know how that makes me feel?’

  Eddie blinked a couple of times.

  ‘Well do you?’ I slung the shirt and receipt at him and bolted down the stairs and out of the door. Halfway down the drive, a towel clad Eddie caught up with me.

  ‘Katie, what the hell is the matter? What did I do?’ He actually looked quite shaken.

  A woman walking her dog tut-tutted as she passed and belatedly Eddie remembered his state of undress.

  ‘Come back in, sweetie, let me sort this out,’ he pleaded. I sighed, allowing him to gently push me towards the house. I couldn’t go anywhere anyway, I remembered; the last of my money had gone on the bus fare here. Eddie sat me on the sofa and knelt in front of me.

  ‘I don’t understand what just happened, Katie. Why has my buying a shirt upset you so much?’ I looked at his bewildered expression and felt the need to be honest.

  ‘It’s not the shirt, Eddie…it’s what you paid for it. It seems so unfair that you spend that much on one thing, when every spare penny I have, I have to use for clothes.’

  ‘You spend all your money on clothes…like that?’ he said, waving his hand at my outfit.

  ‘Well… y-yes.’ I was beginning to sense my new, gypsy style, summer dress was not to his liking. My stomach dipped with disappointment. I had saved for three damn weeks to buy it.

  ‘Please tell me you’re joking…you can’t have spent your wages on that…it’s hideous!’

  That was it, my face crumbled and hard as I tried, I could not stop the tears. A little while later, cuddled on the sofa with Eddie, still red nosed and snivelling, I explained how hard I tried to look good for him, and how I was getting behind with my rent as a result. He had no idea of the pittance paid to lowly admin clerks. He was apologetic when he told me he had assumed my taste in clothes was, to say the least… suspect. All those missed meals, all the dragging round the shops in search of a bargain and Eddie hated everything I had ever worn. I couldn’t help it…I started blubbering again.