Authors: Mandy Baggot
‘
I didn’t mean that spending all day and night here was awful, just that it isn’t for me,’ Samantha told him as she came back along the bar and placed the tea in front of him.
‘
I’m glad for you. I was beginning to think you didn’t have a home, seeing that you eat your lunch in the sound booth,’ Jimmy spoke, toying with the tea bag and looking up at her.
Samantha let out a loud nervous laugh. It was something she always did when she felt backed into a corner. It was an affliction she had had since childhood when Mary Kennedy once suggested in maths class that Samantha didn’t know how to do long division. Of course Samantha had no idea how to do long division at the time but she couldn’t let Mary Kennedy know that. So she had done the only thing she could do, she had let out the loudest laugh she could manage and shook her head at Mary Kennedy as if the very idea of her being unable to accomplish anything was utterly ridiculous.
Jimmy was just looking at her, watching her laugh, seeing her hold her sides and bend forward onto the bar in a fit of hysterics. After what seemed like an age Samantha took a deep breath, wheezed, and raised her head, facing him.
‘
Eat my lunch in the sound booth! I’m sorry, that’s just so funny. It’s ninety five pence for the tea by the way,’ Samantha replied, still smiling with laughter.
‘
I have to say I’ve told much better jokes and had less of a reaction,’ Jimmy responded as he reached into his jacket for his wallet.
‘
Oh if only you knew how amusing that was. I mean if I ate my lunch in the sound booth that would imply I have nothing better to do with my lunch hour than sit in the sound booth and goodness that is so not true. I mean who would want to sit in a dark, dingy, sound booth on their own?’ Samantha exclaimed, rolling her eyes.
‘
I don’t know, I presumed it was a quiet place away from everything. I don’t think there’s anything wrong in wanting a little quiet now and then,’ Jimmy told her.
‘
No, for some people that’s just fine, but not me. I’m not one for quiet,’ Samantha stated, the words almost catching in her throat as she spoke them.
‘
No? So does that mean you’re a woman who knows how to party?’ Jimmy enquired, taking a sip of his tea.
‘
Party was going to be my middle name until my dad suggested Margaret. Not that my middle name is Margaret, it was just his suggestion, at the time,’ Samantha said, wishing she had never started this conversation.
‘
I see,’ Jimmy replied with a nod.
Samantha had never felt so much of a fool as she did now. What was she saying? It was like some horrid Harry Potter
style goblin had taken control of her mouth and planted random things in it. Any second now she would be talking about owls and broomsticks.
‘
I don’t have a middle name,’ she blurted out, still having no control over her voice.
‘
No? That seems a shame, since your dad had his heart set on Margaret,’ Jimmy enquired.
‘
My sister has a middle name, it’s Charlotte. Cleo Charlotte Smith. She had a spate of making people call her CC for a while, when she was younger, but now it’s just Cleo,’ Samantha continued to talk.
‘
Why don’t you join me and have some tea, you were right, it’s very good,’ Jimmy suggested, amused by the conversation.
‘
I can’t really, I’ve got all this tidying up to do,’ Samantha answered and she waved the tea towel she was holding behind her.
This only emphasised the sparklingly clean mirror and brass work, the freshly cleaned glasses, all arranged in size order and the neat rows of snacks all stacked identically.
‘
I insist, let me buy you a tea,’ Jimmy spoke, getting a note out of his wallet.
‘
No, no, that’s OK, I’ll just have a glass of water. It’s quite warm in here, must get the heating looked at,’ Samantha remarked, still perspiring due to embarrassment.
She picked up a glass and filled it with water from the mixer tap. She took a large gulp and then brushed away some imaginary dust from the bar top.
‘
So is there anywhere else you work in this building? I’m beginning to think you run this place single-handed,’ Jimmy said, looking at Samantha as she drank some more water, tipped the rest away and began to wash up the glass.
‘
I sell ice creams,’ she blurted out.
Goodness! The ice cream, she really did need to do something more permanent with those boxes.
‘
Really.’
‘
And programmes - you know, I’m one of those women who walks up and down the aisles holding a programme above her head. And in the interval I hold the programme over my head and have an ice cream tray round my neck, until it gets really busy and then I have to lose the programme because you can’t really serve ice cream one handed, not when you have to take lids off of tubs and dispense the little wooden spoons,’ Samantha babbled on.
‘
I can imagine,’ Jimmy answered, looking at her with interest.
‘
I couldn’t run this place, that’s Dave’s job. He has years of experience in managing,’ Samantha told him.
‘
D’you want to know something about Dave?’ Jimmy asked her in a hushed voice, leaning over the bar slightly to bring himself nearer to her.
‘
Oh I don’t like to listen to gossip, and it isn’t really ethical to talk about people behind their back, particularly your boss. I don’t think you should tell me,’ Samantha said immediately.
‘
Personally, I think Dave comes across as being a good manager because he’s got a strong team around him. Obviously I can’t comment on your colleagues, but from what I’ve seen today, I think you might just be holding him up,’ Jimmy told her.
‘
Well that’s very nice of you to say Mr Lloyd, but that really isn’t the case. I just do my job and that’s that. Would you like any snacks?’ Samantha offered, grabbing hold of one of the newly arranged trays and placing it on the bar in front of him.
‘
Call me Jimmy won’t you? And what about you? Are you a Samantha or a Sam?’ Jimmy wanted to know.
‘
Erm, I don’t know, I…’ Samantha began, having never been asked the question before by anyone at the hall.
Her pondering on the answer to his question was interrupted by Jimmy’s mobile ringing. He excused himself, got down from his stool and went across to the corner of the bar area to take the call.
Samantha was glad he’d gone, she felt terrible. Her heart was hammering, her face felt like it had been under a sun bed for twenty four hours and she had an awful headache. She was obviously going down with a bug. She hated being ill, unlike Cleo, who positively embraced sickness because it meant she could lie in bed all day and have Samantha bring home comfort food and Lemsip.
Was she a Samantha or a Sam? What sort of question was that? She had a name badge didn’t she? Why couldn’t he just use it like everyone else did? And what was with all the small talk? Worst of all he knew she ate her lunch in the sound booth. Or should that be he knew she
used
to eat her lunch there, she couldn’t eat it there ever again, not now someone knew. Her privacy had been violated.
She was still polishing the glass she’d just washed up when Jimmy returned to the bar and gulped back the remainder of his herbal tea.
‘
Thanks for the tea and the chat, see you tomorrow. Save me an ice cream for the interval,’ he said with a smile.
‘
I can’t guarantee it. I mean they go quite quickly and I couldn’t reserve one, it wouldn’t be fair,’ Samantha informed him.
Four thousand Berry Fruits could theoretically go in one night if everyone in the hall bought two point five each.
‘
That’s OK, I’ll send someone out to queue for me,’ Jimmy responded, preparing to leave the bar area.
‘
Well, I suppose…’ Samantha replied.
She watched him walk towards the exit. He was very tall, and lean with it. He reminded her of Patrick Swayze. A young Patrick Swayze. Patrick Swayze in his prime, with shorter, more fashionable hair. Samantha was just reminding herself to share this comparison with Cleo when she got home when Jimmy stopped walking and turned back round to face her. He looked at her and smiled, as if something was crossing his mind and Samantha froze, afraid that her thoughts were suddenly transparent. She knew she was grimacing but she couldn’t change her expression now he was looking at her. It felt like she was gurning.
‘
By the way, in my opinion - I think there’s a Sam lurking under that Samantha,’ Jimmy told her.
‘
Thank you,’ Samantha blurted out and then she felt herself blush violently.
Thank you?! Thank you?! What on Earth was she saying thank you for?! It wasn’t a compliment, it was a statement, his opinion. She was a complete idiot.
‘
By the way, apparently there’s a new wine bar opening tonight - might be where your customers have gone.’
‘
Thank you,’ Samantha repeated, unable to say anything else.
Goodness she really needed him to leave.
‘
See you,’ he replied, still smiling at her. Then he left the building.
She felt completely faint now, like she was going to collapse at any moment. She took the freshly polished glass and refilled it with water, guzzling it down greedily in the hope of stabilising herself. What was the matter with her? If Cleo had brought home an infection from the estate agents she would not be happy, she had a lot to prepare for tomorrow night’s show and as good as Dave was at talking the management talk, she had to admit he didn’t have a clue when it came to detail. Detail was Samantha’s forte. Small talk with ice skaters was not.
It was close to midnight when Samantha arrived home. The second she opened the front door she knew Cleo had company. She could smell a mixture of incense and essential oils and she could hear Luther Vandross. The ultimate giveaway was the pair of size ten brogues sitting by the front door. Brogues! Samantha thought the only person who wore brogues any more was her father and the odd accountant or estate agent. As her mind offered the last occupation it all clicked into place and she assumed Cleo, having been turned down in favour of the Pigeon Association, was now entertaining one of her colleagues. She was certainly a fast worker!
Samantha smiled to herself and headed upstairs. She paused outside Cleo’s bedroom door and listened. She could hear hushed talking so she knocked.
‘
Go away! Can’t you read?’ Cleo shrilled back immediately.
Samantha looked down at the door handle, on which was hanging a black coloured crystal. After Samantha had once burst into the room unannounced to be greeted by the sight of Cleo and a man old enough to be their father engaged in removing each others clothes, Cleo had designed a traffic light system in the form of coloured crystals. The green crystal meant you could come in without knocking, the amber coloured crystal meant knock once and proceed with caution, the red crystal meant knock, stop and wait for instructions and the black crystal meant do not enter, knock or even breathe too heavily on walking past the door or your life wouldn’t be worth living. Samantha had named that particular crystal The Bonk.
‘
Sorry, it’s just I‘m going to bed and you said it would be a crime if I didn’t keep you informed about things,’ Samantha called through the door.
‘
I’m not interested in anything any of those pigeon fanciers had to say - now piss off!’ Cleo called back and Samantha heard the music being turned up.
‘
He’s got dark brown eyes and a small scar under his lip!’ Samantha shouted above the music.
It was barely seconds before the door was hurriedly open and Cleo, loosely dressed in her robe, her hair all over the place appeared. She stepped out onto the landing, pulling the door to behind her.
‘
You spoke to Jimmy Lloyd again? My God he wasn’t with the Pigeon Association was he?’ Cleo exclaimed.
‘
No, he was just having a drink at the bar,’ Samantha informed matter of factly.
She liked having something happening in her life that her older sister was interested in. It was unusual for Samantha to feel that she was in possession of something Cleo was envious of. It didn’t happen often, the last time had been when Samantha unknowingly got a Prada handbag for ten pounds in the January sales. Cleo couldn’t have been more jealous then. She had practically looked green for a week.
‘
What did he have and how many? Jack Daniels? Vodka? Beer? I thought he hadn’t long come out of one of those expensive rehab clinics in America. Did he look cool? I bet he looked cool, what was he wearing?’ Cleo enquired her eyes wide.
‘
Rehab?’ Samantha spoke, shocked by her sister’s statement.
‘
Of course he’s been to rehab, I told you what he’s like, women, sex, booze, recreational drugs, it’s part and parcel of the celebrity lifestyle. So how did he look? Was he with anyone?’ Cleo continued.
‘
He’s been in rehab,’ Samantha stated again.
‘
Sam! Are you going to tell me what he said or are you just going to repeat “rehab” over and over again like a poor Amy Winehouse? What’s the matter with you? Almost everyone in
Star Life
magazine has been to rehab at some time during their career, most of them have been twice,’ Cleo spoke.
‘
But he didn’t look like someone who would do that. He had herbal tea and he liked it,’ Samantha informed her, still mulling over in her mind the information Cleo had given her.