Rory's Proposal (27 page)

‘
Flo,’ says Sandy questioningly.

I sigh inwardly. I can
’t very well say I don’t want to do anything else that will harm Rory’s Supermarkets because I love Tom Rory, no matter how rotten
he might be. I know he doesn’t love me. If he had felt anything for me he
wouldn’t have stolen my prescription idea.

‘
Okay,’ I say meekly. ‘But I’ll do it alone. I really don’t want anyone else getting dragged into this, but thank you Adam.’

‘
Smelly fish it is then,’ says Sandy. ‘In fact we should target two stores.’

I
t’s getting worse.

‘
I can’t be in two places at once,’ I say.

‘
What about you Mrs R?’ asks Ryan.

Oh no, I don
’t think so.

‘I rather think my m
other is more of a liability to our cause than an asset. Sorry Mum but you know it’s true.’

‘
I’d much rather do the food,’ she confesses.

‘
I’ll do it,’ sighs Rosalind, twisting her long blonde highlights and securing them with a scrunch at the top of her head. ‘After all I’ve done bugger all so far and let’s face it no one will suspect the mum with the baby on her back will they?’

‘
Yey,’ exclaims Sandy. ‘Two targets at the same time. That will throw them.’

The meeting moves onto the protest and
Mum shares her catering arrangements. Ryan offers to get the raffle tickets and Adam surprises us all by saying he can get goldfish for the children while I find myself wondering where it all went wrong. There I was happy as Larry, well as happy as one could be, and then Devon dropped her bombshell and Tom Rory banged me up the backside in a manner of speaking. Life hasn’t been the same since and I imagine it never will be after I’ve strolled through Rory’s with a stinky fish in my bag.

Tom

‘
I’m sure you won’t be surprised Tom, but the first thing we’d all like to discuss is the Church Lane business,’ Brian says, studying me closely. ‘It seems the whole thing has got a bit out of hand if you don’t mind me saying.’

I loosen my tie and stand up to open a window.

‘I know all publicity is good in the long run but there’s been some negative stuff about Rory’s in the papers,’ agrees Martin Chambers. ‘Underhand dealings, that kind of thing …’

There are murmurs of assent.

‘It doesn’t sit comfortably with me Tom, to be honest,’ nods Brian. ‘I think we all agree on that.’

I sit down and lean back in my chair.

‘It’s the first thing on the agenda. I’m just as unhappy as you are about it,’ I say calmly.

I only need one shareholder to panic and we
’re in trouble.

‘
There is a good chance the press may approach some of you …’ Brent begins.

‘
They already have,’ says Brian sternly. ‘And I wasn’t at all happy about it …’

‘
Yes, I’m sorry about that Brian. You must refer all press people back to us,’ I break in quickly and gesture to Brent to refill the coffee cups.

‘
We have had a problem. I’m not going to deny that. I’ve had to let someone go from acquisitions; let’s just say he handled things incorrectly and against company procedures. We are working to put things right but we’re not there yet.’

There is a murmur from the directors.

‘We’ve got two empty shops and we’re getting a reputation for putting local businesses out of work, it doesn’t look good, and now we have a protest looming,’ says Martin. ‘Obviously something we thought would go away, isn’t doing that is it?’

‘
I’m presuming by the
something
you mean Flora Robson,’ I say, hearing an edge to my voice.

‘
I think …’ begins Brian

‘
Flora Robson has a beef against us,’ interrupts Martin, ‘and …’

‘
Flora Robson has every right to have a beef against us. She was treated unfairly and the deal that was made on those three shops most certainly did not follow the ethos of this company. Now, that’s done, nothing we can do to change it.’

I swipe my hand across the table, hoping to clearly indicate that it
’s behind us.

‘
But the good news …’

‘
There’s some good news is there? That’s music to my ears,’ says Martin, his voice heavy with sarcasm.

I ignore his tone.

‘Very good news, in fact,’ reiterates Brent.

‘
We’ve had an offer for the two properties either side of Flora Robson’s salon.’

There is a bemused silence.

‘Who is it?’ asks Martin sharply.

I look at Brent, who slides some papers from a folder.

‘The only thing we know about this buyer is that it will be a cash sale. They want to remain anonymous. The purchaser is using a nominee …’

‘
What does that all mean?’ asks Brian.

‘
It simply means that whoever is buying these properties would prefer we don’t know who he or she is. The nominee purchases the properties, in this case it’s their solicitor, and at a later date the solicitor will sign over the property to them. It’s most likely a property developer who is hoping to get the salon, but the point is we get rid of two troublesome plots and …’

‘
And Flora Robson?’ asks Martin.

Just the mention of her name conjures up the beautiful image of her face and her infectious laugh. I don
’t think anyone has hated me as much as her. I’ve gone over and over in my head how to explain it all to her but nothing I say now is going to make any difference. She is right. I did humiliate her. I should have told her earlier who I was. If I now tell her Grant was behind the prescriptions and the underhand sales she’ll never believe me. It will seem like I’m using him as a scapegoat and I’ll look like a victim and I’m damned if I’ll ever become that, not for any woman.

‘
That’s the next item on the agenda,’ breaks in Brian. ‘Do we counteract this protest or do we let it happen, what’s the feeling on that?’

‘
We feel,’ says Brent, glancing at me, ‘that we should let this whole thing take its natural course. We will of course do all we can to minimise damage but if you put it into perspective it is just a small protest which at the most will make the local paper. Meanwhile we are approaching Flora Robson to attempt to smooth over what damage has been done. Unfortunately she has been unresponsive to our efforts so far. Tom and I feel the less contact with her the better. We just seem to incense her even more.’

I sip
my coffee and wait for their reaction.

‘
So, we sit tight and hope it blows over,’ mumbles Jeffrey Miles.

I
’m about to answer him when Beth gestures to me through the glass doors and holds up a phone. I stand up, relieved at an excuse to leave the meeting.

‘
If you’ll excuse me, I have an important call. I’ll leave you in Brent’s capable hands.’

I take the phone from Beth.

‘It’s Michael for you, he said it was important.’

My heart sinks. Why is Michael phoning me? The only time I get a call from the head of our maintenance department is either when there is excellent news or really bad news. Why do I get the feeling this is the latter
?

‘
Michael,’ I say pleasantly into the mouthpiece.

‘
Sorry to bother you Tom. I did try to get hold of Grant but I was told he was in finance now and …’

‘
What’s the issue?’ I say bluntly, not wishing to get into a conversation about Grant.

‘
We’ve had to close two stores in close proximity, the one in Holland Park and the other in Ladbroke Grove. I thought you should know that we’re checking all the freezers are working properly. But it seems a bit of a coincidence that there is a distinct odour of gone-off fish in both stores and …’

‘
Let me know the outcome. Open up again as soon as possible and obviously put notices on the window giving a reasonable explanation. What time was it reported?’

‘
I’ll check that out Tom and …’

‘
Find out ASAP for me and get the CCTV tapes for around those times sent to me. By cab if you have to …’

‘
I doubt there’ll be anything on the CCTV …’

‘
Oh, I think there will be. I’d appreciate that Michael.’

‘
Will do,’ he says before hanging up.

I hand the phone back to Beth, check through the glass doors that Brent has the meeting under control and walk to my office. I close the door and punch in the number for the Ladbroke Grove store.

‘This is Thomas Rory. I’d like to arrange a special delivery. It’s a local address.’

I first thought I would walk to Rory
’s but I was worried that trailing the smell of a stinking rotting fish in a carrier bag just might draw attention. It’s bad enough I’ve had it in the flat for a few minutes. It now smells like I’ve got dead bodies under the floorboards. Thank God I’m in the basement or the neighbours would have me down as a serial killer. So, I reluctantly drive myself and the rotting fish to Rory’s in Ladbroke Grove maintaining phone contact with Rosalind throughout. Her piece of fish is wrapped in a nappy, apparently.

‘
That and the smell of Sadistic Harry’s own nappy should clear the joint,’ she’d laughed.

My
fish is wrapped neatly in a
Hello
magazine in between Charles and Camilla. The smell is so putrid that I have to open all the car windows. I pull into the car park, spot a space and zoom into it. I close the windows and pull my phone from my handbag and am about to text Rosalind when a tapping on the glass makes me jump out of my skin. I turn to see an old lady wearing a polka dot headscarf, tapping on the window with her stick. I wind it down just a tiny bit and she pushes her head in. I somehow think she is going to regret that. I swear my eyes are watering from the stink.

‘
Is there a problem,’ I say.

‘
This is a disabled space …’ she begins, before reeling back and choking.

Shit. I
’m going to kill a pensioner before I even make it to the store. I can just see the headlines.
Humble hairdresser murders OAP in prank on Rory’s heir
. I wipe my eyes with a tissue, not because of the sadness of the situation you understand, but because this goddamn fish is killing me.

‘
I’ll move,’ I shout.

Bloody disabled parking spaces
. I’ve got nothing against them you understand, but does there need to be so many of them? How many disabled people do you see in the supermarket? The gym is even worse, they have loads and I can honestly say with hand on heart that I have yet to see a kettle-swinging OAP, or one on the treadmill come to that. I drive around for five minutes trying to find another space. I finally squeeze my little Clio between two four by fours, both of whom have baby seats in the back and clearly should be parked in the Mother and Child bay if you ask me. I bet Rosalind got parked right away. There’s probably a bay marked
mum with baby on tit
somewhere. I wish there was one for
lifelong spinsters
, that way I’ll always get a space. What a depressing thought. Don’t think about it, don’t think about. I text Rosalind that I am about to go in and then fling open the door with the urgency of an airplane passenger
about to jump on the evacuation slide. I could certainly do with the oxygen mask. I gulp in the fresh air and reach back in for the carrier bag just as my phone bleeps. It’s Rosalind.

‘
I’m going in.’

It sounds like we
’re about to rob a bank, mind you, with the state of my finances that may well be the next plan of action.

‘
Roger that,’ I respond. I consider adding
over and out
but decide against it. Just as well.

‘
Who’s Roger?’ responds Rosalind.

I sigh. Just as well we
’re not robbing a bank. The car is getting hotter and smellier by the second. I don my sunglasses and tie on a head scarf. I glance at myself in the car mirror and nod approvingly. Yes, I’m looking more like Audrey Hepburn by the minute, sadly not smelling as good. I snatch the carrier from the back seat and try to walk confidently into the store. A man in a Rory’s shirt smiles at me as I enter.

‘
Basket madam,’ he asks offering me one. He immediately wrinkles his nose.

I shake my head.

‘I only need a few things,’ I say.

He glances at the carrier bag suspiciously.

‘Oh,’ I mumble, waving a hand dismissively and walking on. I’m so nervous that my legs are wobbling beneath me.
Just walk through the store and then leave. Don’t rush. Drop the fish into a rubbish bin when you get outside,
Sandy had instructed. I notice Sandy is good at giving instructions, but I don’t see her walking through the store with rotting fish. I stroll along the freezer aisle and make my way back along the sweet aisle. Oh, fabulous they’ve got a three for two on chocolate bars. I scoop up three Crunchie bars and continue on down the chilled aisle, the smell drifting through the store as I go.

‘
What’s that horrid smell?’ says a child as I pass her. ‘Mummy it’s making me want to be sick.’

The lady in front coughs uncontrollably. I scoot past her, grabbing two packs of Hobnobs as I go. We
’re totally out of biscuits in the salon and I’ve got to buy them somewhere haven’t I?

‘
Excuse me madam.’

I jump so much that I almost drop the carrier. I whip round and slap the elderly gentleman behind me with my handbag. My hand is gripping the carrier so tightly that my knuckles are white.

‘It’s coming from over here,’ I hear a woman say.

‘
God, it’s terrible,’ says someone else.

I see an assistant pull out a radio and feel my heart flutter with panic.

‘Spreading like wild fire,’ he says. ‘Customers overcome by it.’

Does he have to make it sound like bloody nerve gas? It
’s a fish for goodness sake.

‘
I think you dropped this,’ says the elderly man grimacing.

Oh Jesus. He
’s holding my
Hello
magazine. How can that be? I look at the carrier I had been gripping so tightly and see the hole at the bottom of it. Bugger, bugger.

‘
Thank you,’ I say, grabbing it and wrapping it in the carrier before rushing towards the exit. I skirt the flowers and am about to make my way to the self-service till when a Rory’s assistant materialises in front of me. I skid to a halt, and try to catch my breath.

‘
Daffs, three bunches for the price of two. Spring is certainly here,’ he smiles.

The
fragrance of the flowers is obviously covering the terrible stink of my fish.

‘
Or roses. Treat yourself madam. Or if you’re like my wife, get your husband to hand over the dosh later,’ he laughs heartily.

He shoves the roses under my nose.

‘Three bunches for ten pounds today, our special offer for the ladies.’

I shake my head forcefully.

‘I don’t like roses,’ I say.

‘
You don’t?’ he says, surprised.

‘
The thorns,’ I explain, edging away from him.

‘
Daffs,’ he says again. ‘Cheaper and of course there are no thorns.’

I take three bunches from him.

‘That’s the thing with Rory’s,’ he smiles. ‘Everything is so hard to resist.’

Even the boss, I find myself thinking. No, don
’t think about it, don’t think about it but how can I not think about it? I’m trying to destroy the business of the man I love. Yes, but don’t forget Flora, whispers a voice in my head, ‘he’s destroying people’s jobs every day of the week’. I turn to the assistant.

‘
Not that hard to resist. There are other shops you know. Besides do you realise Thomas Rory is putting good honest hard-working people out of work?’

What am I saying, have I gone insane?

‘Well …’ begins the assistant.

‘
And he is dishonest in business.’

Shut up Flora.

‘He gave me a job,’ he says nervously.

Typical, bloody typical.

‘Huh,’ I say.

‘
Hyacinth,’ he says shakily, holding up a plant. ‘We have an offer on these and on our lavender. Very calming is lavender, my wife swears by it …’ he trails off and looks around.

Is he trying to say I need to calm down?

‘He’s a playboy too,’ I add, feeling tears smart my eyes. It’s this bloody fish, that’s what it is.

‘
I, erm …’ stutters the assistant, while juggling the hyacinth and lavender.

‘
For God’s sake,’ I snap, taking the hyacinth and storm to the checkout.

I rush outside as assistants begin to evacuate the store. I dispose of the fish and hurry to my car. I don
’t believe it. I’ve got a carrier bag full of stuff and a bunch of daffs, not to mention a bloody hyacinth. This is getting ridiculous. My phone bleeps and I scroll in to a message from Rosalind.

‘
They had a special offer on nappies, I couldn’t not. Don’t tell Sandy.’

I look at the hyacinth and sigh. Why is it whenever we try to sabotage Thomas Rory
’s business, we end up giving him some?