She had been hard pressed not to shove said towel over Florrie’s plummy gob until she stopped breathing.
Stupid stuck up little cow that she was,
she infuriated Mollie most of the time, but add to the equation her ridiculous demands whilst insulting ‘New Look’ (Mollie loved ‘New Look’) on top of her already packed list of things to do, she was getting perilously close to the last straw. In fact, if it weren’t for the promised redundancy package, Mollie would have told them to stick it and buggered off. Unfortunately, she couldn’t afford that luxury and so she was in fact buggered. She had no choice but to grin (or grimace) and bear it.
As it turned out, Lady Sedgwick’s idea of converting one of the now empty barns into the venue had not been such a crap idea. One thing you could not fault that woman on was how to throw a party. Lady Evelyn and Florrie were something of a force to be reckoned with. Frankly there wasn’t much they were not capable of as long as the money was available. The barn now looked like something out of ‘Hello’ magazine. It had been completely transformed.
By the time Mollie had left last night the barn was sporting a dance floor, a stage, chairs and tables, a fully stocked bar, and even an enormous chandelier. The decor did indeed offer the illusion of a Wild West saloon. Mollie was stunned by the transformation - she had no idea you could do so much with MDF and papier-mâché. A top designer had been drafted in and paid a mind boggling sum of money to produce the concept envisioned by Florrie. Every detail had been covered, right down to a specialist lorry complete with luxury toilets which now rested in the field behind the barn, with its own lit-up walkway.
The Sedgwicks were certainly going out with a bang. By the looks of it, this party would not be forgotten in a very long time.
Being left with little choice, Mollie had spent the majority of Tuesday afternoon on the phone offering large sums of money to local businesses to ensure they delivered whichever service was required. The band and local DJ both immediately agreed, promising to cancel their other gigs in favour of earning several times the amount of money. Mollie felt terribly guilty and didn’t ask whose birthday, wedding or anniversary she was ruining.
She also had to use her considerable knowledge of the locals to source staff from the local pubs and hotels anywhere from within a ten-mile radius to make up the numbers of waitresses and bar staff for the caterers.
She had been allowed to draft in Lindy and her best mate Lou for the week to help her with the organisation.
Lindy worked part time as a secretary at the local primary school. It was half term, luckily, so Lindy was off work anyway and Lou had managed to take a week’s holiday at short notice from her secretarial job. They had been a couple of miracle workers as well. Mollie would never have achieved everything without their help.
Mollie is still in the dark about her job after this week. The McLaren Group had not been willing to reach a deal with Lord Sedgwick on the matter. Apparently the only person safe is Mrs Burfoot who is moving to London with the Sedgwicks, which at least saves Lord John from starvation.
The rest of them are to apparently receive letters, inviting them to interview for their own jobs.
Charming.
Lord John was at pains to impress upon Mollie that he had sung her praises to the McLarens. He assured her that he could not have done more and if they didn’t re-employ her it would be a great loss to their company. Mollie put his mind at rest: she explained that in all honesty she would not be interested in working for the group anyway. She had things she wanted to do and places she wanted to go. She almost convinced herself, but more importantly she is fairly sure that she has convinced Lord John. God knows he deserves some peace of mind in all of this.
As promised, they had all received generous redundancy packages which would tie them over for at least six months. Because of that generosity, Mollie isn’t overly concerned. She sees it as fate stepping in telling her to reconsider her career. She hasn’t had time to worry too much during the last week. She’ll have plenty of time to consider her options after today. She’s been thinking about moving away if the right job comes up.
After all, apart from her family and friends who all have their own lives, what is keeping her here?
Chapter 7
At six o’clock on Friday evening, Mollie is in the luxury toilets behind the barn waiting for Lou to finish faffing about in the loo.
Florrie wasn’t kidding when she said luxury toilets either. Quite frankly Mollie would be happy to move in. How on earth someone had managed to come up with this design in the back of a lorry amazes her.
On stepping into the room from the cold, they found themselves enveloped in a glorious perfume. A smartly dressed female attendant presented them with a free makeup bag from some designer or other and they were surrounded by opulent furnishings. There was a real tiled floor, ornate mirrors everywhere and gorgeous toiletries. An enormous gold sofa that could sleep four comfortably was in the waiting area. For those planning to spend a bit of time using the facility, a selection of magazines were arranged artistically on a glass coffee table.
The girls shrieked with excitement and rushed to sit on the plush sofa and open their gifts. They found sample pots of makeup and face creams; there was a lot of “Oh My Godding,” as they rummaged through and swapped lipstick colours.
The toilet attendant had smiled at them indulgently. She was clearly used to this type of behaviour. No doubt, from the moment they walked in she’d had them pegged as not being in the Sloane set and if she hadn’t, she certainly knew now.
Florrie owned stupid amounts of this sort of stuff in full size pots and bottles. Mollie knew this, as she was usually the individual charged with Florrie’s unpacking when they were honoured with a visit.
Checking herself out in one of the full length mirrors Mollie tells Lou to, “Get a move on! I’m gagging for a drink.”
She sways from side to side ensuring that the skirt of her electric blue, fifties style dress, is definitely not caught in her knickers. The skirt is made up of acres of material, more than she’s used to and that would be just her luck tonight. Once pissed, she would have to be extra vigilant.
Mollie messes briefly with her hair, which falls long, thick and beautifully waved down her back to her waist. Checking her makeup she ensures her false eyelashes are still attached and haven’t migrated to her cheeks. She feels satisfied that she looks good.
Lou eventually leaves the toilet and moves to the basin to wash her hands, “You look lovely. That colour is gorgeous with your eyes you know. Where did you get it?”
“Oh I bought it two years ago in France when we were on holiday, David chose it.” Mollie’s voice falters slightly. “I haven’t ever had the chance to wear it so I thought what the hell!” She smiles weakly.
Having dried her hands on the fluffy white towel handed to her by the silent attendant, Lou quickly moves to Mollie’s side and hugs her.
“Ah Moll, don’t get upset babe. It’s his loss, the tosser!” she says with feeling.
“I’m OK Lou, I think I’m getting there. I just find it hard, you know, not having him around. It still feels strange, even though I could never have him back, not now, not knowing what I know.” Mollie sighs deeply. She shakes her head and then adds more forcefully, “Christ, what am I saying? He wouldn’t come back, he’s gay. I need to get a grip. It’s not like he ran off with another woman is it? There’s no chance of reconciliation in these circumstances.” She shakes her head again and Lou gives her another hug.
Tonight is the first time she has been out socialising on her own, that is, without David. Going to the local pub with her parents or friends doesn’t count.
She misses the whole dressing up bit. She remembers how they would move comfortably around the bedroom in their underwear, fogging up the room with their various sprays. Getting dressed and adding jewellery, David would put on a tie and his watch, telling her to get a move on as he left the room, always before her.
By the time she had got herself organised and made her way downstairs David would be impatient to get going. But he would always spare the time to look her over. She would give a twirl and David would give a verdict, normally a complimentary one. He liked her to look good.
Now she realised she had been nothing more than a mannequin for him. He expected her to compliment him, too; be an unwitting participant in his game of deceit. Mollie scowls in the mirror.
Her dad had filled the role admirably this afternoon. He’d given her the once over, demanded a twirl, assured her she looked beautiful. He’d gone slightly overboard in the end, telling her how proud he was of her, blah blah blah. But it just wasn’t the same.
Mollie feels terribly sad about it all, but she is determined to enjoy herself tonight. She won’t be employed by the Sedgwicks come midnight and the new people don’t want her.
So stuff the lot of ‘em,
apart from Lord John of course, who had told her earlier to get as drunk as a skunk and be utterly badly behaved, as it happens, that is exactly what Mollie intends to do. She is going to be flirty and sexy and as badly behaved as she damned well pleases and Lou has happily agreed to help her which is bloody good of her.
What a mate.
She smiles in the mirror as Lou fluffs her hair, checks the corners of her eyes for sleep, her nose for stray bogeys and bares her straight, white teeth at the mirror.
“What are you expecting to find in your teeth?” Mollie asks with a laugh.
Lou gives her an indignant look as she puts her teeth away. “Oi, you can never be too careful. Nothing worse than speaking to someone and being totally unaware you have food stuck in your teeth. Gross, very gross!” She shudders. “Just think, Mrs Jones in the post office.”
An image of Mrs Jones floats into Mollie’s mind. The woman really does have unfortunate teeth and invariably they are splattered with remnants of her last meal, or, quite possibly, the one before that.
Eeeuggh!
“Fair point.” Mollie concedes with a shrug.
Lou is still faffing, it’s her lipstick now. She looks stunning tonight.
Lou has thick, long strawberry blonde hair. She never colours it; her hair definitely has a touch of the ginger about it, but it is striking. Lou has a dusting of dainty freckles over the bridge of her nose stretching down over the tops of her cheeks, which she hates. Her eyes are dark green. She spent most of their school years with the nickname of ‘Pippy Longstocking’. She is tall and graceful now at 5ft 9ins, but back then she had been very gangly and skinny with braces on her teeth. Not anymore. Lou has grown into a beautiful woman. She has a great figure which Mollie envies. Lou can eat pretty much anything and never puts on any weight. Mollie merely glances in the direction of cake and her thighs bubble.
Lou and her husband George were married for nine years. They got together when Lou was eighteen. George is six years older. They have been separated for nine months and she is expecting the Decree Absolute any day now.
George walked out one day after a particularly vicious argument. He is very controlling and Lou, well Lou isn’t the type to be controlled. Lou is rather wild and has a tendency to be badly behaved. George is a quiet sort of chap, quite serious really.
Lou, who had been deeply in love in the beginning, she hadn’t really noticed whilst they were going out. Only when they got married did George noticeably display his controlling side. It hadn’t bothered Lou that much, she had gone along with it for the first six years of their marriage. She had kept the peace, towed the line and reined herself in. but during the last few years things had changed. George changed and Lou got bored. They had started trying for children around the six year mark but it never worked out. During year seven they went for various tests, and it turned out the problem was with George.
Lou had been more than a little relieved to hear that IVF wasn’t an option for George. George was infertile. Lou didn’t really want to do babies anyway and the thought of being impregnated artificially by a stranger was even less appealing. Luckily George did not want to go for that option either. Lou, it seemed, was off the hook.
However it appeared not, when George began to change. He hadn’t had a large supply of fun chips in the first place, but after the bad news he seemed to lose all of them.
He started to pour his energies into his work as an architect. He worked longer hours; he liked to be in bed by nine thirty; he took up running and began getting out and pounding the pavements by six each morning. He used to adore Lou, sometimes to a suffocating extent but part of the change involved distancing himself, and he started to ignore her.
It drove Lou insane. She could cope with most of the changes, as long as George was at least attentive to her. That made it worthwhile, but to be ignored and snubbed into the bargain, well that was too much. Feeling alone and unloved Lou eventually rebelled, as everyone expected she would, and the arguments began.
Lou created her own social life. She went out with anyone who was going. People from work, friends from the town. She wasn’t above going to the pub alone and joining in with whatever activity was going on at the time. She joined a skittles team and a local book club. Lou surrounded herself with friends.
She would go for nights out and invariably turn up at home pissed, crashing unintentionally about, waking George up and causing a row.
By the time they split Lou was relieved. She was glad that George had walked out as she hadn’t been sure she would have had the strength. George had always been well off and generously signed their three bed-roomed house over to her four months ago as part of the divorce settlement. Lou is now secure and starting to be happy again.
George is seeing a woman he met at work who is five years older than him with two teenage kids who he gets on well with. Lou and George now get on well enough. It seems that things can turn out for the best.