Five Go Glamping (7 page)

Back at work, I roped Ayesha into helping me look for my mug and we were both on our knees sorting through the bottom cupboard in the kitchen when Ayesha pulled out the oddest looking and rather phallic hand-held food blender which sent us into hysterics. ‘Why has someone bought a food blender to work?’ Ayesha asked, genuinely puzzled. ‘It looks like a vibrator?’ she giggled. ‘Do you think it’s Juliet’s or Doris’s?’

‘Juliet’s probably.’ I snorted. The champagne had gone to my head and I’d had no lunch. ‘She must have lost it, that’s why she’s such a bitch. She’s sexually frustrated.’ We were literally rolling on the floor laughing now. For a minute. Until we realised Juliet was standing at the kitchen door, with her arms folded watching us. That’s when things started to go horribly wrong.

‘A word, Fiona.’

Juliet asked us to wait in her office while she fetched herself a drink. ‘So it’s okay for her to get a drink when it’s not break time. What a cow,’ said Ayesha, arms folded back in the chair. She seemed so relaxed, whereas my hands were trembling and I felt like I was going to be sick.

‘Oh God. Do you think she’s going to sack us?’

‘I’m not bothered if she does, I already have another job. Only come here for something to do.’

I sat up and looked at her ‘Really?’

‘Yeah, I do drinks promotions every night, get more in a night sometimes than I do here in a week – and on Fridays, Sugar Town pays me to dance by the DJ box, so seeing as I go there anyway and do that, thought I might as well get paid.’

‘So what do you do with all your money, Ayesha?’

‘Spend it,’ Ayesha said and shrugged.

‘Are you not worried about the future?’ I asked her.

Ayesha shook her head. I couldn’t understand how she was so blasé about it all. Why didn’t she have a five year plan?

The door opened and I looked down again. My stomach turned as Juliet began reading us the riot act – the business speak version.

‘Ladies, you both need to consider how committed you are to working here and consider your futures in the organisation. You need to seriously consider your motivation for staying here.’

Ayesha thought for a moment and then said ‘Yeah, well, I’m not really that committed, so I’m going to leave.’

She turned to me and said ‘Text you later, babes, yeah?’

‘Where are you going?’ demanded Juliet. ‘I haven’t finished with you. You can’t walk out.’ I had never, ever seen her so cross. She was purple and looked like she was going to explode.

‘Er, yeah I can, watch me,’ said Ayesha and left.

‘And
you
, Fiona. I wanted to appoint you to Doris’s role, but I can’t possibly do that now, it seems you are too… irresponsible.’

If I didn’t have Doris’s job, there was no way I could save the extra money needed to live in the Millennium Apartments, and my thoughts were racing as I tried to look for solutions. It seemed that just as I had got my plan back on track, here was Juliet trying to take it away from me. I had worked here for so many years, barely having a whole weekend off. All these years of my life I had given to this boring job and I hadn’t been given one opportunity. I was frustrated with myself and wished I had the courage to leave like Ayesha – but most of all, I was furious with Juliet who was pulling my future away from underneath me. I attempted an apology.

‘Sorry.’ I muttered. ‘We were joking. We didn’t really mean…’

But Juliet waved her hand in front of me to stop me.

‘Please, Juliet.’ I said. I was humiliating myself now, like one of those X Factor contestants who you know has no chance but they just can’t let it go. But I couldn’t watch my plan fall to pieces, I had to try.

‘Forget it Fiona. It’s clear you are not management material.’

I felt hot tears well up in my eyes and roll down my face.

Juliet took another drink from her mug. And that’s when I saw it wasn’t her mug. It was my mug. I suddenly felt so much anger welling up inside me that it felt like pressure was building up in my head. This mug was the one thing I had to remind me that I didn’t have to be like Doris, and now Juliet didn’t even think I was good enough to be Doris. If she wasn’t going to promote me, at least she could have left me with my mug. I had visions of working here for the rest of my life and I couldn’t face another thirty years of only being allowed to get a cup of tea at ten-thirty. I didn’t want to have a drink at ten-thirty, I wanted to have a drink whenever I liked and I wanted to drink my tea out of my own mug instead of the prison cup I pretended was a camping mug. I felt all the pressure building up and then I temporarily lost my mind and went bat shit crazy. I stood up and pointed at Juliet.

‘Give that back. Now.’ I shouted.

She looked alarmed and pulled the mug closer towards her, wrapping her fingers round it protectively while I lost all sense of reason and lunged for the mug.

The jerky movement caused a splash of coffee to escape onto her white designer jacket.

‘Fiona. Sit down.’ She held the mug tighter and started edging her way back towards the door. Her eyes widened and she looked alarmed but still wouldn’t let go of the mug.

‘No, I won’t bloody sit down.’ I shouted. ‘You give me that back, you mug stealing bitch.’ I sprang forwards, attempting to wrestle the mug from her hand. When I say wrestle, what I actually mean is I pulled the mug sharply – but by now Juliet had loosened her grip. She started shouting for security, which was odd because we didn’t have security. As I tugged on the handle, Juliet’s hand released it and she fell back onto the floor. I now had the cup, but the remaining coffee had sloshed all over my dress. I stood for a moment, staring at the stain, watching the coffee drip down onto the carpet. Juliet was struggling to get back up onto her heels and was now yelling, ‘Fiona, you need to leave right NOW. You are suspended. Do you hear me? I am suspending you without pay with immediate effect!’

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see her arms flapping, but I didn’t look up, I continued to stare at the stain. I became aware I was holding my mug, and then what Juliet was saying started to register. I had been suspended from my job. My five year plan was over.

I saw Phil from IT outside the office, who had clearly sensed a disturbance in the force – or maybe he’d heard Juliet shouting for the non- existent security. The alleged Activia yoghurt perpetrators were peering in too. And pretty much everyone who worked in the office had been watching everything. Doris opened the door – took one look at me, saw Juliet getting up and straightening herself out – and put her arm round me, ushering me out of the office. ‘Come on, pet.’

Juliet was still shouting.

Doris turned to the assembled beneficial bacteria ladies and Jurassic Bleach
et al.
and snapped ‘Stop gawping you rubber neckers.’

They all scurried back to their desks. Doris pried my fingers from my mug and put it on the desk. As I reached for it, she put her hand on mine and lowered it back down. ‘Now don’t you worry about any of this disciplinary action at all. You go home, enjoy your holiday and leave me to sort all of this out.’

Going on holiday was the last thing I wanted to do. There was no way Juliet would let me go back to work after this. Everything was ruined.

I took a few deep breaths to steady myself and told myself that it would all be fine.

‘I’ll make a new plan,’ I said to Doris. Doris narrowed her eyes as she tried to comprehend what I was saying. ‘I can make a new plan, can’t I Doris?’ I was rambling and babbling because of the shock and Doris started steering me towards the door.

‘I’ll go home and plan and this can all be sorted out. I can still salvage it. It will be fine, won’t it Doris?’

‘Yes, dear,’ said Doris, but I could tell, even in my shocked state, she didn’t know what I was talking about. ‘You go home and come up with your plan.’

So I went home, but couldn’t think of a single thing to do so I formulated an interim plan which was to get absolutely, completely shitfaced.

*

I was fully in drunk crying mode by the time Steph and Sinead answered my distress calls and arrived at the flat.

‘Where the hell did you get this mangy cat from, Fiona?’ asked Steph. I was sprawled on the sofa, in a dressing gown and I was hugging the cat. I’d scooped him up from the step when I arrived home and hadn’t really put him down since.

Sinead was on the floor painting toe nails on my left foot; Steph was next to her, fake tanning my right leg in an attempt to get me ‘‘holiday ready’’.

‘But what am I going to do?’ I wailed. I slurped wine from my Cath Kidston mug and Sinead and Steph swapped places, I extended my left leg and they continued to work.

‘It could be the best thing that’s ever happened to you, Fiona,’ soothed Sinead. ‘Connor will understand, you can still get the apartment. You said you wanted a change anyway. Maybe it’s a blessing in disguise.’

‘Why do they have to come in disguises? What about my plan? I wanted to stick to my plan.’

‘Yes, but you said you hated it there.’ said Steph. ‘You can get another job,’

‘But how I am going to tell Connor? Everything is falling apart!’ Then I started to cry again. More drunk tears, and lots of them.

‘Don’t!’ Steph warned, as Sinead moved forward to hug me. ‘We can’t have you streaking. Quick. Hold a towel under her chin, in case of drips. Fiona, don’t freak out, hold it together until your legs are dry.’

‘Don’t cry, Fiona, it will all be okay,’ said Sinead. ‘It will all be fine in the morning.’

‘Keep holding that towel, Sinead. Now Fiona, I want you to listen to me very carefully, do you understand?’ She was talking to me like she was a paramedic and I’d had a very serious accident. ‘Can you hear me, Fiona?’

‘Yesh,’ I said.

‘We have to fake tan your arms now, do you understand?’

‘I do,’ I said.

‘Okay stand up, arms stretched out.’

I obeyed her. I stood up, a bit wobbly. Sinead was still holding the towel under my chin. Steph got to work as I held my arms out. I felt sleepy.

‘Stay with me Fiona,’ shouted Steph as she applied the tan to my arms.

‘Yes, only a few minutes longer,’ encouraged Sinead

‘Keep those eyes open.’

I could barely keep my eyes open and I couldn’t keep my arms up. It would be sensible for all if I went to sleep.

*

It was morning when I woke up, and I was disorientated. I was in the living room in my dressing grown, using a big bath towel as a duvet. I remembered Steph’s instructions to stay awake for the sake of my arms. I took a peak at them – bit streaky but not bad. Then I remembered the events of the day before and my stomach lurched with anxiety. I remembered I hadn’t eaten anything yesterday. In the fridge were all the meals that Connor had dived into a couple of days ago and I emptied them into the bin.

There was also a pizza box that Steph and Sinead had obviously shared, so I took the last slice and ate it.

My clothes horse had been put up with all my washing done, and Steph had hung all my new clothes out and put little colour coded Post-its on them, indicating what to wear with what, each day. She had also got my old suitcase from the cupboard and placed my new wedges in there.

And I had managed to refrain from drunk dialling so at least I hadn’t called Connor. But he hadn’t called me or texted me either. I thought maybe eating a pizza for my breakfast was my lowest point, but then I saw Sinead and Steph had been shopping for holiday snacks and I scarfed down a couple of sausage rolls and a handful of cocktail sausages.

I was startled that the cat was still around and threw him a cocktail sausage which he turned his nose up at. Then stalked over to the window, which I opened to let him out. I sat down on a kitchen school, wondering how it had all come to this and how I could have made such a balls-up of everything. I considered how I would tell Connor and wondered if it was better not to tell him until after I’d had the disciplinary hearing as I still had the tiniest glimmer of hope I wouldn’t be sacked – although I knew that outcome was unlikely. I opened the kitchen drawer where I kept my notebook and turned to the front page where I’d written my plan. I couldn’t see how I could salvage any of it.

I put it away and poked my head round the door of my bedroom where Steph and Sinead had slept and were now starting to stir. Suddenly, Steph sat bolt upright, whipped her de-puffing eye mask off and yelled at the top of her voice, ‘Let’s go glamping, bitches. First stop – off licence!’ This frightened the life out of Sinead, who woke up and started screaming.

This at least made me laugh and gave me a little hope that the weekend might be fun after all.

Chapter Seven

‘What time did Kirk say he’d be here?’ asked Steph, laden down with carrier bags full of Crabbie’s alcoholic ginger beer from her trip to the off licence.

‘Perhaps he’s got stuck in traffic,’ suggested Sinead, joining me to peek out of the blinds.

My doorbell rang. It was Kirk and he was in floods of tears, clutching Brian Harvey so hard that I thought he might asphyxiate him. I took Brian Harvey from him.

‘He’s left me,’ he said. ‘Gav has finally left me!’

Sinead hugged Kirk. We had all seen it coming but it still was obviously a shock for Kirk. I patted him on the arm and while I was sad for him, it was probably the best thing that could have happened.

‘Well, aren’t we all a fine lot,’ said Sinead, sighing as she pulled away from Kirk. Kirk stopped crying for a minute.

‘What with Kirk and Gav and Fiona’s work woes, this break is exactly what we need’ she announced.

‘Oh no, what’s happened to you?’ Kirk said to me. I told him all about work and how I might not have a job to go back to and Kirk started snivelling again and that made me feel all teary too.

Steph stood beside us all. ‘Come on you lot, the sooner we get to this bloody festival, the sooner we can all get pissed and party. And there will be no work woes and no crying and we will all have the best time ever.’

Sinead nodded meekly.

‘So we are all agreed?’ Steph said. Me and Kirk nodded.

‘Okay, then,’ said Steph. ‘Let’s go.’

*