The Under Ground (Strong Women Book 4)

by Sarah Till

  Even so, I knew I was lucky. I swung my handbag as my heels tapped on the city pavements. Why should today be different? I had managed to live on the superficial surface of life for a long time now, and that’s how I fully intended to continue. The song about sunshine lollipops and rainbows, and everything that's wonderful played in my mind. And, as if by magic, the line about the lucky penny sung out just as I saw a shiny coin sitting in a crack in the concrete slabs. I bent down to pick it up.

  “See a penny, pick it up, all the day you'll have good luck.” I raised my head to find who the deep brown voice belonged to. Johnny Moran from accounts is standing before me, his auburn locks flopping over his forehead. “Pass the penny to a friend, your good luck will never end!”

  I panicked slightly, trying to work out if Johnny was a friend. I didn't really know him or even like him that much, but I supposed he looked kind. I stretched my arm out and reluctantly offered the penny to him.

  “Hey, Clem, don't look so worried. It's only a penny.”

  I brushed back my hair and smoothed my slightly tense forehead.

  “Yes, yes. I know, silly. I was just thinking about the meeting today. I was in a world of my own.”

  This was partly true. I was in a world of my own but I definitely hadn't been thinking about the meeting. I'd been daydreaming about last night with Lenny. Actually, I'd been basking in the memories of an evening of sex, the tiny flashbacks every so often raising a tingle through my body as I floated to work. Now, walking down the street with Johnny, the lingering thoughts of love were temporarily fading. I could hear him speaking as I desperately tried to reconnect with the love waves.

  “So, I would think that the whole project would take no more than fifteen thousand Euros to set up. Clem? Clementine?”

  We stopped in front of Arabesque Agency.

  “Sorry, Johnny. I didn't get much sleep last night. I'm slightly vague this morning.”

  “Oh. I see. Anyone special?”

  A vision of Lenny's face close to mine made my face redden.

  “Yes. Actually, he is quite special. We've been together about six months now and he ticks all the boxes. All of them. He has a nightclub just off the Chester Road and he's just, well, perfect.”

  Johnny's shoulders drooped. His brown eyes looked sad and I looked more closely at him now. I knew my grey suit looked sharp against Johnny's worn mac and my elation somehow accentuated his deflation. I felt a twinge of guilt as I realised I'd just gloated over someone who clearly liked me.

  “Great. I'm happy for you. Delighted.”

  Johnny turned and walked away. I watched as he tossed the penny to a Big Issue seller, who caught it mid-flight. For a moment, I wondered if I should ask him for it, to return my luck. I hung back a little, caught in my deliberations, and watched as Johnny caught the lift. The meeting loomed in the near distance and I tried to forget about my romp with Lenny and focus on the business of today. I needed to land the account with Watson's; I needed to use everything I had to influence the board's decisions. I knew I'd done the groundwork but checked my appearance for the twentieth time-like but pretty. Feminine but focused. I knew how to play them and had purposely applied a little more red lipstick than usual and left my hair to tumble over my shoulders. Their byline was 'women know what women want' and I just hoped that I could deliver.

  The refrain from sunshine lollipops and rainbows returned on low volume as I touched my shiny new smartphone in my pocket and got into the lift. The phone suddenly vibrated and made me shudder a little. Jenni's name appeared on the screen and I felt a slight pang of joy. It was early and she didn't usually ring me until after work. I put aside thoughts of the meeting and took the call.

  “Hi. You OK?”

  Jenni was my Friday friend. We went dancing together and drank far too much wine one night a week.

  “Yes. Good good good. How's things? How did last night go?”

  Of course. She was hungry for information about Lenny. I'd told her that I was trying to move things to the next level. She had known that last night was prime time for asking him to declare me as his girlfriend.

  “It went really well. Final box almost ticked, Jen. I predict he'll be making an announcement by the weekend.”

  “Oh, that's great, girl. If it's what you really want. I mean, you did mention that he's a bit annoying...”

  “No. No. He's just perfect. The excessive tidiness is probably just nervousness. I'm sure when we live together he'll stop. And the interrupting and talking over me, I suppose he just feels a little out of his depth, we both know he's never had a relationship for more than four months before.”

  The line was silent for an uncomfortable second and the lift stopped.

  “Hmm. So he's thirty-eight, or so he says, and he's never had a serious relationship? Have you seen any proof of his age? Be careful, Clem. I just don't want you to get hurt, baby.”

  “Thank you, Jenni. Thank you.” My heart was fit to burst as Jenni's words hit home. I knew she cared and it touched me deeply. “I just wish you could find someone, Jenni. Someone to make you happy.”

  “Nah, girl. I’m fine as I am. I've got my reasons.”

  “You could still look, though. Wouldn't it be lovely if we could go on a double date? Why don't you make a list? Like mine?”

  Jenni burst into loud laughter.

  “Ah, yes, your list. That gets me every time. Look, I've got to go. See you later, Clem. Have a good day.”

  Jenni's name disappeared from the screen as I approached my desk. I glanced into Johnny's office and caught him staring at me. I waved gently and he half smiled. Jenni's critique of Lenny had caught me off guard in the middle of my happiness and now I felt a little uncomfortable. It was true that Lenny had some bad habits. He constantly complained about the dust in my house and had commented that I should hire a cleaner. He actually pressed his socks together and laid them out on the floor before he went to bed. Worst of all, after a long lovemaking session, he would immediately spring up, completely naked and fold all his clothes carefully. No cuddling, just folding. It was a little wearing, just like the fact that he insisted that we were friends and not partners or boyfriend and girlfriend or even dating, just friends. Jenni had joked about being 'just good friends' but I just knew that one day, in the scheme of things, Lenny and I would be together.

  After all, there were the rules of dating to consider. One had to be introduced, and then go on a first date. Then wait around three days for a call, then go on another date, then arrange for a regular weeknight date. Then dinner at the weekend, then stay-overs, then being declared. With Lenny, all these stages except the declaration had been easy. The weekend dinners had been tricky but that was because he ran a nightclub. So, on Fridays, I would go out with Jenni and on Saturday I would stay in and wait for him to arrive at my house at around two thirty. In the morning. A tendril of doubt drilled into my belief but I shrugged it off as a byproduct of Jenni's alarm. In any case, my manager was approaching. I crossed my legs and swung them round as he smiled broadly.

  “Clementine. Looking good. Look, the meeting's been delayed until next Thursday. One of the buyers couldn't make it. Sorry.”

  I mirrored his smile but inside I was livid. He walked away and Johnny caught my eye. I saw his hand go to his desk phone and a moment later mine rang. I grabbed at the receiver quickly. There was a short silence, then I said the first thing that came into my head.

  “That penny wasn't so lucky after all. The meetings off.”

  “What the hell are you talking about Clementine? You know, you really should answer the phone properly. Very unprofessional.”

  Lenny's voice boomed on the line and I half melted, the other half preparing for more complaining.

  “I'm sorry, babe, I thought it was Johnny.”

  “Who the hell's Johnny?” My heart sank as I remembered Lenny's insecurity. “I didn't know you were seeing someone else. Who's Johnny?”

  “No, Lenny, it's not like that.” I hear
d my voice go into whine mode as I tried to win him round. “He's a work colleague. I can see his office from my desk and I saw him pick up the...”

  “Anyway. About last night. You know how you mentioned about us becoming an item, you know, exclusive? I've been thinking about it a lot over the past few weeks.”

  “Really?” My voice sounded casual but inside I was already popping the champagne cork and choosing a wedding dress. Lenny's dark demeanour and my blonde paleness would match any bride and groom wedding cake model. I pictured us telling my Mum and Dad, Dad's face at last lighting up with pride and Mum hugging us both.

  “Yes. And I thought it was a good idea. In fact a great idea.”

  “Really?”

  I was almost speechless with excitement. I could feel my eyes beginning to brim with tears of joy. I stood up quickly and stepped from one foot to another and waved my free hand to fan myself.

  “Yes. But then I remembered that you are not very interested in gardening.”

  The needle scratched across sunshine lollipops and rainbows and I stopped waving.

  “Gardening?” Lenny had never mentioned gardening.

  “Yes. Your garden is atrocious. It's obvious that you take about the same pride in my dad lovingly tended twice a week. A tidy lawn with some pretty flowers and a patio area. “I just don't know if I could be with someone who takes so little care of their environment. It really is a reflection of the person within.”

  I was still thinking about what was wrong with my garden as the truth sank in.

  “So. what are you saying, Lenny?”

  “Well, it's simple. Unless you can guarantee that you will improve your, well, general cleanliness, and tidiness and keep it up, it's over. I just can't be with someone so...so...slovenly.”

  It was almost as if he was interviewing me for a job. The job of being his girlfriend. I took a CD from its case and looked closely at my reflection as the silence on the line continued. Weren’t my eyebrows plucked to within an inch of their life and my skin flawless? Wasn’t my hair long, wavy perfection? How could he find fault so easily? I'd truly made the effort to reach his high standards but it seemed it was never enough. In the next split second my mind raced over my home where I lived alone. There was no one else there to make it untidy. I usually sat in one chair, slept in one of the three bedrooms, used just two pans for my careful diet of pasta, sauce and salad. I cleaned up all the time. He was clearly barking fucking mad.

  “So, you're finishing with me?”

  “Unless you change, yes.”

  “I'm fine as I am.” My voice was even and quiet.

  “But you're not, Clementine. You're not as developed as you should be. Take personal hygiene for instance.” In a flash, it all became clearer. Every time he had been at my home, sex had started in the shower. He had always hauled me in and washed me all over. Every time. I began to feel a little bit sorry for him. I'd read about people like him with obsessive-compulsive disorder and it just made me want to look after him. Try harder. “I doubt that you wash as much as you should, Clementine. And your kitchen is a disgrace.”

  “OK. OK. What exactly do you want me to do?”

  “Well you could get a cleaner for a start. I know you work hard, but you really have to make the effort. Maybe you could cut your hours at work. If we were to be together, I would need you to do things for me. obviously I would need to keep some clothes at your house and I have a special washing procedure.”

  It was too much for even my allowing soul.

  “Mm-mm. I don't think I would be able to cut my work hours. I have a mortgage and bills. And a life.”

  “Of course, I would take care of those. And perhaps you could drop that girl you hang around with. I'm not really keen on her look, you know. The dreadlocks. And the jeans.”

  “They're not dreadlocks, they're plaits.”

  “Isn't she West Indian?”

  “Yes. Of course, her parents are West Indian but she was born in Luton. And she's very beautiful. Are you judging my friend, Lenny? What exactly are you saying?”

  “Of course I'm not judging her. It's just that someone upwardly mobile like you shouldn't be seen with someone like her. I don't know how you can say she is beautiful.” There was a short silence and I knew he was inspecting his fingernails. “Still, they say beauty is in the eye of the beholder.”

  I finally flipped. Well, flipped Clementine-style, which was more of a gentle roll.

  “That's enough, Lenny. I'll be seen with whom I want to. Jenni's a lovely person. I won't have you being unkind to her. Look, let's meet up tonight to discuss.” I was still veering between changing him and helping him.

  “I don't think so. No. Obviously you don't value our friendship enough to change for me. I hoped you would see sense, but it seems you won't. I'll send my people over for my things. I'll text you when they're coming.”

  The line went dead and I stood holding the receiver.

  “Bye then.”

  It was turning into a horrendous day. The meeting was cancelled, and my boyfriend had dumped me leaving me feeling inevitably shocked and numb. I looked around the office and saw everyone was either chatting or tapping their pens idly on their desks. Johnny was talking on the phone. I picked up my bag and walked past my manager's office, my wave signalling my departure. There were a multitude of clients I could feign meeting with as I headed for the lift.

  As I left the building, I glanced at the Big Issue seller. He still held the penny between his finger and thumb and looked me in the eye and smiled as some rich executive pressed a fifty-pound note into his other hand. Somehow, it reminded me of my missing sister and the fragile balance between remembering and forgetting her. It was like a glimpse of chance, heads or tails, the kind of luck that depends on being in the right place at the right time. That’s when I felt a shift in my life.

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  Acknowledgements

  I would like to thank everyone who has helped me with researching this book. Writing a book is difficult because it requires you to put in your heart and soul and then a little bit extra. My mission was and is to write the book I want to even if it is quirky and a little bit strange! Thank you to everyone who supports this and who has read my work and commented on it.

  Thank you to my publishers who have worked hard to bring this book to life.

  Thank you to the public officials who let me sit in their offices and ask them awkward questions.

  Thank you to my fellow writers who offer scaffolding and support.

  Most of all, thank you to my family. They have endured my furious typing and endless chatter about my stories and characters and I love you all.

  Biography

  Sarah Till writes books about the human condition and what can go wrong. She is interested in what makes people tick and nature. The combination of the two provide her with a rich landscape. She lives with her husband and her pets and walks the fields and moorlands looking for material.

  Before her writing life she worked in an office. She likes painting, knitting and researching family history.

  Sarah has written five novels to date and has had short stories accepted for publication in anthologies.

  Contact: books@sarahtillbooks.com

  Sarah Till Novels

  The Little Death

  The Waiting List

  The Tintagel Secret

  The Under Ground

  The Third Act