Some Like it Hot

by Amanda Brobyn

  Maggie nodded as she listened to Helena. She liked Helena and thought she was a real find, a hardworking girl who had such a way with the elderly folk that it touched her to watch.

  “What’s your degree in again, Helena?”

  “Psychology.”

  “Useful!” Maggie laughed. “Pity it’s not Business Studies or Economics.”

  “I know but isn’t hindsight a wonderful thing?” Helena chortled.

  “How old are you, if you don’t mind me asking?” Maggie enquired.

  “I’m thirty-one.”

  She and Maggie had a great relationship and Helena felt she could talk to her about anything.

  “Well, what about Human Resources?” Helena said. “Surely Psychology would be useful there? Don’t they do all that psychometric testing and those other behavioural-type interview things?” Helena was determined to make Maggie see how serious she was. “Maybe I could be trained up to work at head office doing job interviews and stuff?”

  Maggie saw the sparkle in Helena’s eye. She hadn’t asked for anything over the years – in fact, Maggie was surprised at how little ambition she’d had for a young girl, but since she had returned from her annual leave Helena had been an entirely different person, and full of life. She looked better too. Her hair was styled and she took the time to apply make-up which she didn’t usually bother with. Not that she needed it but it enhanced her delicate features and complemented her overall appearance.

  “I could see you doing that actually, although I’m not sure what vacancies are coming up – particularly with the cuts in the training and development budget. There’s an embargo on recruitment at the moment which isn’t going to help your case . . . leave it with me though. Let me make a few calls to see what’s coming up. You know I’d hate to lose you from the banking hall, don’t you? The customers love you, particularly the older ones – you have such a way with them.”

  Helena said nothing. She didn’t want the banking hall any more. She wanted out of there and as far removed from that place as was possible.

  “I feel like I’ve outgrown it to be honest, Maggie.” Helena flushed. “I’ve been doing the same job day in, day out for years now and I feel the need to move on. There have been some, erm, changes to my personal life and I would love to start doing things differently . . . now that I’m over thirty . . . and single.”

  “You don’t look a day over twenty-one to me,” Maggie squeezed Helena’s hand. “I’m on the case, Helena. I promise I’ll be in touch.”

  Helena stood back, watching Maggie walk away with brisk steps until she disappeared from sight and then her shoulders sank down with relief as the tension dissipated and her stomach churned with butterflies at the prospect of breaking free and making a new start.

  She had put closure on Nathan – as much as he would let her with his endless texts – and now she needed to put closure on her job. Helena knew if she stayed there she would be asking for trouble. She was lucky there had been none already, more than lucky.

  As Roni put the finishing touches to the room, she stood back taking it in, gulping at how between them they had transformed the traditional-style chalet hut into a contemporary open-plan party area.

  The partition doors to the well-stocked bar were pulled back to allow the guests direct access to its counter and Roni had placed five chrome bar stools up against its black granite. The bar was to be manned all evening so that the ladies could take their pick of alcoholic delights. Everything was on the menu tonight at The Tudors and Roni was startled at how much she was looking forward to seeing the pleasure on their faces as she entertained them – with a little help.

  A huge disco ball hung above the bar, spinning around as a natural breeze brushed past it, this way and that way. Its mirrored images dotted the walls and floor with a flicker of multi-coloured lights and Roni couldn’t wait for the darkness to fall so that they could experience its full-on effect.

  All around the walls, metre upon metre of luminous blue fairy lights were hung decoratively and tacked into place. Peter had done it last night – no questions asked – he was delighted at the changes he had noticed in his wife and right now he couldn’t do enough for her or get enough of her.

  Roni’s catering team had re-invented the wicker furniture by draping the table with a black linen cloth, a perfect backdrop to the shocking pink napkins which she had requested they bring with them to match the fuschia-coloured wineglasses. Roni loved colour and while she also loved style, albeit her taste was a little tacky, tonight was about pleasure and enjoyment and fun, not about a perfect designer bash. She chose the black and the shocking pink to have fun with her girlfriends and fun they would have.

  She had re-visited Karl to have her hair blown for the occasion – twice in a short space of time in fact – and Roni giggled as she recalled Karl telling her that she herself was ‘now cutting edge’.” Veronica Smyth had only ever been cutting, a bit like someone else she knew. She laughed silently at the prospect of what she was becoming. While it was an amazing feeling to look in the mirror and be greeted by the face of a stranger, becoming less strange by the minute, she knew that she still needed to work on what was inside of her, and that could take a while. She was what she was and her fractious characteristics were congenital.

  “Are you nearly ready, Soph?” Helena waited patiently by the front door.

  “Yep, just getting dressed,” Sophie shouted from behind the paper-thin bathroom door. “I can’t believe Roni is opening up the pool for us, can you?” She didn’t wait for an answer. “What’s with that woman? Karl said she was in the salon again getting a blow-dry!”

  “Maybe she’s beginning to realise she’s been in her own little world for too long, Sophie,” Helena offered. “Been locked away like Rapunzel in the tower of her castle waiting for someone to rescue her . . . anyway, don’t knock it, Soph, she’s lining your pockets with every visit.”

  “Yeah, or maybe she’s getting her end away with someone else and that’s why she’s so interested in how she looks all of a sudden?”

  Sophie emerged from the closet-sized bathroom into the magnolia-painted hallway. It was such a confined space and so deprived of natural light that she could only paint it either that or white and she was too messy for white walls – at least her fake tan was anyway.

  “You always think the worst of everybody, Sophie.”

  “No,” she corrected. “I always think the worst of Veronica Smyth.”

  Sophie grabbed her Burberry canvas tote-bag from the floor and shoved her bathing suit into it along with a miniature washbag. “Anyway, what’s with Rapunzel? She’s barely got any hair! I know, she could thrown down her attitude . . . that would be long enough to extend from her roof space to the ground, wouldn’t it?”

  Helena tutted at her friend’s silliness.

  “I hope she’s got showers we can use, Hel – my hair goes green if I don’t wash the chlorine out of it.”

  “Then you’ll look like Grotbags as well as acting like her!”

  Helena opened the door and shoved her friend out into the plush hallway with its natural brickwork complementing the contemporary striped communal carpet.

  “Cheeky!” Sophie pulled the door firmly shut behind her. “Wait! Have you got your swimsuit? I’m not getting in on my own, no way José.”

  Helena beamed and held up a small bag by its string handles. “I got a new one,” she boasted.

  “And a new body to go with it by the looks of things, Hel. Have you put weight on? You’re getting a bit fat.”

  Helena swung her bag against Sophie’s upper arm with force.

  “You know, I could swing for you sometimes, Sophie Kane!” she snapped angrily. Okay, so she was now eating, of course she was going to put a little weight on but she was far from fat.

  “You just did,” Sophie replied rubbing her arm.

  Roni stood before the door clutching at its handle. She’d waited until all the women arrived before allowing them into the room
which had so transformed itself. After each one of her friends rapped on the ostentatious doorknocker, clutching at the brass jaw of the lion’s head, she had ushered them into the kitchen as she usually did and now that she had them all together she was ready for them to make their grand entrance.

  Roni opened the glass-panelled single door, pushing it right back to allow the women to enter. She stood back to let them past, watching their reactions.

  “Wow!” Jude gasped. She had seen the pool chalet before but not looking like this.

  “Do you like it?” Roni could barely contain her excitement.

  “Oh my God, Roni! It’s incredible. How could you have kept this little jewel from us for so long, you stingy cow?” Sophie winked at Roni. She didn’t want her playful words to be taken out of context and nor did she want to be banned from swimming leisurely lengths, resting to sip on a Long Island Iced Tea to counteract the exertion.

  “It wasn’t always like this,” Roni answered a little more shyly. She was aware that all four faces were staring at her and actually listening to what she had to say. “I’d never really used this room before apart from when the kids lived at home . . . until I started my swimming lessons, but I’ve come to absolutely love being in here.”

  She beamed with pride and her ample chest puffed out of her jersey cerise-pink top which she had kept since the eighties. This one didn’t escape during her ruthless clearout, and it matched the colours of the night.

  Helena squeezed past Roni first, rushing forward with excitement. She bent down on the immaculate tiles, dipping her hand into the water, rolling her eyes, immersed in its perfect temperature.

  “The water is so hot, Roni, it’s like a bath. Can I get in now?”

  “It’s not your birthday yet, is it, Hel?” Sophie teased her, which she ignored.

  “Don’t get in yet, Helena,” said Roni. “We’ll be eating soon.”

  “I don’t think she really meant it, Veronica,” Sophie pointed out.

  “I’ve never felt water so hot,” Helena went on. “It must cost you a fortune to run?”

  “I do like it quite hot though.”

  “I’ll bet you do!” Kath shrieked. “Some like it hot, eh, Roni?”

  Kath was back on form, although every now and then she would go off into her own little train of thought and her eyes would be filled with a heavy sadness. Jude knew how close she was to her boys and she knew how much she would be hurting. It hurt her too knowing this but there was little she could do bar be there for her friend night and day.

  “Darren says it’s far too hot for swimming but –”

  “Does he now!” Sophie was keen to hear more. “What else does Darren say about being hot, Mrs Smyth? You’re looking pretty hot yourself these days if I may say so!”

  Roni stood open-mouthed. Her cheeks shot to an impressive scarlet colour which clashed with her cerise top.

  “Will you all stop interrupting me!” she snapped, turning quickly, heading towards the bar where she picked up a cocktail menu and sank her head into it. For some reason, Roni couldn’t hear the name Darren without losing control. And she hated that.

  “I think we’ve touched a raw nerve,” Sophie whispered to Helena.

  “What’s he like then, this Darren? We haven’t heard too much about him,” Kath asked innocently.

  “Well, if you’d like to all turn up at 10a.m. tomorrow I’m having another swimming lesson. You’re more than welcome to come along as spectators.” Roni spoke with a dry nonchalance as she handed out the drinks menus.

  “Really?” Helena was amazed.

  “No!” Roni sneered. “It’s called sarcasm! Now will you please butt out of my personal life and choose a drink!” She thrust the cocktail menu at Kath who grabbed it excitedly.

  Sophie belted out hoydenish laughter. “That’s more like the Roni we know! Will the real Veronica Smyth please stand up, please stand up!“ she sang, waving her hands around like a street rapper, her black leather skirt forced to ride up as she stood with her legs slightly apart and knees bent.

  Even Roni struggled to suppress a smile. She was trying, but it was so hard to shake off the way she had been her entire adult life. She would try even harder, she decided. Outbursts like that were unacceptable.

  “Soph?”

  “What?”

  “I can see your knickers from down here,” Helena told her matter-of-factly.

  “At least she’s wearing some for a change!” Kath joined in.

  Sophie turned to the women holding up a V sign with two fingers as a rude gesture to her friends.

  “Sophie Kane. As charming as ever,” said Jude.

  As the darkness crept in, Roni flicked on the cosmetic lights which created an instant buzz of excitement. The blue fairy sort were draped like tinsel on a Christmas tree, dipped for decorative effect. The dark granite of the bar’s surface was covered in table confetti, each tiny piece was shaped into a fun item. There were champagne bottles, butterlies and even miniature palm trees in shockingly bright, luminous colours.

  On the main dinner table the black linen cloth was screaming with shocking-pink crystal sprinkles which had already caused one fuschia-cloured wineglass to break as the glass was set down on top of it, before wobbling to its death.

  Jude sat with her pink napkin on her knee. Curry and white jeans didn’t go well together and they were her favourite Calvin Kleins so she wanted to look after them. She set her knife and fork down, resting them carefully on the edge of her plate.

  “Roni, this is really incredible, thank you so much. You have absolutely transformed this place. Maybe Sophie should have given you the contract and not me.”

  Roni looked away, unsure of how to react. She wasn’t used to hearing words of admiration. Not from her friends anyway.

  “Yeah, Roni, thanks a million for taking my turn.” Helena was touched. “I really appreciate it.”

  For once, Roni was calm and content. Her back wasn’t up and she wasn’t waiting to be shot down by someone’s snide remarks – deserved as most of them were.

  “I’m not sure dinner in the communal hall of our shitty apartment block would have gone down too well with you guys.” Helena shuddered. “Perhaps I should have asked Nathan if I could borrow the apartment for one night, given I’m the one who has paid the rent until the end of the month. Why didn’t I bang my head two days earlier? Then I would have escaped payment!”

  Roni had made huge efforts and they hadn’t gone unnoticed but she still needed a little work on how to accept compliments. She nodded her head at Helena once more and the corners of her mouth turned up in a half smile. She knew she needed counselling to correct her people skills, but she had made such a turnaround in no time that patience was a virtue she needed to hold on to. She had been wearing an uptight, conservative facade for so long now that surely she could wait a while longer to metamorphose fully into someone different?

  “Who did the caterering, Roni?” Jude enquired. “I could do with adding another firm to my list. The guys I use now are brilliant for finger-food but gourmet hot food like this is rather hard to come by.”

  “Stop saying hot. I’m getting horny.” Sophie pushed her chair back from the table. She had eaten all she could. Her leather skirt covered little more than her underwear and her toned thighs were left for all to view.

  “Anyone fancy a little girl-on-girl action since there are no blokes about?”

  “Hhhmm.”

  The women turned around in the direction of the sound.

  Rafi simply waved to them from the confinements of the bar and Sophie smiled back at him, dazzling and seductive. He was hot alright. Where the hell had that little jewel been hiding?

  “Everybody has to be in the water before the question can be read,” Roni ordered giddily. She had drunk one too many cocktails. But wasn’t that what she was paying Rafi to do? Tend bar? It was his forte and he was damn good at it. He made Sophie’s Long Island Iced Tea taste like it was from a packet, a blend of powd
er mixed with tap water.

  “You’d better stay in the shallow end, Roni – you’re pissed and you’ll drown otherwise,” Kath instructed pointedly, never one to mince her words. “In fact, you shouldn’t really be in here. None of us should.”

  “Get off your soapbox, you fitness freak!” Helena scooped up water with both hands and hurled it at Kath. It landed on her head in one big splat and the noise echoed around the room followed by the shriek of drunken female laughter.

  “Do you mind, it took me hours to achieve that frizzed look!”

  One by one the women sank down into the tropical waters which lapped around them.

  Sophie in her spotty La Blanca swimsuit, backless and with cutaway sides. Jude played it safe in a plain black high-legged costume showing off her eternal legs, and Kath was dressed in keeping with her feline streak in a fashionable leopard-print tankini. Every one of the women looked stylish and beautiful but it was Helena who stole the show. As she took the steps carefully, the women stared at her body beautiful. The thick black lycra pulled in Helena’s barely there waist, nipping it into an hourglass shape, and thin as she was her full-sized C-cups were pushed together into an impressive cleavage, pinned with a massive diamante brooch. The spaghetti-thin straps draped over her shoulders and her stomach was a flat as any catwalk model’s. She looked sensational.

  “Oh my Gooodd! I sooo need to borrow that, Hel, please?” Sophie begged. “Pleeese!”

  Helena raised an eyebrow at her best friend.

  “I’m not sure . . . I’d be worried about you stretching it on me, Sophie.”

  “Ha ha, very funny. Okay, that’s one-all now!”

  Roni continued to have her back turned, still clad in her personalised robe as she commanded the staff who were scurrying around clearing away the remains of the spicy hot jalfrezi with military confidence.

  The heat from the jalfrezi, which had been served with a mild dhansak, had burned Helena’s mouth she had shovelled it in so fast. That was why, she explained, she had been drinking so quickly.