Mermaid Hair and I Don’t Care: A romantic comedy about shoes, surf and second chances

by CJ Morrow

  She pulled into the car park with nearly ten minutes to spare. Just enough time to get to her desk, fire up her computer, take a few deep breaths and compose herself. She smiled as she picked up her bag and marched with purpose and confidence across the car park towards the building entrance. The sun was shining, the birds were singing, the air was fresh but warm; it was a good day. She felt strong and empowered.

  Her left foot went down, jarring her right knee and her back in the process. She knew without even looking what had happened – it wasn’t even the first time. Where the hell did these drains come from? Did they wait for her approach? Did they follow her around? How could she be so damn, bloody, bloody stupid? Again.

  She pulled her foot up, but the shoe didn’t give way. Balancing on one foot she bent over and yanked it but it did not budge. There wasn’t time for this. No time at all. Why had she worn the damn shoes? She knew they came with bad luck. Why didn’t she learn?

  She took the other shoe off and because the car park surface was painfully gritty, she tip-toed back to her car as fast as she could, wincing and yelping out loud as she did so. She threw the remaining shoe into the car boot and foraged in her gym bag for her trainers. She slipped them onto her feet. Dirty white, with pink and green stripes, elegant they were not but they were, at least, comfortable.

  ‘You’re cutting it fine, Lillian. Scare-a-von has just been looking for you.’ Damon nodded at Veronica’s retreating form.

  ‘I know. And don’t call me that.’ Lily dumped her bag and grabbed a notepad and pen from her desk.

  ‘You can borrow my spare shoes,’ Urve said, her voice almost a whisper as Lily clomped past her. Using her foot Urve slid a pair of neat, low heeled black courts out from under her desk. Urve was the epitome of discreet. And sweet.

  ‘Thank you,’ Lily whispered back. Kicking off the trainers and pushing her left foot into a shoe. ‘Oh, maybe not,’ she said as the shoe refused her less than tiny hoof. ‘Thanks anyway.’ Lily stuffed her feet back into the trainers and all but sprinted to her meeting.

  Veronica stood at her desk wearing a steel smile and a deep frown. She glanced down at Lily’s feet and shuddered. ‘So that was you in the car park.’ She turned her back to lead the way into the director’s office.

  ‘You saw me?’

  ‘Yes, we were at the window at what could be deemed an opportune moment.’ Was that a snigger?

  ‘Who’s we?’ But she already knew the answer.

  ‘Mr Montgomery-Jones and I.’ Veronica allowed a smile to fully fill her face. ‘I’m sure he’ll understand why you’re wearing those.’ She nodded at the trainers then shook her head.

  To hell with Veronica; to hell with Cyril Montgomery-Jones. Lily didn’t care if the pompous old toad understood why she was wearing trainers or not. What was he – a fashion expert? In her experience few financial directors were the epitome of sartorial elegance. Anyway, this was Bensons Wholesale Electricals, not a catwalk in London Fashion week.

  Just before Lily entered the office she smoothed down her dress, took a deep breath, put her shoulders back and lifted her head. She was confident, good at her job and would not be cowed by either Scare-a von or stuffy Cyril.

  Lily glanced around the office – the office that she once imagined would be her own. The desk was across the middle of the room, creating a barrier between the director and any visitor. If the job had been Lily’s she would have immediately moved that desk, brought in a round table and made the whole room friendlier. The walls were a sombre dark grey, the carpet dull; it’s only saving grace was that the office faced east so was sunny in the mornings – if it wasn’t raining. There were rumours that the last finance director had had a mini-breakdown in this room. Not that anyone had witnessed it. Veronica was commendably tight lipped and admonished anyone who asked. Lily would have repainted the room, in something bright and cheery. She wondered, as she looked at him, if Cyril had any such plans.

  He was still standing and looking out of the window from which he’d had a good view of Lily and the shoe incident. His dark form was silhouetted in the morning sunshine. Damon was right; he definitely wasn’t a fat toad. She could tell, even from the back, that the suit was expensive and it hung well on an athletic frame – he was probably one of those fanatics who spent two hours in the gym before starting work at seven am. Even Will, who loved his gym, didn’t do that. His dark hair was closely cropped and his shoulders were just the right side of wide.

  From the back there was something inherently attractive about him. Lily pushed the feeling down. He was her rival, her bitter rival; the man who had stolen her job. How dare he be even vaguely appealing, even from the back? She told herself that he would probably have a face like a frog when he turned around. And he was probably much older from the front. Just because he was gym obsessed didn’t mean his face wouldn’t be a wrinkly old mess. She’d met his sort on her rare visits to the gym, reclaiming their youth during a sad midlife crisis. She allowed a wicked smile to flick across her face before she regained control and forced a deadpan face. Remember, she told herself, you’re a professional.

  He didn’t move until Veronica gave a little, fake cough. He turned and smiled a neat, professional smile.

  And Lily’s heart stopped.

  What? What? Her heart started to beat again in time to the fast ticking thoughts that were running through her brain like a runaway train. She could feel her pulse throbbing in her neck. Could he see it? Could Veronica? It beat so hard and fast she could hear the blood rushing through her ears. Could they hear it?

  She gulped air. Had she actually stopped breathing?

  What was going on?

  Oh, he was attractive.

  Far too attractive. The suit looked even better on his body now he was facing her; the cloth clung in all the right places. He wore a blue shirt and no tie, exposing an Adam’s apple that bobbed as he slowly swallowed.

  He was definitely not wrinkly. He was young.

  Her bitter rival was drop dead gorgeous.

  And frighteningly familiar.

  Thirteen

  This man, this Cyril Montgomery-Jones was Jackson’s twin – same eyes, same build, same face, even the faint remnants of a tan. Could it be possible? The hair and clothes were very different, but… Lily racked her brain trying to remember if Jackson had mentioned a twin or even a brother. She struggled to remember Jackson’s surname, wondered if she had ever known it. Montgomery-Jones was distinctive; she would certainly have remembered that.

  ‘Sit down, Lily,’ Veronica stage whispered.

  ‘Um?’ Lily shook herself to find Cyril and Veronica already seated, their expectant eyes focused on her. What had happened? When had they sat down?

  ‘Veronica, perhaps you could get,’ Cyril glanced down at his paperwork, ‘Lillian, a glass of water.’

  ‘Of course.’ Veronica stood up with pursed lips and trotted across the office to pour Lily a drink. She set it down without a word.

  ‘Thank you.’

  ‘So Lillian,’ Cyril began.

  ‘I prefer Lily.’

  ‘Yes,’ he said and Lily watched him blink several times. She saw him swallow. Did that mean anything? Had he heard of her? From his twin? If such a person existed? Or was she imagining it? ‘Veronica is going to sit in on this one and take a few notes. Is that all right with you?’

  ‘Sure.’ Lily forced a brief smile that felt like a grimace and wondered what the tone of the meeting was going to be. Why did Veronica need to be there to take notes? Was this a dismissal meeting? It had all the hallmarks.

  Lily felt flustered, confused.

  What was going on?

  Who was this man sitting in front of her?

  ‘So, as you’re aware I had a meeting with the whole team to discuss the future.’ He looked up, expectant.

  ‘Yes,’ Lily said. ‘When I was on holiday.’ She wondered if he would ask her where she’d been. He didn’t.

  ‘I’m also very aware,’ he glanced
away, then looked back. ‘That you applied for this position.’

  ‘That’s right.’ Lily stared into his eyes, eyes so very like Jackson’s. Perhaps not quite so blue. She continued to stare; she would not be cowed. He looked down.

  ‘I hope that isn’t going to cause any problems between us.’ He smiled and his face lit up for just a second. He looked so like Jackson, so like him that it made her heart skip again.

  ‘So do I,’ she muttered into her chest.

  He coughed softly before continuing. ‘I’m looking at the work we do, at how the team is structured. I think there are some procedures that we need to modernise, streamline. I expect you would have made changes.’ He stopped, waited. He was expecting her to speak.

  ‘Probably.’

  ‘I hope that we can work collaboratively together, make the whole department more efficient.’ He stopped again and focussed an intense stare on her.

  ‘Do you think there will be redundancies?’ She blurted, feeling angry and aggressive.

  He looked shocked at her directness. ‘I think it’s too soon to even consider that.’

  ‘What about Damon? What about me? We were told that we both cannot continue as joint heads of finance, that there could be only one.’

  ‘I’ve never said that.’

  ‘It was said before you arrived.’

  Veronica coughed, then stood up. ‘Shall I bring us tea or coffee?’

  ‘No thanks,’ they chorused, too quickly, too sharply.

  Veronica flopped back down onto her chair with a thud.

  ‘Do you think one of us will have to leave? How will you choose?’

  ‘I think it’s too soon…’

  ‘You said that earlier,’ she cut across him. She was angry, angrier than she’d been in a long time. Even angrier than she’d been with Will when he’d told her he was sodding off to America.

  Why was she so angry? This was just work, just business. If she had to leave she would find another job, she was well qualified and experienced.

  She stared hard at Cyril, trying desperately to banish the memory of Jackson from her mind, but how could she when his double, his doppelganger was sitting three feet across the desk from her.

  ‘Are you all right, Lily?’ Veronica asked. ‘You’ve gone very pale.’

  Lily turned to look at Veronica whose face appeared fuzzy. Was she all right?

  ‘Do you need more water?’ Cyril asked, leaning across the desk, his eyes full of concern.

  ‘I’m fine.’ Despite her apparent paleness Lily felt hot. ‘I just need air.’ She stood up. Without socks the trainers were beginning to rub, she winced.

  ‘Are you sure you’re all right?’ Cyril stood up and came round to Lily’s side of the desk.

  ‘Fine. I’m fine. It’s just very hot in here.’ She could feel beads of sweat forming around her hairline. She staggered towards the door.

  Veronica gave Lily an alarmed look, her mouth forming a small oh, as though Lily were committing the ultimate faux pas. Lily shrugged. Did it matter? Did any of it matter? A man who was her erstwhile lover’s double had stolen her job; it was unlikely he would keep her on, who would? No one wanted their rival as their deputy.

  ‘Can we continue this another time?’ Lily’s hand was on the door handle.

  ‘Of course. Veronica will reschedule. Are you sure you’re all right? Can I do anything?’

  ‘No thanks,’ Lily said, escaping from the room and closing the door behind her.

  In the ladies she splashed water on her face, took deep breaths and wondered what the hell was going on. Was she participating in some kind of waking nightmare? Or was she still asleep? Either way if felt surreal.

  ‘Well, that was quick,’ Damon announced as Lily stumbled back to her desk. ‘I hope he’s not going to call me in sooner. I’m not ready. How was it anyway? What did you think of our man?’

  Lily’s phone buzzed in her handbag and she picked it up without answering Damon’s question. What could she say? He’s the double of my gorgeous holiday lover, but he’s the bastard who stole my job.

  She flicked through her phone; a message from Will popped up: Feeling woozy, babe. Think I might have over done the painkillers. Help needed.

  The message was thirty minutes old and he was no longer online. She rang him immediately but he didn’t answer.

  ‘I have to go.’ Lily stood up. ‘Medical emergency.’

  Alarmed, The Europeans looked up.

  ‘Not life and death,’ Lily said, grabbing her things and stomping out, the trainers slipping and slopping on her feet. Or, at least, she hoped not.

  ‘What shall I tell our man?’ Damon called after her but Lily didn’t care.

  When she reached her car she found that someone had retrieved her shoe from the drain grate and propped it up on her windscreen. The heel was intact, and without so much as a scratch.

  ‘Oh babe, you came,’ Will said as he opened the door to Lily. ‘So good of you, I know you don’t like leaving work early.’ If she’d had a key it would have saved him the journey from his kitchen, as well as the painful hobble back with Lily following behind him. He launched himself onto the long, black leather sofa that looked out over the garden via tri-fold glass doors.

  Lily took in the debris in the kitchen; not that calling it a kitchen did it justice. It was a giant room that incorporated kitchen, dining room, sitting room and games room – he had a bar billiards table at one end. Next door was what Will called his grown-up sitting room and another room downstairs was home to his computer and gaming machines; he played online and, according to him, was a grand master at something or other.

  Lily used to imagine this room filled with family, filled with toddler toys and high chairs. Now, she struggled to even imagine it tidy.

  ‘Cleaner comes tomorrow,’ Will said, seeing the look of mild disgust on her face.

  Lily moved towards the dirty breakfast dishes and began stacking them in the dishwasher. She picked up a dishcloth, sniffed it, threw it in the bin and pulled a new one from the drawer. Will watched her and said nothing as she cleared and cleaned.

  He flicked the TV on.

  Finally she came round and sat opposite him on an Eames chair he’d picked up for nothing – he had a flair for that. He’d bought the house cheaply too when the area was less affluent then extended and modernised it; it was worth a fortune now. Lily sometimes wondered if she loved Will’s house more than she loved Will.

  And she wasn’t even sure she loved him anymore.

  ‘How are you feeling?’

  ‘Oh, it aches a bit.’ He shrugged.

  ‘You said you thought you’d overdosed.’

  ‘Did I?’

  ‘Yes. That’s why I rushed over here. I left work to get here. But when I arrive you don’t even mention it. I think you just wanted someone to clear up after you.’

  ‘Oh. Sorry. I think I’m probably just jetlagged. Not thinking straight.’ He shrugged before flicking the TV to another channel, a programme about building cars from scrap spread across the giant screen.

  ‘So,’ Lily said. ‘Other than to clean up your mess you don’t need me.’ She stood up and glanced around for her handbag.

  ‘Don’t be like that, babe. Of course I need you. In fact, I want you so much that I’ve got something for you?’

  ‘Yeah?’ Lily didn’t sit down again. She waited, imagining some tacky bit of weird he’d picked up on his unfinished jaunt across the US, or, more likely, knowing Will, something he’d grabbed in a hurry at the airport.

  ‘Here.’ He pulled open a drawer in the coffee table between them and pulled out a neat jewellery box. He slid it across the table towards her.

  Lily studied it. It was probably earrings. What else could it be?

  She pulled the box closer and picked it up. It was heavier than expected. Too heavy for earrings?

  ‘Open it.’ Will’s voice sounded eager.

  ‘What is it?’ Lily’s face lit up in anticipation.

 
; ‘Just open it, babe.’

  She flicked the lid open. ‘Oh. It’s a key.’

  ‘The key. Key to this house. I meant to give it to you before I went away. I had it with me at dinner. But it all got a bit confused.’

  ‘You mean you were going to give this to me then?’

  ‘Yeah, that’s what I just said, babe.’

  ‘Wow, Will. I don’t know what to say.’ In her mind Lily was already rearranging the room, moving the bar billiards table out to the garage, changing the black leather sofa for something lighter and softer. She imagined how some of her own furniture, elegant and feminine, would fit.

  ‘Yeah, I wanted you to look in while I was away.’ He started surfing the TV channels, his eyes flicking up and down as he waited for something to catch his fancy.

  So he didn’t want her to move in. ‘Oh. Well, it’s a bit late for that.’ She placed the key, in its box, back on the coffee table.

  ‘No, take it, babe. I want you to have it.’

  Lily looked up, her spirits lifted. She grabbed the box again.

  ‘Yeah, it’ll save me having to limp to the front door when you come round. This cast weighs a ton and it’s a bloody nuisance.’

  Lily left the box on the table and stood up.

  ‘It’s not even a full cast,’ Will continued, obliviously. ‘I have to get this temporary thing removed and get a proper one on. I’ve managed to get an appointment at two. Can you run me up to the hospital?’

  ‘But I’m supposed to be at work.’

  ‘It won’t take long. Anyway you’re the boss now.’ Will laughed. ‘Aren’t you?’

  ‘No. I didn’t get the job.’