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

by CJ Morrow

  ‘Yes. Well, you took him home; did he pretend not to be Cyril?’

  ‘No. He didn’t. We even talked about work. You do know that the company who bought us is owned by his family, don’t you?’

  ‘No.’ They’d never talked about work; or family, or the past, or the future – it was just a holiday fling. But he had said that he was leaving because of family obligations.

  ‘Yes, it was at their insistence that he came here to oversee the finances. I got the impression,’ Damon lowered his voice even though they were alone in the kitchen. ‘That he wasn’t that keen.’

  ‘Me too,’ Lily said, remembering his sad reluctance when he left Devon.

  ‘And he’s never identified himself as one and the same person to you? Not even yesterday?’

  ‘He introduced himself as Jackson, but there really wasn’t much opportunity for proper conversation when we were flapping about in the air. Anyway I’m not sure he recognised me at first.’ A shiver went down her spine as she remembered how he tried to reassure her in the plane, called her by her name.

  ‘Yes he did.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Yes, he said he recognised you from the back, even with, and I quote…’ Damon smirked. ‘All that lovely hair tucked into your helmet.’

  ‘He said that?’ Probably remembered the thunder thighs.

  ‘Oh yes. Just so we’re clear, Lily, have you identified yourself to him?’

  ‘No. There’s never been a chance. All the meetings we’ve had have been with other people present. But I haven’t drastically altered my appearance. I look the same. He doesn’t.’

  Damon raised an eyebrow. ‘Mmm. I think you’re as bad as each other. And where does the love of your life, Will, fit in all this?’

  Lily shook her head slowly. Where did he fit? Where did anyone fit?

  ‘And then there’s The French Lady, his wife, where does she fit?’

  ‘I don’t know. It’s a mess, isn’t it? Maybe none of it fits. Maybe we’re all just separate pieces that don’t go together. And none of it would matter if I hadn’t had a holiday fling with him first. I wish that hadn’t happened.’

  ‘Really? When he spoke of you yesterday he had that look in his eyes, well, his one good eye anyway.’ Damon tittered.

  ‘What look?’

  ‘Mmm. Let me think. Love. Or it could have been lust.’

  ‘Ha ha. Not funny.’

  ‘You need to have this out with him. You need everything out in the open. You need to bury the hatchet, so to speak.’ He laughed then opened the kitchen door. ‘Come on, I’ve got work to do, and you’ve got a report to proof.’

  The report was perfect, not one error, not one typo, but she knew that before she even looked at it – this was Damon’s way of bringing her up-to-date and making her feel included. She wondered if Jackson-slash-Cyril thought she was involved in the irregularities. Was that why he hadn’t involved her in the investigation? The thought made her heart sink.

  The report was long and detailed; some of Damon’s best work. As Lily absorbed its contents she felt relieved, Damon concluded that there had been no irregularities in their department, no financial errors on their part. He suspected, and had found evidence to support his suspicion, that there were other bank accounts, other transactions that were not going through Bensons’ accounts. Selfishly she was grateful that she wasn’t a complete dunderhead. But what did it mean for Bensons? What would happen now?

  ‘He has auditors working on tracking the other accounts,’ Damon said over lunch in a little café he’d taken Lily to. He was on his second piece of lemon drizzle cake. ‘You should try this, it’s so good.’

  She thought of her thighs. ‘Not for me, thanks. Did he already know about other accounts then?’

  ‘I told him my suspicions as soon as I started looking into it. To be honest once I really started to dig, I don’t know how we didn’t notice before. Of course, it was cleverly done, so we wouldn’t have gone looking. Sort of hidden in plain sight. But Cyril smelled a rat pretty quickly. He’s better than us at this.’ Damon licked lemon drizzle off his fingers. ‘That’s why he’s never here; he’s in London with the auditors, going through stuff from years ago.’

  Lily felt sick; so she was a dunderhead. Damon had just said they should have spotted it.

  ‘It’s all stopped now. Whatever was going on. All the bank accounts have been frozen, even the ones we didn’t know about.’

  ‘Good. That’s good, isn’t it?’ Lily felt anxious.

  ‘Problem is we don’t know what will happen now? To Bensons, I mean. We all know how the recession hit the company; we survived, but only just. We know it’s been touch and go since, what with China and cheap imports and customers being able to source their own products direct. But when this news gets out, what then? Let’s hope our man can pull something out of his bag of tricks.’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘From what you’ve said, he’s quite good at deception – is that the right word?’ Damon laughed. ‘So there’s hope for us all.’

  ‘Is there?’ Lily doubted that.

  ‘Let’s hope. Because the last thing anyone wants is for the company to go out of business. Think of The Europeans, how will they cope?’

  ‘Better than the rest of us, I suspect,’ Lily said, getting up.

  ‘We don’t want anymore going like poor old Josh. Made redundant and dying on the same day.’ Damon waved to the waitress as he left cash on the table.

  Poor Josh. She still couldn’t accept he had died, moreover because she still believed she’d seen him in Devon. ‘We’d better get back,’ she muttered. ‘While we still have jobs to go to.’

  She arrived at Will’s after work to find him in the kitchen cooking; he had propped himself up on a bar stool and was using it like a Zimmer frame.

  ‘Come in, sit down,’ he said, after she’d let herself in with her key. ‘I’m making a celebratory meal.’

  ‘What’s the occasion?’ Did he mean the skydiving?

  ‘You! Raising four grand.’ He did mean the skydiving.

  ‘Oh, that. I’m trying to forget that.’

  ‘Why? You did so well. My mates were really impressed you went through with it, especially after Big Lee chickened out.’ He laughed. Too much.

  ‘Don’t mock Big Lee. I almost didn’t do it. It was terrifying.’ She didn’t tell Will how Big Lee had mocked her. ‘Anyway, you don’t know how you would have reacted.’

  He frowned at her. ‘Never mind Big Lee, this is about you.’ He pulled a bottle of prosecco from the fridge and poured them both a glass.

  ‘Mmm, not champagne.’ She forced a laugh.

  ‘Not on this occasion.’ He winked at her. ‘To Lily,’ he said. ‘For her bravery.’

  ‘To me,’ she echoed. For my stupidity.

  ‘I was going to cook this last night.’ He pushed minced beef around in a frying pan, before adding chopped tomatoes. ‘But you didn’t come home.’ He winked at her again; did he have a twitch?

  ‘I did go home, to my home. Anyway, I told you, I had a headache.’ She didn’t know if she was in the mood for one of Will’s spag bols. She watched him force the spaghetti into a pan of boiling water.

  Will fell asleep on the sofa after they’d eaten the meal and finished off the prosecco.

  Lily checked the time, it was quarter past nine. Should she stay or should she go?

  Then Tess messaged: Just seen the video and pics. Hilarz xx

  Lily: Yeah. Very. Lol xx

  Tess: Gemma said Jackson was there. That you gave him a black eye??

  Lily: Not on purpose. Hilarz. Long story xx

  Tess: Well done you – not for the eye, for the jump. Catch up soon xx

  Will started to snore as Lily cleared the kitchen, put the dishwasher on and collected her things. She’d drunk too much to drive home; she would have to stay.

  She climbed into Will’s bed and, tired from lack of sleep the night before, fell instantly into a deep slumber whi
le Will snored on downstairs.

  It was past midnight when she awoke, screaming out in pain.

  ‘Sorry,’ Will said, patting her. ‘This bloody cast.’

  ‘It’s okay.’ She rubbed her throbbing shin.

  ‘Sorry I nodded off too. It’s the painkillers and the wine. Killer combo.’ He kept using that excuse.

  Now disturbed and too alert, Lily lay awake listening to Will who was soon snoring again. Eventually she got up, went downstairs and watched TV. But she couldn’t concentrate, couldn’t think of anything but the mess she was in with Jackson, with Cyril, with work.

  Tomorrow, when Jackson was in the office she would confront him; clear the air, put the past behind them. If they were going to work together their relationship had to be professional. If they weren’t going to work together she would need a good reference from him.

  Either way, they needed clarity. She needed clarity.

  Twenty-one

  ‘Can you fit me in to see Jackson, urgh I mean Cyril, as soon as possible today, please?’ Lily stood in front of Veronica’s desk.

  ‘He’s back-to-back all day,’ Veronica said without even looking up.

  ‘But I really need to see him today. It’s important. Please.’

  Sighing Veronica scanned her computer screen. ‘Okay. Four-thirty is the best I can do.’

  ‘Nothing earlier?’

  ‘No. Can’t it wait until Monday?’

  ‘No. I’ll take four-thirty. Will you tell him I want to see him urgently?’

  ‘Yes. At four-thirty.’ Veronica began stabbing the keys on her computer.

  ‘Tell him before four-thirty, if you can. Please.’

  ‘I’ll see what I can do.’

  ‘Have you just had a run in with Scare-a-von?’ Damon said as Lily returned to her desk.

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘Me too. She’s obviously in that sort of mood. She read my report before passing it on to Cyril, but she told me it had a grammatical error in it.’

  ‘Did it? I never noticed.’

  ‘That’s because it didn’t. We almost had a stand up row about the apostrophe rule, then she had to admit she was wrong. One-nil to Damon, I think.’ He licked a finger and drew an imaginary one in the air. ‘Anyway, did you win your battle with her?’

  ‘Sort of. It’s okay.’ She slumped into her seat and turned to her work. ‘I’m seeing him later.’

  Damon arched his eyebrows.

  The day dragged, she popped round several times to find Veronica scowling at people as a steady stream of employees – all female – trouped in and out of Cyril’s office. HR Heather emerged on one occasion looking hot and harassed; she gave Lily a tight-lipped smile on her way to get coffee.

  Of course, today was the day he was seeing Oliver Banstead’s previous victims. If he was back-to-back with appointments, how many were there? Lily wondered if she’d stirred up a real hornets’ nest, wondered how it would end. But then she reminded herself that Oliver Banstead had friends on high, otherwise he’d have gone years ago – he’d probably be the one who came out smiling.

  At lunchtime she drove into town; she was going to cheer herself up with a new dress to celebrate the skydiving triumph. But she came back empty handed – the truth was her mind just wasn’t on the task. As she parked her car back in Bensons’ car park and got out she heard a loud cackle behind her.

  ‘So, it’s little Lily two shoes again.’

  ‘Oliver,’ Lily said, surprised to see him. She tried to keep her face impassive.

  ‘We’re making a habit of meeting in this car park.’ He cackled again, his belly-bulge wobbling rhythmically.

  ‘It’s the company car park, so that will happen.’ Lily locked her car.

  ‘Thanks to you I’ve been given some extra holiday. On top of the extra bonus I’m expecting this month, it’s win-win for me. I’m just off now to the races, got complimentary tickets from a customer.’

  ‘Good for you,’ Lily said, turning to walk away. ‘Have a nice afternoon.’

  ‘Aren’t you going to ask why I’m thanking you?’

  Lily stood dumbfounded. Should she even be talking to him? Weren’t they pitted on opposite sides of a serious complaint?

  ‘Well I’ll tell you anyway. I’ve been given extra leave to get over the trauma of what you called me, and the stress of the complaints process. Like I said, it’s all a big win for me.’ He grinned.

  Lily nodded and smiled and walked away as fast as she could. ‘Oily Bastard,’ she muttered under her breath.

  After lunch she approached Veronica again, but the aggressive raised eyebrows that greeted her request soon told her that no, Cyril would not be available before four-thirty.

  At three pm she pulled out her notebook and started making her list. She wanted to ensure that she didn’t miss anything in her meeting with Cyril.

  First point: is Cyril, in fact, Jackson?

  She already knew the answer to that one, but she wanted him to say it. Say it out loud; say it with his own voice, hear the words from his own lips.

  Second point: why hadn’t he identified himself when they first met in his office?

  She thought back to that first meeting, had he actually recognised her then? He must have done, she wasn’t the one who’d had a complete makeover and assumed a new identity. Other than tidying her hair, she looked exactly the same. What would he say? Would he use the excuse of Veronica being present? Would he ask her why she hadn’t identified herself? Would she use the excuse of Veronica being present?

  Third point: what was he doing invading her real life?

  Fourth point: why hadn’t he explained himself at the skydive – before she’d given him a black eye? Why had they been paired together?

  He would probably ask why she had gone to such lengths to keep her face hidden when she could easily be identified by her thunder thighs. He wouldn’t say that, would he?

  She turned back to her work, stopping occasionally to add another question to the list, sometimes to doodle comments – not all of them polite – in the margin. She had plenty to ask Jackson-slash-Cyril and she wanted answers.

  ‘Oh. My. God.’ Damon’s voice was too high and too loud.

  Lily turned and gave him a quizzical frown. What was he squawking about?

  Damon’s eyes swivelled to his left and he used his head to point in the same direction. ‘Look,’ he mouthed, as if she needed any more indicators.

  At the far end of the office Will hobbled into sight. He was using only one crutch now – Lily thought of the chafing under his arms, at least it would halve his discomfort. In his other arm he gripped a giant bouquet of flowers.

  What the hell was he doing?

  He clomped down the office, gingerly putting weight on the bright blue cast. Clomp went the cast, click went the crutch, rustle went the flowers.

  Clomp, click, rustle.

  As he passed desks people stopped what they were doing and stared after him. Little smiles played on some faces, little sneers on others.

  Clomp, click, rustle.

  It took a long time for him to reach her; the world seemed to be moving in slow motion.

  ‘Hello,’ he said. Clomp, click, rustle. He looked nervous, almost shy. He thrust the flowers at her. ‘These are for you. You’ve been so good to me.’

  Lily swallowed hard. ‘Thank you,’ she croaked, turning to lay them on her desk. He could have sent them, she thought, rather than go through this. He could have given them to her at home. Don’t be so ungrateful, she chided herself. ‘They’re beautiful.’

  When she turned back Will was on one knee and wobbling around on his cast, still clutching the crutch. ‘Oh my God,’ she said, worrying about the damage he might be doing to his ankle. What was he playing at?

  ‘Lily,’ he began to a hushed office. ‘We’ve been together on and off for a few years now and I know I’m not always the most attentive boyfriend.’ A little murmur rippled through the audience that had now assembled and was creepi
ng closer.

  Lily gave off a stupid little titter. The realisation of what was about to happen was beginning to dawn on her.

  ‘Lily, babe,’ Will said, his voice hoarse. ‘Will you marry me?’ He proffered a ring box, flipped open and displaying the most exquisite diamond and emerald ring.

  This was what she’d always wanted, a commitment from him. Living together would have done the trick, certainly for now, but this, she’d never expected this. Did she want it? Did she want to marry him? She looked across the sea of expectant faces, all silent, all waiting, all holding their breath for her answer.

  And there was Jackson. Watching intently, his face blank, his eyes so wide-open and blue. Was she late for her appointment with him? Was it four-thirty already?

  ‘Lily?’ Will said, an edge of fear to his voice.

  She looked into Will’s earnest, handsome face, glanced around the assembled crowd. What would she say? What could she say?

  ‘Yes,’ she proclaimed. ‘Yes.’ She spread the biggest, brightest smile across her face for all to see. Will fumbled the ring out of its box and Lily stepped forward so he could place, well, force, it onto her finger.

  ‘Your fingers are fatter than I thought,’ Will mumbled to himself.

  Finally it was on; she held up her hand and smiled.

  A loud rumble of laughter, clapping and whooping filled the office. Lily watched Jackson blink several times then turn away; he strode back to his office.

  ‘Lily,’ Damon said, getting her attention. He wobbled his head around as though trying to say something without using words. He had a hand under Will’s elbow, attempting to get him up.

  ‘Oh, right.’ Lily laughed as she grabbed Will’s other elbow and together she and Damon hauled Will to his feet.

  ‘Not very dignified that.’ Will rammed his arm into the crutch.

  ‘No one noticed,’ Lily lied.

  ‘Show me properly.’ Damon grabbed Lily’s hand and inspected the ring closely. ‘Lovely. What a lucky girl.’ He pulled Lily into a hug. ‘You okay, girl?’

  ‘Sure,’ she said, wondering if it had been wise to confess all to Damon. Was he now looking on Will with pity?