Being Shirley

by Michelle Vernal

  Tammy on reception didn’t look up from her iPhone as Annie called out a cheery good morning to her. The greeting was not given because she meant it—Tammy was an uppity little madam whose main focus in life was the electronic gadget currently in her hand. No, it was given automatically, done out of habit. The receptionist mumbled the same token pleasantry back, not bothering to peek out from behind her waves of brown hair as Annie breezed past the screen behind her into the typing pool area.

  Once upon a time, it had been a nice place to work with its floor-to-ceiling windows that showcased a smattering of Christchurch’s high-rise buildings and the Avon River. Nowadays, the only constant in the outlook was the river. Slowly the buildings were pulled down around them and at present, the vista resembled what she imagined a postwar zone would look like. It was hard to visualise the bright, new modern city the powers that be assured them all would rise up from the rubble. She had nothing to complain about, though, she reminded herself as she did every morning, because she was one of the lucky ones and life really does go on. That was a lesson she had learned years ago.

  She pulled her eyes away from the window, slung her bag down on the ground and barely had time to drape her jacket across the back of her chair when the door opposite her desk was flung open. Attila made a beeline for her secretary. She was resplendent in head-to-toe taupe. “Annie,” she barked, “I want this contract re-typed and on my desk in an hour. The Crunch n Go people are due in at eleven for signing off and I’ll need to proof it before you run a final copy off.” She smoothed her chignon but needn’t have bothered because no hair on her perfectly coiffed head would dare make a bid for freedom. As she dumped the stack of papers she’d been carrying down on Annie’s desk, they sent a waft of cold air up but she was oblivious of the sudden chill as she fixed her PA with her steely-eyed stare. “Understood?”

  “Consider it done, Adelia.” Annie resisted the temptation to stand, click her heels together and salute, and hoped that the expression she had forced her face into wearing was a sweet smile and not the constipated grimace it felt like. She glanced down at the papers; she knew it would be heads down, bums up for her if she was to get it done in time. Oh yes, it was definitely going to be one of those days. She flipped the birdie at her boss’s retreating back.

  “Did you hear that?” She sat down heavily and turned to Sue, who sat at the desk next to hers. “No good morning, Annie, how are you today, Annie? Or even better, you look nice today, Annie. Followed up with a polite request to type this load of old codswallop up by ten o’clock.”

  Sue blinked at her from behind the thick lenses of her glasses. She reminded Annie of a near-sighted frog. She sighed for the second time that morning. Why did she bother? Sue had the personality of cold porridge. Annie settled herself down for the morning; her fingers flew over the keyboard. She only came up for air to answer her phone.

  “Hello, Manning Stockyard. You’re speaking with Annie Rivers. How may I help?”

  “Hi-ya babes, it’s me. Have you got a sec?”

  The “me” on the phone was Carl and his singsong voice down the line made her smile. It was funny, she’d muse from time to time, how the two people she counted on as her very best friends in the whole world were Kas and Carl and they had both been her sister’s friends first. “Not really. I have to get the contract from hell typed up and on Attila’s desk in half an hour, and I am only a quarter of the way through it.”

  “Multitask while I talk then, sweetie. You girls are supposed to be good at that.”

  Annie laughed and cradled the phone in the crook of her shoulder. She glanced at the contract and carried on tip-tapping. “Okay then, for you, I will attempt to multitask. Now what’s up?”

  “Not a lot. It’s far too cold where I am for that kind of carry-on.”

  Annie didn’t bat at an eye at the double entendre; they were par for the conversational course where Carl was concerned. “Where are you?”

  “I am freezing my butt off on New Brighton Pier, that’s where. I tell you, Annie, that easterly is a bitch and quite frankly so is Cassie.”

  Carl did not feel that his job as freelance fashion photographer should extend itself to model therapy and he had no time for the temperamental moods of some of the girls sent his way.

  “She’s probably just hungry, Carl. Offer to go get her some food. A Big Mac and fries should do it.”

  Carl laughed. “Does that work for Attila?”

  “No but then she’s not a stick insect, just a complete cow.”

  “Touché, sweetie. Anyway enough of all that. I am ringing to see if you have thought any further about going to try the dress on?”

  “Of course! I’ve made an appointment for seven o’clock Thursday week. Are you keen to come with me?”

  “Do you need to ask? Listen, I have a bit on between now and then, which means I will be incommunicado so why don’t we go for an early catch-up dinner beforehand. Nothing that will make you bloat, mind, so your beloved Indian is out, sweetie. How about Thai? If you stay away from the Beef Massaman Curry you should be fine.”

  “The Lemongrass Diner’s supposed to be good and it’s just down the road from Modern Bride. Shall I book it for say, five thirty—or is that too early for you?”

  “No, five thirty will be perfect.”

  “I can’t wait! The dress is a one-off design original according to the lady I spoke to, by Julianne someone or other.”

  “Not Julianne Tigre?”

  “That’s her.”

  “Better start saving, sweetie—Cassie, I said I wanted windswept and moody, not cold and constipated—give me patience! Listen, I gotta go, hun-bun. See you Thursday week. Be good.” He blew her a kiss down the phone and then the line went dead.

  Annie’s mood was much improved as she hung up. She glanced at her screen and saw she had typed in a Big Mac and fries should do it. She quickly backspaced over the text that she didn’t think would go down too well with the health conscious Crunch n Go CEO, and she got back to work.

  At one minute to ten, she pushed her chair back and clasped her hands together, flexed her fingers. It felt good and she wondered how much money she’d get if she were to hit the company with an RSI suit. Or, even better, a personal liability suit on Attila. Annie gathered up the contract, marched over to her boss’s office and rapped on the door.

  “Entah.”

  She rolled her eyes. Who did the woman think she was, the Queen of England? “I have the Crunch n Go contract ready.” Annie opened the door. As she stood in front of Attila’s desk, she couldn’t help but feel like she was back at school being raked over the coals by the headmistress for having her skirt too short or some such misdemeanour. Attila’s glasses were perched at the end of her nose as she looked over the top of them to check her watch pointedly. Satisfied Annie had completed her task in the specified time frame, she took the proffered papers. “Don’t disappear on me. I’m probably going to need you to make some more changes to this but in the meantime I’d like a coffee.”

  “Sure.” Annie’s teeth were gritted as she mentally added, a please would be nice.

  “A proper coffee, not that weasel piss you usually make.”

  She turned on her heel before she could say something she’d regret. Annie marched out of the office and closed the door forcibly behind her the way she used to as a teenager so her mother was never sure whether it could be classed as a slam or not. She stomped past the other secretaries and pushed open the cafeteria door, relieved to find the room empty because she wasn’t in the mood to make conversation.

  I hate my job. She flicked the switch on the kettle before she bent down to fish Attila’s special mug out of the cupboard. Actually, that wasn’t true; she didn’t hate her job. What she hated was working for that cow. Oooh, someone had bought choccie biscuits. The unopened packet next to the mugs distracted her. She grabbed it as her inner voice told her sternly, “You really shouldn’t, Annie Rivers. Your skirt was feeling tight this morning, remem
ber.” To which she silently replied, “Get stuffed.” Annie ripped open the packet. She instinctively knew that one wouldn’t cut the mustard, not with the morning she was having. It was definitely a three biscuit day. Oh, make it four. She glanced over her shoulder to make sure no one was headed her way. Round it up; she’d always preferred even numbers. Satisfied the coast was clear, she bit into one and relished the sweetness for a moment as the chocolate melted on her tongue. She felt better already; it was true chocolate really did possess stress relief properties.

  Attila was simply not human and that was all there was to it, she decided as she munched away. Before her arrival six months ago, when the mild-mannered and good-humoured Mel Humphries had left to go on a year’s maternity leave, Annie had enjoyed her job. She and Mel had often lunched together or partaken of a Friday night tipple after they’d put in a hard week until Mel had gone and gotten pregnant. Yes, she used to arrive at work each morning with a spring in her step—okay, that was an exaggeration, but she had been happy enough.

  There were worse firms around than Manning Stockyard, that was for sure, but these last few months she had been feeling… Annie paused with her teaspoon hovered in midair. What had she been feeling? She couldn’t put a label on the unsettled sensation at the bottom of her stomach. It wasn’t down to the four biscuits she had just snaffled either because it had happened before. Lately, it seemed to flare up more and more. She shook her head and decided not to delve too deeply into that one. Besides, she always got a bit antsy around this time of year. The fug that descended in the week leading up to Roz’s birthday didn’t just disappear; it hovered over her for days afterward. Telling herself that she knew better than to try to analyse this new feeling, she turned her attention instead to stirring the acrid brew you could stand a spoon up in. She was positive that it wasn’t blood that flowed through her boss’s veins but rather Nescafe.

  While Attila was busy overdosing on caffeine and scouring the contract’s fine print for typos, Annie decided she needed to distract herself. She wasn’t in the mood to type or ring crusty old Mr Milner to change his appointment time; she’d do it later. No, she needed something non-work related, something positive to focus on. Remembering how she had mentioned to Kas that she and Tony needed to find a pastime they could share outside of the bedroom, she clicked online and ignored the pile of filing that laid forlornly at the bottom of her in-box. I’ve got more important things to do than put that pile of old guff away. She gave it a derisive glance before she turned her attention back to the computer screen. Her fingers hovered over the keys for a moment as she decided what she should Google before keying in Top Sports for Couples. She scrolled past the smattering of smutty ideas that popped up as a result of her search; she homed in on the site titled “The Top Five Sports for the couple who wants to stay together to play together” and clicked on it.

  A loved up, attractive-looking couple that, as she peered closer at the screen she decided could pass for brother and sister, appeared on her screen. She noted they were both wielding golf clubs and looking pretty darn happy about it too. Golf—now that was something she hadn’t thought about trying before. Would she have to wear a cap and plaid trousers like the lady in the picture? Deciding the sight of her in said outfit wouldn’t do much for their relationship, she moved on. Next up was tennis; they’d been there and done that and nearly come to blows despite the cute white skirt. Table-tennis didn’t get a mention and besides, that hadn’t ended well either. Bowls got short shrift as being boring but skiing gave her pause for thought.

  Annie chewed on her thumbnail and read the blurb eagerly about chasing each other down the slopes and following it up with hot toddies and goodness knows what else in front of a roaring fire. It did sound pretty tempting! But then her face fell as she remembered there was no snow on the slopes of the nearby Southern Alps at the moment. That puts the kibosh on that one. She crossed her fingers for number five. As she clicked on the arrow to the side of the picture, yet another laughing, deeply in love couple appeared but this time they bobbed about at sea in a kayak. Perfect!

  Annie had not known until that moment that kayaking was something she’d always wanted to try but try it she would. Feeling more energised than she had in days, she picked up the phone to ring Tony.

  ***

  Annie chewed her sandwich as she sat hunched over down by the banks of the Avon and wished she had brought her jacket to work because Pervy Justin was right: it was a bit on the brisk side today. She mulled over the conversation she had with Tony before she left the office for lunch. He hadn’t been impressed to hear her voice because he’d had his free hand down a toilet when she rang. In a thoroughly pissed-off voice, he informed her that his mother had drummed it into him and his brothers when they were growing up that the golden rule was always none for a wee and two for a poo. So why was it then that some kids felt the need to use a whole bloody roll, he’d demanded as though she held the answer to this great mystery of life. She hadn’t thought that telling him it was just one of the many perils of the world of plumbing would be deemed a helpful answer and instead she’d tried to move the conversation along and around to what she was in fact ringing him for. “Tony, let’s go kayaking this weekend.”

  Her blurted announcement had been met by silence except for a background sloshing noise and she hadn’t gotten a chance to hear his thoughts on her proposal because at that moment Attila had flew towards her and waved the contract she had edited that morning like a whirling dervish. “Annie, what’s this?”

  “I’ve got to go. Talk to you tonight.” She’d hung up just as the paper hit her desk. Highlighted in yellow was the sentence “no but she’s not a stick insect, just a complete cow.”

  It hadn’t been the finest moment in her working career, Annie mused. She took another bite of her sandwich and eyeballed a duck as it waddled past her. She had a deep mistrust of ducks ever since one had nicked off with her Friday lunch treat, a souvlaki. She still cringed as she thought about the show she’d put on for her fellow alfresco riverside diners as she chased the greedy thing. She hadn’t a chance of catching it, though, because it had made a break for the water and dragged her double chicken with extra chili along behind it. Snaffling the rest of her sarnie before any ducks could launch an attack, she pulled her mobile out of her pocket and contemplated ringing Tony again. No, on second thoughts, perhaps their impending kayaking expedition was a conversation best covered face to face. She popped her phone back in her bag. She swiped the crumbs off her lap before she got to her feet, slung her handbag over her shoulder and dragged her feet back to work.

  Chapter Five

  Carl nudged her leg with his knee under the table. “You didn’t answer me.” They were sitting opposite each other by the window inside the Lemongrass Diner. The popular Thai restaurant wasn’t difficult to find, with its oversized gold Buddha perched on the roof outside that grinned away at the passing trade. Annie had arrived with ten minutes to spare; Carl hadn’t been far behind her. At this hour of the day, there were only a handful of other patrons dotted about its dimly lit interior. The walls, she noticed as she glanced around, were decorated with a smattering of posters. There was one of elephants being ridden by local village men through the jungle, another of the Grand Palace, and a disturbing poster of tribal women with strange gold bangles wrapped around their necks that elongated them. It did not look a very comfortable way of carrying on, Annie thought and rubbed her own neck as their twin bowls of aromatic Pad Thai had arrived in record-breaking time.

  She had been lost in thought about her and Tony’s kayak outing that she had finally managed to talk him round to this coming Sunday as she savoured the pungent rice dish. Outside, the streetlights had come on and office workers, huddled into their coats, strode past in a hurry to get home. “Sorry, I was miles away. What did you say?”

  “I asked if you’ve told Tones what we’re up to tonight.” At the expression on her face, Carl answered for her, “I can take that as a no t
hen.”

  “I didn’t see the point. I mean, I don’t even know if I’ll like the dress until I actually try it on.”

  “If you say so.” Carl speared a piece of chicken with his fork. “Mmm, this is delish.”

  “It is. You will never guess what Tony and I are doing tomorrow?” She scooped up a forkful of fluffy, savoury rice.

  Carl raised a questioning eyebrow. “Do I want to know?”

  She put her fork down, leaned over the table and thumped him playfully. “Don’t be rude. We’re going kayaking.”

  Carl snorted. “Pardon?”

  “Don’t look so surprised! I can be outdoorsy from time to time, you know.”

  “The last time you did anything remotely outdoorsy was that team building bush walk your firm organised and”—he giggled—“when you dropped your drawers to go for a behind the bush wee, a bee stung you on your bum and it swelled up like a dinner plate. Ha-ha!” The giggle turned into a guffaw; the demure Thai waitress who was taking an order at the next table glanced over in alarm. Carl wasn’t in the least perturbed as he carried on. “You said Tony kept calling you his girlfriend with three cheeks for days after!”

  Annie wriggled on her seat at the uncomfortable memory he had just conjured. It was not her most dignified moment, having to present her swollen left cheek to her doctor for inspection, who desperately tried to keep a straight face as she relayed her tale of woe. “It wasn’t funny—it was horrific and trust you to bring it up. What if I’d been allergic and gone into anaphylactic shock? Carl, stop laughing!” Once she was satisfied he had his breathing under control again, she said, “No, I’ve decided Tony and I need to find something we can do together and I’ve always wanted to try kayaking so—”