I pad bare foot over to the window where I can hear voices coming from the driveway below. Ned and Kev are standing on the drive talking and laughing. Kev throws a cigarette end in the bushes and I sigh to myself and grab my robe, pushing my feet into my slippers to make my way downstairs. When I open the front door, Kev has his back to me as his hand disappears up the crack of his arse, scratching furiously. I wince and cough loudly and they both spin round to face me.
‘Morning, missus, we were just talking about your electrics.’ He stands, legs apart with his hands shoved in his jeans pockets.
‘Morning Ned,’ I reply, shivering in the April morning air. ‘Have you got a quote for me yet?’
‘Not yet, but I got you a good spark, my brother-in-law, he’s coming over later this morning to have a look see,’ he stares at me and takes in my robe and my dishevelled state. ‘Are you not working today, missus?’
‘Lola.’ I correct him yet again and he fumbles around uncomfortably. ‘I’ve got a late start today so I’ve had a bit of a lie in. Can you get some figures for me as soon as possible please, I really need to get moving on this and I need to keep track of my budget.’ That’s a laugh I think to myself, the budget has died a slow and lingering death, never to be resurrected again.
‘Right you are, I’ll have something for you this afternoon,’ he says, looking over the overgrown garden and the weeds sprouting through the gravel on the drive. ‘Do you want me to find you a good gardener too?’
I pull my robe tighter around my body. ‘I was planning to do most of it myself to keep costs down.’
‘Well you has a job and half there, missus...sorry, Lola.’ He looks uncomfortable and shuffles from one foot to the other.
I smile and raise my eyebrows at him. ‘I’ll manage, Ned, and can you ask Kev to stop chucking his dog-ends in the bushes please.’
I turn and walk back towards the front door to get ready for the day and I hear him say, ‘right you are missus.’
I doubt I’ll ever manage to stop him calling me ‘missus’ I think as I go back in the house, but I do find it kind of amusing. Ned is a good sort, but most importantly, he’s cheap, plus he seems to know everyone. I just hope all the work will be finished soon so I can chill out in my lovely new home at long last.
After a quick shower, I towel dry my hair before pulling a brush through it. I pull on some leggings and quickly check to see how big my bum looks. Satisfied I will get away with it, I pull on a longish black top and throw my purple leather jacket over the top and slip my feet into matching purple ballet pumps. I put on a bit of mascara and lipstick and I’m done and out of the door.
I arrive at the shop and unusually there are two parking spaces free with no sign of Sandip’s colossal van. So I park my little car and go into the shop via the back door. I can see Muriel at the front of the shop, sorting out some of the rails.
The shop doesn’t look very big from the outside, but once you pass through the door, it goes back quite a way, until you get to the changing rooms and the office and stock room, which is where I now stand.
‘Morning, Muriel,’ I shout, as I dump my bag in the office and make my way to the front of the shop. ‘You’re very busy this morning, what’s going on?’
‘Morning, Lola, remember we were talking about clearing out some of the things we’ve had on the rails for a while? Well I thought I would get cracking with it. You can have a look at what you want to keep and what you want to mark down or give to charity. I thought we could have a sale rail over on that side.’ She points to the right-hand side of the door where she has cleared a space.
‘Good idea, and yes we do need a really good sort out. Did you notice I was busy out the back yesterday, see how tidy it is now?’
‘I did notice, and it looks great. We can set up a desk and your other stuff out there if you wanted, make you a proper office?’
‘Oh I like that idea Muriel - I do need somewhere to sort out the invoices.’ I take a quick look round the shop and decide it looks like thirsty work. ‘Do you fancy a cup of tea?’
‘Do I ever, my throat is full of dust after moving these rails.’
‘Well give me two minutes and I’ll be back with tea and biscuits,’ I say, and make my way to the back of the shop.
‘Chrissie came in first thing - she helped me move the rails.’ I hear her shout.
‘Blimey, she spends more time in the shop than I do lately,’ I laugh, and get busy with the kettle, pulling the cups out of the cupboard above the sink and unwrapping the biscuits before arranging them on a plate.
As I walk back down the shop with the tray, Muriel stops what she is doing and gratefully takes her tea from me, giving it a quick blow before she has a slurp at it. She puts it down and stops momentarily and her eyes flick over my face. ‘Chrissie mentioned you had seen James last night?’
I look down quickly so as to not engage her questioning stare. ‘News certainly travels fast around here.’
‘I don’t think she meant to say anything about him, it just sort of slipped out, you know what she’s like. She didn’t mean any harm by it.’
I sigh to myself. ‘I know she didn’t. I just don’t know what to make of it.’
Muriel knows all about the James situation, she had helped me through it all, listening to me prattle on endlessly, pouring my heart out and giving me hugs and cups of tea and what seemed like millions of Kleenex tissues when the tears came. And believe me they came often at the beginning. I don’t know what I would have done without her to hold my hand through it all.
‘I had the dream again last night. I haven’t had it for at least six months. I thought I was over it but I just relived it all over again. What am I going to do, Muriel?’
She sits down on the box shelf behind the counter and motions for me to do the same. ‘What did he say to you?’
I give her a blow by blow account of the events of last night, including the bit where I agreed to go for a drink with James against my better judgement.
‘Would you want to get back together with James?’ she says, her brows almost meeting.
‘Yes, no, I don’t know. I’m not sure he was that good for me but we were together for a long time and I don’t think I can start off fresh with someone else.’
‘Well you shouldn’t go out with him just because you share a history. And you obviously are having doubts about it, which isn’t an auspicious start is it? And to think you couldn’t start off fresh with someone new, I don’t know where you’ve got such an idea,’ she says, holding my hand between hers and giving it a rub.
‘Oh I don’t know, Muriel. I don’t know what to think, I don’t want to fall under his spell again. I’ve worked hard to get myself back to this point and I’m focusing on the shop and the house, wouldn’t it be a backward step?’
‘As far as I can see, Lola, it’s just a drink together. You don’t have to see him again after that, if you don’t want to. Just meet him to show there are no hard feelings between you and don’t commit yourself to anything else until you’ve given yourself plenty of time to consider the options.’ She pats my hand and goes back to sorting dresses onto alternate rails.
‘You’re right as always, Muriel,’ I say, standing up and giving her a big hug and kiss on the cheek. ‘I’ll just go and see what he wants, after all not much has changed in my world, I’m still doing up the house and he didn’t want any part of it when I last saw him. And he got himself another girlfriend pretty quickly - I wonder what happened to her?’
I stop and think for a moment. There was no sign of her last night but that didn’t mean anything. Maybe he just wants to be friends after all and I am reading too much into it. I shake my head to get rid of his image in my mind.
‘Okay, enough already. Why exactly are we re-arranging the shop again?’ I say, picking up a blouse from the pile Muriel has discarded.
‘I told you, to clear out the old stock. Plus Katherine is bringing down her designs next week to show to you, remember my
niece? And you’re going to need some space to showcase them.’
‘What if I don’t like them?’ I ask, sipping my now lukewarm tea.
‘Oh you will, trust me you’ll love them.’
Chapter Four
It’s nearly six o’clock and we’ve been busy in the shop for most of the day. Typically, as the shop was upside down with our sort out, we had a nonstop stream of customers coming in, but as they were spending money, I’m not going to complain too much about that. But now I’m feeling worn out and I’m covered in dust yet again. I’ve also promised to go to Nottingham to spend the weekend with my Mom for her birthday, so as I need to be there by seven-thirty, I really need to get a wriggle on.
I’m just locking the shop door when a man appears outside, hiding behind an enormous bouquet of flowers. He raps hard on the glass, so I open the door and he shoves the bouquet into my arms.
‘Delivery for Lola,’ he says, and I cringe as he sings the Kinks song Lola. He looks very proud of himself, as if he’s the first one to ever do it. Feeling slightly irritated, I take the bouquet off him and push him out of the door so I can get going. I manhandle the enormous bouquet onto the counter and have a frisk around until I eventually find the card and read it.
I miss you. J.
I’ve been flower bombed by James. My knees start to tremble, so I take a seat as I fear they will buckle beneath me at any second. Now I’m totally confused. He bumps into me by chance last night but now all of a sudden he misses me? I’m not sure what is going on there, and I really haven’t got time to ponder on it, so I grab my bags and the monster bouquet, and then lock up the shop.
In the car park I see that someone has parked so close to the driver’s door of my little Peugeot there is no way I can squeeze through the gap to get in - not even after extensive liposuction on my thighs. I had parked the passenger door close to the wall, so I’m a bit buggered as to what to do next. I balance the flowers on the roof of the car and dump my bags next to them and then go and hammer on Sandip’s back door.
He opens the door and steps out. ‘Hey, Lola, I’m not blocking you in am I?’
‘Hi, Sandip, no you’re not, but someone is. Do you know who that car belongs to? I can’t get in my own car and I have to be in Nottingham like really soon.’ I look at my watch for confirmation.
He glances at the gap between my car and the offending vehicle and scratches the bristles on his chin while he thinks about it. ‘You would need to be really thin, Lola to fit in that gap,’ he laughs, and points at the gap while eyeing my backside. To be fair, even Kate Moss couldn’t squeeze through that gap, so I’m starting to feel a little hurt and a deep blush colours my face.
Then his face lights up as he has a bright idea. ‘You can climb in through the hatchback, and then I’ll guide you out of the space.’ He puts his thumbs up and a big grin spreads across his face.
I roll my eyes and sigh at the thought of climbing into the car through the back door. It’s not going to be my most elegant moment but what other choice do I have? I unlock the car and shove my bags into the boot. Then for some reason unknown to me and the rest of the universe, I decide to gently manoeuvre the flowers through, water bag first, onto the back seat thinking I can secure them later. Taking a few deep breaths I climb in the back of the car so I’m kneeling in the boot. I glance back at Sandip, who gives me another thumbs up signal, and I thank all the Gods I’m not wearing a skirt today. I’m not sure which is the best way is to do this, so I lever up my right leg and try to push it over the back of the seat. Somehow though, my foot hooks up with the rear seat belt and I can’t move.
‘I’m stuck, Sandip, my foot is stuck,’ I say, my leg hovering in the air.
‘It’s okay, I’ll help you,’ he shouts back. I’m not sure why he is shouting at me as I’m only a foot away from him and the car hasn’t rendered me deaf. I feel two big hands latch onto my buttocks and a mighty push as I sail through the gap. I barrel over and land on the backseat on top of the bouquet. My face is stuck in a jungle of flowers and I’ve got pollen all over me. Then I feel a sudden swoosh of cold water on my hands and knees as the water bag bursts soaking me.
I pull myself into a kneeling position on the backseat, wipe my face with my wet hands and glance back at Sandip who gives me yet another thumbs up. Any trace of dignity I had previously has now completely disappeared, so I clamber over the driver’s seat. My knee bashes off the gear stick and I land heavily on the steering wheel with my elbows, inadvertently honking the horn with the impact.
By the time I am finally sitting in the driver’s seat I am totally flustered, covered in water and pollen, bruised in several places, and I’m sure I’ll never look at Sandip in the same way again. My buttocks are still glowing hot from his manhandling. Sandip slams down the boot door and motions for me to back out. As I pull out level with him he flashes me a big grin and of course, gives me the now trademark thumbs up.
Trying to recover myself, I drive off towards the Waddling Duck. As luck would have it I see Mike outside the pub watering the hanging baskets, so I do a drive by visit. I let him know I may be interested in having a lodger after all and to get his nephew to give me a call. Then I drive past my own house and feel a little peeved I haven’t got time to go in, as I carry on my way to Nottingham.
I get to mom’s house half an hour late. She is waiting on guard in the veranda as I pull up. She comes out, yanking the passenger door open none too gently. ‘You’re late, Lola. Where have you been, the dinner is going to be frazzled to death.’
‘Hi, Mom.’ I try to keep it bright and breezy, but it already looks as if it is going to be one of those weekends, I’m in trouble already.
She glances into the back of the car at the flower Armageddon and her lips purse up like a cat’s backside. ‘Are they for me?’
Well I can’t say no now she has spotted them can I? If I tell her they are from James she will think I have mangled them up on purpose in some sort of spiteful act. And I really don’t want to get into the whole James situation with her, so I just nod my head, smile and say, ‘happy birthday, mom.’
‘Really, Lola, when are you going to start trying a bit harder?’ she tuts to herself, and gathers up the flowers. She pulls out the now empty water bag and examines it, her face wrinkling in disgust. ‘I suppose I’ll have to see if I can rescue any of them, it looks as if you’ve been sitting on them.’
I don’t bother explaining. I can never win with her so I just follow her into the house, like a scolded puppy. I’m in the doghouse already and I’ve hardly opened my mouth yet. I drop my bag at the foot of the stairs, and go into the kitchen where I can smell my favourite lamb casserole cooking and feel my stomach rumble in response. There are only two places set at the table for dinner.
‘Where’s Malcolm? And I thought Alexander was coming over too?’ Malcolm is my poor suffering step dad, usually my ally when my mom starts nagging at me, which is often. Alexander is my younger brother who, according to mom, has the sun shining out of his backside. Don’t get me wrong, I love my little brother, but he can’t put a foot wrong in my mom’s eyes and it gets a little bit wearing after the twenty-six years or so he has been on this earth, and I have been in his shadow.
‘Malcolm will be a little late, and Alexander is so busy at work he couldn’t make it, poor thing, but he sent me these beautiful flowers today.’ She points to the flowers on the countertop, her face beaming with pride and I just smile. It’s typical of Alex to find a way out of visiting and yet he still manages to be the perfect son. Yet here I am, I’d nearly broken my neck to get here and I feel like the world’s worst daughter.
We sit down to dinner and I shovel a few forkfuls of casserole into my mouth, I am so hungry I feel like I haven’t eaten in a month. ‘So have you had a nice birthday, mom?’
‘Yes, dear, I’ve been out today with your Aunt Sheila. We went to a beauty salon and I had a facial and a manicure and pedicure.’ She holds out her long pink fingernails for me to i
nspect. ‘How have you been, dear? I haven’t seen you in quite a while.’
‘It’s only been three weeks, mom - you called in and saw me at the shop remember?’
‘Yes I do remember, I’m not senile yet, Lola. I meant saw you properly, like we’re doing now, for the weekend.’
Damn, I had been hoping I could slope off tomorrow, but it looks as if she is going to guilt me into staying for the whole weekend. I look at my watch - hopefully Malcolm will be back soon.
‘So how is the shop doing, it seemed a bit quiet when we came to visit?’ She carefully puts her knife and fork down on the side of her plate between mouthfuls.
‘It’s doing great,’ I lie, ‘we’re about to introduce a new designer, so that should boost sales a bit.’
‘Well, if you need me to come over and help you in any way you only need to ask, dear. I’m always willing to help out my children, you know that.’ She nods her head to confirm this.
Inside I recoil in horror while trying to keep an expression of serenity on my face, which takes some doing. I can’t think of anything worse than having my Margaret-Thatcher-a-like mother, prowling round my shop, moving things and bossing everyone around. ‘Thanks, mom, but we are pretty well covered at the moment.’
‘Yes, well the offer is there.’ I sense her bristling from the rejection and I try to ignore it and quickly change the subject.
‘The house is coming on well, mom. Although I have to get all the electrics redone, Ned said they were worn out.’ Okay, I know they weren’t his exact words but I don’t want to give her a heart attack, do I?
‘That’s nice, although it sounds like a lot of work and a lot of money. I don’t know why you don’t just sell it, Lola, it’s far too big a house for one person. It’s a family house,’ she says, forking a chunk of lamb carefully from her plate.
Lola's House (Lola Series) Page 3
