Drive Me Crazy

by Portia MacIntosh

  ‘Erm…blonde, curly hair. Early forties. Short,’ I babble, struggling to describe her without using her obvious identifier.

  ‘Oh, I know, the one with the big – ’

  ‘Heart,’ I interrupt him, to save him from having to state the (awkward) obvious. The thing with Charlie is that she wears these distractingly low V-neck tops that really accentuate her chest. And when I say they’re low, I mean they’re low. Even I can’t help but stare. It’s like her neckline is an arrow pointing down towards her cleavage, sucking you in like the Bermuda triangle.

  ‘Yes,’ he replies with a thoughtful nod. ‘Heart.’ The new guy thinks for a second before adding: ‘That must by why her tops are so tight, if her heart is so big.’

  I laugh, shaking my head. ‘Well, I’d better get back to work,’ I tell him. It’s strange, but I kind of don’t want to go. Perhaps it’s because there’s such a nice atmosphere in here, even if I don’t know what anyone is talking about most of the time.

  ‘Well, I’ll see you at Charlie’s leaving do then,’ he tells me. ‘I imagine her boobs are already halfway out the door.’

  I can’t help but leave the IT department with a big smile on my face, grinning to myself all the way back through the banana. For once, I’m actually looking forward to a work thing.

  Chapter 8

  ‘What kind of party is this?’ the new guy asks as he sidles up to me, disappointment in his voice. ‘There’s no booze.’

  New guy. Again. I can’t get rid of him! The truth is, though, that I’m glad he’s here because until he came to stand next to me, I was just hanging around in the canteen on my own and it would have certainly stayed that way. I did catch the attention of my female fan club when I entered the room – minus Caroline who isn’t here – but her minions made me feel suitably unwelcome. You’d think Julie would show me a little solidarity considering we’re the only two young female employees, but I’ve been able to feel her burning a hole in the back of my head with her death stare since I arrived.

  ‘It’s lunchtime and we’re at work,’ I remind him. ‘Anyway, this lot don’t do well with drink.’

  From where we’re standing in the corner of the canteen, we have a clear view of everyone. Well, everyone but Caroline – and Will, who is stuck in a meeting, so I decide it’s safe to tell the new guy a little bit about everyone.

  ‘That’s Charlie, the guest of honour,’ I say as I point her out.

  ‘Who are the two bald guys standing next to her?’ he asks seriously.

  ‘There’s no one next to her,’ I reply, puzzled. Charlie is over by the buffet table, munching away on a sausage roll.

  ‘Oh, no, wait,’ new guy starts, ‘it’s just her boobs. Carry on.’

  I giggle and shake my head. I admire Charlie’s confidence to wear such low tops, especially around all the pervy blokes who work here. I’d love to care less about what people think.

  ‘You see that guy.’ I subtly point at a young, skinny blonde lad who is entertaining the gaggle of female staff members. ‘That’s Craig. He’s the main reason we have dry office parties now. Last Christmas we had the bash at a hotel in town. The bosses went all-out. It was amazing.’

  Well, the party was amazing, but it wasn’t amazing for me. Stephanie was supposed to be away with the kids, staying with family, so Will and I had a room booked at the hotel. I spent so much money on my outfit, I had my hair done and I spent ages getting ready. Then I turned up at the party and there was Stephanie on Will’s arm. She’d spent even more money on her outfit and looked like she’d spent even longer getting ready. She looked perfect. She knew that Will was staying at the hotel so, to keep up appearances as always, she stayed with him. Will and I had a big row that night. It’s the closest we’ve ever come to ending things.

  ‘So what did Craig do?’ the new guy asks, snapping me from my thoughts.

  ‘He thought he’d try and steal a bottle of champagne from the bar, reached over and somehow managed to catch his arm on something sharp. I’ve never seen a cut like it – or so much blood! It was all you could smell; it filled the air. He had to be rushed to hospital for an operation!’

  The new guy shakes his head with despair, and that’s just the tip of the iceberg of Cray-Craig’s (that’s what I call him in my head) behaviour.

  ‘Man, I love a drop of champers, but that’s insane.’

  ‘It’s completely insane,’ I agree. ‘Especially considering the fact it was a free bar.’

  The new guy laughs. ‘So who else do I have to blame for enduring this sober?’

  I glance around the room and spot a red-headed fifty-something lady wearing a navy blue twinset. She’s delicately sipping from her plastic cup, occasionally pinching crisps from the plate of the person next to her as she chats away.

  ‘That’s Cindy. See how prim and proper she seems? She turned up to a party with her husband – such a nice man! Very small and bald though, makes him look a bit like a turtle because he wears his suits too big for some reason. Anyway, Cindy had a bit too much to drink, made her way to the dance floor and started trying to grind on the men – then the women. Poor hubby just stood at the side of the room, watching, without a hint of any kind of emotion.’

  ‘That dirty devil.’ New guy laughs. ‘Who’s that twat?’

  I look over in the direction he’s pointing and spot Karl. He’s simultaneously picking his nose and drooling over Charlie as she eats her sausage roll.

  ‘That’s Karl. He’s from Liverpool. He’s one of the drivers, and an office party repeat offender. He’s actually the reason there’s now a “three strikes, you’re out” behavioural policy.’

  ‘This I need to hear. Shall we sit down?’ new guy asks. ‘I’ll grab us a couple of lemonades.’

  I smile and nod.

  I take a seat at one of the canteen booths and shortly after the new guy joins me. He doesn’t take a seat opposite me like I expected him to, he sits next to me and scooches up close so we can continue our conversation without anyone hearing.

  ‘Do you know what this is?’ he asks, flashing me his key ring.

  ‘Of course,’ I reply, almost offended. ‘Just because I didn’t know what the Ocu- Ocul-’

  ‘Oculus,’ he interrupts me, putting me out of my misery. ‘It’s virtual reality gaming – even I’m not nerdy enough for that, don’t sweat it.’

  ‘Oh. Well, I know what that is – it’s a flash drive.’

  New guy wiggles his eyebrows before popping the top off it and pouring its crystal-clear contents out into our drinks, half in each lemonade.

  ‘What is that?’ I squeak.

  ‘Vodka,’ he says coolly. ‘For emergencies.’

  ‘What kind of emergency requires vodka?’

  ‘Dull parties.’ He laughs. ‘Now tell me about Karl and his previous.’

  I’m not much of a big drinker these days, but I sip my drink gratefully.

  ‘His first strike was not long after I started working for the company and the party was at Wi- Mr Starr’s massive house,’ I begin, correcting myself as I go along. ‘It was a Friday night and Karl got so wasted he had to go and throw up in one of the bathrooms. Anyway, he must have passed out. The party ended, everyone went home…’

  ‘But not Karl?’ new guy guesses.

  ‘Not Karl. Karl woke up on the floor the next morning and was too scared to leave. As the story goes he had planned to try and sneak out, but the opportunity never arose. He stayed in the bathroom until Saturday evening when the cleaner found him – and the toilet he’d blocked with his vomit.’

  ‘Nice.’ New guy nods, almost impressed by Karl’s antics. ‘What was his second strike?’

  ‘That took place in this very room last Halloween – we had a costume party,’ I explain, widening my eyes, pre-empting his disbelief.

  ‘This lot in fancy dress?’ He laughs. ‘It’s mostly middle-aged women and old truckers.’

  ‘Yes, a superhero costume party,’ I continue, and he finds this even funnie
r.

  ‘Who were you?’ he asks, quick as a flash.

  ‘I was – of course – Wonder Woman,’ I tell him, modestly.

  ‘This I need to see pictures of!’ New guy looks visibly surprised as he says this. ‘I’ve never seen you in anything but your office Stepford get-up. I bet you were a hit with the fellas.’

  I flash the new guy an unimpressed side glance.

  The truth is that my outfit was actually a big hit with the drivers, who were also only used to seeing me in my office attire – although back then it wasn’t quite as Stepford as it is now. With my big, brunette curled wig, my boobs pushed up underneath my chin and the red thigh-high boots I had to visit a sex shop specifically just to find, I actually felt like I looked pretty cool. Will didn’t agree, and he took me to one side to tell me as much. He thought that it was far too revealing, and not really me. I remember the exact words he used: ‘not right for my body’. I glanced over at Stephanie in her red-belted mac and her red fedora, that he was obviously fine for her to leave the house in. I had accidentally whipped Will with my lasso of truth, and that’s when I realised he didn’t want a thigh-flashing Wonder Woman with her cleavage on show, he wanted Carmen Sandiego, in her figure-hiding clothes and with her educational agenda. That’s when I realised I needed a Wonder Woman makeover circa 1950s, when they took away her whip to get rid of any bondage overtones, and made her more traditional and Christian. I’d already been watching my mouth and behaviour, but that’s when I stated dressing more appropriately.

  ‘Karl came dressed as Mr Incredible and at some point in the evening, the Flash decided to tell him a superhero-themed joke.’

  ‘Dare I ask what the joke was?’

  ‘I believe it was something along the lines of: “What’s the difference between Batman and a Scouser?”’

  New guy widens his eyes.

  ‘I know the one.’

  ‘Well Karl didn’t, and when he heard the punchline…he got a bit punchy himself. He launched at The Flash, the two of them crashed through the buffet table and they had to be pulled apart. If you look over at the table, you can see where the leg was repaired. The best part of the tale is that no one actually knows who The Flash was. So not only did he not get into trouble, but Karl doesn’t feel like he properly avenged Liverpool. He swears he’ll find out who it was, one day.’

  As I realise how quickly I’m getting through my drink, I puff air out of my cheeks and I examine my glass.

  ‘Gosh, what is this?’ I ask. ‘It’s…powerful.’

  ‘Just a little something I picked up while travelling Europe. Balkan vodka – there are thirteen health warnings on the bottle,’ he announces proudly. ‘I was in Serbia and there was this rugby team from Yorkshire on a stag party. One of them thought he could knock back neat shots. You should’ve seen the paramedics trying to get him onto the stretcher. You don’t drive, right? Probably don’t drive today.’

  ‘I don’t drive,’ I assure him. ‘Do you?’

  ‘Yes, but not today, babe.’ He laughs. ‘Maybe not tomorrow if you come back to mine after work and have a drink with me.’

  We are interrupted by a loud, exaggerated cough. For a moment, Will just hovers near our table, staring at us, before walking over to grab a glass of orange juice and taking his position in the centre of the room to make a speech.

  ‘Think the boss thinks we’re up to no good,’ the new guy whispers to me, giving me a pally nudge that Will definitely notices. As he gives his speech, he can’t take his eyes off us.

  ‘We’re a family here at Starr Haul, and it’s always sad to say goodbye to a much-loved member of the team. But I, for one, am proud of Charlie for leaving to open her own café,’ Will says, trying to direct his words at Charlie, but his eyes keep darting back to me and the new guy. ‘If Charlie ever needs any support, I’m sure you’ll all join me in extending a hand.’

  ‘I know what she needs supporting,’ new guy jokes to me, as he raises his hand.

  ‘Put your hand down,’ I snap.

  ‘But if you raise your hand for the easy ones, you don’t get asked the hard questions,’ he reasons. He’s clearly underestimated the strength of his vodka. I’m definitely feeling tipsy, and new guy is definitely acting it.

  I reach up and take his hand, slowly bringing it back down to the table. Will, who seems to have one eye constantly on us, notices this too.

  ‘Charlie truly was, er, the bread and butter of the…the canteen,’ Will babbles, the distraction clearly ruining his perfectly planned speech. ‘Basically, we’ll miss you,’ he adds, clumsily, wrapping things up. ‘To Charlie.’

  We all raise our glasses.

  ‘So, drink, after work?’ new guy starts again once we all go back to chatting amongst ourselves.

  ‘I’m just…I’m not really interested,’ I tell him, unsure how best to get out of this one, but panicking as I spot Will approaching us. If I tell him I have a boyfriend he might start asking me questions – questions that I won’t be able to answer.

  ‘You’re clearly interested in drinking – you just made short work of eighty-eight per cent vodka.’ He laughs, and I widen my eyes at the alcohol content. No wonder I’m feeling it.

  ‘I’m not actually much of a drinker,’ I tell him.

  ‘So we’ll drink tea and play video games. Your nerd knowledge clearly needs a bit of expanding.’

  With Will nearly at our table, I need to do something to defuse the situation.

  ‘Is it so hard to believe not every single girl finds you attractive?’ I ask harshly.

  ‘Shit, Candy…’ new guy laughs ‘…it’s an invitation to play few games of Battlefield not a blow job.’

  And, of course, this is the part of the conversation that Will catches. He stares at us, like maybe he’s expecting an explanation but neither of us offer one up.

  ‘Well, this is about as awkward as a Tinder date.’ New guy laughs again.

  ‘Sorry to drag you away from the party, Candice, but I’ve got something urgent I need you to take care of.’

  The new guy raises his eyebrows but takes the hint. He scribbles something down on a piece of paper and hands me it.

  ‘If you change your mind,’ he says before wandering off.

  Will stares at me for a second, so I theatrically screw the new guy’s number into a ball, making it clear I have no intention of using it. Will gestures with a nod of his head for me to follow him, before we make our way to his office in silence.

  Caroline is sitting by her desk, manning the phone.

  ‘You get off to the party,’ Will tells her. ‘Candice will answer the phone for a while.’

  ‘Thank you, Mr Starr,’ she says with a smile, before subtly narrowing her eyes at me.

  As soon as she has gone we step inside Will’s office. He closes the door behind him, unbuttons his suit jacket and takes a seat behind his desk. I hover in front of him like a naughty child hauled before the head teacher.

  ‘You know how difficult it was to organise this trip, don’t you?’ Will asks. ‘Squaring it with all the appropriate people, booking hotels, getting the car ready for the journey, making it seem like it was absolutely vital that someone stop by each branch of the firm to make sure that everyone was happy this week, and that that person be me specifically?’

  ‘Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes,’ I reply, giving him an answer to each of his questions. I am never usually so cheeky with Will, and my behaviour doesn’t go unnoticed. That’ll be the vodka.

  ‘So you know that I am doing all of this because I don’t want to lose you.’

  I nod my head.

  ‘So why do I feel like I need to worry about you and the new lad in IT?’ he asks. ‘You’re always together, laughing and joking – having inappropriate conversations.’

  ‘That’s all him. And no, I don’t want you to fire him,’ I say before Will has a chance to suggest it. ‘He’s just being friendly.’

  ‘Candice, take it from a man – he is interested in you. All you w
ould need to do is say the word and he’d be all over you. Do you know how that makes me feel?’

  ‘But I’m only interested in you,’ I tell him as I walk around his desk and take a seat on his lap. ‘We were just having a chat and a drink at the party, that’s all.’

  I lean forward and give Will a reassuring kiss while we have a moment alone together. It’s a slow, sexy kiss. The kind that would usually lead to other things, except…

  ‘You’ve been drinking,’ Will says accusingly. ‘The two of you have been getting drunk at work. I could fire you both for this.’

  ‘It was one tiny, little drink,’ I tell him, suddenly aware of how tipsy I sound, but equally aware of the fact that, the harder I try to disguise it, the more tipsy I seem. ‘To toast Carly leaving.’

  ‘You mean Charlie?’ he asks angrily.

  Isn’t that what I said?

  I place my hands on either side of Will’s face and look him in the eye.

  ‘Look, it was daft. I’m sorry. But nothing is going on between the new guy and me – I don’t even want to be his friend. You know I’m head-over-heels in love with you.’

  Will softens a little. ‘It’s just…I worry. You know why I worry.’

  ‘I know why you worry,’ I tell him. ‘But it’s fine. This trip means everything to me – to us. This is our chance to see how we function as a proper couple, to figure out our future.’

  Will nods thoughtfully. ‘Good.’ He pinches my cheek. ‘OK, we’ll figure all this out while we’re away.’

  ‘What’s the plan for Friday then?’ I ask.

  ‘Well, we’ll need to set off nice and early. Caroline has made all the arrangements – apart from the hotels, obviously. I sorted that so she wouldn’t pick up on the fact we’re sharing a room. I’ll swing by your place, pick up your lovely self and your luggage and get straight off for the ferry to The Isle of Man, and a week of bliss.’

  ‘I can’t wait,’ I tell him honestly.

  ‘Can you do me a favour, please?’ he asks.

  ‘Anything,’ I reply.

  ‘I know we’re going to figure everything out while we’re away but, in the meantime, can you keep clear of the IT department?’ he asks. He must be really worried, to be trying to keep me separate from the new guy.