The Woman Who Knew Everything

by Debbie Viggiano

  Cougar Kate gave another affected laugh. ‘I wish I had your wit, Amber.’

  ‘I wish I could get on with my work,’ Amber grumbled, one hand hovering over the telephone. She really did need to make some calls, although her fingers itched to curl around the handset and shove it into Cougar Kate’s arrogant mouth. That would shut the woman up for a bit.

  ‘Madam Rosa indicated my future hubby has already come into my life. He just needs to, er,’ Cougar Kate studied her scarlet-painted nails for a moment, ‘extricate himself from his current situation.’

  ‘No surprises there, then,’ said Amber, under her breath.

  ‘What was that?’

  ‘Nothing.’

  ‘Anyway, I wanted to let you all know that I won’t be Miss Colgan for much longer. Madam Rosa did rather spoil it by adding this man wasn’t the right one for me, but I’m not going to take any notice. So, what do you think? Soon I will be getting married. Amazing, eh?’

  ‘Thrilling,’ said Amber, picking up the phone.

  At that moment Steve came out of his office. ‘Have you made those calls yet, Amber?’

  ‘I’m trying,’ said Amber, jerking her head at Cougar Kate.

  ‘Ah, Katherine,’ said Steve. Was it Amber’s imagination or had the temperature suddenly dropped by several degrees?

  ‘Hello, Stevie,’ said Cougar Kate, fluttering her eyelashes in a coquettish manner. ‘Sorry to hold Amber up. I’m just leaving.’ Steve gave a cursory nod and disappeared back into his office. ‘Phwoar, isn’t he divine! I wouldn’t say no to him taking me to task over his filing cabinet.’

  ‘You’d be wasting your time if you did,’ said Amber.

  ‘You shouldn’t say things like that,’ said Cougar Kate, smirking. ‘I love a challenge. I think I might have one last pre-wedding fling. It will involve me, Mr Hood, and that very snazzy tie he’s wearing. Catch my drift?’

  ‘Yes, but you’re not catching mine,’ said Amber. Cougar Kate obviously didn’t realise Steve was gay, but it wasn’t Amber’s place to gossip and spill secrets about her boss.

  ‘Well I can see you’re busy.’ Cougar Kate stood up, smoothing down her tailored skirt. It had a huge split up one side, revealing plenty of leg as she sashayed off. ‘Catch you later, girlies,’ she trilled. She blew them all a kiss, Marilyn Monroe style, and then took her leave.

  ‘That woman is the pits,’ muttered Chrissie.

  ‘Good heavens,’ said Amber, pretending to fall off her chair in shock. ‘Welcome back to Planet Earth, Chrissie. We’ve missed you.’

  ‘Listen, girls,’ said Dee, ‘we really do need to crack on. How about we go to the café around the corner for lunch? We can then properly discuss our respective Sunday sagas – away from flapping ears – and decide upon our next plan of action.’

  Chrissie and Amber nodded in agreement. Feeling slightly happier, they finally settled down to work. Having a plan gave them something to focus on, even if they didn’t yet know what it would be.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Never did a lunch hour go by so swiftly. Dee, Chrissie and Amber sat at a table in the far corner of Gravesend’s answer to all-day-breakfast heaven, an upmarket greasy spoon establishment by the name of “Come Fry With Me”.

  ‘Heaven only knows what this place is doing to our cholesterol levels,’ said Amber, devouring fatty bacon and fried egg running in oil.

  ‘Listen,’ said Dee, ‘never mind what the cholesterol is doing to our hearts, let’s concentrate on what our boyfriends are doing to them instead. Do you know, I swear I can feel mine physically hurting?’ She put a hand over her left boob and massaged gently.

  ‘I guess that’s why it’s called heartache,’ said Chrissie, ‘and stop doing that, Dee. It looks like you’re feeling yourself up. There’s a suit two tables to the left leering at you.’

  ‘I should be so flattered,’ muttered Dee, but she dropped her hand and picked up her knife and fork again. ‘I’m certainly not getting any attention in that department from Josh,’ she whispered. Her mouth drooped. Her meal was all too reminiscent of the last one she’d shared with her boyfriend. ‘I might as well be honest with you, girls. After Josh told me I was boring and unimaginative in bed, yesterday I pulled out all the stops for him.’

  ‘This sounds horribly familiar,’ said Amber, ‘but I’ll tell you my story in a minute. You go first, Dee.’

  ‘Right. Well yesterday morning, I cooked Josh the biggest fry-up you can imagine. The subject of sex came up – or rather the lack of it – so I seized the opportunity and stripped off in the kitchen.’

  ‘Blimey,’ said Chrissie. ‘Is this leading to sex food by any chance?’

  ‘Yes,’ Dee nodded. ‘There I was, literally offering myself on his breakfast plate, and he told me he no longer fancied me.’

  ‘Maybe,’ Chrissie suggested, ‘sex food isn’t Josh’s speciality?’

  ‘Huh. In the old days, he’d have been ecstatic to see me wearing nothing but two fried eggs and a big smile. ’

  At the nearby table the suit dropped his newspaper, picked it up, dropped it again, and then firmly shook it out. It was obvious he wasn’t reading one word.

  ‘Perhaps you need to up your game?’ suggested Chrissie. ‘Swap the fried eggs for champagne, and pour it into your navel.’

  ‘Sadly, I don’t think it would make any difference,’ said Dee. ‘He’s gone off me. Plain and simple. I no longer dong his gong.’

  ‘The prat,’ said Chrissie, stabbing at a mushroom with her fork.

  Amber sighed. ‘I can’t remember the last time Matthew and I put our bed springs through a good workout. On Saturday night, after you dropped me home, I attempted lap dancing in an effort to get things going.’

  ‘And did it?’ asked Dee.

  ‘Yeah. It got him going into the spare room. That’s how unattractive I am to him.’

  ‘I thought you said you were very poorly on Saturday night?’ asked Chrissie.

  ‘I was. But this was before I was unwell. Matthew makes me feel as sexually attractive as an old dog with halitosis. I mean, what man stays late at the office night after night, and works weekends without a sniff of paid overtime? When I challenged him, he said he was after promotion and doing it for us.’

  ‘Maybe he is,’ said Chrissie.

  ‘Rubbish,’ Amber scoffed. ‘There’s no affection from Matthew. No sweet words. Zilch. I might as well be a friendly housekeeper who picks up after him, puts his meals on the table and, if I’m very lucky, have him say the occasional thank you. Anyway, he’s currently sleeping in the spare room and not even talking to me. In fact, I’m starting to wonder if Madam Rosa is right.’

  ‘Whaaat?’ said Dee. ‘You mean–’

  ‘Yes, that’s exactly what I mean,’ said Amber, suddenly watery-eyed. ‘He must be seeing another woman. Given that he can’t stay away from his office, maybe she works with him. If I find out who she is,’ said Amber, viciously attacking a sausage, ‘she’ll be brown bread.’

  ‘And what about you, Chrissie?’ asked Dee. ‘How’s your love life?’

  Chrissie grimaced. ‘Non-existent, unless you count being groped by one of Andrew’s mates.’

  ‘No!’ said Amber and Dee together. Both women were aghast.

  ‘When I told Andrew, he called me a liar and trouble maker.’

  ‘You have to be kidding?’ said Amber, outraged.

  What a jerk!’ said Dee.

  ‘Even worse, Andrew has got in with the wrong crowd on the estate.’ Chrissie hesitated, suddenly unsure exactly how much to tell her friends. She felt so ashamed. Shreds of misguided loyalty to Andrew held her back from saying he was supplying drugs. She rather suspected the girls would encourage her to talk to the police, but if she did that she’d have Big Mick paying a visit.

  ‘You can tell us,’ Amber cajoled.

  Chrissie dithered. ‘Well,’ she said, picking her words carefully, ‘Andrew has played some card games. Obviously I don’t mean Snap. He owes a lot of money.�
��

  ‘How much?’ asked Dee.

  ‘Two grand.’

  Amber puffed out her cheeks. ‘It seems to me, ladies, that we’re on a hiding to nothing with our men.’

  ‘But I still love Josh,’ said Dee quietly.

  ‘I love Matthew,’ said Amber miserably.

  ‘I love the Andrew I met,’ said Chrissie, ‘not the Andrew that’s sharing my home. I don’t recognise him. But if the old Andrew wound his arms around my waist and begged forgiveness for being an idiot, I’d be putty in his hands.’

  ‘So what’s our plan of action, girls?’ asked Dee.

  ‘Isn’t it obvious?’ asked Amber. She put down her knife and fork and rummaged in her handbag. A second later she placed a business card on the table. There were two words printed in neat italics. Madam Rosa. Underneath was a telephone number.

  Dee made a harrumphing noise. ‘She sounds like a chuffing brothel owner.’

  Amber looked from Dee to Chrissie, her expression serious. ‘Do either of you believe our men might be having affairs?’

  Dee bit her lip. ‘Maybe.’

  Chrissie shook her head. ‘No. I think Andrew’s too enthralled with his mates to be interested in another woman. That said, he’s not bothered about me sticking around. He really doesn’t give a hoot.’

  ‘Are we all in agreement we want to fight to keep our men?’ asked Amber.

  Dee nodded, and Chrissie let out a laboured sigh. ‘I want my old Andrew back. The sweet, caring Andrew.’

  ‘In which case,’ Amber foraged in her handbag again, this time producing her mobile phone, ‘are we also in agreement we should see Madam Rosa for relationship guidance?’

  ‘I still think her readings at Cougar Kate’s house were marketing ploys,’ said Dee, tutting.

  ‘Well there’s only one way to find out,’ said Chrissie. ‘I think Amber should ring the telephone number on that business card.’

  ‘Right,’ said Amber decisively. ‘Let’s do this.’

  Chapter Nineteen

  Madam Rosa picked up on the second ring.

  ‘Hello?’

  ‘Er, yes, hello,’ said Amber, trying to be business-like but nerves got the better of her. She sounded like she’d swallowed six frogs that were now holding a tea dance in her throat. ‘I’m ringing to make an appointment…ahem…for…ahem… sorry…,’ she moved her mouth away from the mobile and coughed several times in a bid to speak without croaking, ‘I want a reading.’ She switched the phone to loudspeaker so her friends could hear the conversation.

  ‘Okay. I can’t do anything until Saturday afternoon.’

  Amber gave Chrissie and Dee an enquiring look. They nodded their agreement. ‘We’ll take it. There are three of us, by the way.’

  ‘That’s fine.’

  I’ll bet it is, thought Amber sourly. That’s one-hundred-and-thirty-five quid, cash in hand, for spouting goodness knows what.

  There was the sound of pages turning. Presumably Madam Rosa was consulting a diary. ‘I can do, let me see, two o’clock onwards. How does that suit?’

  Chrissie and Dee nodded again.

  ‘Perfect.’

  ‘Let me give you my address.’

  Amber took down the details. Madam Rosa lived in Vigo, a pretty village that ran alongside Trosley Country Park. Amber immediately thought of her boss. Steve had told her how he sometimes liked to visit the same park for a hike with “his mate”. What a small world. After an exchange of pleasantries, Amber rang off.

  ‘Well, that wasn’t so awful.’

  Dee blew out her cheeks. ‘I guess not. All we have to do now is get through the rest of the week until Saturday rolls around. Shall we meet at yours, Amber, as you’re the closest to Vigo? Then we can all go together.’

  ‘Sure,’ Amber replied. ‘Actually, why don’t we make a night of it? Let’s go for a curry afterwards. Matthew isn’t kissing me at the moment, so I might as well go berserk with the garlic. In fact, if the two of you want to bring a sleeping bag, why don’t you take a sofa each and crash out at mine? We can pop the corks on some Prosecco and get horribly drunk.’

  ‘I’d like that,’ said Dee. ‘Not the drunk bit,’ she added hastily, ‘I meant the bit about crashing at yours. It will give me and Josh some space. I’m terrified he’s going to suggest we split up.’

  ‘Why?’ asked Chrissie.

  ‘Because if he doesn’t fancy me anymore, it stands to reason he won’t want to keep sharing my bed – or even my life. I reckon it’s only a matter of time before he demands we sell the flat and go our separate ways.’ Her lip trembled, and for a moment Dee thought she might cry.

  ‘Don’t upset yourself. Everything will work out,’ said Amber gently, before rolling her eyes. ‘Hark at me dishing out assurances when my own boyfriend is parked in the spare room.’

  ‘Won’t Matthew mind us being there?’ asked Chrissie.

  ‘I don’t give a toss if he does,’ said Amber defiantly. ‘It’s my house. I can invite into it who I like.’

  ‘Count me in,’ said Chrissie. The thought of getting out of Saturday night with Andrew’s mates in the maisonette, and not making chip butties or unblocking loos was giving Chrissie a holiday feeling.

  ‘Right,’ said Amber, dropping her mobile phone back into her handbag and gathering all her bits together. ‘We’d better head back to the office.’

  The girls had barely plonked their bottoms down on their typing chairs when Steve Hood summoned Amber.

  ‘Can I have a quiet word, please?’

  ‘You can have several noisy ones if you like,’ she quipped. She picked up her notebook.

  ‘You won’t need that.’

  ‘Oh, okay.’ Amber discarded the pad and walked into Steve’s office. ‘What’s up?’

  Steve shut the office door and sat down opposite her. ‘Is everything all right?’

  ‘Yes, why?’

  ‘Because this morning you looked like Morticia Addams, and Chrissie and Dee were doing a fair impression of Uncle Fester and Lurch. Meanwhile, I’ve had a chance to go through the lease you worked on earlier. There are quite a few mistakes.’

  ‘Really?’ said Amber in surprise.

  ‘Yes. A landlord is usually called a “lessor”. Not a “tosser”.’

  ‘What?’ Amber could feel herself blushing furiously. She rarely made mistakes, and couldn’t believe her mind had wandered enough to write such a word.

  ‘And the letter to Mister Whitehead. Well, see for yourself.’ Steve pushed the A4 piece of paper across the desk. She glanced at it, and her pink blush turned sunset red.

  ‘Dear Mister Dickhead? I didn’t type that,’ she protested.

  ‘And the address is wrong on this second piece of correspondence. Mister Brown lives at Pennis Close, in Fawkham. Not Penis Close in Fuckem.’

  Amber’s mouth dropped open. ‘Someone has doctored my typing,’ she gasped. But even as she said it, she knew it sounded ridiculous.

  ‘So I’ll ask again. Is everything all right?’

  ‘Yes. No. Yes. I mean–’ Amber’s mind darted about like a trapped butterfly as she struggled to answer the question. She didn’t want to tell her boss that her personal life had disintegrated into a mess, or that she was planning on checking in with a fortune teller for guidance. Steve Hood would think his secretary had completely lost the plot.

  ‘Is it personal?’

  ‘No, of course not,’ Amber protested. ‘I really like you. You’re a great boss.’

  Steve gave the smallest of smiles. ‘I meant are you having personal problems at home.’

  ‘I…I…I,’ Amber hung her head, studying her hands folded in her lap. Perhaps if she sat here all afternoon stuttering one word, Steve Hood would simply get bored and dismiss her with a caution to take more care over her work.

  ‘So that’s a yes,’ said Steve. ‘Look,’ he said, gently, ‘we’ve all been there, Amber. There’s not one person on this planet that hasn’t, at some point, had their life tipped upside down l
ike a wheelie bin and suffered the contents spilling everywhere.’

  Amber nodded miserably. ‘Yeah. Good description.’ Her eyes were suddenly very shiny. ‘It’s kind of you to be sympathetic. I appreciate how hard it must have been for you. At least I don’t have to spring any surprises about a “mate” on my family and friends.’

  Steve arched an eyebrow. ‘Are you sure? So, there are no complications in that department?’

  Amber’s brow furrowed. That was a strange comment to make. ‘I’m definitely heterosexual.’

  Steve’s mouth twitched. ‘That’s…good to know. Now then,’ he pushed the lease, correspondence and files towards her, ‘if you could correct this little lot that would be smashing.’

  ‘Yes,’ Amber said in a small voice. She stood up. ‘I’m very sorry.’

  ‘Don’t be,’ Steve smiled, ‘but maybe for now don’t go signing anything off in my absence, eh? I don’t want Mr Whitehead ringing me up having an apoplectic fit. He’s not the easiest of clients.’

  ‘Okay.’ Amber gathered everything into her arms and made for the door.

  ‘And remember,’ Steve called after her, ‘if you need an ear, I’m here.’

  Amber gave her boss a grateful smile, and then used the heel of her shoe to flip the door shut after her. Not for the first time she thought what a shame it was that Steve was gay. He’d make a smashing boyfriend.

  ***

  When Amber arrived home that evening it was once again to a cold, dark house with a distinct absence of nice cooking smells. No sign of Matthew. No doubt he was working late again. She set about getting a dinner for herself out of the freezer. A meal for one. Stuff Matthew. If he couldn’t be bothered to talk to her, why should she go to the trouble of cooking for him?

  Matthew turned up as Amber was easing herself into the bath tub. From the open bathroom door, Amber watched him walk towards the spare bedroom. He totally ignored her.

  ‘Thought you might like to know,’ she called after him, ‘that I’m out again this Saturday.’ She saw Matthew pause as he listened to her, ‘and Chrissie and Dee will be staying the night here.’ Matthew’s back stiffened at this piece of news, but he didn’t deign to respond. Instead he disappeared into the spare room. From her vantage point in the bath tub, Amber watched the door close after him. She shivered, which was nothing to do with the cooling bath water.