by Mandy Baggot
‘“Oh is it?” Something’s happened hasn’t it? Something happened last night with Darren! Tell me!’ Cleo exclaimed, ruffling up Samantha’s duvet.
Samantha just carried on smiling, reliving in her mind what had happened between her and Jimmy. She had had her hands in the gorgeous hair, on the firm chest, and she had felt his lips on hers.
‘Sam! You’re scaring me! What happened?!’ Cleo said almost screaming.
‘We kissed!’ Samantha admitted proudly, still wearing a mile wide smile.
Cleo did scream this time and grabbed hold of Samantha, embracing her in a bear hug and breathing more Worcester sauce fumes in her face.
‘Oh tell all! When? Where?’ Cleo interrogated.
‘It was really romantic. I’d started to hyperventilate because I was worried about the council meeting and losing the Civic Hall and he just grabbed me and kissed me - right on row AA,’ Samantha spoke, starry eyed.
‘In the Civic Hall, on row AA. I think I need to meet this Darren sooner rather than later if that’s his idea of romance,’ Cleo said with a tut.
‘And he told me how he felt. He told me he really liked me,’ Samantha stated, feeling gleeful.
‘Liked you. Hmm, not exactly a fast mover is he? So did you - you know - go back to his place?’ Cleo wanted to know, winking at her sister.
‘No! No, of course not! We only just kissed. I mean I couldn’t do that yet, I…’ Samantha started immediately feeling uncomfortable.
OK, Jimmy was the first guy she had ever really mentally undressed, but that didn’t mean she was actually ready to undress him. Although, she had seen most of his body because he did tend to wear his trousers quite low on his hips. And when he had his top off there wasn’t much left to the imagination. Well, the important procreation part obviously, but she hadn’t thought about that. Well, only so far as thinking she hoped it wasn’t pierced.
‘Now I don’t want you to take this the wrong way, but losing your virginity is kind of sweet and resemblant of a fairytale when you’re sixteen - but at your age it’s just going to be a case of going with the flow and getting it over and done with,’ Cleo told her.
‘Why?’ Samantha queried.
‘Well, I think it’s highly commendable and all that, not that I pretend to understand it, but I don’t know any man who would relish the prospect of a virgin - not one of your age anyway. I think you should just do it ASAP and whatever you do, don’t tell him, or he’ll run for the hills,’ Cleo advised.
Samantha let out a laugh, drew back the duvet cover and got out of bed.
‘What’s funny?’ Cleo wanted to know.
‘You are Cleo. Who did you lose your virginity to? Michael Rudman wasn’t it? Michael “Spotty” Rudman who you only liked because his dad was rich and he did motocross. In fact, it was lucky he did a sport that needed a helmet because there were more craters on his face than on the motocross track. And where did he take you to lose your virginity? The cricket pavilion. The same cricket pavilion that everyone we knew from school had thrown up on or urinated against. You were sixteen and you did it behind a dirty, cricket pavilion on a pile of crash mats the playgroup used for gymnastics. How romantic - how fairytale,’ Samantha spoke as she got her Civic Hall uniform out of the cupboard.
‘OK, Michael Rudman was a mistake but what I’m trying to say is…’ Cleo began her cheeks red with embarrassment.
‘I know you’re doing the elder sister routine and trying to advise and protect me but I’m fine and I can make my own decisions - even about sex,’ Samantha assured her.
‘Argh! Stop it! You know I hate it when you say that word,’ Cleo exclaimed, clamping her hands over her ears.
‘Thanks for waking me though, hectic day ahead. You’ll have to make your own lunch, oh and don’t forget to clean your teeth again, unless you want Jeremy tasting your breakfast,’ Samantha spoke as she headed out of her bedroom towards the shower.
Cleo pulled a face at her sister but ran her tongue across her teeth to see if she was right.
By the time Samantha arrived at the Civic Hall the speech was coming along. She had written some after her shower, went through things mentally on her walk to work and now she was furiously typing on the computer, trying to compile it all. Her head was strangely focussed and clear, she was smiling and happy and earlier she had made time to make coffee for Felicity and Jane. It had shocked them because she hated coffee herself and hated using the temperamental machine. She hadn’t even got annoyed with it when it started to make stupid noises and spat at her.
By 10.00am she couldn’t wait any longer to share the results of her hard efforts on the speech with Jimmy. She knew they had had early rehearsals that morning but she hoped he would be in his dressing room by now. She practically skipped up the corridor, excited about seeing him. She reached the door of his room, knocked and waited. There was no reply. Looking at her watch and, certain he wouldn’t be long, she opened the door, intending to wait for him.
Being the principal male skater Jimmy had his own dressing room, as did Dana. The other skaters had to share the other five rooms designated for performers. Samantha smiled as she stepped in and noticed one of Jimmy’s t-shirts draped over the arm of the sofa. She was just about to pick it up and put it to her nose to smell the scent of him when she was aware of someone else in the room.
‘Goodness, sorry! I didn’t think anyone was in here,’ Samantha exclaimed as she was greeted by the sight of Dana stood by the dressing table.
The Canadian woman was dressed in full Evita costume, still wearing her skates. Her red hair was tied back from her face and her complexion was flawless. Samantha suspected this was due more to Maybelline than it was to youthful skin.
‘No need to apologise honey, I was just leaving. Although, while you’re here, I did notice my room isn’t as clean as it has been. Could you organise a more thorough going over and perhaps have a word with the offending member of staff,’ Dana spoke, putting a plastic bottle back down on the dressing table and moving towards Samantha and the exit.
‘Of course, I’ll speak to the cleaners,’ Samantha replied professionally.
‘Great, I wouldn’t want to have to make up with an inch of dust on my dresser,’ Dana retorted and she smiled her Hollywood smile at Samantha before leaving the room.
It was only a few seconds before the door opened again and Jimmy walked in. He was sweating and looked hot from the practice, but he smiled as soon as he saw Samantha.
‘Hey, I was just coming to see you,’ he announced.
‘Well, here I am,’ Samantha replied her heart already racing just at the sight of him.
‘No regrets?’
‘Regrets?’ Samantha queried.
‘You didn’t get home and think what a mistake you’d made kissing me?’
‘No, oh, did you think it was…’ Samantha started her heart jumping into her mouth.
‘No! Of course not! Don’t be crazy, come here.’
He kissed her tenderly and then he held her hands, smiling down at her.
‘I have no regrets whatsoever,’ Jimmy insisted.
‘Me neither,’ Samantha answered with a smile.
‘So, how’s your day been? Has Gobby visited yet?’ he asked her.
‘Not yet, but once he gets the whiff of macaroni cheese he’ll be here. Today’s been really, really good. Look, come and see this,’ Samantha encouraged and she let go of his hands and beckoned him over to the coffee table where she had placed her print out.
‘Is this what I think it is?’ Jimmy enquired hopefully.
‘It is. I’ve been working on it since last night really. I couldn’t sleep when I got in, so I wrote some then and, after that, there was no stopping me - ideas just kept coming,’ Samantha announced, handing him the pieces of paper.
‘This is really good. I like the tone, authoritative yet not pushy, stating the facts and not embellishing things. I like the comparisons. Sam, this is great,’ Jimmy told her as he speed read the scri
pt.
‘Really? I mean I’ve read it several times and I think it’s good but I wrote it. Do you honestly think it’s good? Good enough?’ Samantha enquired, looking to him for approval.
‘I think it’s awesome and why shouldn’t it be? You’ve worked so hard on this,’ Jimmy reminded her.
‘We’ve worked so hard on it, I couldn’t have done any of this without you,’ Samantha spoke sincerely and she nervously took hold of his hand.
‘You could have, I just pushed you in the right direction that’s all. That leads me into what happened in my morning,’ Jimmy remarked with a sigh and he sat down on the sofa.
‘What happened?’ Samantha asked, sitting down next to him.
‘More a case of who rather than what really. Dana ran off the ice again, screaming and shouting, claiming I hadn’t put her down properly after a lift. She ended up facing the wrong way and skating in the opposite direction to me. I mean this is simple stuff Sam. She’s a professional ice skater and she’s making these basic, basic errors. But, apparently only when she’s skating with me,’ Jimmy informed her.
‘So what happened?’ Samantha wanted to know.
‘She starts yelling at Nigel, he’s the show director, telling him I’m a liability and she can’t trust me and I make her look stupid. All this is going on while the whole ensemble are trying to practice one of the group dances. Everyone can hear her and I just wanted the ground to open up,’ Jimmy explained with a sigh.
‘But it isn’t your fault, it’s her. She keeps making the mistakes. She left a lift out of one of the dances the other night. I don’t think the audience noticed but I did. What did the director say?’ Samantha asked him.
‘He didn’t say much but I know he sides with her. He wasn’t sure about having me on the tour, and I don’t blame him. I was fresh out of rehab, this was my first skating gig since that and he was bound to have reservations - anyone would,’ Jimmy spoke.
‘But it’s not fair, to blame you for her mistakes just because you’re dealing with other things in your life. Your skating is perfect and I know how hard you work at that,’ Samantha said firmly.
‘Thanks Sam, I know. I’m not going to let it get to me. She has issues, lots of them, probably more than me - in a way I feel a little sorry for her,’ Jimmy told her.
There was a knock on the dressing room door.
‘Come in,’ Jimmy called.
It was Felicity who appeared at the door.
‘Oh good, you’re here. Mr Radcliffe from the council has come to see you,’ she announced, looking at Samantha.
‘What?!’ Samantha exclaimed, leaping up and clutching her print out of pages to her chest.
‘Hey, relax. Take a breath,’ Jimmy suggested, getting to his feet and taking one of her hands.
‘But what’s he doing here? I thought he was on sick leave. It must be serious - oh goodness,’ Samantha continued to panic, her mind working overtime.
‘Listen, you don’t want to keep him waiting. Go and see what he has to say - it might be good news,’ Jimmy encouraged, squeezing her hand.
‘You think so?’ Samantha asked looking at him like a frightened rabbit caught in the headlights.
‘Go and see. You won’t find out anything unless you go and speak to him,’ Jimmy urged her.
‘You’re right.’
‘I’m just going to chill here for a bit. Come and see me when he’s gone and tell me what he said,’ Jimmy said.
‘OK, I will. Where is he?’ Samantha questioned of Felicity as they headed for the door.
‘I put him in your office,’ Felicity replied.
Samantha nodded and followed Felicity out of the dressing room into the corridor.
‘What did he say when he arrived? Did he say anything? How does he look? Does he look like he would look if he had good news or bad?’ Samantha asked, firing the questions at her colleague.
‘I don’t know, he just looked normal really. Well a bit peaky, but then he has been ill,’ Felicity replied as they walked into the foyer.
‘Did he have paperwork with him? A briefcase? What’s he wearing? A suit?’ Samantha carried on questioning.
‘I don’t know, I didn’t really notice. Are you dating Jimmy Lloyd?’ Felicity asked her as they reached the box office.
‘No! No, don’t be so absurd! He’s a performer, it’s against regulations. I was just taking something he asked for, some water and some of those little plastic cups, to his dressing room. It has to be chilled and - with ice. You know how fussy these celebrities are,’ Samantha remarked, going red in the face.
‘He was holding your hand,’ Felicity remarked with a smirk.
‘We were exchanging the water and he, er, missed the jug. Do I look OK? Is my hair tidy?’ Samantha asked, smoothing her hair behind her ears and then straightening her Civic Hall jumper.
‘Fine and don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me. I dated one of the guitarists from the Eagles tribute band last summer,’ Felicity informed her.
‘I wish you hadn’t told me that,’ Samantha replied and she marched as confidently as she could toward her office.
When she opened the door Mr Radcliffe got up from his seat to greet her. He did look peaky. He was even greyer than she remembered him, if that was possible.
‘Hello Miss Smith,’ he greeted.
‘Mr Radcliffe, I’m so sorry I wasn’t here when you arrived, I was attending to some important business. Have you been offered a drink? May I get you one?’ Samantha babbled as she knocked a lever arch file onto the floor with her elbow as she attempted to get behind her desk.
‘No, no thank you, I’m fine. I will sit back down if that’s OK with you. It doesn’t do to stand for too long,’ Mr Radcliffe said and he gingerly lowered himself into the chair again.
‘Perhaps a glass of water? Or a fruit juice? It isn’t any trouble,’ Samantha insisted.
‘I’m fine, thank you. Why don’t you have a seat?’ Mr Radcliffe suggested to her.
There was something in the tone of his voice that made Samantha do as she was asked. Goodness, he sounded like the Grim Reaper with the worst of news, or perhaps that was just his way. He had sounded like that the first time he visited.
‘I thought that Mrs Randall was looking after things in your absence,’ Samantha said, picking up her pen and tapping it on the desk.
‘Yes, Mrs Randall has been dealing with the majority of my workload while I’ve been away, but I thought it only courteous to come here in person today to tell you the outcome of last night’s meeting,’ Mr Radcliffe continued.
Samantha felt her chest lurch and her insides turn over. She couldn’t have heard correctly. She thought he had said ‘the outcome of last night’s meeting’, but that couldn’t be what he said because the meeting was tonight.
‘I’m sorry, what did you just say? I think, I think, I must have misheard,’ Samantha spoke hurriedly, trying desperately to keep herself calm.
‘We had the meeting last night to decide the fates of the Civic Hall and the Presbook Centre and…’ Mr Radcliffe started.
‘No, no you couldn’t have, because the meeting’s tonight. I spoke to Mrs Randall, I even emailed her yesterday, the meeting is tonight. I’ve spent a week putting a proposal together for the meeting - tonight,’ Samantha stated, standing up and picking up her calendar, as if to clarify the date.
She would not have got the date wrong. She had never, ever, in her whole life got a date wrong. She bought family birthday cards at least six months in advance, every year. She even memorised the Queen’s birthdays and all the bank holidays.
‘Tonight is the regular council meeting but there was so much on the agenda a special meeting was convened last night to discuss this one issue,’ Mr Radcliffe informed her.
‘No, you can’t have, because you need to hear what I have to say. I have everything all worked out,’ Samantha spoke quickly, locating her files and papers for Mr Radcliffe to see.
‘Miss Smith, there’s no easy way
to say this. The council has decided to close the Civic Hall and put the building up for sale,’ Mr Radcliffe spoke somberly.
Samantha dropped the file on her desk as she stood frozen to the spot by the news he had just delivered. Her lip began to tremble and tears immediately pricked her eyes. This couldn’t be happening, this was all wrong. It had started as a preliminary investigation a short time ago and now he was saying everything had been decided?! In this short a time?! Without telling anyone?!
‘Miss Smith, this in no way reflects on you. Everyone agreed that you have been a first class employee and during your short time in charge Mrs Randall was very impressed with the improvements you implemented at no cost. I can only admire your enthusiasm and commitment,’ Mr Radcliffe continued.
‘But the decision was going to take weeks, months even - everyone said so. And we have a website now, with on-line booking and a new menu with those children’s meals that come with a plastic toy. I have lots of ideas to utilise all the rooms in the week. Jane’s friend, Sonya, she teaches yoga and the sports centre is getting expensive to hire and…’ Samantha started, pulling out some more paperwork.
‘It all came down to expansion really. The Presbook Centre has room to increase its capacity to rival the Civic Hall’s and to incorporate a leisure pool. One of the most well known supermarkets is sponsoring the improvements,’ Mr Radcliffe informed her.
‘We could get sponsorship, I’m sure of it. You have to think of the history here. The Beatles performed here and T Rex. We could get one of those blue plaques put on the wall, do tours of the building with a special lunch or something. I’ve managed to book Air Patrol to play here next summer. Do you know Air Patrol? They’ve had two platinum selling albums,’ Samantha gabbled as she tried to get as much information out of her mouth as quickly as possible.
‘I really appreciate your efforts and of course you and your staff will be fairly remunerated in accordance with your contracts,’ Mr Radcliffe told her.
