‘So, you’re blaming the customer now, are you?’
‘I’m pointing out that the last-minute changes meant I’ve been in here since seven this morning trying to make the alterations. I’m going as quickly as I can.’
‘Please hurry. Goodness me, it’s not as if we’re not paying through the nose for these wretched flowers.’
‘If you’re unhappy with the service I provide, or the price, I’m happy to cancel the order. Good luck finding another florist at such short notice, though.’
Sarah tried to brush off the panic creeping into her chest. Cynthia would kill her if she turned up later empty-handed. Sarah took a deep breath and channeled the assertiveness Cynthia had drummed into her. ‘You just get on with the job we’re paying you to do. I’ll be back at lunchtime to collect the flowers.’
Before the florist could respond, Sarah was out of the shop, the door slamming behind her. She found a quiet alley and leaned against a brick wall.In two, three, four, hold two, three, four, out two, three, four, hold two, three, four.
With the panic subsiding, Sarah walked the short distance to her office. There weren’t any pretty corners of the town, but the small industrial estate Sarah worked on was grim, even by the rest of the town’s standards. She reached the squat pebble dash office of the double-glazing company she worked with and checked her watch. Fifteen minutes late. Well, Sarah would not apologise for it. She worked at twice the rate of the other two receptionists, so deserved a late start once in a while.
Cathy and Miriam were already behind the reception desk when she walked in. They looked from the clock to Sarah, smirking at each other but saying nothing. Sarah put her bag away in the staff room, quickening her steps as she passed by her manager’s office. Once installed behind the reception desk, she put on her headset and switched on her computer.
‘I’m making a coffee, Cathy. Want one?’
‘Thanks, babe.’
Sarah didn’t bother looking up. Her once-held hope that work colleagues might become friends had long since vanished. She had tried at first, but with no knowledge of the latest fashion trends or celebrity gossip, Miriam and Cathy had long since given up on her and were open in their disdain for their prematurely middle-aged colleague. It was for the best. Sarah didn’t have time to waste on making friends.
Miriam re-appeared with two steaming cups. It was only as the smell of cheap coffee reached her that Sarah realised how tired she was. Between the panic and preparations for her parents’ party, it was weeks since she’d had a good night’s sleep. She’d drink a bucket of the crap staffroom coffee if she could.
The morning dragged, time passing in slow motion. At eleven, Sarah took off the headset that was pinching her scalp and headed to the staffroom. A few of the fitters were on elevenses and their faces betrayed their disappointment when they saw Sarah walk in. They loved to flirt with pretty Miriam. Even Cathy could charm them into submission, despite being in her fifties and looking like a wrinkled Barbie doll. Sarah knew they called herThe Fridgebehind her back, after she rebuffed a creepy fitter at a staff party.
Sarah made her way to the coffee machine. A man stood beside it, looking fazed. With the high staff turnover, there was always a new face in the staffroom. Sarah huffed as he pressed all the wrong buttons, her frustration growing as she counted down the minutes until her break would be over.
‘For goodness’ sake, it’s only a bloody coffee machine, not rocket science.’ She leaned past the man, pressing the correct button and sending coffee spurting into the cup below.
‘Thanks… I think. But I’m lactose intolerant. I was trying to get a black coffee.’
Sarah resisted the urge to punch the man and removed the cup. ‘I’ll have that one then,’ she said through gritted teeth, setting the machine off to make a disgusting black coffee for the man.
‘Cheers,’ he said when she handed it to him. ‘I’m Steve. Pleased to meet you.’
Suspicious of his outstretched hand, Sarah ignored it, marching past him and out of the room. As the door closed, she heard laughter and one fitter commenting that, ‘That frigid cow isn’t worth your breath.’
Desperate for air, Sarah carried her coffee outside. A fine layer of drizzle hung in the air, but she could feel herself dampening with sweat beneath her dress and knew she’d need to keep her jacket on to hide the marks. She found a low wall to sit on and spent the remaining five minutes of her break wondering why the universe was against her.
Chapter 3
BythetimeSarahfinished work and collected the flowers, there was no time to go home, so she made her way to the ugly sports bar her mother had booked for the party. As she walked in, she found her father up a ladder hanging bunting and streamers from 1980s light fittings, and her mother arguing with a harassed-looking caterer.
Colin climbed down the ladder and father and daughter watched as Cynthia became irate.
‘Should I help?’
‘She looks like she can manage,’ said Colin, winking at Sarah.
‘The hall’s looking good.’
‘You think so?’
‘Yes. Don’t you?’
Colin looked at Sarah. ‘Love, I know it’s none of my business, but don’t you want more than this?’
‘More than what?’
