inside before slumping against the wall and crying my heart out. And not graceful lady tears like Meryl at an Oscar acceptance speech. Oh no, these are big gulping heaving sobs that I just know are going to make my face look like a swollen blotchy balloon in about an hour or so.
4
Over! I say the word over and over inside my head as I huddle inside the cubicle. I’m in the staff loo and I can’t stop crying. Angry tears. Sad tears. All mingled together.
‘Hey, you OK in there?’
‘Err. Who is it?’ I ask hesitantly, quickly wiping the back of a hand across my cheeks.
‘It’s me. Annie.’ I pull open the door and she hands me a wedge of tissues. ‘What’s up?’
‘It’s nothing.’
‘Bullshit! Tell me or I’m going downstairs right now to mess up your merch,’ she says, flinging one hand onto her hip and twiddling her nose stud with the other.
‘You wouldn’t dare.’ I manage a watery smile.
‘Try me. You know those cute gold stars and sparkly white snowman shapes you spent all last week scattering amongst the DKNY shelves to create the perfect Christmassy display?’
‘
Nooo
.’ My eyes widen. ‘It took me ages to stencil them, spray-paint them, cut them out and then place them artfully amongst the winter collection … ’
‘Exactly.’ Another silence follows as I ponder on what to say. Everyone knows that Tom and I had started dating, but still … instinct tells me that I need to be professional about us splitting up. Besides, I refuse to be the stereotypical girl who has a fling with the boss, ends up getting burnt and her colleagues all rally round feeling sorry for her while slagging off the guy. Tom doesn’t deserve that. He’s gorgeous, my perfect man, or so I had thought. What’s happened between us doesn’t change all that. I stick a smile on my face and take a deep breath. ‘It’s the reality TV programme, isn’t it?’ Annie says, interrupting my thoughts.
‘Well, kind of,’ I say, feeling relieved. ‘Anyway, how are you? I thought you were upset about it too,’ I say, shifting the focus away from me.
‘Me? Oh no.’ She flaps her hand and pulls a face. ‘Yeah, I was a bit hacked off when I saw myself on the telly, but after Amy, the HR manager, said I’m not getting sacked, so this bad boy is still out of here, I’m cool with it.’ And she pulls down her top to circle an index finger around the Flo Rida tattoo.
‘Err, good,’ I say, feeling increasingly like the biggest party pooper going. First Eddie, then Mrs Grace and now Annie – they’re all keen to do the show. But how do they know it won’t backfire, just like that old airport reality show with easyJet? The bit I saw was just a load of customers complaining, so what’s to say Kelly’s programme won’t do the same to us? They’ve already made out that the service in Women’s Accessories is rubbish. If they do that throughout the whole store, it could seriously damage Carrington’s reputation forever. Instead of restoring the shop to its former glory, Tom will have ruined everything by calling in favours from old family friends. Maybe those doubters in the business world are right after all, and he is out of his depth.
‘Yep, and that’s not all – guess what?’ Her eyes widen. ‘We’re getting eighty pounds per episode on top of our usual wages. Well, the ones doing the show are … Denise in Home Electricals is well jelz. But I told her, there’s no glamour in washing machines.’ She laughs.
‘Is that right?’
‘Sure is. Best news I’ve had in ages. And think of all the freebies, designer gear, goody bags, red-carpet invites, PR appearances – they all pay: big money, too! I’m thinking Sam Faiers – move over darling. I
can not
wait. Amy also said there’s going to be a special end-of-series Christmas wrap party with all of Kelly’s celebrity friends coming. And it’s going to be filmed
live!
And apparently, she actually knows Will.I.Am! Can you imagine?
Faint!
I’ve
4
Over! I say the word over and over inside my head as I huddle inside the cubicle. I’m in the staff loo and I can’t stop crying. Angry tears. Sad tears. All mingled together.
‘Hey, you OK in there?’
‘Err. Who is it?’ I ask hesitantly, quickly wiping the back of a hand across my cheeks.
‘It’s me. Annie.’ I pull open the door and she hands me a wedge of tissues. ‘What’s up?’
‘It’s nothing.’
‘Bullshit! Tell me or I’m going downstairs right now to mess up your merch,’ she says, flinging one hand onto her hip and twiddling her nose stud with the other.
‘You wouldn’t dare.’ I manage a watery smile.
‘Try me. You know those cute gold stars and sparkly white snowman shapes you spent all last week scattering amongst the DKNY shelves to create the perfect Christmassy display?’
‘
Nooo
.’ My eyes widen. ‘It took me ages to stencil them, spray-paint them, cut them out and then place them artfully amongst the winter collection … ’
‘Exactly.’ Another silence follows as I ponder on what to say. Everyone knows that Tom and I had started dating, but still … instinct tells me that I need to be professional about us splitting up. Besides, I refuse to be the stereotypical girl who has a fling with the boss, ends up getting burnt and her colleagues all rally round feeling sorry for her while slagging off the guy. Tom doesn’t deserve that. He’s gorgeous, my perfect man, or so I had thought. What’s happened between us doesn’t change all that. I stick a smile on my face and take a deep breath. ‘It’s the reality TV programme, isn’t it?’ Annie says, interrupting my thoughts.
‘Well, kind of,’ I say, feeling relieved. ‘Anyway, how are you? I thought you were upset about it too,’ I say, shifting the focus away from me.
‘Me? Oh no.’ She flaps her hand and pulls a face. ‘Yeah, I was a bit hacked off when I saw myself on the telly, but after Amy, the HR manager, said I’m not getting sacked, so this bad boy is still out of here, I’m cool with it.’ And she pulls down her top to circle an index finger around the Flo Rida tattoo.
‘Err, good,’ I say, feeling increasingly like the biggest party pooper going. First Eddie, then Mrs Grace and now Annie – they’re all keen to do the show. But how do they know it won’t backfire, just like that old airport reality show with easyJet? The bit I saw was just a load of customers complaining, so what’s to say Kelly’s programme won’t do the same to us? They’ve already made out that the service in Women’s Accessories is rubbish. If they do that throughout the whole store, it could seriously damage Carrington’s reputation forever. Instead of restoring the shop to its former glory, Tom will have ruined everything by calling in favours from old family friends. Maybe those doubters in the business world are right after all, and he is out of his depth.
‘Yep, and that’s not all – guess what?’ Her eyes widen. ‘We’re getting eighty pounds per episode on top of our usual wages. Well, the ones doing the show are … Denise in Home Electricals is well jelz. But I told her, there’s no glamour in washing machines.’ She laughs.
‘Is that right?’
‘Sure is. Best news I’ve had in ages. And think of all the freebies, designer gear, goody bags, red-carpet invites, PR appearances – they all pay: big money, too! I’m thinking Sam Faiers – move over darling. I
can not
wait. Amy also said there’s going to be a special end-of-series Christmas wrap party with all of Kelly’s celebrity friends coming. And it’s going to be filmed
live!
And apparently, she actually knows Will.I.Am! Can you imagine?
Faint!
I’ve
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