Authors: Mandy Baggot
The third report, only six months old, stated that he had spent two months in a rehab clinic for alcohol addiction. The picture tagged to the article was of Jimmy leaving the Freedom Vale Rehabilitation Centre, looking how he looked now. Toned in body, fresh faced, handsome and chocolate eyed. Reason three for unsuitability - good enough to eat, makes your heart leap when he touches you, no that wasn’t right that was a pro not a con. Well, unless you didn’t like your heart leaping. She was undecided.
She
didn’t know why she didn’t remember seeing the articles the first time she looked at Cleo’s magazines. Except that she never would have considered that someone in
Star Life
magazine would appear at the Civic Hall or that their character would matter to her as much as it seemed to matter now. But the articles were exactly what she needed to see, all in all he was unsuitable, completely not her type. He was the archetypal celebrity indulging in all the excesses that life offered him. He had slept with more people than Cleo and he was an alcoholic. So why did she feel warm all over the minute she saw him?
Cleo burst into Samantha’s room, her hair tied up in a dotty scarf, and last night’s mascara heavy round her eyes.
‘
Have you seen the time?! Why aren’t you up? Where’s my tea?’ Cleo shrieked at her sister.
‘
Sorry,’ Samantha responded, hurriedly sitting up and pushing the magazines under the bed with her foot.
Cleo marched into the room and peered at Samantha suspiciously, putting her face right up close to her sister’s.
‘
Are you ill?’ Cleo wanted to know.
‘
Yes, maybe, I’m not sure. Sorry about your tea, I…’ Samantha started, not wanting Cleo to ask her too many questions.
‘
Something’s happened. I can tell when you’re keeping things from me. Something’s happened hasn’t it?’ Cleo said with a nod, still not taking her eyes from her sister.
‘
No, nothing’s happened. I just overslept that’s all,’ Samantha replied.
‘
Argh! Oh my God!’ Cleo shrieked, and she grabbed a fistful of Samantha’s Civic Hall polo shirt.
‘
What’s the matter? What are you doing?’ Samantha demanded to know, trying to pull herself out of Cleo’s clutches.
‘
This! This is why something has happened! This is last night’s uniform!’ Cleo exclaimed, her eyes wide in horror.
‘
It isn’t,’ Samantha lied.
‘
Yes it is. Yesterday was a jumper and polo shirt day and today is a Civic Hall sweatshirt day. I live with you Sam, I know all your completely annoying routines and this is yesterday’s uniform. So spill, what happened last night? Because I know you didn’t go out with Connor. He phoned Jeremy, right in the middle of the main course I might add. Said you rattled on about allergies and fish oils,’ Cleo spoke.
‘
Nothing happened. The hall was a mess after everyone left. I stayed behind to clean up, I got home late and just got into bed. I didn’t even clean my teeth,’ Samantha informed her, trying to kick a wayward protruding
Star Life
magazine back under her bed.
‘
You didn’t clean your teeth? You didn’t gargle with that awful mouthwash stuff you use? Now I know something’s going on. Come on, out with it. You might be making me late but this is serious. You’re not being normal,’ Cleo answered and she sat herself down on the edge of Samantha’s bed.
‘
I don’t always do the same thing every day,’ Samantha responded, moving a little away from her sister, hoping she hadn’t taken up mind reading.
‘
Yes you do,’ Cleo insisted.
‘
I told you. I cleaned up the hall and it was late so I just - you know - crashed,’ Samantha told her, knowing how ridiculous she sounded.
‘
Oh God, it’s a man! This is man behaviour. This is how you behaved the last time you were interested in someone. This was what you were like when you met that guy from the bookshop, the one with the…’ Cleo began as she became animated.
‘
Don’t say it!’ Samantha begged, cringing at the thought of the body piercing.
‘
When you met him you went all weird and started acting out of character and that was when you did a wash without separating the whites. You never do that, ever!’ Cleo reminded her.
‘
You’re making me sound like some sort of freak,’ Samantha answered, not enjoying hearing her personality
analysed
.
‘
So it’s a man. And that’s why you turned down Connor. Why didn’t you tell me you had your eye on someone? Poor Connor, I actually think he was quite interested in you - despite your best attempts to ruin it,’ Cleo continued.
‘
Connor was very nice but very small. For future reference I really don’t go for men who could jockey greyhounds,’ Samantha told her.
‘
So who have you gone for then? Who is this mystery man that’s made you throw caution to the wind, go to bed with your clothes on and forget your sisterly duties?’ Cleo demanded to know, jumping up and down on the bed.
‘
There isn’t any man. I told you, I was just tired. I
had
worked all day and most of the night,’ Samantha reminded, swallowing as she lied.
‘
You swallowed, you’re lying. Sam, I know you. You not only have major routines but you have major habits too, ones you can’t control. Swallowing when you’re lying is one of them. Now let’s not spend all morning playing cat and mouse, just get it over with and tell me,’ Cleo ordered, her eyes wide.
Samantha let out a sigh. There was no use lying to Cleo. She knew her too well and she was like a dog with a bone. Once she latched onto something there was no stopping her.
‘
OK, there’s a man,’ Samantha admitted bravely, sitting up straight and taking a deep breath.
‘
Argh! I knew it! Who is it? Do I know him? Tell me! What happened last night?’ Cleo blurted out, pulling the scarf from her hair and twirling it round her hand excitedly.
‘
Nothing happened last night and you don’t know him,’ Samantha informed, putting her hand up to her throat so Cleo couldn’t see her swallowing.
‘
So, who is he? I want name and vital statistics,’ Cleo carried on.
At that moment Darren Jacobs was invented. Samantha made him six foot, with blonde hair and blue eyes. Average looking, a nice pleasant face but not someone Cleo would call ‘drop dead horny’. Even though she was thinking of Jimmy she was trying to depict a handsomed down version of Jason Donovan - although she didn’t really know why. She told Cleo he’d been in the audience and had stayed behind to talk to her after getting chatting while buying a Berry Fruits ice cream in the interval. If only! He worked in the financial sector and lived in the smart area a couple of tube stops away, in one of the expensive apartments that Samantha knew Cleo loved. She embellished the story with details of what he’d been wearing, what car he drove and the fact he’d been accompanied to the show by his seventy five year old mother who was hard of hearing but a big ice skating fan.
‘
Wow Sam, he sounds fantastic! So when are you seeing him again?’ Cleo asked excitedly.
‘
Today, maybe. I have his number and he wants me to call,’ Samantha responded with half a smile.
She almost believ
ed the story herself. Although she wished she’d dressed him in something less bright - a red shirt and chinos made him sound a bit camp.
‘
Well, I would leave it until lunchtime at least before you ring. You mustn’t seem too keen. That’s the art of seduction, you have to keep them guessing,’ Cleo spoke with a nod of authority.
‘
Oh I don’t know whether to ring or not. I’m not sure he’s really my type,’ Samantha answered.
‘
He’s six foot, nice looking and has money - of course he’s your type! Get with the program!’ Cleo ordered her.
‘
Yeah of course, silly me,’ Samantha said with a nervous laugh.
‘
Now, now that we’ve got it all out in the open you’d better change into the sweatshirt and go and make me a cup of tea, because otherwise I’m going to be really late and probably lose this job. Do you want to be responsible for me having to go into that horribly dowdy job centre with all the benefit cheats again?’ Cleo spoke, standing up and moving towards the door of Samantha’s room.
‘
No of course not. I’m getting on to it right now,’ Samantha replied with a false smile, standing up from the bed
as well
.
‘
Good and I want an introduction to Darren as soon as the first date is over. And I want all the gory details if you - well you know - if you…’ Cleo spoke, referring to Samantha’s pure status.
‘
Complete rundown if we go all the way, of course,’ Samantha answered, smiling so much her face was aching.
Cleo giggled excitedly and then disappeared as swiftly as she had appeared, banging the door loudly behind her.
Samantha was just about to let out a sigh of relief when Cleo reopened the door and screamed loudly again.
‘
I almost forgot to tell you! I met Jimmy Lloyd last night! Oh my God, he is so gorgeous and so nice. Chantelle took photos, I almost died!’ Cleo exclaimed, her eyes glazing over as if she was reliving the moment.
‘
That’s nice,’ Samantha responded.
‘
It was more than nice it was fantastic. The funniest thing though, he knew who I was and he knew your name. Obviously because of that silly name badge you wear, but he remembered it none the less. Actually though, I think he called you Sam,’ Cleo exclaimed, pondering on the fact.
‘
Well that’s just typical. Can’t even read a name badge properly,’ Samantha remarked quickly with a smile.
‘
Right, well, I’d better get ready. Any chance of tea in ten minutes?’ Cleo asked, smiling at her sister and leaving the room.
Once the door was finally closed and she could hear Cleo running the shower Samantha slumped back down on the bed. She was crazy, why had she made up a fictional boyfriend? Nothing had happened last night with anyone. All that had happened was she had come to the devastating realisation she was no different to Cleo and had developed some insane crush on Jimmy Lloyd. She hated herself, she was pathetic. The chocolate eyes and the athletic frame affected her.
But no more. Now she had spent the entire night reading about his questionable character, no amount of sex appeal was going to make her resolve weaken.
It was after 9.00
am when Samantha arrived at the hall. Gobby was parading up and down outside the front doors, as if waiting for her and when he saw her approach he trotted up to her, clawed at her trousers and began weaving in and out of her legs.
‘
It’s too early Gobby, there’s no food yet,’ Samantha told the cat, bending down to stroke his back.
He mewed and nuzzled his mouth against her hand.
‘
Samantha! What time d’you call this? It’s well after nine. I do trust you’ll be working through your lunch hour to make up the time.’
Samantha was completely taken aback at the tone of Dave’s voice and the way he was tapping his fat finger to his watch as he came to the front doors. She was also a little surprised to see him dressed in a clean white shirt, a brand new Civic Hall waistcoat and a
Dickie
bow tie. He looked ridiculous, like a circus ringmaster with a gut like a Swiss gym ball.
‘
Sorry I’m late Dave, but…’ Samantha began, moving towards him and trying to detach Gobby from her trousers.
‘
It’s Mr Gordon to you and I won’t have any excuses about your grandmother being ill or your dog being run over. We run a tight ship here and punctuality is the key to our success,’ Dave boomed loudly.
Samantha looked at him, almost waiting for a punch line to the mad sketch he had just performed. Nothing happened. Dave just stood staring back at her. Gobby let out a loud
miaow
and hissed at Dave, arching his back in disapproval.
‘
Get that matted thing away from the hall. The scrounging beast probably has worms,’ Dave snarled.
Samantha gave Gobby a pat and urged him to leave. Sensing he was going to achieve nothing by staying the cat turned tail and hot footed it up the street.
As they entered the foyer the telephone rang and
Dave practically leapt to answer it.
‘
Good morning, Woolston Civic Hall, Dave Gordon speaking, the manager. How can I assist you?’
Before Samantha’s jaw could drop open at Dave’s keenness to answer the phone and his jovial, if somewhat elongated introduction, she was aware of someone standing in the doorway of Dave’s office.
A tall, thin man dressed in a grey pinstriped suit was positioned behind the counter, picking up paperwork and studying the charts on the wall. He was carrying a clipboard and marked the piece of paper attached to it as Samantha caught his eye. His expression was unchanged and he reminded her of a pall bearer.
‘
Hello,’ Samantha said, looking at the solemn man who continued looking
sombre
.
‘
Good morning. You must be Miss Smith, Samantha Smith. Am I correct?’ the man enquired, peering down at Samantha from above his tiny, gold-rimmed glasses.
‘
Yes, I’m Samantha Smith,’ Samantha responded, feeling a little like she was back at school.