‘No, actually, I am thinking nasty thoughts about somebody now,’ said Josh, turning the food processor back on. Kate and I shared a rare moment of bonding and grinned at each other when, thank God, the phone rang.
‘JOSH! TURN THE FOOD PROCESSOR OFF!’ I yelled, flapping my hands up and down.
‘Oh yes, just boss around sweet old, pushed around “he’s too nice” Josh,’ he grumbled.
‘SHUT IT!’ I yelled, just as Kate picked up the phone.
‘Holly Livingstone’s office,’ she said sweetly as I winced and lunged for the receiver. She held it at arm’s length.
‘Yes, she’s here … May I ask who’s calling?’
I jumped up and down on the lino in frustration and made clawing motions with my hands.
‘I’ll just see if she’s free.’
Finally she handed the phone over.
‘Hellayer!’ I said in my best posh telephone voice. ‘This is Holly Livingstone.’
‘Hellayer!’ said the voice back, so I instantly knew it was Big Lady.
‘This is Mrs Bigelow’ – oh, that’s why I hadn’t been able to remember her name – ‘of That Special Someone. We’ve decided to offer you the post of Floral Executive. Nine to six, five days a week, alternate Saturdays off.’
Then she named the salary, which although more than I was getting for shift work down at NCG was still, I could practically guarantee, lower than that of every single person I went to college with, even that enormous girl with egg down her front and her glasses stuck together who treated English as if it wasn’t her first language, even though it was, and the Art Historians.
‘Great! That’s great!’ I stuttered, then remembered I was supposed to be the kind of person who would be fielding job offers constantly. ‘I mean, I think that will be suitable. When would you wish me to start?’
‘Saturday?’
Oh no. Saturday was my Natural History Museum date.
‘Will Monday be all right? I wouldn’t like to leave my former employers in the lurch.’
‘Oh, yes,’ she said, flustered. ‘Of course, I absolutely agree. Employee loyalty is extremely important here at That Special Someone.’
So it was settled. Kate nearly slapped me for not renegotiating my salary offer when it would clearly be all such a high-ranking employee would deserve.
I debated with myself briefly whether to just blow off New Covent Garden completely, but couldn’t quite bring myself to do so, and pedalled in an insouciant three-quarters of an hour late.
‘You wouldn’t have got away with those kinds of hours during the war, you know,’ muttered Johnny as I swung into the forecourt.
‘Actually, I’m sorry – I got bombed on the way here and had to stop and rescue some orphans from the rubble. Is that OK? Also, I quit.’
‘Well, just get in there and get started.’
‘Johnny, didn’t you hear me? I just quit. I’ll work tonight, then you can pay me and I’ll be off.’
He stared at me, surprised.
‘So, you’re off then.’
‘That would be my definition of “to quit”, yes.’
He nodded his head slowly.
‘What are you going to do?’
I decided to brighten up his evening.
‘I’m going to join the army.’
‘Are you really?’
‘Absolutely. Going to continue with your valiant efforts to protect this country through the twin poles of duty and flowers.’
‘Ah, get away with you, you liar.’
‘I’ll miss you,’ I said.
He shrugged at me. ‘No, you won’t. In you go. Go clean up the daffodil line.’
I parked the bike and tiptoed into the vast shed.
‘TinBits!’ yelled one of the boys. ‘Where have you been? Wanking behind the melons just hasn’t been the same without you.’
It gave me a grim satisfaction to realize how little I was going to miss this place.
About halfway into the shift, the moment I’d been dreading arrived. Tash sidled up to me, her yellow teeth glinting.
‘Bit late tonight, weren’t we? Didn’t learn to tell the time at college then?
I didn’t say anything.
‘Forgotten how to talk as well?’
Oh God, I was too old for this.
‘Piss off, Tash,’ I said quietly. ‘I’m leaving.’
‘WHAT did you say?’ she said. ‘Hey, lads, did you hear this?’
I pretended to ignore her, and picked up my first box. Inside, I started trembling.
‘Miss Degree here just told me to piss off. Didn’t you?’ she said, pointing at me.
‘Tash, I really don’t want any trouble. It’s my last night, so you can go and find someone else to pick on, OK?’
‘Oh, diddums. Don’t want any trouble?’ She pushed her hand up under my box, so the flowers scattered all over the floor.
‘You think you’re just a bit too good for us here, don’t you?’ she said.
‘No,’ I said, meaning: ‘Yes, I hope so.’
‘Catfight!’ shouted one of the lads.
‘You think you’re just a little bit special; a bit above all this.’
‘Fight! Fight! Fight!’ the lads picked up.
‘No, I don’t,’ I said, but caught my breath in surprise when she pushed me. The blood started to rush in my ears, but I certainly didn’t know how to fight. I leaned down to pick up the box, and she kicked me in the shoulder.
After that, everything seemed to rush. Immediately the boys and the other drooling girls formed a circle round us, and I was trapped. I got to my feet, wondering what on earth to do. Tash was looking at me, laughing.
‘Not quite so up on the smart remarks now, are we?’
‘Oh, for God’s sake, leave it, Tash.’ I was trying to be reasonable, but my voice came out all shaky. Then, suddenly, like one of those flying vampires in the movies, she launched herself at me. I was falling backwards, and someone was clawing at my face and hair. A jumble of thoughts rushed through my head, not the least of which was: How embarrassing; my first fight at the age of twenty-eight.
My focus swam back in, and I realized she was sitting on top of me, getting ready to punch me. The boys were yelling, and I thought what a turn-on this must be for them. I tried to twist her off, but she slapped me hard on the side of the head. Oh God. My heart was beating a million miles an hour.
‘JUST FUCK OFF!’ I screamed. ‘FUCK OFF!’ She slapped me again, hard, then made her hand into a fist and drew it back to punch me.
She crunched into me with such force that my head rattled off the concrete. I was stunned by the violation and thought I was going to pass out; I wanted to. I couldn’t see anything, but suddenly she seemed to float off me; the weight was lifted and I wondered if I’d died and was having an out-of-body experience.
The next thing I knew, Johnny was pulling me up, brushing me down and exclaiming, ‘Girls fighting! I don’t know.’
‘I