39 Weeks (30 page)

‘Okay.’ Shelley said, but I had the distinct feeling she didn’t believe me. Either she didn’t agree with what I was saying, but I couldn’t
imagine
it was that, or she didn’t think I really thought it, but I did. Well I was pretty sure I did.

James
phoned on Saturday night, and despite going through the polite motions of asking how I was and if I was still hobbling around on my crutch, what he really
wanted to know was why
I hadn’t called him. I couldn’
t
answer, well I could of course
but I couldn’t answer without hurting his feelings, so I stalled and said I’d been really busy
,
and
was
really tired because I’d been so
really
busy. The result being he came rou
nd for an hour Sunday lunchtime, yesterday.

I never mentioned the kiss and neither did he, at least not until he was on his way out. At first he’d been a bit awkward, then after a while we settled into the friendship we’d had before, him joking around a lot mostly at my expense, and me raising my eyebrows a lot at his terrible jokes, but then as he was leaving he said ‘
s
orry about the
kiss.
I thought . . but it was too soon, you weren’t ready I kn
ew it but I had to try anyway
.
’

‘Just don’t ever, I mean ever, call me Babe again.’

Is it . . have I ruined . . ?’

‘
No course not,
’ I said
.
What I should have said, should have done, was end it there and then. But I liked him, he made me laugh and as friends we got on great
,
but as anything more than friends? Well no I didn’t think so.

‘Good.’ He said smiling as he left.
‘I’ll
give you a call Babe
.’
Then grinned
to himself but said ‘s
orry’
afterwards
as if that made it alright.

It was selfish of me
I know, and I felt bad about not ending it,
but
not bad enough to stop seeing him, I enjoyed having him around that’s all there was to it. My only excuse was that in my pregnant over-emotional state, all the books said you were over-emotional when you’re pregnant, I couldn’t help myself. Well that’s my story and I’m sticking to it, selfish or not.

Last night Rob came up to double check that I’d be okay driving myself to work this morning, and I confirmed that he was officially relieved of his driving duties
. Then he asked me for my key as he said he wanted to get started on the painting while I was at work. We went through the whole, you don’t have to and him saying he wanted to again, ending with me handing over the key
.
So while I sat at work gearing up for the month end, Rob was at my place decorating.

It had been six months since my promotion
and as far as I could tell everything had worked out fine and I was doing a good job, but then I got a call from Norman to go and see him in his office later this afternoon. Course I went straight into panic mode and started worrying about what I’d done wrong
but
I couldn’t think of anything. The figures were a bit down but at this time of year it was normal for them to slump a bit.
Every year
there was a dip in sales
about now
,
and then again
in February, so I couldn’t see
how
it could be that. Maybe I’d screwed something up without even realising, I mean my head had definitely been somewhere else for the last couple
of months, and for Norman to be summoning me to his office it had to be something big. Oh crap, that’ll teach me to be so smug.

I went and sat in the new, made for the purpose, staff room with Doreen and Jack at lunch time. Everyone was still getting used to the novelty of having a staff room, and now the weather had turned colder we went there most days.

As we watched the rain getting heavier from our safe little
haven
Jack said ‘w
ell this beats sitting at your desk for lunch, doesn’t it?’ Every
day one of us would say something to that effect
, and the rest of us would all nod and mumble our agreement through mouthfuls of salad or sandwiches, but like I said it was still a novelty, and after so many years with nowhere to sit properly
at lunchtime
it was obviously not going to wear off any time soon.

Doreen was moaning about George again, he’d mis-coded half the invoices last week and it had only just come to light, so now she was going to have to stay late to correct it before we closed off for month end. Of course in an ideal world it should have been George who stayed late to put his mistake right, but not only did he refuse to take the blame, how I don’t know
when it was clearly his fault, but
he
also refused to do any overtime. So it had fallen to Doreen to do the journal entries.

She’d worked out that it would be seven weeks before he left, well six weeks and four days, that’s how muc
h she was looking forward to it
she was counting down in days. I asked if they were having a collection and a leaving do for him, and she said she was a bit worried about that.

‘
On the one hand he’
s been
here
since the dawn of time so it’s
sort of expected, but on the other hand he’
s
upset just about everyone at some time or another so who
’s
going
to want to put towards his leaving present? If we collect a fiver I’ll be surprised. And as for a leaving do, it’ll be a party of one, him, cos no-one else is going to want to go.’

‘Can’t you send the collection round the factory? I mean he has been here a long time, and they might not know him as well as we do.’ Jack suggested.

‘Yeah that’s a good idea, I might just do that.’ Doreen said.

‘What will he do, do you think
,
once
he’s retired?’ I said.

‘Don’t know, don’t care as long as he’s not here.’ Doreen said with vehemence. ‘Probably make his wife’s life even more of a misery than it already is.’

‘You don’t know that
’ Jack said. ‘For all you know he’s a pussycat at home.’

We both looked at Jack as if he’d lost the plot, and he feeling the intensity of our
contempt at such a ridiculous idea, tried to justify himself. ‘Well he could be, or maybe she’s a bit of a dragon lady and that’s why he’s such a nightmare at work.’

‘No he just is a nightmare, and his wife poor cow, has had to live with it all this time.’ Doreen said.

‘Then why didn’t she leave him?’ Jack said.

‘She probably thought about it, but it’s too late now.
She probably t
hought about it a million times.
I know I would have.’
Doreen said.

‘Yeah I would have too.’ I said.

‘D’you suppose he’s always been like that?’ Jack asked.

‘He’s been like it as long as I’ve known him.’ Doreen said.

‘Well at least
you won’t have to put up with him
much longer.’ Jack said tactfully.

‘I’ve got to go and see Norman later.’ I said changing the subject.

‘Why?’ Doreen asked.

‘Don’t know, he just asked me to go and see him after lunch, at two.’

‘That doesn’t sound good, does it? What did you do?’ Doreen said.

‘I didn’t do anything, well not that I know of.’

‘Maybe he’s going to promote you again.’ Jack said.

‘What when I’m expecting a baby, not likely is it?’

‘No I suppose not, wonder what it’s about then.’

We finish
ed lunch and went back upstairs
and I tried to
get on with some
work until two, but it was a lost cause, I was so worried that I was going to get the sack I couldn’t concentrate on anythin
g. I mean what else could it be,
Norman calling me down to his office at this time
of
month,
and
out of the blue
like that
.

But it turned out I wasn’t getting the sack, almost the reverse. Not promotion exactly but
evidently Norman’s son, who’d just graduated, was trying to start his own business, him and a friend from university, selling
tee shirts and bandana’s they’d bought wholesale on the internet and had gotten printed up with festival slogans
, and with Daddy’s backing and contacts evidently weren’t doing
too
badly
at it
. But what they weren’t doing was keeping records or any sort of accounts for the business, and what Norman wanted was for me to
go over their paperwork, such as it was, and put it into some sort of shape for the taxman.
  

I was a bit gobsmacked that Norman had thought of me, but not so gobsmacked that it prevented me from saying I’d do it. He was going to pay me a fixed sum that fitted neatly with the price of those mortgage worthy pushchairs I’d looked at in Mothercare. Course it meant that I’d be working at home most evenings this week, and at the weekend, but a pushchair is a pushchair and not to be sneezed at, and anyway what else was I doing in the evenings, apart from falling asleep?

I left Norman’s office with a mountain of receipts and papers that had been t
hrown in an old grocery box
that evidentl
y had once contained bananas, and w
hen I say thrown I mean exactly that, they were in no order whatsoever. There were bank statements and the stubs of a half used up cheque book, parking tickets, and
Deli receipts,
and heaven knows what else
all just chucked in together. This was never going to be some quick fix it job, but I was happy. I hadn’t got the sack and more than that Norman had trusted me with his son’s paperwork, and I was going to buy a pushchair. What more could a girl ask for? Well a girl in my predicament
anyway
.

6
th
November – Week 23

I slept in a bit
this morning, I was still up by
ten so it wasn’t mega late, but still it was late for me. I’d had a long shower, it was such a luxury being able to stand on both feet, and washed my ha
ir that was still damp
,
and pretty much thrown on the first thing that came to hand, which was last night’s jeans and a clean tee shirt.
Then I’d made myself a cuppa and was finalising the accounts I’d sorted out for Norman’s son and his friend.

I’d done a good
job, it had taken me every evening
last week, and on Friday I’d been up until one in the morning, but I’d done it. An hour or two this morning and it would be finished and ready for the taxman.

I’d taken recently to stroking my bump and talking to it like she, my baby, could understand. I’ve no idea what that was all about, but somehow it felt natural, and now I explained to her about having to finish this off so I could buy her a pushchair. 

There was a gentle knock on the door as I poured over my laptop set up on the dining table. No doorbell, so I knew it had to be someone from downstairs, either Marsha or Rob. I could
really
have done with a bit of peace and quiet but it’s not like I could pretend to be out is it?

It was Rob.
‘Hey, heard you up and about, so I thought I’d give
the living room
it’s second coat.’ Rob said
as soon as I opened the door
forgoing
a more usual greeting like ‘hello’ or ‘g
ood morning’.

During the week while I’d been slaving away at the nine to five, he’d been busy washing down paintwork and plastering the odd crack, and generally preparing my bedroom and the living room for their new coat of paint
. He’d already given the living room
its first coat but as it dried there was still a hint of peach showing through
so it was going to need a second or even a third coat to cover it up completely.

‘D’you mind if we give it a miss today?’ I said not opening the door completely so he couldn’t just walk in.

‘Er . . no, you’re not hung over are you?’

‘I don’t think you can get hung over on one glass of wine.’

Last night we’d been to see Shelley and Nick’s new flat and had dinner
there. T
he fake double date. It hadn’t been awkward at all, in fact it had been a really nice evening. We’d gone in Rob’s car
, no point in taking both, and stayed until after midnight.

‘No
fair point. Are you expecting company?’

‘Not that I know of. I just need to finish this job for work and I need a bit of peace and quiet.’ I said still not opening the door properly.