Authors: Mandy Baggot
Cleo’s room was displaying the amber crystal when Samantha reached it. She knocked cautiously and waited for a response.
‘
Sam is that you? If Jeremy’s here already I’m going to be at least half an hour. I’m in the middle of waxing,’ Cleo called out.
Samantha opened the door and put her head round it. Cleo was sat on her bed, wearing nothing but some rather tiny red underwear, applying warm wax to one of her legs.
‘
Can I come in?’ Samantha asked in a rather subdued voice.
‘
God yes, you can help me with this. I seem to be making a right mess of it,’ Cleo spoke, ushering her sister into the room.
Samantha came in and sat down on the bed next to Cleo.
‘
Why the long face? Ah ha, I see they’ve made up your new name badge. Surely that was a highlight of your day - something to smile about? By the way, what on earth time did you get in last night? Jeremy left at eleven and I waited up until almost one with hot chocolate at the ready, but there was no sign of you,’ Cleo spoke as she put some waxing strips on her leg.
‘
I had paperwork to do, at the office - you know - what with being manager,’ Samantha replied quickly.
‘
So you didn’t go out with Darren last night?’ Cleo quizzed.
‘
No,’ Samantha answered.
Cleo let out a blood curdling scream as she ripped the strip from her leg.
‘
God! This flaming kills! The things we have to do to be hair free! I thought epilating was painful but that has nothing on this,’ Cleo remarked, smoothing another strip of paper on her leg.
‘
I didn’t go out with Darren last night - but I’m going out with him tonight,’ Samantha stated with a deep breath.
‘
Wow! Great! Where? When? Is he coming here?’ Cleo babbled excitedly.
‘
We’re going to see a band, Air Patrol at the Presbook Centre. I…’ Samantha started.
‘
Air Patrol! How the Hell did he get tickets for that? When those tickets went on sale, must have been a few months ago now, they sold out in four minutes or something stupid - I heard it on the news,’ Cleo exclaimed impressed.
‘
Have I heard any of their records? ‘I’m All Out of Love?’ Is that one of theirs?’ Samantha enquired.
‘
No Muppet, that was Air
Supply
in the 1980s. Air Patrol is a rock band. They’ve had loads of hits, you’d know some of them for sure. God, I can’t believe you’re going to see them,’ Cleo carried on.
‘
I don’t know what to wear,’ Samantha told her sister bluntly.
Cleo let out another shriek as she ripped more hair from her leg.
‘
Is your skin supposed to go that red?’ Samantha enquired as she
scrutinised
her sister’s shin.
‘
Yes, at least I think so. Anyway I’m done now and hopefully, by the time Jeremy arrives, it’ll be back to somewhere near flesh colour. Either that or I’ll have to wear stockings or something. Right, outfits, come on, let’s have a look, I am, after all, the fashion expert of the house,’ Cleo spoke.
She grabbed her dressing gown, wrapped it round her and got to her feet. Then she led the way to Samantha’s bedroom.
‘
I was thinking maybe a suit. My black one or maybe I could borrow one of yours. There’s that grey one you bought that was too big,’ Samantha suggested as Cleo marched straight up to her wardrobe and threw open the doors.
‘
A suit! To a rock concert! Are you insane?’ Cleo exclaimed in horror.
‘
Well, I’ll be having a look at the facility too, in a professional capacity. They are our rivals for the council’s cash,’ Samantha told her as Cleo began to remove articles from the cupboard. Blouses, tops and skirts were parted, taken out, scrutinised and then either put back or held on to.
‘
But it’s a date isn’t it? We have to dress you for a date. Try on this, this and this,’ Cleo said, handing Samantha some items of clothing.
‘
I can’t wear this, you wore it to that party where the hostess was sick all over your boyfriend,’ Samantha said and she held the green top away from herself with two fingers, as if it were soiled.
‘
Oh God, yeah it was. But she wasn’t sick on
me
, just him. What was his name?’ Cleo asked her mind wandering.
‘
Well whatever it was I can’t wear that top. I wouldn’t be able to think about anything else all night. He was called Gareth I think,’ Samantha said and she dropped the offending item to the floor.
‘
Alright, well try this top instead,’ Cleo spoke and she handed her sister a replacement.
‘
Oh no, I can’t wear that one. That one you wore when you went on that date with - erm, I think his name was Mark. He took you horse riding. It wasn’t very supportive and you basically cantered out of your cups. What was the silly name of the horse?’ Samantha told her.
‘
Jesus Sam! Do you know where I wore every item of clothing I ever had?’ Cleo wanted to know.
‘
No. Well, OK, probably. Doughnut, that was what the horse was called. Hang on, how about, this top?’ Samantha asked and she pulled out a plain black, long-sleeved top.
‘
Hmm,’ Cleo said, surveying the item of clothing.
‘
What does “hmm” mean?’ Samantha asked her.
‘
It means the top is plain and boring and it will say “Hello Darren, I’m Samantha Smith and I’m as plain and boring as this top I’m wearing”,’ Cleo stated bluntly.
‘
Well, if I wear something of yours it’ll say “Hello, I’m Cleo, let’s cut to the chase and go to bed”,’ Samantha told her.
‘
Cheek! No it won’t. It’ll say “Hello Darren, I really like you, so much so I’ve made a real effort to dress nicely”,’ Cleo insisted.
‘
Oh I don’t know - maybe I shouldn’t go,’ Samantha spoke with a heavy sigh.
‘
Don’t be ridiculous, of course you’re going. What time is he coming?’ Cleo asked, checking her watch.
‘
He’s not. I’m meeting him there at seven thirty. My goodness, it’s half six, I haven’t showered, I’ve got nothing to wear and I need to catch the bus at ten past,’ Samantha exclaimed hysterically.
‘
You’re not getting a bus, get the tube.’
‘
You know I don’t like the tube and what if there’s a priest on there or something? I’ll probably end up sat next to him and then I won’t be able to relax and I’ll be clutching my bag to my chest the whole way,’ Samantha explained.
‘
Mum’s mugger wasn’t a real nun you know.’
‘
Yes I know that, but can you tell a real priest from a fake one?’
‘
Right, well, so we avoid everyone from the church, imposters or not, by calling a taxi. Now calm down or you’ll make yourself red and blotchy. Go and have a shower now, I’ll find you something to wear that’s a compromise between understated and a come on and then I’ll do your hair and make up,’ Cleo spoke and she began shooing Samantha towards the door of her bedroom.
‘
But what about your date with Jeremy? Won’t he be here any minute?’ Samantha asked, stopping in the doorway.
‘
I’ll call him, tell him I won’t be ready until half past. He’s usually here too early anyway and I’m never ready on time,’ Cleo spoke with a grin.
‘
Thanks Cleo,’ Samantha answered, smiling back at her sister.
‘
Well don’t just stand there, shoo! Get in the shower!’ Cleo ordered and she pushed Samantha out onto the landing and closed the door behind her.
Fourteen
The taxi arrived at 7.15
pm and Samantha began the five mile journey to the Presbook Centre.
Cleo hadn’t done too bad a job with her outfit. She was wearing jeans, some designer ones Cleo had bought in a size twelve instead of a ten in some sale or other. Usually a twelve wasn’t big enough but Samantha could only assume they were a big cut, because they hugged her in all the right places and she could sit down without feeling her stomach was rolling up towards her chin.
With the jeans she was wearing a red long-sleeved top that had two bits to tie around the neck that Cleo had done up in what she called a ‘nonchalant bow’. On her feet were a pair of shoes she had long since forgotten she owned. They were black wedged sandals she had bought on impulse in Simpkin’s Shoes. Lydia, the most bitchy of the band of The Witches of Woolston, had been standing by her at the time, looking over her shoulder when Samantha had been contemplating buying them for Cleo. Lydia knew Samantha would never wear anything like it and suggested loudly that Cleo might prefer them in yellow. She had then cackled, bringing Samantha to the attention of the other witches. Riled by the comment Samantha had picked another pair up in her size, taken them to the counter and bought them with her ten percent discount, loudly announcing they were just the right pair to go with the new Miss Selfridge dress she had bought to attend her cute cousin’s wedding. It had been worth the nineteen pounds ninety nine just to see the smarmy looks wiped from the witches’ faces for five minutes.
The red top was a bit brave for her though. She was very much a black/brown kind of girl, but having limited time and Cleo being so desperate to help, Samantha didn’t have the heart to protest. Cleo had toned and
moisturised
her, put on foundation and a small amount of eye shadow but Samantha had drawn the line at the pillar box red lipstick. She had hung her head upside down and blasted her hair with the dryer too, so now it had some volume and the finishing touch had been the red handbag Cleo insisted she took. It was tiny, like a Barbie doll bag, but it did fit in her money and door key and was really all she needed. She had flatly refused the packet of Durex Cleo had offered.
As soon as the taxi pulled up outside the Presbook Centre Samantha saw Jimmy. He was standing just outside the main doors where there were throngs of people flooding into the building. He was wearing jeans and a three quarter length khaki jacket with, what looked like, a blue top underneath. His hair was freshly styled and he looked amazing.
As the taxi prepared to come to a halt, Samantha saw a woman approach him. They began to talk and Jimmy was smiling at her, showing his perfect white teeth. The woman was attractive, blonde and slim. Samantha let out a sigh and watched them out of the window. The woman produced some paper and Jimmy began to write on it. Samantha’s heart lurched. They were so obviously exchanging phone numbers. And why shouldn’t they? He was single, he was completely gorgeous and funny and nice and the woman was slim and blonde and probably had white teeth too. She probably also liked clubbing.
‘
Is here OK love?’ the taxi driver asked as he stopped the car and looked at Samantha in his rear view mirror.
‘
Oh yes, yes, here is fine. How much is it?’ Samantha asked as she struggled to get her wallet out of the tiny bag.
‘
Call it seven quid,’ the cabbie spoke.
‘
Keep the change and could I have one of your cards for later?’ Samantha spoke, handing him a ten pound note.
‘
Sure, here you go,’ the taxi driver replied, passing a business card back to her.
The door of the taxi was suddenly swung open and Samantha found herself looking at Jimmy.
‘
Hey! You made it! D’you want me to pay the guy?’ Jimmy asked her.
‘
No! No, I’ve paid. It’s fine, thanks - thank you,’ Samantha called to the driver as she hurriedly scrambled out of the taxi.
Jimmy took hold of her arm to help her out and Samantha felt her cheeks burning. She really had to get over herself and stop thinking that this night was a date in the ordinary sense of the word. This was nothing but business. She needed to find business mode. She needed to think of the Civic Hall where she was in complete control and felt comfortable - she needed to focus. The very idea that someone like Jimmy would ask her out on a date was utterly laughable. She wasn’t his type at all. She wasn’t an actress with cosmetic enhancements and a collagen smile. She didn’t know her waist size or how many Ryvitas you had to eat to call it a main meal.
‘
You look really nice,’ Jimmy commented as they walked towards the entrance.
Oh why had he said that? Business, business, business.
‘
Oh, ho, ho,’ Samantha replied involuntarily, sounding like a petrified Father Christmas.
‘
Sorry, I didn’t mean to make that sound how it came out. I just haven’t actually seen you dressed in anything but your uniform. I was beginning to think you didn’t have any other clothes,’ Jimmy continued.
‘
No, ho, ho, hee,’ Samantha responded nervously.
She quickly clamped her mouth shut, pressing her teeth together hard before she could deliver any other ridiculous noises.
‘
I actually got here early, but so many people came up to me wanting autographs I had to go inside for a bit to look around - just to escape,’ Jimmy informed her.
‘
Oh, so the pretty woman wanted an autograph,’ Samantha commented again not thinking before she spoke.
‘
Pretty woman?’ Jimmy queried as they entered the centre.
‘
Oh wow, look. They’ve got a really open plan box office. The desk is low and there are - goodness, look at their leaflet holders,’ Samantha exclaimed excitedly, walking up to the plastic mounts and touching them fondly.