The Great Christmas Breakup (17 page)

‘But, if you gave me a chance . . .’

She had the good grace to wait and hear what I had to say, but nothing cam
e to me. Sighing, she stood up.

‘
There’s the door.’

I
hadn’t
been treated so badly
since some wino threw up on me when I was working on the stall with Lolly.

With the exception of Cecily Teeson, of course.

The s
econd interview was thanks to
Lolly, who was working her
way up through the ranks at
a major
fashion
chain.

However, J had colic and I had to reschedule and when I turned up for the interview
,
they’d already hired someone else.

From there,
things went downhill.
I couldn’t seem to get an interview anywhere – even
a
receptionist pos
ition at the nearest dump required
more
qualifications than I could offer
.

Finally, I’d stopped by a local supermarket
downtown
to buy some carrots. A
part-time job
for a cashier was
advertised
in the window.
Scooting inside, I spoke to the manager, who
seemed to appreciate the fact
that
I spoke English and had a head
and two arms and functioning legs
. He
hired me on the spot and I began my career, if that’s what it was, at Flindes.

When we moved to Brooklyn, I transferred within the company, and four managers later, Dan Phillit, graduate of some third rate instituti
on in the mid west, had become my boss.

‘You’re a bit old to be working he
re,’ was the first thing he said to
me.

Which was when I suspected that my da
ys at
Flindes
were numbered.

Mum.

‘Why haven’t you called me back?’

‘I didn’t know you’d called.’

‘I left a lot of messages, Scarlet.
’

I glanced at the machine –
the red light was blinked manically.

Shit.

‘Mum, I am so sorry, how are things?’

‘They’ve taken your dad into a home. He
’s
had a stroke.
A bad one.
’

If I thought I could feel any lower
after the episode with Dan Phillit
, I’d
have
been wrong.

‘Oh Mum. Shall I come
home
?’

H
ow
it could be
manage
d was a mystery
, but I had to offer, didn’t I? There would be some way to make it work.

Cecily 2’s income from working as a porno mistress, perhaps?

‘No, no. Don’t bother.
There’s nothing you can do now. Nothing I can do. They say he might go on for years the way he is, now.
In a vegetative state.
He doesn’t
known
when I go to visit. They are feeding him through a tube.
’

Her voice caught and I heard gentle sobs.

‘Are you sure you don’t want me to come back?’

‘I know you can’t, dear. And like I said, there is nothing to be done for the poor man now.
He isn’t on a ventilator and is breathing normally, which means he is just a living shell of what he once was.
’

I felt sick with grief. For her, and for me. He might be a cheater, but he was still my dad.

‘
If that’s the case
why don’t you come here, for a visit?’

It wasn’t fair to ask her, because I knew what she’d say.

Predictably, Mum replied as I’d guessed. ‘
I shouldn’t leave your father. And t
he doctor said
I
still
can’t fly because
of my blood pressure
.
’

‘Then I’ll try to get to you, help you sort out Dad’s stuff.
’

Once Robert paid me the full am
ount for my work, I’d have
the
money for a fare.

‘Alright dear, but don’t hurry. There is nothing to be gained from you coming immediately.’

I tried not to think about the fact that I didn’t have my job at the co-op any longer.
Once the
Chocolato
money was spent, we’d be eating con-flakes for every meal.

W
hat Car
son would say when he found out I’d been fired from Flindes?

Probably not a lot.
Carson was fond of the silent treatment.

‘No dear,
’ Mum repeated, when I didn’t answer. ‘D
on’t worry, your father had everything organized, just in case. The bank says it is all in order.
Don’t you fret, it will all work
out.
It always does.
’

And then Mum rang off
without saying goodbye
, because she couldn’t speak through her tears any longer.

*

An hour later, I’d pulled it together. Whatever happened, I needed to earn that
extra
two thousand dollars – and the reasons were certainly
beginning to stack
up.
In fact, my head was spinning with Mum, Lolly, Carson,
the kids and
Cecily 2 – I could barely put one foot in front of the other for the
worries sloshing
about in
side
my brain.

Wrapping up warm,
I caught a variety of public transport optio
ns
, most of which
succeeded
in breaking down at some point during the journey.

When I finally got to
Manhattan, I
made my way to
each of the three shops on Robert Simpson’s list
and took account of
the
window displays
.
There wasn’t much to
differentiate
between the three.
Th
ey
were all dark, conservative-
looking places, and the first thing
I asked
each manager was
:
W
hy on earth aren’t
there more lights on the chocolate
?

‘It’s like
you’re trying to hide the stock
.’

It melts,
came
back
the answer each time.
Of course.
Unwrapped chocolate melts under lights in an enclosed space, and then
it re-hardens overnight, causing
a horrible
streaky white on the chocolate that tastes gritty when eaten.

‘We can’t afford to wa
ste food,’ the manager of Shop One
, a
slender
guy with
a lofty expression and
one of those semi-beards,
told me. ‘But I agree with you, we aren’t displaying
the chocolates off properly.
Look at those darling chocolate cows – the detail is
exquisite, but no one can get a good look
.
We’ve p
ut some of our packaging here and there
to brighten things up
, but if we just show
the
boxes, no one knows what
’s inside and they don’t buy as much
. We
would
get far more sa
les wi
th the chocolates shown off in their full glory.
’

The present arrangement was shelf
drawers of different chocolate animals
in lines, with a few gold boxes tied with Christm
as ribbons dotted about
.
Because of the dim lighting, the drawers appeared a sludge of brown.

By the time I’d made it around
all three
stores, a plan was forming
.

But t
o make it work,
I needed to see if Ha
mmertro’s uncle could help me with it – at a low
, low
cost.
I wanted to hang on to as much of the thousand dollar deposit as I could. Without comprising on the end result, of course.
I’d call on Hammertro the moment I got in.

But before I set off for home, there was one final call I needed to make.

Racing through the subway system and coming up near
LollyBliss
, I
found Lolly behind the counter
and the place almost empty.

‘Oh, Scar, hi.’

‘Why aren’t you picking up my calls?’

‘I thought you’d think I was a freak.
I wanted to give you time not to hate me.
’

Oh Lolly.

Poor, beautiful, Lolly.

‘Of course I don’t
think that
. I can’t reciprocate, of course, but–‘

Lolly’s tinkling laugh trickled over the counter.

‘Why would you
reciprocate
?’

‘Because, you, um, think of me, um, in
that
way.
’

More laughter.
‘You think I am in love with
you
?’

‘Isn’t
that why you’re not picking up the phone?
’

She let me down
gently. ‘As attractive as you are, Scar, it’s not you.’

I was about to begin the interrogation
of who the miraculous creature was who’d
finally
won Lolly’s affections
when Lucinda stumbled from the back room with a huge armful of clothes.

‘Too heavy,’ she declared, dumping them on the counter.

I waited for Lolly to tell her to be careful; that she’d snag the brightly colored trademark
knitwear
on the tops of the hangers by carrying them like that, but Lolly wasn’t looking at the jumpers.

Her eyes were fixed to Lucinda.

And then I got it.

Oh no.

Really?

Lucinda?

For the first time ever, I felt really, really sorry for Lolly.

Because t
he likelihood of
Lucinda being gay was on par with
Carson suddenly becoming a
jobbing
lawyer.

It was n
ever
, ever
going to happen.

Before I could say anything more, Lolly came to her senses and suggested that
if I was going to be in Manhattan then
we
should
meet up for lunch later in the week.

‘Sure. I’ll call
you, but p
ick up this time, okay?’

Lolly nodded, but once again, her gaze was elsewhere.

*

I was almost to the subway when my mobile rang.

Not problems with Cecily 2,
I prayed.

The prayers were answered. Sort of. It was
Robert.

‘Hi, are you still in town?’

How did he know I was in town.
Must have assumed I would be, given I’d agreed to complete the job in three bloody days.

‘Just leaving.’

‘Oh, how about a coffee and a debrief?’

I was shattered from
the day from hell and I still had to get home
and find food in
the cupboards to turn into
a half respectable
dinner
,
but how could I say no?

He’d got
ten
me the position, hadn’t he?

I looked around, spied a Starbucks, and told Robert where I was.
It was a
tad rude,
demanding he come to me,
but under the circumstances
,
it was the best
that
I
, and my poor, tired feet,
could manage.

As I waited, I considered
that when the airfare
back to England
was factored in,
the
leftover
profit from
these
window jobs was going to have
to last a long time.