The Boss Part 4

More stereotypes shot down, more misunderstandings and more about Cathy Hungerford

The Boss - 4 of 8 - Education

Judy and I easily found the house; I suspect that it had a fair number of noughts on the end of the price tag, as it was in a posh part of town. It wasn’t very far from the house in which I grew up. ‘Them to avoid like the plague’, otherwise known as my parents, moved to Portsmouth a few years ago and were now well out of my way, thank goodness. This place looked like it should have staff. Electric gates gave onto a car park that fronted a huge mansion where I was sure you had to have a bath before you got into their bath.

Nikki (or was it Debbie?) greeted us both with a kiss on the cheek, after I’d introduced Judy. My uncertainty over the identity of the twin who opened the door to us was quickly dispelled.

“Hello, you two — perfect timing; come on into the kitchen and help yourselves to a glass of bubbly. The others are in there already. Debbie and Theresa are sorting out the food; dinner is nearly ready.”

When I’d seen Nikki/Debbie heading for a train, I’d been struck by her fabulous figure — whoever she was. I was unnervingly reminded of this as we followed Nikki into the house; I watched her backside wiggling provocatively in her royal blue silk mini-dress and showing all her bodily attributes to perfection. Altogether, a gorgeous figure, with smooth, tanned legs that many women would kill for. My mind wasn’t the fastest thing on earth and it took me a few seconds to react to the vision before me.

Hang on! This is Nikki, who is really Nick, and he has breasts, and a figure like that?

Nikki’s sexy walk was enhanced by impossibly high heeled sandals which I’d have found totally impractical, but with which she appeared to have no problem at all. I felt decidedly inferior in the presence of this stunningly beautiful woman. Somewhere in the deep recesses of my brain, the question had festered; it chose that moment to raise itself in my consciousness. Just how did Nick transform so easily into Nikki - or was it the other way around?

The kitchen was huge, with modern oak furniture and stainless steel appliances. It led through an archway into a dining room, with a table which could easily seat a dozen people. Debbie smiled a greeting as she, and a dark-haired girl who looked like she’d just entered college, and who she introduced as Theresa, took items from an oven. We were all given little tasks, and Judy and I ended up ferrying dishes of vegetables to the dining room. Nikki served as wine waitress and as we had all been pre-warned to arrive by taxi, we became merrier and more relaxed as the night wore on and the Latham’s wine cellar became more depleted.

After introductions all round, the conversation ranged from our dresses, hair and makeup, via our jobs to our histories. Eventually, inevitably, we were all asked about relationships and Judy, under the influence of half a bottle of wine, revealed more than she’d intended about Kevin’s prowess in the horizontal tango. Joanna, despite the wine, was still a little reticent about her Kevin’s performance; her smile, though, said much more than she put into words.

Angela dwarfed everyone else in the room, and had legs that seemed to go on forever. She and Suzanne, who were both very beautiful women, didn’t say much at all but their intimate glances, and the fact that you’d have been challenged to slide a piece of tissue paper between the two of them all evening, spoke volumes about how they felt about each other. I soon realised that I’d got them totally wrong; they were by no means the typical ‘Dominant/submissive’ couple I’d imagined.

I did my best to surreptitiously deflect the conversation; by and large, I think I succeeded. Nikki occasionally glanced at me but I didn’t feel that the glances were at all suggestive.

I knew that they worked together, but Theresa and Debbie didn’t appear to be an item. I had no idea about their sexual orientation and any partners they might have. They didn’t mention it and I didn’t pry.

All too soon, the evening drew to a close. Nikki and Debbie wouldn’t hear of us helping to clear up and said that they would deal with it. Taxis were called, hugs were shared, cheeks were kissed and we all headed home. All, that is, except Nikki and Debbie, whose house it was.

In the taxi, I tried to make conversation, but struggled to find the words.

Judy helped me out when she said, “Thanks for arranging that; it was fun!”

Back home, I realised that I’d really enjoyed the evening, having met some new people and had a good time. I think that what helped enormously was the fact that there were a number of us; ‘safety in numbers’ sprang to mind. I was sure that I’d have struggled with a smaller group.

In the office the following Monday, I did the usual coffee run and placed a cup in front of Nick. Curled up as usual under a mountain of paper, he smiled a ‘thank you’ at me and asked if we’d enjoyed the dinner.

I settled for “Thank you; we both enjoyed it very much, particularly meeting new people.”

Then he surprised me with “Debbie really likes you.”

Apart from “Oh”, I had no idea what to say. I stood there for ten seconds or so as though struck dumb. Then I mumbled something about ‘work to do’ and escaped. I returned to my desk and sat down, burying my head in my hands.

Cathy Hungerford, of all people, chose that moment to walk past. She hesitated. “Jackie?”

“I think I’ve a headache coming on. You don’t have some Paracetamol by any chance?”

She returned a few moments later and slipped a packet of pain relief tablets into my hand. “You know I’m not supposed to do this — but I didn’t anyway.”

“Thanks ever so much.”

“Sure you’ll be alright?”

“Give me a few minutes — and thanks again for the tablets which you didn’t give me.” I suppose that lightened the mood a little and we exchanged weak smiles before I scooted off to the water cooler in the lift lobby and downed a couple of the pills. I then went to the ladies’ room and locked myself into a cubicle.

Talk about having your life turned upside down. I vowed after Eddie that I’d have nothing more to do with relationships; instead, I appear to have the company lawyer coming on to me. I know they fascinated me when I saw them — well, him… her…one of them - at the station, but this was a different matter entirely. And why didn’t she say anything herself? Don’t tell me she’s shy, I don’t believe it. You don’t get to be a lawyer without having some … Oh, I don’t know.

And what about Nick/Nikki? Did Debbie mention her feelings or did Nikki just pick up on it? And why didn’t I pick up on it? And I still don’t know if Nick’s a she or Nikki is a he - or something.

I used to be uncertain, but now I’m just not sure

I almost laughed at the thoughts which were occupying what Hercule Poirot, Agatha Christie’s fictional Belgian detective, would call my “little grey cells”. I can think of better ways for them to be occupied. Sleep would be good - unlikely, but good. Eventually, I couldn’t hide away anymore — even though I just wanted to go home and lose myself in sleep. I returned to my desk and shuffled papers for a while, to try and get myself back into the swing of things.

Maggie Wood, one of the Sales Executives, asked for some help putting together a presentation for a sales pitch, and so Powerpoint managed to keep me occupied for the rest of the day. I escaped - well, it felt like an escape - at the usual time and headed for the bus stop and home.

Judy must have seen that I was preoccupied all evening because she kept glancing in my direction. It got to the stage where I was looking for something fragile to smash. When I started to look upon the television as a potential target, I said goodnight and retired to my room.

Sleep didn’t come easily, even though I was tired, and kept yawning. I just couldn’t get Debbie, and Nick’s remarks, out of my mind. By two o’clock I was still restless and turned on my little television to look for a movie; I thought it might take my mind off things.

I woke at seven in the morning and realised that I must have fallen asleep at some point. I turned off the television and got out of bed. I could hear Judy moving about, so I found a cotton wrap and headed for the kitchen.

Over breakfast, she asked me what was wrong the previous day. How do I explain? Where do I start? “It’s complicated.”

She rested a hand on mine. “Do you want to talk about it?”

I’d already confided in her that I’d split from Eddie, but not all the gory details. I told her the rest of the story of my brief but disastrous marriage and she winced. Getting up, she came over and hugged me.

“Just give my Kevin the tip and we’ll make sure Eddie loses any interest in fathering children.”

“Don’t be silly; it’s not all his fault, he just didn’t have the patience to deal with it. The serious blame should be with my family, especially my parents.”

“Well, we’ll look after you.”

“Thanks, but you’ll be off with Kevin soon and then I’ll have to make… other arrangements.”

“We haven’t worked anything out yet so there’s plenty of time. And, as I said, we’ll look after you.”

“Thanks.” Then I promptly burst into tears. “It’s more difficult than that.”

“Oh?”

“Nick gave me a message yesterday; Debbie likes me.”

“That’s a good thing, isn’t it?”

“No, you don’t understand. Debbie really likes me.”

“Oh,” she said.

“Yes; Oh.”

“What does that mean?”

“Does she fancy me or what?”

Judy took my hand across the table. ”What do you think of Debbie?”

“I dunno. Alright, I suppose.”

“Do you fancy her?”

“Judy!”

“Well I only asked!”

We cleared the breakfast things, dressed, and headed for the office.

The subject of Debbie didn’t come up again that week, thank goodness. I carefully avoided Nick except where strictly necessary and kept our conversations to the essential minimum.

I was grateful that Nick was on his travels for a few days, and visitors to the department were few and far between. One of the few was Ian Hazelton, the Distribution Manager.

Ian’s department ensured that the warehouses had enough stock to meet the fluctuating demand that seemed to characterise our products. He was a regular visitor to our team, and I would say I was fairly comfortable with him as a colleague. Most men were okay — as long as I was surrounded by friends. Of course, I didn’t count Richard and Anthony in this — they’re special, perhaps because I didn’t view them as a possible threat.

On Friday morning, Ian had a long meeting with Cathy — who ran the department when Nick was away - and stopped at my desk on his way back to the second floor.

“Hello Jackie; so the boy wonder is on his travels?”

“Hello Ian. Nick’s in Ireland.”

“Look, I realise that this is a bit sudden, but would you like to go out for dinner one evening?”

Thunk — right between the eyes

I hope he didn’t notice my shudder, as memories of Eddie courting me flooded my mind. I’d no idea what to say so just came out with “Err… Can I think about it?”

He smiled, sheepishly.

“Of course. But I do find you extremely attractive. Every time I come up here I look out for you especially.”

“Oh.”

He smiled, and then left.

I didn’t know what to think. Ian was alright as a colleague, but could I feel comfortable with him on a date — would you call it a date? I suppose I ought to feel flattered; all I felt was panic. I started to shake and, once more, beat a hasty retreat to that sanctuary of sanctuaries, the ladies room, where I locked myself in a cubicle and dissolved into floods of tears. Cried? I didn’t know that one person could produce quite so much fluid from their tear ducts.

I obviously lingered a bit too long. I heard the main door open and Cathy’s voice ask, “Jackie?”

I calmed down to an occasional mild hiccough and a whimper, sighed and quietly acknowledged her. “In here.”

“Do you want to talk?”

I eventually opened the door of the cubicle and walked over to the wash-basin. My eyes were very red and I was still emotionally near the edge. Cathy smiled gently and held me as I ran down to an occasional snivel.

As I washed my face, dried my hands and did my best to repair my damaged makeup, she gently asked again, “We could go into the playpen, or find some other quiet office where we won’t be disturbed. Only if you want to.”

I sighed again and realised that I’d worked with Cathy for some time, but still knew nothing about her. At one time, I had thought that she was Nick’s significant other. Then I thought she might be a lesbian, but I didn’t see any sign of interest in the other women in the office. Now I was too confused to work out what I thought she was. I nodded, and then followed her to Nick’s office, grabbing a cup of water on the way.

I was very grateful when she lowered the blinds and slid the door sign to ‘Meeting in Progress’, a sure indication to everyone; ‘Do Not Disturb Except in an emergency’.

We sat and she said nothing, just giving me space. I realised that it was up to me to open the conversation. “As you may know, I’m single.”

“I thought you were divorced?”

“No — the marriage was annulled.”

A nod and a gentle smile urged me to go on.

I sighed. “We… didn’t get on; I suppose it was my fault.”

She leaned forward and put a hand on mine. “You don’t have to say any more if it’s painful.”

I smiled weakly. “Somehow, I think it might help to talk about it. But I know nothing about you, other than that Nick thinks you’re indispensable.”

She laughed. “I’m just one of a team; we support each other, and the sum of our strengths makes us the best team in the Company.”

“No wonder we’re so successful.” I faltered, not really knowing what to say, or how much.

She sat upright. “I’m twenty-eight, comfortably single and not really bothered about a relationship, although if it happens, it happens. I’ve loads of friends and lead a full social life. I’m not really bothered that, in ten years or so, my biological clock will be nearing the end of its battery life; in fact, I’m looking forward to it. How’s that for starters?”

Now it’s my turn; I’m still dreading this, despite Cathy’s efforts to put me at ease

I began hesitantly. “Okay. I’m twenty-five, briefly and disastrously married and parted, not sure if I could rake up the courage to embark on another relationship, fascinated beyond all reason by Nick and now have Ian Hazelton trying to date me. Oh, and Debbie Latham really likes me — whatever that may mean.”

“Oh dear; not easy.”

I laughed, mirthlessly. “No. I’d about resigned myself to a lonely single life; now I seem to have more friends than I’ve had hot dinners, and appear to have at least two people of different genders trying to get off with me.”

“How do you feel about Ian?”

“He seems okay as a colleague but I’m scared of him; it may be stupid, but that’s the way it is. He’s very different from Nick, but that’s not surprising, is it? And I don’t know whether he’s different ‘good’ or different ‘bad’. And most men would have me wanting to run a mile if they even smiled at me.”

“And Debbie?”

“I’m scared there, too.”

“Why?”

“Scared I’ll like being with her. She doesn’t seem like a threat — not like… when I was younger.”

“Has Nick shown any interest?”

I suddenly felt sick. “No, of course not; I mean, he’s gay, isn’t he?”

“Not necessarily, and it does seem to matter what you mean by gay. Look; I probably wouldn’t be far out if I guessed, but do you want to talk about it?”