Belle Henderson - We Can Work It Out

BELLE HENDERSON

&

CJ MORROW

Copyright: Belle Henderson& CJ Morrow 2019

Tamarillas Press

All Rights Reserved. No part ofthis publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronicor mechanical, including photocopy, recording, or any information storage andretrieval system, without permission from the author.

This book is a work of fiction.All characters, locations, businesses, organisations and situations in this publicationare either a product of the authors imagination or used fictitiously. Anyresemblance to real persons, living or dead, or circumstances, is purelycoincidental.

Cover images: Belle Henderson,CJ Morrow

Cover design: Amy-Rose Mayes

Emily

Hey, hows it going? You allready for your big day?

No, no Im not. Impanicking, Sab. I appraise myself in my wardrobe mirror. I dont feelcomfortable at all. This outfit is just all wrong! I stare at my reflectionwith my phone wedged between my neck and shoulder. The nerves are really settingin now.

Its a bit late foroutfit changes now darling, you have to leave soon, Sabrina says gently.

The shirt you lentme, its bit small. I mean I love it, but its just a bit I pull at the gapingshirt and try to make it stretch better across my boobs. It doesnt and itsnow exposing some of my bra.

Im wearing a blackskirt suit with a white, very tight, shirt and some black high heels that aresmart but I wouldnt wear them on a night out. Im not wearing tights, itsautumn but apparently, we are having an Indian summer. Its one of thosegorgeous, crisp, sunny days where the sky is a cloudless bright blue and theleaves are starting to turn golden. Its my absolute favourite time of year, andjust a few months away from Christmas when I can truly spoil my little girl,Rosie. I smile as I remember her excited squeals last year as she came runninginto my room on Christmas morning. Rosie is five, that special age where shestill believes in all things magical such as Santa, the Easter bunny and talkinganimals.

Oh yeah, I boughtthat shirt back in my Atkins diet days, super skinny back then. What are youwearing it with? Sabrina asks as I simultaneously take a photo and send it to her.

Wow, you look gorgeous,love the hair, very professional. The shirt looks fine to me, darling. Theresnothing like flaunting what youve got to get what you want.

Oh hell. Now I feellike a whore.

Im not sure. Its abit inappropriate for an interview, dont you think? I open up my wardrobe andstare at the alternatives. There is a navy-blue shirt but I cant wear that asit will clash with black. I also own a white shirt but it has too many rufflesand looks too flouncy, not serious enough. I have to make an executive decisionand I dont have anything else suitable. I will have to wear this, breathe inall day and just hope I dont burst out of it. Oh, why didnt I check the fitbefore? I could have bought something new. As I do up my jacket buttons, I reassure or delude myself that the jacket should cover most of my modesty.

Its perfect, trustme. Do you have your stuff ready for your presentation?

Yes, Ive printedeverything out, all stapled and good to go.

Why the printing? Isit 1987?

Oh, Im taking mylaptop too. I laugh. If only Sabrina could see the wheelie case Im taking aswell! I used to take it to London when I worked there many years ago and itworked a treat when running for the train, which I often did.

I cant find mymemory stick and Im assuming theyll want to project my presentation onto abig screen, so I have to take the laptop. If not, I can give out handouts. Ithought Id cover all bases, you know. Come to think of it, I last saw Rosieplaying with the memory stick, perhaps shes taken it to my mums by accident.I wouldnt be surprised, she once took our TV remote to school.

Youll be fine, youwill dazzle them with your presentation and your personality. Youve got this,Sabrina encourages against my babbling.

I hope so, I really wantthis job. Its so nerve wracking, I havent had a second interview in years. Ichew on my nails as I think of the possibilities, theres a lot resting onthis. Holidays for Rosie and I, day trips to Legoland and the cinema, maybe aspa day for me and Sab. And finally, the possibility of buying a house of myown. Oh the endless opportunities that come with securing this job. I yearn toearn my own money on a permanent basis and not rely on income solely from himand the government and intermittent temp jobs.

Emily, youll be fine.Youve got this. Its your time to shine.

Thanks, Sab. Illmessage you later.

You better do! Seeyou soon and good luck, not that you need it. Bye.

I end the call whilerummaging through my drawers, still not satisfied with my outfit, I come acrossan old neck scarf. Its black and purple vertical stripes will zhush up my ensemble,inject a bit of colour and hide my obscene cleavage. Perfect, Im finallyready.

Well, ready as Illever be.

Realising I have lessthan ten minutes to go, I reach for the Kalms on my bedside table. These littlegems have become slightly addictive since my husband left me. It takes the edgeoff and I have actually cut down quite a lot on all things recreational in thelast couple of years. When he first left, I was smoking a lot, probably aroundtwenty cigarettes a day if Im honest, and around two or three glasses of winea night, sometimes a bottle if it was a bad day. I took Kalms during the day tokeep me going and help mask what I was going through. I think Ive done prettywell since the dark days. Ive given up smoking and cut way down on the wine, Imonly having about a glass a night now and sometimes I dont have any, so Kalms arereally my only vice and of course Ill give them up eventually. Just once I getthis job. Anyway, theyre herbal, arent they?

My thoughts areinterrupted by a message from Mum showing a photo of Rosie grinning back at thecamera with both hands wrapped around what looks like a massive chocolate doughnut.Mum then messages seconds later. Hmmm interesting breakfast, Mum.

My mum: Nannashouse, nannas rules.

I roll my eyes, chucklingto myself and reply to her choosing to ignore her attempt to wind me up.

Me: Hehe she lookssweet! Leaving in a minute, give Rosie a kiss from me and wish me luck?!

She sends a littlevideo back of Rosie with chocolate smeared all over her face. Good luck Mummy,you are the bestest Mummy.

My heart melts and Isend back three loves hearts. Its just typical that my interview clashes witha teacher training day, otherwise Rosie would have been in school now.

I lock my phone andchuck it into my wheelie case. As I leave my bedroom a thought creeps into my mindthat I now resemble an air hostess.

Positive thinking.Yay, Im about to board the flight to my potential new life!

My neighbours fat, grey, fluffycat is crouched under my car staring at me with such disdain I swear it wantsme dead so it can live under my car forever. We have this confrontation mostdays. Rosie is normally the one who is good at getting rid of it by patting itsbum and shooing it away. Something about it unnerves me and I wont get tooclose.

Hssssssss, Iattempt.

The cat stays put, givingme a contemptuous, defiant look.

Hsssssssssssss, I attemptagain, this time louder while showing my teeth.

It just blinks at me.Time to try a different tactic.

Ruff ruff. Ruffruff. Wow I didnt know I could imitate a dog so well.

The cat just blinksits big, green eyes.

Ruff ruff. Unableto crouch due to the combination of tight shirt and fitted skirt, Im now onall fours, getting down to its level. The rough pavement cuts into my knees andIm glad Im not wearing tights.