The Mince Pie Mix-Up (11 page)

‘Um …’ Judy started to rifle through the papers on Calvin’s desk, hoping the answer would jump out at her. Her hesitation only infuriated Perry further. His chubby face started to turn purple, making him resemble a large plum. ‘Can you give me a minute?’

‘You’ve got thirty seconds to get your act together, Neil. I’ll be in my office.’ Perry stormed out of the room, almost wrenching the door from its hinges.

Okay, maybe stepping into Calvin’s work shoes wasn’t going to be quite as easy as she’d thought.

The allotted thirty seconds passed far more quickly than Judy would have liked. She rifled through the papers on the desk some more but found neither the answer to Perry’s question nor the desk calendar. But whether she had the answer or not, she had to go and see Perry as she feared what the outcome would be if she disobeyed his order.

With trembling legs, Judy made her way to Perry’s office, knocking timidly at the door. She tried to channel Calvin’s confidence but it wasn’t forthcoming and so it was a jelly-like Judy who stepped into the boss’s office.

‘Well?’ Perry barked before she’d even got her toes over the threshold. ‘The photo shoot?’

Judy crept into the room, closing the door behind her and sitting down opposite the red-faced Perry.

‘The thing is …’ she began, only to falter when she couldn’t think what the ‘thing’ could be. She could hardly come clean and admit that she didn’t have a clue about the photo shoot as she wasn’t really Calvin Neil and was, in fact, his wife.

‘The thing is,’ she repeated, hoping inspiration would strike. It did not.

‘
Just tell me what’s happening with the Benvenuti photo shoot, you moronic tit!
’ Perry was practically foaming at the mouth as he leaned towards Judy, his bulging eyes bright white against his purple face.

Judy cleared her throat. ‘The thing is …’

‘I don’t give a flying
shit
about the
thing
.’ Perry threw up his arms, catapulting a bunch of papers into the air. They fluttered to the floor, fanning themselves out along the carpet. ‘The photo shoot, Neil. Is it on or off?’ He slammed his fist down on the desk, catching the end of a stapler and sending it flying through the air where it clattered against the windowpane (thankfully without damaging it), bounced off the sill and landed with a thud on the floor. The stapler flipped open and upended its staples, scattering them across the carpet like confetti.

‘Well …’ Judy took a wild guess that the words ‘I don’t know’ would see her meeting the same fate as the contents of Perry’s desk. Luckily a knock at the door prevented her from having to utter them.

‘What is it, Sarah?’ Perry barked as a pretty face poked its head into the office.

Sarah was out of breath when she answered. ‘The guys said you were asking about the photo shoot.’ She thrust a thumb back towards the main office. ‘So I came to let you know that it’s been rescheduled. For Friday.’

‘Friday?’ Judy and Sarah both jumped as Perry’s voice boomed. ‘
Friday?
We have Benvenuti himself coming in for the presentation on Friday.’ Perry’s left eye started to tick. Francesco Benvenuti liked to pop into the office whenever it took his fancy. He liked to know every little thing that was going on with the campaign, which was fair enough, Perry had to concede. He was paying them a shed load of money, after all. But what wasn’t okay was the fact he wanted every little thing presented to him, like Elizabeth I demanding a performance from Shakespeare.

‘I can reschedule,’ Sarah offered, which earned her a string of expletives that she and Judy took as a big, fat no.

‘You’ll have to go to the photo shoot,’ Perry told Sarah with a decisive nod of his head. ‘Calvin, you can cope with the presentation, can’t you?’

‘Yes.’ Now was not the time for Judy to falter. She’d annoyed Calvin’s boss enough and feared his head would explode if he was provoked any further.

‘That’s settled then. You …’ – he pointed at Sarah as he rose from his desk – ‘clean this mess up.’ Making a sweeping gesture at the papers and staples on the floor, he strode out of the office. Sarah visibly deflated with relief as he disappeared from view, but it would take a lot longer for Judy to recover.

‘Let me do that,’ Judy offered as Sarah dropped to her knees on the carpet and began gathering the papers. ‘It’s my fault they ended up on the floor.’

‘It’s my fault he’s in such a rage about the photo shoot in the first place,’ Sarah said.

Judy joined Sarah on the floor and plucked the segments of staplers from the carpet. ‘We’ll do it together then.’

Judy was exhausted – both physically and emotionally – when she finally made it home that evening. It was such a relief to find that tea was almost ready as the thought of spending the evening cooking filled her with dread. She wanted to eat, have a bath and go to bed.

‘How was your day?’ Calvin asked as she joined him in the kitchen.

Judy opened the fridge and pulled out a bottle of wine. ‘What do you think?’ She shook the bottle at Calvin and he smiled.

‘My life isn’t as easy as you think, is it?’

‘I never said your life was easy.’ Judy grabbed a glass from the cupboard and filled it to the brim. ‘I just wanted you to appreciate that mine was no picnic either.’

‘If it’s any consolation, my day hasn’t been all that great.’ Calvin pulled out the grill and turned the sausages. ‘Charlie told her teacher that her dad likes to wear make-up and women’s clothes.’ Judy pressed her lips together to suppress a smile. ‘Which isn’t even a little bit funny. I also had a bit of a thing with that snooty cow who’s going on a cruise.’

‘Abby Frost.’ Judy took a sip of wine, savouring its chilly goodness as it slipped down her throat. ‘You’re better off ignoring her.’

‘Hmm, easier said than done.’ Calvin started setting the table and smiled appreciatively when Judy gave him a hand. ‘I also had my bum pinched by a randy pensioner at work.’

Judy suppressed another smile. ‘Ah, Norman Greene.’

‘What is that about? Does he do that all the time?’

Judy gave a shrug. ‘He can be a bit hands-y.’

‘I don’t like it.’ Calvin removed the chips from the oven and started to dish them up. ‘I shouldn’t have to put up with that.
You
shouldn’t have to put up with that.’

‘He means no harm.’ Judy topped up her glass and sat down at the table. ‘I try to ignore him.’

‘Hmm.’ Calvin added the sausages to the plates together with a helping of baked beans. ‘I’m not sure I’ll be able to do that.’

‘It’s been a bit of an eye-opener, hasn’t it?’ Judy asked.

‘It certainly has.’ Calvin was utterly exhausted. He was beginning to suspect that he may have been a little misguided when he’d said that Judy had it easy. ‘How many more days until this wish is over?’

Chapter Twelve:
Monday Night Blues

Calvin’s tongue poked out of the corner of his mouth as he attempted to pin pieces of shiny, slippery material together the way Judy had demonstrated before she’d buggered off to the pub to play pool with his mates. With a little bartering, the pair had agreed to help each other out. Judy had given Calvin a quick sewing lesson in exchange for marketing information, particularly with the Benvenuti campaign in mind. Calvin had suggested that Sarah take over the presentation on Friday as she’d done the majority of the research and knew her stuff, but that was no longer possible as Sarah would be away from the office at the photo shoot.

Calvin was scared about what would happen to both his job and his marriage if the Benvenuti campaign, which he’d worked his bollocks off for, went tits up on Friday.

‘Your boss is awful,’ Judy had complained as she’d demonstrated the art of threading a needle that evening. ‘He swears all the time. It’s disgusting. Plus, he kept checking up on me every twenty minutes as though I’m incompetent. And you’d have thought I was siphoning off the company’s stationery when I asked for a new pen.’

‘At least you weren’t molested.’ Calvin had been trying and failing to thread his own needle. Judy made it look so simple.

‘No, there is that.’ Judy grinned at Calvin as she took the needle from him and threaded it in a split second. How did she do that? It was witchcraft.

‘What do I do now?’

Judy demonstrated a small running stitch. It looked easy peasy.

It wasn’t.

Why weren’t Calvin’s stitches neat and straight like Judy’s were when he was copying her exactly?

‘What are you doing?’ Calvin, panicked, looked down at Judy’s sewing, which she’d abandoned on the coffee table.

‘I’m off to the pub. Don’t wait up, darling.’

So now Calvin was on his own, haphazardly putting together extra costumes for the nativity play. There had been a baby boom in the village apparently, meaning the school needed more costumes but was too miserly to pay for them. But it was quite nice to be actually sitting down for a change, actually. For the past few days, Calvin had been running around after everybody else. If he wasn’t baking or serving in the tea room, he was ferrying the kids to school or football and ballet. And then when he got home he had to cook while putting on loads of washing, feeding the dog and helping with homework. It was relentless.

A door slamming upstairs put Calvin’s teeth on edge. His son moved about the house like a large herd of elephants, causing noise and havoc wherever he went. Putting down his sewing, Calvin headed up the stairs and opened his son’s bedroom door. The whiff of sweaty socks almost knocked him back down the stairs again.

‘Can you keep it down? Your sister’s in bed.’ Calvin’s eyes widened as he took in Scott’s bedroom. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen it with the light on and was dismayed at the carnage before him. Dirty clothes hung from every surface while mouldy mugs loitered about the place and uncased X-Box games, DVDs and what Calvin assumed was homework were abandoned in various spots around the room.

‘What have you done to this place?’ Calvin braved the stench and stepped inside the room, crossing to the window, which he flung open wide.

‘What?’ Scott glanced around his room, his eyebrows low in confusion.

‘What?’ Calvin laughed, assuming his child was joking. It turned out he wasn’t. ‘Look around you! There is filth everywhere! Get those mugs washed, put your washing in the laundry basket and
tidy up
.’

‘What, now?’ Scott apparently had more important things to do, a fact that was disguised by his lounging position on the bed with nothing but his iPod distracting him.

‘Yes, now.’ Calvin backed out of the room, breathing in the fresh air in the hallway. His son was a pig. An absolute pig. Why did Judy let him get away with living like that?

Judy didn’t get her relaxing bubble bath that evening and instead made her way into the White Swan, where she found Curtis and Pierce already around the pool table. Judy bought a round, making sure she ordered a pint for herself this time. She was tempted to order a half as she’d already worked her way through two rather large glasses of wine during tea, but she wasn’t sure how well that would go down with Curtis.

‘Isn’t Richie coming tonight?’ Pierce asked when she returned with the drinks. She shrugged her shoulders while Curtis’s usually animated face dimmed.

‘It’s a bit hard for him to get out at the moment. You know, since the Danielle thing.’

‘What Danielle thing?’ Judy picked up a pool cue, rubbing the end with the cube of blue chalk. She hadn’t played pool since her days in the Students’ Union bar and she’d only played then so she could flirt with Calvin. She’d loved the feel of his body pressed against hers as he leaned over her to demonstrate how to take each shot.

It had been a long time since they’d done anything flirty.

‘You know.’ Curtis cleared his throat and looked down at the ground. ‘The miscarriage.’

All thoughts of fun and flirtiness left Judy’s mind. ‘Richie’s wife had a miscarriage?’ Poor Richie. Poor Danielle. ‘When?’

‘Last month.’ Curtis grabbed the white ball and placed it in the semicircle at the end of the pool table. ‘Didn’t he tell you?’

‘Yes, but I forgot.’ Judy cringed.
She forgot?

Curtis shook his head. ‘You’re all heart, Calvin.’ He lined up his shot and struck the cue ball, scattering the reds and yellows at the other end of the table. ‘Anyway, Pierce. How did it go with Jessica? She looked fit.’

‘Not good, mate. Not good.’ Pierce filled them in on his date last night, which consisted of a meal followed by the cinema.

‘She made me pay for the food and the film – which she picked. Bloody chick flick – and then wouldn’t give me as much as a kiss at the end of the night. Frigid cow.’

‘Maybe she isn’t frigid at all,’ Judy suggested. ‘Maybe she just has standards.’

‘What do you mean?’

Judy moved around the table, deciding which shot was the best –
easiest
– to attempt. ‘Maybe she wants to take things slowly. Not all girls want to jump into bed on the first date.’

‘Like he said,’ Curtis piped up. ‘Frigid.’

Pierce laughed. Judy did not. She took her shot, whacking the ball with too much force and not nearly enough precision.

‘Not frigid, no. Sensible.’ She straightened as the balls scattered after her silly shot, none of her balls – and luckily none of Curtis’s – sinking into the pockets. ‘Are you going to see her again?’

Pierce shrugged his shoulders. ‘Probably not.’

‘There you go then.’ Judy flashed a triumphant grin. ‘Why should she kiss you – let alone anything else – when you’re not actually interested in getting to know her?’

‘He doesn’t want to get to know the bird,’ Curtis said, lining up his next shot. ‘He wants to get laid.’

Judy resisted the urge to lodge her pool cue up Curtis’s arsehole as he bent over the table. ‘Then good on Jessica for resisting his charms.’

‘You’re a right boring bastard lately,’ Curtis said but Pierce seemed to be mulling her words over. If only for a few seconds before he belched and cracked himself and Curtis up.

Judy somehow managed to make it through the rest of the evening. They were joined by the rest of the pub’s pool team, apart from Richie, and Judy thought she held her own at pool, even if she didn’t actually win any of the games. Luckily, the team didn’t have any matches on until after Christmas, which was a relief.