Please Sir (2) “Nothing,” he repeated rapidly. “Come on, let’s go get some lunch.” Wordlessly, she followed him back to his car. “Hey Veronica, can I have a word?” Veronica was busily writing up her 200 words about the mayor when Cara called her over. Cara had never been particularly friendly towards her, but she’d also never been bitchy, which was more than Veronica could say for several of the other members of staff, who appeared to have taken an instant dislike to her for some unknown (but sure to be unbelievably petty) reason. “Something wrong?” Veronica hovered above Cara’s bent head, watching as she looked up at Veronica with an easy smile on an exceptionally beautiful Italian face. Veronica wanted to be Cara. 24, gorgeous, clever and the most talented journalist on the staff. Or at least she gave the impression of being the most talented. However, if she was, then Veronica couldn’t understand how she could stand it in this little hick town. Especially considering the fact that she didn’t even come from around here originally, she was from Manchester. Why go out of your way to come here? “No, I just wanted to ask you about this guy.” One of Cara’s prefect French-manicured talons tapped on Dave’s picture. “This guy is really a teacher?” “Yep,” Veronica nodded, feeling slightly possessive. “God, why couldn’t we have teachers like that at high school?” Cara sighed lustfully. “Actually, I did have him as a teacher when I was in high school,” Veronica couldn’t resist boasting. It had the desired effect - Cara’s face became slightly envious. “Really? You are so lucky. He’s certainly easy on the eye, isn’t he? Maybe I’ll invent an excuse to go and see him sometime.” “Thought you had a boyfriend,” Veronica said quickly. “Yeah, but . . .” Cara looked sad for a moment, then smiled. “You can still look, can’t you?” “Veronica!” Eddie bellowed from his office door. Veronica jumped out of her skin. “You’d better go, his lordship is calling.” Cara rolled her big brown eyes. “Listen, we should get together for a drink sometime. Maybe next week. What do you think?” “Um - sure,” Veronica mumbled. She wondered if this had anything to with Dave. But, of course, Cara didn’t know she actually was on friendly terms with him now. Anyway, if Cara wanted to have a drink with her, who was she to complain. “You finished the story?” Eddie asked her. “Just putting the finishing touches to it,” Veronica replied, resisting the urge to salute him and shout “Sir, yes Sir” at the top of her lungs. “And have you looked over the Santana column?” “Yes, it looks fine,” Veronica was glad to be one step ahead of him for a change. “Maybe you should get someone else to look over it as well though, just to get a second opinion.” “Cara, can you check the Santana column?” Eddie yelled across the room. Cara stuck her thumb up in agreement. “Veronica, take her the column to look at.” “This is always a treat,!” Cara said, taking the column from Veronica. “Alexia Santana deserves an award for this column, I’m telling you.” Veronica nodded, unsure whether or not to agree. She was slightly dubious about the phenomenon that was the improbably named Alexia Santana. All anyone knew was that, since about January that year, the newspaper had received a column length article from someone calling themselves Alexia Santana (whether or not this was a pseudonym was as yet unclear). The person left no address, and thus expected no payment, a new column arrived every Thursday morning without fail, and it was the most popular page in the newspaper. Ms Santana had the kind of recognition that Veronica wanted - obviously it was only local recognition and Roni wanted more than to be well known in Garnsburgh, but it would be a start to be recognised for her talent within the walls of this office. “I suppose it would be impossible to give someone an award who doesn’t appear to exist,” Cara continued, staring thoughtfully at the opening lines of the column. “Have you seen the letter page recently? Everyone’s dying to know who Alexia Santana really is, and why she isn’t working for some big magazine. She could make a fortune, and yet here she is sending column after column to us, free of charge.” “It might not be a she,” Veronica pointed out timidly. “Could be a guy. And, for all we know, it could be plagiarised from some other source.” “Nah, I doubt it, this seems pretty original to me. And as for Alexia being a bloke - I seriously doubt it, I really can’t see a bloke tackling an issue like abortion so sensitively. And that funny column that comes in once a month - about the ongoing struggle to find a decent man - I really don’t believe a guy can write truthfully from a woman’s point of view.” Cara put the article down and stared into space, twirling a long lock of thick raven-black hair around her finger. “I would love to know the truth about this writer.” She redirected her gaze to Veronica. “Why don’t you try to get to the bottom of it, I’ve always thought you’d be good at investigating that sort of stuff. And Eddie would have to let you write a decent story then, wouldn’t he?” Veronica flushed, both at the compliment, and the fact that Cara obviously knew how she felt about her job. Cara laughed. “I know how it is, I’ve been there,” she said warmly. “Just hang in there, okay, it does get better with time. I’ll talk to you later, okay? And think about the Santana thing.” “Sure.” Veronica walked back to her desk, leaving Cara to peruse the Santana article in greater depth, surprised that, for the second time in less than five minutes, the great Cara Marini had engaged her in friendly conversation, after four months of virtual silence. As for her trying to find out who Alexia Santana really was . . . not a chance. She loathed Alexia Santana’s fame and good fortune. If Alexia, whoever she/he was had went round all the papers and magazines trying to get a job, the way that Veronica had to, she bet she wouldn’t have got the time of day either. But the sneaky way in which she had worked her way into the hearts of the Garnsburgh public - it just made Veronica wonder what the point was in “hanging in there.” Life was unfair, and that was all there was to it. Being a star reporter was destined to remain just a dream - relegated to the same unrealistic world where she and Dave Michaels were a hot couple. Two The Sister from Hell - Louise Davidson, seventeen years old, world class cow The lamp illuminating the Davidson’s hallway toppled over with a crash as Louise Davidson stumbled through the door. Telling it to hush rather hysterically, she tripped over it and fell flat on her face. “Louise! What are you playing at?” Veronica hissed from halfway up the stairs. She’d stayed up late reading in bed and had heard Louise’s feet on the gravel outside almost twenty minutes before. Sadistically, she’d watched from her bedroom window as Louise, shivering violently in her thin clothes, had spent that time emptying the contents of her bag onto the ground in a desperate search for the doorkeys that she had eventually found hidden in the depths of her jacket pocket. “Just coming throguh the door,” Louise slurred drunkenly, lifting her head off the floor to squint at Veronica’s disapproving face. The head flopped back down, her words becoming even more unintelligible as now they were muffled. “What are you up tp?” “I’m watching my baby sister making an arse of herself,” Veronica replied crisply. Taking pity on her, she helped Louise to her feet and lead her into the kitchen. “Come on, I’ll make you some hot chocolate, you’re in a bit of a state.” Once ensconsed in the kitchen, she studied Louise carefully as she waited for the kettle to boil. Her sister’s dark eye make-up had smudged under her eyes, her lipstick had faded away to leave only an outline of her stay-put lipliner. Her stylish vest top and micromini were even more revealing than they had been when she left the house six hours previously - the skirt had inched its way up by drastic lengths, the top was revealing most of her bright pink Wonderbra. On top of all that, the four inch platform heel was missing off one of her sandals. “My God!” Veronica exclaimed. “How did you manage to walk?” “I didn’t. I pretty much crawled home,” Louise admitted, unfastening the ankle straps of the cursed shoes and easing her feet out of them. “I couldn’t even afford to get a taxi.” “You’re lucky you didn’t wake mum up,” Veronica admonished, spooning hot chocolate powder into two mugs. “Its three in the morning, you’d have been finished!” Their mother was a positively a religious fanatic when it came to getting her eight hours beauty sleep. “I would not!” Louise denied matter-of-factly. “Mum lets me away with murder, you know that as well as I do.” Only too well, Veronica thought bitterly. At seventeen., she had been forbidden to go anywhere that was over 18s only, had a curfew of eleven, and her parents had insisted on meeting any potential friends in order to see whether they were good enought ot be associated with the Davidson family. They’d been slightly more lenient with Keri and now, an incredibly noisy divorce and a scandal later, they could no longer be bothered to make a fuss of Louise’s nocturnal habits. It was unfair - but Veronica supposed it was the standard story in all families with more than one child. And, in a way, that reassured Veronica that her family was not as abnormal and eccentric as she thought. She added hot water to the mugs and then automatically headed to the fridge for the squirty cream that Louise loved on top of her hot drinks.She’d been through enough of these late night (or early morning) sessions to know the exact requirements of Louise’s perfect hot chocolate. She often got up when she heard Louise come home from a drunken night out especially for the purpose of making it for her knowing that, for Louise, the post-clubbing hot cholocate was the closest to a routine she would ever get, and unwilling to give her the opportunity of scalding herself, or worse. “Here you go.” Louise took the proferred mug and held it in her iceblock hands, staring blankly at it as if unsure what to do with it. Veronica took a small sip of her own drink and sighed in delight as it warmed up her body, Louise was being unusually silent. “You okay?” Roni asked, glancing quickly at her. “Fine,” Louise murmured and Roni noticed a smug smile curving her clown lips. “Just fine.” Sticking out a very pink tongue, she gathered some cream on it and closed her mouth back over it. “Mmm,” she sighed blissfully, leaning back and lifting her legs up onto the table. Veronica dug around in the fridge for some food, but there was nothing. Tomorrow was her mother’s weekly shop, the day before was always famine-like in comparison to the shopping day. “Where do I go to get the morning after pill?” Veronica froze, her head still inside the fridge. She couldn’t have heard that right, could she? “Erm - what?” she asked unsure what she was expected to say in answer to this. She grabbed a moulding carrot and absent-mindedly starting chewing on it. Louise repeated her question, word for word. Veronica hadn’t misheard. “Um - you had sex?” Veronica closed the fridge and leant against it for support. “No, I just want to take the morning after pill for the fun of it, I heard it gives you a real buzz,” Louise replied, voice heavily laced with sarcasm. And more than a slight hint of superiority. Louise was nowhere near as naive as Veronica had been at seventeen and she loved to shock her sister by regaling her with tales of the escapades she and her friends were currently involved in. But sex had never entered the equation - until now. When they were younger, all thre Davidson girls would chat for hours about sex - what did it feel like, would you feel different afterwards, what if a guy had a really big - “one” giggle giggle; how would they manage to fit it in? But, as they reached an age where they actually felt ready to “do the deed”, then the subject became more embarrassing, except to discuss with your friends of course. It wasn’t so much that Roni expected Louise tobe a virgin. In fact, she would have been more surprised if ttonight had been her first time. Louise had always been early to start things - 6 weeks premature, from then on her first word, first step, first period had arrived unexpectedly way before scheduled. It was only fitting that she’d started having sex early. Like at about eight years old. Anyway, the awkward aspect of this situation was rooted firmly in the fact that Veronica simply did not feel comfortable with the topic Louise had brought up, especially as Louise was probably far more knowledgable in this field, not to mention infinitely more experienced. “Well? Do you know or don’t you?” Louise knocked back a large gulp of her drink and then winced at the scorching heat of it, fanning her mouth frantically. “Shit, I’m gonna get blisters,” she muttered. Roni knew her sister and so she knew one thing with absolute, unwavering certainty - Louise knew very well where she could obtain the necessary pill. This “discussion” was just her way of showcasing her experience, a more subtle way of bragging. But she refused to rise to the bait. She never had, at least not obviously enough for Louise to notice. “How about the woman’s clinic around the corner?” she suggested. “And if they can’t help, I’m sure they’ll be able to put you in touch with someone who can.” “You mean, you’re not sure?” Louise was testing her. “Haven’t you ever had sex?” “I’m just not irresponsible, “ Veronica shrugged, neatly dodging the question and making sure that her tone rammed home the point that Louise was quite the opposite. Her sister had no business prying into her sex life, or lack of one, simply because she was all-too willing to share hers with anyone who cared to hear it. “Yeah, yeah.” Louise stood up, grabbed her drink and headed for the living room, closely followd by Veronica who was dying of curiosity by this point. Who was this mystery man of Louise’s? she wondered, her mind frantically flipping through the names of all the guys who had spent any time in Louise’s favour. “So, where were you tonight?” she asked faux-casually. Apart from in some bloke’s bed, she added silently. In fact, maybe Louise hadn’t been anywhere but in bed. Or maye she hadn’t even had sex in a bed. Public toilets, local parks and even the changing cubicle in the nearest Miss Selfridge had been subjected to Louise’s adventurous side. “Oh, me and Juli headed for the Crown,” Louise said airliy. “The usual - thought we’d have the standard girly night. “Pub crawl followed by clubbing till you drop, right?” “You got it, babes!” “And after the Crown?” “Well, we - um - ran into some acquaintances.” Louise took on a coy look, her bright blue eyes alive with a michevious sparkle. She was obviously dying to say more but was trying to hold out for as long as she could manage it. Which was guaranteed to be not very long at all. “Got separated, Juli went off with one of them, so I left with one of the others. And he was something special all right.” “Tell me more,” Roni urged. “Like, how special was he exactly.”
Copyright © 2000 Paula M Shackleford |