Last Chance Saloon - Marian Keyes [53]
‘Jane?’
‘Not Jane. Chain. She’ll sort you.’
‘What’s her real name?’ Joe asked wearily. He’d inadvertently called several of the women by their nicknames since he’d started at Breen Helmsford. Most of them hadn’t seemed to mind, but he had.
‘Pauline,’ Myles said. ‘We call her Chain, because… Well, if I say the words “furry handcuffs”, I think you’ll know what I’m on about…’
‘He fancies the frigid Paddy,’ Fred said bluntly.
‘Who? The Ice Queen?’ Myles said in astonishment. ‘Didn’t know you were into masochism.’
‘I’m not.’
‘You are, mate. You’re banging your head against a brick wall.’
Myles had liked Joe Roth, had thought he was a good bloke, who was game for a laugh. He decided he might have to reconsider.
‘What about May in the post room?’ he suggested, desperate to save Joe. ‘You know her – nipples you could hang your coat on, arse you could park a bike in. Up for it? Not half. Just because she’s on a care-in-the-community back-to-work scheme, don’t let that put you off. Nothing wrong with a bit of mental illness, I always say. Blinding!’
‘What’s her real name?’ Joe asked, feeling depressed.
‘May,’ Myles answered simply. ‘Though I don’t know why, there’s no may about it. She’s a definite and no mistake!’
Both Fred and Myles burst into raucous, macho laughter and Joe began to consider a career change. Was the misogyny worse here than at his last employer’s, or was he just getting old?
He cut into the hilarity by saying, ‘Apart from anything else, I genuinely need to discuss the Noritaki budget with Katherine.’ The guffaws came to an abrupt halt.
‘Do you think I was born yesterday, son?’ Fred scoffed. ‘Talk to Heavy Breda about it.’
‘Go on,’ he encouraged, when Joe didn’t reply. ‘At least Heavy Breda has tits.’
‘Have a word with Katherine,’ Joe pressed. ‘And I’ll owe you.’
Fred considered. Joe was a good-looking lad, he featured a lot in the conversations of the female employees. If he ever got anywhere with the frigid Paddy he’d immediately lose interest in her. By which time, she’d probably be very taken with him. And that would be worth seeing.
‘All right,’ grumbled Fred, heaving himself out of his leather chair.
As Katherine watched Fred lumber across the floor towards her, she knew what was coming. Part of her was deeply contemptuous of Joe for running to the boss. But against her deep instincts of self-preservation, her interest was piqued by how hard he was trying. Although men had tried that hard before and it had still ended in tears…
‘Now, listen to me,’ Fred barked at Katherine. He hated talking to her. She always made him feel as though he’d just crawled out from under a rock. Ever since, three years before, in her first week at Breen Helmsford, when he’d asked her out for a drink, and she’d said, ‘I don’t go out with married men.’ Though Fred had puffed and blustered and said, ‘I’m only being friendly, trying to make you feel welcome,’ she’d given him a scathing, knowing look and when he’d finished hating himself, his hatred had come to rest on her.
‘You’re to go out for lunch with Joe Roth and discuss bloody budgets.’
‘Is this an order?’
‘Aye, I suppose it is.’
‘You’re not my superior.’ She smiled. Then she said to herself, In fact, you’re barely on the same evolutionary scale as me. And turned up the volume on her fake smile.
‘I know I’m not your direct boss,’ Fred admitted, utterly hating this, ‘but the lad is worried about the account. Breda is a grand lass, but Joe wants it straight from the horse’s mouth.’
‘A double-breasted white suit,’ Katherine said thoughtfully, ‘with a fur coat thrown over your shoulders, a Panama hat at a rakish angle, and a ho’ in a short, tight red dress on each arm.’
‘You what?’
‘Isn’t that what pimps usually look like?’
‘A pimp!’ Fred was aghast. ‘I’m not a pimp! He only wants to have lunch with you.’
The air zinged with animosity, and briefly Katherine wished she was like other people. Why couldn’t she be a party animal? Why couldn’t she have gone out with Fred Franklin? Even had a quick fling with him? An affair with