Redecoration
Part 1
Nicola Taylor had been working for ‘KW Products’ for three years. The company focused on kitchen utensils and electrical goods. It might not be the most glamorous employer, but Nicola was proud that more and more of its products were appearing across the UK and elsewhere in Europe even if, on the products, the KW logo was often tiny compared to that of the store selling it in their name. Nicola worked in the design department which meant that she liaised with the designers, some who were almost like artists in how they worked; others were like engineers. She always enjoyed seeing the new designs and volunteered to take part in any ergonomic testing that was called for. Consequently her home was full of equipment that most of the public would not see for at least a year.
Nicola lacked an artistic or design edge herself, but she was a very good administrator, almost able to envisage procedures as a flow and so see where they might come undone. This had meant rapid promotion in the company as she had helped make the inter-relation between designers, prototype builders, the production side and marketing very efficient. She was proud that her boss, Michael Blake, made it apparent he valued her work. At times Nicola worried that he over-emphasised her skills which she tended to see as nothing special. Her concern was that he did that simply because he was attracted to her. Michael was twelve years her senior and had divorced his wife soon after Nicola had joined the company. Nicola guessed, however, that by now, if he had wanted to make a move, he would have done. Despite that, she continued to tread carefully, flattering him without making it appear as a come-on; keeping sufficient working distance between them whilst trying not to make him feel as if she was giving him a cold shoulder.
The working relationship with Michael Blake was not the only one that she had to handle carefully. The other challenge was Lucy Maple. Lucy had ambition oozing from her. Five months back, she had come to Nicola’s branch from the central marketing department with an attitude that to Nicola seemed to have excess of brain storming and blue sky thinking, out of the box and pushing the envelope, of course, and all of the other trendy managerial terms of the past three decades. Whilst some of their work overlapped, Nicola never saw them as rivals. She envisaged a steady climb up the ladder for herself and anticipated that, in contrast, Lucy would have soon served her tour of duty at this outpost of the company and would be taken back to head office to continue a meteoric career. As with Blake, Nicola adopted a balanced attitude to Lucy, trying not to irritate her but also avoiding appearing as if she and Lucy were bound to be best friends. There was enough of a challenge helping a company prosper these days without having to wrestle with office politics.
It was the regular start of the week meeting of the leading staff in the office.
“The next item: this is something coming down from head office marketing…” Blake began.
Lucy nodded as if she understood; that they were her friends and whatever they thought must be important.
“… focusing on our prime role as business-to-business sales, they want us to despatch out our latest designs, late-stage prototypes even, to our regular customers and others who they will advise us of. They want our customers to recognise that we are a dynamic company always developing new lines. The first items will be from the new ‘Midnight Flame’ range, all that black, purple, scarlet stuff; next month the ‘Carnaby’ range, mostly the same equipment but with Sixties styling.”
Nicola knew both ranges and was sure they would go down well with companies looking to provide stylish kitchen equipment, there had already been interest from a couple of the large department stores.
“Nicola, Lucy suggested that with your experience you could work with the couriers to discuss sending the samples out. We’re using Azed Couriers, you know them? One of their staff is coming in to discuss the practical issues, packaging, the size of the boxes that kind of stuff. She’ll be here at eleven, erm, Nicky White…”
“Nikki Wilde, Michael.” Lucy chipped in.
“That’s it, Nikki Wilde; I’ll get Karen to bring her along to you. Any issues with that?”
“No, Michael, that’s fine.” Nicola responded genuinely.
“Good. The schedule, the details of which items are to go out and to which companies, should be in your inbox by now.”
Nicola checked her smart phone and found that it was.
“It is.”
“Excellent. Now, the final item: the quarterly office dinner. Lucy’s agreed to organise it. I believe you said it is going to be at that new Indian place, the Sanguem?”
“That’s right.”
“Good, always like to try new places and you can’t beat a curry, can you, Nicola?”
“No, Michael.”
“And you ladies will dress in your finest won’t you.”
Both Nicola and Lucy grunted a reply. Nicola guessed Lucy would be turned out in the latest designer wear, perfectly just the right side of the border between decent and tarty. Nicola would come in something smart and that would not show the curry stains if Michael started gesticulating with his fork to make his point as he had a tendency to do.
The meeting was soon over and as she walked back to her office, Nicola saw she did not have long before this woman from the couriers turned up. She wondered why Lucy had angled for Nicola to be assigned this job. She had not checked the email, perhaps there were hundreds of deliveries to do and a lot of paperwork. However, Nicola thought it might be good to get her name known with all of these clients, in case, one day, she began looking for another post; promotion even.
Nicola got down to her emails on her computer and was only a third of the way through them when Karen the receptionist appeared around her door.
“I’ve got Nikki from Azed Couriers, erm, I believe you were expecting her.”
“That’s right, Karen, show her in.”
Nicola had originally imagined that Nicky had been the name of a young man, but Lucy’s statement had clarified that the courier was female. She guessed that these days she should not be surprised that a woman worked for a motorcycle couriers; especially if it was on the administrative side. As Nikki walked in, it was apparent to Nicola, that whatever role she might have in the office, this woman also worked hands-on. The all-in-one leather outfit she wore was like some kind of armour. Nicola guessed that that was not far from the point: it was supposed to protect the wearer from potential blows harder than a sword would have delivered. The outfit was predominantly black but with red and white bands and geometric shapes across the top and the legs. It was bulked at the knee and fed into chunky calf-length boots with a matching design. She carried a helmet under her arm, from which protruded her gloves. She put the helmet down on Nicola’s desk and reached out to shake her hand; Nicola rose from her chair and reciprocated. As she did, she was conscious of the aroma of heavy leather, fumes and perspiration. It might be out of place in an office, but somehow it was not unpleasant to Nicola, though added to the feeling that she was rather intimidated by this ‘road warrior’ who had just walked in.
“Nikki.” The biker said.
“Nicola, Nicola Taylor.”
“Good to meet you.”
“Take a seat.”
Nikki complied. As she did, Nicola looked her over. The two of them had to be of the same height but it was difficult to tell too much of Nikki’s build so concealed beneath the leathers. Her hair was short, almost a crewcut at the sides and back, but long and unruly on top. Its shade was a very dark red, not a natural shade, something like red dye over dark brown hair. Nicola thought it ironic, as she tinted her hair in fairer shades, but if neither woman had, then, their natural colour would have been very close. The short hair had an impact on how Nicola saw this woman’s face. It was a broad oval, her cheekbones were high, her nose straight and slender, her mouth quite small, but with full lips. Beneath straight eyebrows her dark blue eyes had a distant look about them which Nicola took to come from Nikki riding the open road.
The row of studs and small earrings that rimmed both ears, the stud in her nose, were not things Nicola or anyone she knew would have gone for, but she guessed they fitted in with biker culture. Nicola glanced back at the nose stud and tried to remember which side signified the wearer was a lesbian. Of course, it was none of her business if Nikki was straight, bi or a lesbian, she just found she was curious. Guessing she would never find out, she focused back on the task at hand.
“You’re here to discuss the couriering of a range of samples?”
Nicola had to confess she had expected someone rather more business orientated, but had to admit she did not really know how courier companies worked. Of course, every business had firms that did things a little differently.
“Yes, kitchen stuff, utensils, small electricals. From here mainly into London and a few locations across the South East.”
Nikki seemed to have the knowledge needed to deal with the job.
“That’s right.”
“Andy, that’s the boss, well he’s got the emailed schedule and he’ll be working out the best routes. I’m just here really to check out the box sizes, which products are fragile, that kind of thing. It seems that I’m going to be your main courier, so you’ll see a lot of me around. Will I come up here and collect or do you have a ‘goods out’?”
Nicola did not know the answer to that and before she could give her best guess there was another knock at the door. It was Steve from the post room with a low trolley piled with boxes.
“Nicola, here’s the stuff. I was told to bring it up here. A lorry just brought it in from the warehouse.”
“Is that right?”
“Yes, Mr. Blake said it had all been arranged. Where do you want them stacked?”
Nicola was a bit reluctant to have her office being turned into an impromptu storeroom but now was not the time to argue.
“Over there by the window, Steve, erm, thanks.”
Steve manoeuvred the trolley into the room.
“Here, let me give you a hand.” Nikki said, jumping up.
Then a little to Nicola’s surprise the courier unzipped the top of her outfit and shrugged out of it, letting the sleeves and back hang loose down from her waist. Underneath she wore what to Nicola looked like a sports bra, sleek with a halter neck and only leaving the shape rather skin of her breasts showing. However, her midriff was bare and Nicola felt she should protest at this woman now half-undressed, hefting boxes in her office. Taking off the top part had revealed a complex Celtic band tattooed around her right arm. Of course, these days, tattoos on women were nothing unusual, but Nicola felt a little uneasy at having a woman very different from those she mixed with, here in her office.
Nicola went back to her emails until Steve and Nikki had finished.
“Is that it all Steve?”
“No, apparently there’ll be a batch next week too.”
“Can’t you keep them in the post room?”
“We’re jam-packed down there as it is.”
“Okay, I guess this’ll have to do for now.”
“No worries, Nicola. See you.”
“Yes, Steve, bye.”
Nikki was back in her chair, her skin flushed slightly and her chest rising and falling visibly from the work.
“Well, if that’s the range then I’ve certainly got a good idea of the dimensions. We’ll be able to do most of it on bikes, a van for those ones.” She gestured to the longer and larger boxes at the bottom. “It won’t be as fast, but I don’t see any problem with same morning delivery.”
“That’s great.” Nicola said, pleased at least one part of this had gone smoothly. “Can I get you a water?”
“Sure.” Nikki smiled.
As she went for the water, Nicola had to admit that despite their differences she was slowly coming to quite like Nikki. She told herself that she should be professional enough to cope with a woman sitting here dressed in clinging leather and her underwear. She handed Nikki a plastic cup of water and sipped from her own. Nikki tipped back her head and Nicola could almost see the water flow down her throat. She had a strange frisson but quickly snapped herself out of it. If she was getting even remotely aroused by the sight of a woman drinking then perhaps she had been working too hard. More than that, it might signal that her evenings had been filled with too much work taken home. How many months had it been since she had had a date, let alone sex? Nicola dismissed such concerns. She did not just go with any man, he had to be decent, there was no point just plumping for whoever she encountered at the gym.
“Thanks.” Nikki said, putting down the empty cup.
“My pleasure.” Nicola laughed, it sounded a little formal.
Nikki chuckled too and for an instant Nicola worried that she was a lesbian and it had sounded like a come-on. Nicola was sure Nikki knew the hackneyed scenarios of bored businesswoman fancying a ‘bit of rough’.
“I could see you were thirsty.” Nicola continued. “Erm, people working for me, well I like to make sure they are, erm, alright.” She hoped she sounded patronising enough not to encourage any familiarity from Nikki.
“Sure.” Nikki responded in a deadpan way and Nicola was not really clearly what she meant.
“If that’s it, I’ll be off.” Nikki said, standing and zipping herself back into her leathers. “I think those three small boxes and that thin one are my first pick-up.” She said as she pulled out a smart phone from a clip at her waist. “You’re happy for me to take them.”
“Sure, erm, certainly. Go ahead.”
“Great.” Nikki jabbed at the screen of her phone and then tucked it away. She squeezed the smaller packets into her helmet and then carried the last one. “See you on Wednesday for the next pick up. Back here?”
“I guess that’s the way it’s going to be.”
“Right, Wednesday, here.”
“Bye.”
Over the next three weeks, Nikki became a regular visitor to Nicola’s office. Nicola found that she came to enjoy the break to her mornings and gave up trying to have the various packages stored somewhere else. Nikki took to bringing in a coffee from the café down the street when she came. She would chat about the traffic and other clients. Nicola did not have much to say in return, especially when Nikki let slip that she was emailing with a woman she hoped to date. Nicola guessed she had met lesbians in her time, but could not have told who they were among the women she had known. She supposed that, even then, she had picked up sufficient signals from Nikki right from the start so had managed take the confession in her stride. She guessed she should feel flattered that Nikki felt comfortable enough to confide in her. Though Nicola imagined that Nikki never shied away from being open about her personality, she guessed that she would not have received much of a useful response from the kind of men Nicola envisaged working at Azed.
Later Nicola wondered if it had been some kind of test, something deniable as a joke if Nicola had reacted badly. She adopted a neutral tone and it seemed to have been the right one. Nikki did not grow frosty towards her, but neither did she say any more about the potential girlfriend. Of course, there might have been nothing more to say, but Nicola hoped she had, in fact, managed to communicate her ‘don’t ask, don’t tell’ approach well enough without upsetting their developing working relationship. She did find that she was a little fascinated by Nikki’s life largely as it was so different from her own. It was clear that they were both hard workers, but Nikki seemed to enjoy her life too: socialising without bingeing and planning for a bike tour of Europe that summer, rather than wondering like Nicola when she was going to have time to even take the leave owed to her. They had similarities too, the stress with colleagues and idiots they encountered and Nicola guessed that this kind of sisterhood suggested she should have not lost contact with those women she had known at college. However, these days, it was difficult to maintain such things when keeping a job, let alone fostering a career was so difficult.
Nicola stepped from the ‘Sanguem’ restaurant into the evening air. She felt entirely full. She had to admit that Lucy had done pretty well in selecting this place. Nicola had been rather dubious about it when she realised where it was located and for a while worried it would be some very old fashioned Indian restaurant with flock wallpaper, too thick curtains and food as bright as traffic lights. However, the décor had proven to be cream shades, the fittings lots of potted trees and different levels, so, in Nicola’s eyes, almost more Egyptian in style than what she took to be Indian. The food was good, Goan recipes apparently, not only bringing dishes she was unfamiliar with but also with fusion recipes on offer she had found both intriguing and tasty.
Nicola stood for a moment and sucked on her mint. She had driven here and had stuck to delicious fruit juice cocktails all evening. She guessed the fuggy-headedness had come not from alcohol slipped into her drink, but from a heavy meal after a full day’s work and probably the heat of a busy restaurant. Nicola took some moments to orientate herself and then headed off in the direction of where she remembered she had parked her car.
The district was not one she was familiar with and she forgave herself when she reached the area where she thought she had put her car and found she was mistaken. She continued until she hit the main road and knew she had gone too far. She backtracked and went down parallel streets just in case she had mixed up the one she had parked in with another that looked similar. Steadily, however, she began to worry that her car had been stolen. She walked back to the road she had started on and looked carefully, just in case, in the poor light of the street lamps she had made a mistake about the location. However, she saw the tapas bar she certainly remembered parking near. For a moment she wondered about going in and asking if anyone had seen anything unusual. She guessed, though, that if they had then there would have been at least some sign of the police around. Nicola decided then that her car was lost and the next step was to get a taxi home and to call the police.
“You lost?”
Nicola looked up from her smart phone and saw a figure crossing the road from the tapas bar. As it came into the light, Nicola saw it was Nikki. She looked pretty different, but Nicola guessed that was because in place of the leather combi, as Nikki had told her was the outfit’s name, she was in normal clothes. She had a café racer style leather jacket over a sleeveless singlet buttoned down the front. She had on black leggings and distressed dark khaki worker boots; Nicola guessed these were the modern take on DMs for the lesbian of today.
“Nikki, hi. Not really, it’s just, well my car was here.” Nicola pointed to where a van now sat. “I was at the quarterly dinner, at the ‘Sanguem’.”
“Oh yes, was it any good? It’s Goan isn’t it?”
“Yes. Very good.” Nicola responded, finding it hard to focus.
“So what are you going to do? Call the cops? Get a taxi?”
“Er…” Nicola swayed, she felt as if she was going to faint.
Nikki reached out her hand to steady Nicola and caught her phone as it slipped from her fingers.
“You don’t look too good. You’re not allergic to stuff: prawns, nuts?”
Nicola tried to respond that she was not, but a tiredness had swept over her.
“Come on, no taxi’ll take you like this. My flat’s just up from here. That’s it, get your arm around me. You office types, you don’t eat enough.”
Nicola found it difficult to really comprehend what was happening, but Nikki kept her upright and she just walked wherever the biker directed. Then she realised she was in a flat, sat on a leather sofa, having a cold glass of water pressed into her hand. Nicola drank from it and coughed. She sipped some more and certainly felt better. Rather dazed she stared at the dark wood units around the room, at the black-and-white photos on the wall which seemed to be of parts of naked women. The Celtic tattoo was familiar and though she had never seen the two-headed axe on the hip, she guessed that one was of Nikki herself. For a moment she worried that somehow Nikki had brought her here to seduce her or take advantage of her. However, as the courier sat down beside her and rubbed Nicola’s back and pressed her hand to Nicola’s forehead, she got the sense that there was nothing sexual there, just concern for a friend.
Nikki got Nicola to drink some more water, then as she began to slump wearily, she took off her shoes and lifted her legs on to the sofa. Nicola found the padded sofa arm to be pretty comfortable and the last thing she was aware of was a blanket being draped over her body.