Stockings and Cellulite by Debbie Viggiano Read Free Book Online Page A

to buy the local paper.
    ‘You won’t find any Footsie stuff in this one love,’ the same spotty teenager advised.
    I handed him some loose change. ‘Actually I’ve bought this particular paper for a completely different reason.’
    ‘Oh yeah? Don’t tell me. You read all about Beckham’s botty, got a bit hot and bothered and now you want to look up local private masseurs.’
    ‘Idiot,’ I grinned. ‘I shall be reading the Employment columns. I want a job.’
    Driving into the cul-de-sac, I psyched myself up to tackle the final hurdle of this interminable day.
    Cynthia Castle opened her front door wide, pencil thin eyebrows arched, mouth pursed like a dog’s bum. The twins mumbled good-bye as they came out.
    ‘Thank you,’ I said stiffly.
    Once home I settled down with a strong coffee and read the Jobs Offered pages. There was very little available on a part-time basis with a secretarial background. However, my eyes alighted on an agency advertising for temporary secretaries. Hm. A temporary job would give my rusty skills a chance to test the secretarial waters so to speak.
    I glanced at my watch. Five minutes to five. The phone answered on the first ring.
    ‘Starting Point Recruitment Agency,’ purred a female voice.
    ‘Oh! Hello. Er, I’m thinking about returning to work.’
    Seconds later I had a registration appointment scribbled in my diary which just happened to fall on a Friday, the same day as my impending date with Jed.
    When Friday dawned, I set off to the agency feeling rather buoyant. Pushing open the swing door I was immediately engulfed in soft carpeting, computer screens and telephones. Butterflies took off deep in my stomach as a coiffed consultant by the name of Carmel invited me to sit opposite her.
    ‘Let’s start by compiling your Curriculum Vitae,’ Carmel smiled. ‘When did you last work Mrs Cherry?’
    ‘Almost ten years ago, just before my twins were born,’ I replied apologetically. ‘I’ve kept my secretarial skills up typing occasional survey reports at home for my husband when his secretary was up to her eyeballs-’
    I broke off as it dawned on me that the secretary had probably been up to her eyeballs with my husband’s dick rather than dictation. I was almost ambushed by a fresh outbreak of tears. God, when would this angst cease?
    ‘That’s fine Mrs Cherry,’ Carmel assured. ‘All that remains is a small typing test and then it’s just a case of waiting for temping appointments to roll in. This will be the perfect introduction to ease you back into full time employment.’
    That afternoon whilst cruising the aisles of Tesco, my mobile chirruped into life. It was Carmel rather tensely informing me that one of the agency’s regular temps had broken her wrist and, with a sense of urgency, asked if I would be prepared to take over the booking on Monday.
    ‘Yes of course,’ I beamed into the handset, ‘but don’t forget to remind the company that I can only provide cover until three o’clock because of the school run.’
    ‘That shouldn’t be a problem,’ Carmel assured.
    I hung up feeling tremendously excited.
    Later that afternoon Stevie knocked on the door ready to collect the twins for the longest period in
that
house so far. I wouldn’t see the twins until Sunday teatime.
    ‘Cass?’ he asked in a wheedling tone which instantly irritated me. ‘Have you thought any more about us getting back together?’
    ‘I’m still thinking about it,’ I snapped. ‘Although frankly, after listening to your litany of legovers, I wouldn’t get your hopes up.’
    ‘You know you don’t mean that Cass. You’re still angry – understandably so – but you’ll calm down eventually.’
    I swung round furiously. ‘Oh will I?’
    ‘Yes, of course. It’s just that I’d like to get back to normal, preferably as soon as possible. I want to get on with my life.’
    My eyes rocketed open in disbelief. ‘
Your
life? And what about
my
life, or is this just about