Free Me and Mr Carrington: A Short Story by Alexandra Brown Page A

both hands … one on each bum cheek as my best friend Sam says. She’s the reason I was in Italy – to be bridesmaid at her wedding to the lovely Nathan on a hilltop overlooking Lake Como, with my Dad giving her away. Her own dad, Alfie, had passed away just a few months earlier. Emotional doesn’t even come close to describing the moment she appeared to say her vows - stunning and breathtakingly beautiful in a raw silk ivory goddess gown, her blonde corkscrew curls loose around her shoulders and a pretty bouquet of assorted wild flowers in her arms.
    Sam is a true Queen of Hearts, the ultimate matchmaker so she never could resist playing Cupid, and knowing that I’d been lusting after Tom ever since I first clapped eyes on him in the staff canteen a few months ago, she had secretly arranged for him to turn up – her wedding gift to me, she had said. Of course, I didn’t know he was actually Tom Carrington then; he went undercover, pretended he was just another sales assistant. All part of his plan to assess the store from the ground floor as it were, before buying it from his Aunt Camille, whose grandfather was the original Mr Harry Carrington, aka Dirty Harry, on account of his philandering ways with the showgirls from the old music hall on Lovelace Road. And it really was a perfect moment. It’s just a shame Tom could only stay for a few hours and now I’m back here in Mulberry-on-Sea, while he’s still there in Italy.
    ‘And what about Carrington’s other gorge guy, James?’ Eddie steps forward to scrutinise me.
    ‘What do you mean?’ I reply.
    ‘Well, not so long ago you were besotted with him.’
    ‘Hardly.’ I frown, and he gives me a look. ‘The way I feel about Tom is totally different. Like nothing I’ve ever felt before. Besides, James and I came to an understanding, we’re just good friends now.’ A short silence follows. ‘You know, Eddie … I think Tom really could be my one.’
    ‘Dreamy. And I truly hope so, because if there’s anyone who deserves to bag their prince charming, it’s you, flower. Especially after that slutty skank of an ex, Brett, or whatever his name was. I never liked him,’ Eddie sniffs, pulling a face.
    ‘Yes, thanks Eddie, like I need reminding.’ Brett was my last serious boyfriend, before he cheated two years ago with a tall beautiful blonde. I’ve had a few liaisons since, including a one-night-stand with James but none of that even comes close to how I feel when Tom is around.
    ‘So, are you two actually an item now?’ Eddie nudges my arm.
    ‘Not exactly.’
    ‘Well why not? If he really is your one, then what are you waiting for? You must go get him, honey.’ He looks outraged.
    ‘It’s complicated.’
    ‘Rubbish, it’s only complicated if you make it so. I bet it’s just a matter of time. Ooh, I wonder what the other staff will think … The wealthy store owner and the penniless shop girl, does have a certain
Pretty Woman
feel to it,’ Eddie says with a flourish while waving his free hand in the air like he’s Walt Disney pondering on a new fairytale film ending.
    ‘Will you please stop it – I’m hardly penniless. And shop girl sounds so old-fashioned and dull … I’m an experienced and well regarded sales assistant and newly-appointed supervisor,’ I say, mulling it all over as the creaky old staff lift shudders to a halt. We fling open the cage door, side-step a couple of stock trollies piled high with flattened cardboard boxes and walk along the dimly-lit corridor that’s like a time warp with its original 1920s faded floral wallpaper.
    I suppose in a way Eddie does have a point. Sort of. Tom Carrington is the new managing director after all, the majority shareholder and what if he wants to focus on settling into his new position? Prove himself as a credible department store owner? He’s not going to want everyone on the shop floor tittle-tattling about his liaison with me, Georgie Hart, in charge of Women’s Accessories. And to