Monday 25th September
Jodi read the details again just to be certain she wasn’t imagining it. Nope. She wasn’t going mad. The invoice was for the purchase of one inflatable unicorn. How on earth was she supposed to categorise that? She certainly couldn’t list it under utilities or maintenance. Perhaps it counted as publicity? She’d enter it under miscellaneous and check with Carolyn later.
Not that she’d seen her boss so far today and Jodi had been in since eight, despite a late finish at the restaurant last night. But she didn’t mind. She was eager to get to grips with the accounts. Except, she wasn’t. Her uni course had covered many things, but not how to deal with lost receipts, unknown expenditure and a boss whose behaviour swung from boisterous, to morose, to sleepy, on a daily basis.
A knock at the door preceded Eddie’s jovial face appearing. ‘Am I interrupting?’
‘Not at all. Come in.’
‘You asked me to look for a couple of receipts.’ He entered the office, smelling of freshly cut grass. ‘I managed to find one for paint, but not Polyfilla.’ He pulled out a crumpled receipt. ‘Sorry about the Sellotape – I had to stick it back together. I’m moving house so I’ve been having a clear-out. I must’ve shredded the other one.’ He was like a big kid apologising to his teacher because the dog ate his homework. ‘I’ve never been asked to keep receipts before.’
Jodi’s heart sank. ‘I wonder how Carolyn keeps her accounts in order?’
‘I’m not sure she does.’ He wiped his grass-stained hands on his combat trousers. ‘In future, receipts will be kept, ma’am.’ He gave her a military salute.
She laughed. ‘Navy, right?’
‘Twenty-five years.’ There was a note of pride in his voice.
‘How did you end up here?’
‘I took early retirement after my wife died. I needed a change of lifestyle. A slower pace.’ Judging by his relaxed demeanour the change had worked. ‘I miss being at sea, but I get to be outdoors working here, which is the next best thing.’
‘The grounds are amazing.’ The house might be in a shocking state, but the gardens were immaculate.
‘The grounds were landscaped a couple of centuries ago. It’s mainly maintenance now, which fortunately doesn’t cost a lot.’
He made a good point. It was the house that drained all the funds. Although it was difficult to assess the financial state of the playhouse due to poor bookkeeping. It was bad, but as to how bad, was anybody’s guess.
He smiled. ‘You need anything else?’
‘If you’re moving house I’ll need to update your personnel records. Can I have your new address?’
He grimaced. ‘The place I was due to move into has fallen through. I’m looking for another room. I’ll let you know when I find somewhere.’
‘When do you need to move out?’
‘Three weeks.’
‘Boggin’ hell, that’s tight.’
He laughed. ‘Tell me about it.’
‘Good luck finding somewhere.’ She turned back to her PC. ‘Oh, Eddie, have you seen Carolyn this morning?’
He stopped by the door. ‘She mentioned something about meeting with the local council to discuss a grant. No idea whether the meeting was here or at the council offices.’
‘Oh, okay, thanks.’ She returned to updating QuickBooks, now that she had the password, and entered the paint purchase. She had no problem categorising that one. Unlike the unicorn. ‘Right. One down, thirty-seven to go.’
She printed off the list and headed into the foyer. The Woman-in-Black was sitting behind reception, her bony shoulders visible through the thin fabric of her blouse. She looked like a Chanel waxwork dummy. Stylish, yet rigid.
‘Morning, Vivienne. Everything okay?’
The woman assessed Jodi’s very non-designer Primark skirt and top. ‘Can I help you?’
In two weeks of working at the playhouse Jodi had yet to see the woman smile. ‘I’m trying to track down a few receipts.’
Vivienne turned away. ‘Madam never requires receipts.’
‘So I gather, but I’ve spoken to the accountant and he needs them to certify the accounts. Without them, he can’t evidence the expenditure.’
Vivienne bristled. ‘Are you accusing me of subterfuge?’
‘Not at all.’ Particularly as Jodi wasn’t sure that was the correct word. ‘I’m simply asking if you have receipts for any of these purchases.’ She showed Vivienne the printout, but the woman refused to look at it.
Jodi sighed. None of her lecturers had warned her it would be like this. She tried a different question. ‘Do you have a record of the room hirers, or class attendances for the last five months?’
Vivienne looked dismissive. ‘I do not.’
Count to ten, Jodi told herself. ‘Well, from now on can you log any income received and keep receipts so that I can reconcile the books?’
‘Until madam informs me of the change herself, I will continue as before.’
Jodi sighed. ‘You’re obviously very loyal to Carolyn. I would’ve thought you’d want to support me in trying to help her sort out the accounts.’
Vivienne turned her head. ‘That is not my concern. You have no authority to change the terms and conditions of my position.’
Jodi blinked. ‘I’m simply asking for a few receipts. Is that really so hard?’
‘If madam wishes to change the procedure then naturally I will comply.’
‘Fine. I’ll speak to Carolyn and ask her to talk to you.’ If she could find her.
Jodi left reception, her confidence dented. She’d never let Vivienne see it affected her, but she’d be lying if she didn’t admit it hurt. It wasn’t just the bookkeeping. Whatever she asked for it was met with resistance and rudeness. Why was she resented so much?
She headed towards the café, expecting to have an equally challenging time with the churlish chef. He hated her too. She tried not to take it personally, but it was hard. But then, she reasoned they were rude to Becca too, so maybe they had a problem with all interlopers.
The sound of loud laughter hit her the moment she turned the corner.
She’d found Carolyn.
Jodi passed through the bar, glancing across to see if Leon was there. When he smiled her mood lifted a little. And then she reminded herself that she was an independent woman who didn’t need a man to validate her worth. Yeah, good luck with that.
Leon nodded to where Carolyn was entertaining a group of men. His wary expression told her trouble was looming. Oh, good. Like she didn’t have enough to deal with.
Four men were seated in the café, mesmerised by the exuberance of the woman regaling them with the history of the playhouse. Either that, or they were stunned into submission. Both, probably.
Carolyn was wearing a suit, which should have given the impression of a professional businesswoman. Unfortunately, it was a raspberry colour and full of creases, and her cream blouse was a little too sheer. With the sunlight hitting her from behind, the men were getting a good view of what lay beneath, which wasn’t much.
‘In 1891, noted architect Temple Moore remodelled the manor house designing the hard landscaping at the rear.’ Carolyn gestured to the gardens, her arm nearly smacking one of the men. ‘The east wing remains untouched along with the four-storey tower.’
Jodi crept past, not wanting to distract her boss in full flow.
Her arrival in the kitchen elicited a grunt from Petrit, who was beating the life out of a lump of dough. ‘What you want?’
‘I need to ask you about receipts, Petrit.’
‘Too busy.’ He slammed the dough down on the worktop.
She ignored the speckles of flour landing on her grey skirt. ‘You said that yesterday and the day before.’
‘I cook. No time for receipts.’
She was tempted to point out that if he arrived for work when he was supposed to he’d have the time. But Petrit’s poor time-keeping was a battle for another day.
She was about to leave, when she spotted a stack of empty wine bottles by the bins. Were they Carolyn’s? She’d never seen her boss drinking, but she must be consuming a lot of alcohol to act the way she did. ‘Are those yours?’ They were the same brand used in the bar.
‘For use in kitchen. For cooking.’ He thumped the dough.
‘All of them?’ What was he cooking, coq au vin for the entire population of Brighton?
He glared at her. ‘You accuse me of stealing?’
‘No, I’m asking if they came from the bar?’ When he shrugged, she tried again. ‘Petrit, I need to know if bar stock is being used in the kitchens.’
‘You speak with boss. Not me.’
‘It’s a simple question.’
‘You ask too many questions!’
She held her ground. ‘And you don’t answer any of them.’
‘Speak with boss.’ This was followed by a tirade of Romanian. ‘Leave kitchen! Too busy to answer questions from peoples like you.’
She flinched. ‘I’ll leave the printout here for you to look at. I’ll be back tomorrow to see how you’ve got on.’ Unwilling to turn her back on him, she shuffled sideways and hurried out of the kitchen.
Unnerved as she felt, it was quickly overshadowed by the sight of Carolyn holding her skirt above her knees and doing what appeared to be the cancan.
Jodi hurried over to the bar so she could observe from a safe distance. Should she intervene? Or stay out of it? As she mulled over her options, she realised she was thirsty. She’d kill for a coffee.
Leon placed a cappuccino in front of her. ‘You look like you need caffeine.’
What was he, a mind-reader? ‘That obvious, huh?’
He leant on the bar. ‘Are Petrit and Vivienne giving you a hard time?’
‘No more than normal. They don’t seem to like me.’
Leon shrugged. ‘Don’t sweat it. Vivienne’s annoyed because Carolyn didn’t give her the business manager job.’
‘You mean, she applied for my job?’
Leon slid a bowl of chocolates towards her. ‘Yep. She’s been here for years, so it didn’t occur to her Carolyn wouldn’t give it to her.’
Things were starting to make sense. ‘No wonder she hates me.’
Leon frowned. ‘It’s not your fault. Vivienne wasn’t the right person for the job. You are.’
She glanced down at her coffee. ‘You don’t know that.’
‘Sure, I do.’ When he grinned, her belly flipped. ‘And Petrit’s problem is that he’s a lazy arse. He figured with Vivienne in charge he’d continue to get away with stuff, but you’re no pushover. He’s met his match and he doesn’t like it.’
‘Well, at least now I know.’
Leon glanced over at Carolyn. ‘I’ll have a word with them.’
‘Please don’t. It’s my problem, not yours. I’ll talk to Carolyn…’ who was at that moment laughing flirtatiously at something one of the men had said. ‘Talking of Petrit, what’s the deal with him taking wine from the bar? Is that usual?’
Leon dragged his eyes away from the floorshow. ‘He’s supposed to log what he takes, but I’m not here all the time, so I don’t always know he’s taken stuff until I do a stock check.’
That surprised her. ‘How often do you check the stock?’
‘Weekly.’
‘And do you keep receipts for everything you buy?’
A smile played on his lips. ‘They’re in a folder under the till.’
‘You’re the only person who seems to understand the need for accountability. Everyone else reacted as though I was asking for their spleen… Well, apart from Eddie.’ She sipped her coffee. It was heavenly.
‘Must be my upbringing. I’ve always been a good boy.’ He winked at her.
She laughed. ‘Why do I find that difficult to believe?’
He leant on the bar. ‘How’s your coffee?’
‘Lovely.’ She took another sip. ‘So, how long have you worked here? If you don’t mind me asking.’
He unwrapped a chocolate. ‘Two years.’
‘And do you enjoy it?’
‘Mostly.’ He offered her the chocolate. ‘Certain people I could do without. It’s a shame the place isn’t busier. Carolyn has her issues, but maybe that’s why I stay. Loyalty.’
She took the chocolate. Strawberry cream. How did he know that was her favourite? Must be a lucky coincidence. ‘It’s a good attribute to have.’
He shrugged. ‘Working here gives me plenty of free time to write.’
Jodi glanced over when Carolyn began singing Vera Lynn’s We’ll Meet Again. ‘What is she doing?’
‘I think she’s demonstrating.’ Leon tilted his head. ‘She received a grant from the council to entice people from hard-to-reach communities to engage with the arts. I heard her talking earlier about the link between singing and improving mental health.’
When Jodi turned back she almost bumped noses with him. Embarrassed, she covered it by taking a sip of coffee. ‘So, what do you write?’
His expression turned sheepish. ‘Songs.’
‘You’re a songwriter?’
His cheeks coloured. It was barely visible beneath his dark skin, but she noticed just the same. It was adorable… Not that she was interested. ‘Kind of. It’s a work in progress.’
She took another sip of coffee. ‘I’d love to hear you play. Where do you perform?’
He rubbed his shaved head, an awkward gesture that made him seem younger than his twenty-something years. ‘My bedroom mostly. I’ve uploaded a few tracks to YouTube, but haven’t plucked up the nerve to play a live set yet.’
A loud crash interrupted them.
Jodi turned to see Carolyn falling into her visitors’ table, sending cups and saucers flying. What followed next was embarrassed laughter from Carolyn, Leon jumping over the counter, and the disgruntled men from the council wiping spilt liquid from their suits.
It was carnage. And yet another scenario not covered on Jodi’s course. ‘I’m so sorry, gentlemen,’ she said, racing over. ‘Let me fetch a cloth.’
The men didn’t look happy. Who could blame them?
Carolyn wriggled free from Leon’s grasp. ‘I’m fine,’ she said, pushing him away. ‘Let go of me.’
Leon’s expression told her they had a problem. Like Jodi didn’t already know that.
‘Perhaps it would be better if we rescheduled the meeting for another time?’ Jodi said to the men from the council, gesturing towards the exit. ‘Let me show you out.’ And with that they left, eager to distance themselves from the exuberant owner of the playhouse.
When Jodi returned, she discovered Carolyn shouting at Leon. ‘You’ve stolen my shoe? Give me back my shoe!’
‘Your shoe is on the floor, Carolyn. Let’s get you upstairs.’
She dug him in the ribs. ‘I don’t want to go upstairs.’
He held on to her, careful not to hurt her. ‘How about a coffee and a lie-down?’
‘I’m not tired.’ And then she threw up, right down the front of his Superdry T-shirt.
Leon bit his lip, as if holding back an expletive.
Carolyn burst out crying. ‘I’m so sorry, Leon.’
He held her as she cried. ‘It’s okay, Carolyn. It’ll wash out.’
Petrit appeared from the kitchen, the doors banging shut behind him. He didn’t look happy.
Leon eased Carolyn over to Jodi. ‘Take her into the office. I’ll help Petrit clean up.’
Petrit started grumbling, but Leon ignored him. Jodi admired his restraint. She mentally added ‘equality and diversity’ to the growing list of items she needed to discuss with her boss…when Carolyn sobered up.
By the time they arrived in reception, Carolyn’s crying had reduced to a whimper.
Vivienne stood when they neared. ‘What have you done to her?’
‘I haven’t done anything, Vivienne. If you want to help, get her a strong coffee, please.’
The woman harrumphed and strode off.
Jodi led Carolyn into the office and sat her on the couch. ‘Let’s get you out of that jacket.’
Carolyn looked down at the mess. ‘Oh, God. What have I done?’ She began hitting her thighs, pummelling her fists harder and harder. ‘Why do I do this?’
Jodi grabbed her hands. ‘Stop that.’ When she was certain Carolyn had calmed down, she removed her jacket and handed her a water bottle. ‘Drink this.’ Jodi used the remaining water to rinse Carolyn’s hands and wipe them clean.
Carolyn didn’t say a word. Her mood had switched from gregarious to gloomy.
The door opened and the Woman-in-Black appeared. ‘Madam’s coffee.’
‘Thank you, Vivienne.’ When it became clear she wasn’t about to leave, Jodi said, ‘That will be all.’
A disgruntled Vivienne exited, banging the door behind her. At least Jodi knew the source of Vivienne’s resentment now. Jodi had nicked her job.
Jodi turned to Carolyn, feeling like she was at a crossroads. She’d only worked at the playhouse for two weeks, but every day there’d been an incident of some kind. It was clear that the staff had become accustomed to Carolyn’s antics and didn’t bat an eyelid when she caused mayhem. Maybe Jodi should follow their example and ignore Carolyn’s catastrophic behaviour? Soothe her, patch her up and let her sleep it off, pretending like it had never happened… Or maybe she should face it head-on. Ignoring the situation hadn’t worked, so maybe it was time for a few home truths.
She handed Carolyn the mug of coffee. ‘I gather the meeting was about a grant you’ve received from the council?’
Carolyn sipped her coffee.
When nothing was forthcoming, Jodi continued. ‘And how do you feel it went?’
Carolyn ignored her.
Jodi felt like she’d been transported back to her teens when Aunty Ruby used to question her after a night spent misbehaving. Her aunty had never shouted or yelled hurtful comments like her mother had done, she’d just calmly pointed out the error of her niece’s ways, shaming Jodi to her core. She’d learnt a lot from her aunty.
It was time to put that learning into practice. ‘Do you think they were impressed? Do you think they left here believing their money to be in safe hands?’
Still no response.
Jodi had been the same. Sullen and silent. ‘Or do you think they left thinking the owner is a mess, a woman who despite being clever, kind, and more than capable of managing the playhouse is an unreliable…alcoholic?’ There, she’d said it.
Carolyn threw the mug of coffee against the wall. ‘You don’t know me!’
The mug didn’t smash, but the contents splashed across the desk, soaking the few receipts Jodi had managed to collect. Helpful. ‘So, you’re not an alcoholic?’
There was a tremor in Carolyn’s hands. ‘I can stop anytime I want.’
Jodi nodded. ‘Good to know… Then, why don’t you?’
Tears ran down Carolyn’s face. ‘You don’t understand.’
‘I understand more than you realise.’ She knelt down and took Carolyn’s hands. ‘You may not remember what I was like as a teenager, but I was a mess. I used to rely on drugs and alcohol to get me through the day. It was a way of masking my problems and escaping reality. I could justify it to anyone who challenged me. I didn’t care about the consequences of my actions, or the people I hurt.’
Carolyn stared at her skirt, her body twitching like an exposed nerve.
‘Watching you just now, I remembered being fifteen and setting fire to a bin at school. It caused mayhem. The fire service and police were called and the school had to shut. I thought I was so funny, so clever, so popular with the other kids. But I wasn’t. I was a pain in the arse. A disruption that everyone just wanted to go away.’
Carolyn shook her head. ‘It’s not the same. You don’t know how hard it is. It’s not my fault—’
‘Yes, it is.’ Jodi cut her off. ‘And do you know how I know that? Because I said the same thing. It wasn’t my fault. It was the school. The police. My mum. If it weren’t for her, I wouldn’t have felt the need to escape. But it wasn’t her fault. She was an excuse. It was my problem. Do you know when I realised that? When I was sitting in a prison cell.’
Carolyn looked abashed.
‘You need to face up to your problems, Carolyn. You need to accept help and take ownership of the situation…before it’s too late.’
Carolyn started sniffling.
Jodi squeezed her hands. ‘All you need to do is accept that you need help. It’ll be hard, but it’s better than the road of self-destruction.’
Carolyn burst out crying and slumped onto Jodi.
Eventually, the tears subsided and drowsiness took over. Jodi removed Carolyn’s one remaining shoe and covered her with a blanket. Then she went over to her desk and logged onto QuickBooks, even though challenging Carolyn about her drinking was bound to result in her dismissal.
She just hoped it was a price worth paying.