Rita stopped singing I'm turning Japanese, and passed a letter over to Roxanne who had just walked in. ‘Good morning. Here's one Brian’s going to love.’
Casting her eyes over it, Roxanne slapped it onto the desk and peeled off her jacket. ‘There’s a bloody vending machine in our-the...I mean, were we asked? Even told? And where’s my kettle gone? I paid almost a tenner for that and it had better not been chucked!’ she exclaimed.
‘Vending machine? Where? I didn't see – ’
‘Oh, you will. Bloody great monstrosity.’ Telling her stunned friend, ‘I’ll be back,’ she left the office determinedly. And returned many minutes later looking satisfied.
Rita put down the Tippex bottle. ‘Want to talk about it?’
‘Later. Brian tried fobbing me off as usual with his, '"Oo dangerous levels of stress at work, better call in the medics." It's not the work, it's her, Miss Idle-Snooty-Pants. I didn't say that, of course. Anyway, long story short, I’ve had my word in his shell-like and he actually listened.’
‘And? Agreed to...a large bottle of gin?’
Roxanne nodded. ‘Along with a dart board and some balls for him. Except he doesn’t know that they're for him,’ was the smug reply.
‘Well, while you were seeing to our needs, I’ve drafted a reply. Sorry it’s a mess, my fingers are all thumbs today. I couldn’t find the paper Tippex.’ She passed over the Tippex bottle. ‘Don’t suppose you can open this? It’s caked up.’
Sucking her reddened fingers after trying and failing, Roxanne said, ‘I’ll type today. Keep an eye on Miss Idle-Snooty-Pants and as soon as she nips out, we’ll pop in and nab her Tippex.’ She frowned and then smiled. ‘Wait, your hairs been lightened. Oh, you're such a one, you've got a date and never said a word!’
‘Maybe I do.’ Rita dimpled.
‘Ah-hah! Tell me all. This is so exciting.’
Rita shook her head. ‘Tomorrow. There’ll be more to tell then.’
Settling down to type, Roxanne momentarily rested her fingers on the qwerty keyboard. Then grabbing a sheet of carbon paper she inserted it between two clean sheets of A4. Satisfied with their alignment she fed them into her typewriter and began typing. Then, happy there were no typos, she yanked out the sheets, separated and then after putting the flimsy carbon paper back in the folder, said, ‘Let me know if you want to borrow a dress. Don’t go losing weight with this one, Rita.’
‘Okay. And thanks.’
The draft reply read:
Dear Getting Anxious. Your friends obviously have more sense than you. Something definitely smells fishy. Is he married? If you don’t want to tell him adios, then demand to meet his friends and family. However, if you do nothing, start saving for handkerchiefs.
R. & R.
Returning the carbon copy into their own filing tray for putting away later, and the clean one into Brian's folder, Roxanne said, ‘Good reply.’
2nd story in the R&R Agony Aunt series. Copyright Robyn Cain, April 2024
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