Friends With Benefits...Ch 9...Unhappy Birthday...Part 1
January 15. Stephen's birthday. It started out as a good day. The staff played a few pranks on Stephen, like calling the department phone and asking for "Sexy Knickers", switching salt for the sugar in the canteen, and having Mr. Harman bring up five naked mannequins wearing stripper tassels. He took it all well.
The Constable entered the front door of Grace Brothers and immediately went to the Information Desk.
"I'm looking for a Mr. Stephen Peacock. He is an employee here in the Ladies' and Gents' Department. Can you direct me?" he asked the pretty young girl behind the counter.
"Yes. Take the lift to the first floor. He's the department Floorwalker. You will see him when you step out of the lift. He's tall, so you won't miss him. He'll be wearing a red carnation."
He thanked her and strode over to the lift. Mr. Harman overheard the conversation and came alongside the Constable.
"I can take you straight up to the ladies' and Gents' Department. Follow me, Sir."
"Thank you."
It was an hour before the Ladies' and Gents' departments took their lunch break and the sales floor was especially busy.
The bell dinged and the lift doors opened. The Constable stepped out with Mr. Harman in tow.
"That's him, there," Mr. Harms said, directing the Constable.
The Constable descended the stairs and headed straight for Stephen. He turned round and acknowledged the Constable.
"Are you being served, Sir?" Stephen asked.
"No, sir. You are. Are you Mr. Stephen Peacock?"
"I am Captain Stephen Peacock." Stephen corrected.
"My name is Grahame Parker. I am here on behalf of your wife, Mrs. Vivienne Peacock. I am delivering you these papers prepared by her solicitor, Mr. Alex Fahy, Esquire." He handed Stephen the envelope, thick and overstuffed, sealed with a blob of red wax and imprinted with a calligraphy "F".
There was a hush over the sales floor as staff and customers stared at Stephen. He looked around nervously, his face flushing, feeling like he had been kicked in the stomach. He took the envelope and stuffed it into his waistcoat and quickly buttoned his jacket.
"Good day, Sir," the Constable nodded and turned and left.
Stephen's feet were nailed to the floor. He mustered all the resolve he could, stiffened his upper lip, and resumed his post.
"Did you see that, Mrs. Slocombe?" Miss Brahms whispered,"Captain Peacock's been given a fat envelope from his wife's solicitor."
"I did, Miss Brahms. Poor man; don't stare. Today's his birthday; she did this on purpose. Bitch," Betty hissed.
At the men's counter, Mr. Humphries and Mr. Lucas went about their business straightening the racks and dusting the displays.
"His wife is pretty heartless to serve him divorce papers on his birthday," said Mr. Lucas.
"Shhh...shhhh...don't let him catch you gossiping...Not today."
"Mr. Humphries, Mr. Lucas, you two need to get back to work" Mr. Grainger reprimanded.
"Yes, Mr. Grainger," they said in unison.
Stephen stood silently, oblivious to anything going on in the department around him; the only time he spoke was when a customer came up to him.
Stephen and Betty took their coffee breaks at the same time. He sat in the canteen quietly stirring his coffee as Betty came in.
"I'm sorry, Stephen," she offered.
"It was inevitable. It feels like I pulled the plug on a terminally ill relative. You know, I don't know what to feel. I've asked for a divorce many times over the years but we managed to patch things up. I'm relieved that the official papers are here, but this feels like a death. We let our marriage die a slow grueling death. Well, it's official now." He sighed, then attempted a small smile for her.
"Have you looked at the papers yet?"
"No. I have to prepare myself for what they might say. I'm sorry, I don't feel like chit-chatting much right now." He stared off, blankly.
She touched his hand,"All right. I'm heading back to the floor."
He nodded and watched her walk out of the canteen as he took out his handkerchief and touched it to his nose, sniffling.