Thumb Rings and Ballet Slippers
It was one of those places where you could see the dust hang in the air.
Jemima blinked, her eyes adjusting to the sudden darkness that contrasted all too much with the brightness of London's afternoon sunlight, before looking around the room and swallowing the urge to run straight back out the door when her eyes fell on the half open bottle of wine on the bar counter, the black and white photos of burlesque dancers on the wall and the stray woman's shirt dangling from a light fixture. This was not the type of place Jemima frequented, she was a baby, innocent and new to ways of bar life. She imagined walking into this place with Jennyanydots who would go pink and say, in that clear and prissy voice of hers, that she didn't think this was the place for a young lady like Jemima. But her dear Auntie had no idea how desperate she was now. That money she'd been saving wouldn't last her forever, her student welfare benefit wouldn't pay the rent or put money on the table, pennies donated by the general public from busking would only last so long. She couldn't think about asking her family for financial help without her gut churning, couldn't even fathom the conversation she'd have with Victoria when it came to the month that she couldn't pay her keep.
"I have a good feeling about this," her friend said earlier as Jemima fixed her interview make up in the living room, "Do you want this job?"
"I want money," Jemima had replied with a grin. The blonde gave a half-hearted smile before squeezing her friend with comforting arms, sympathy for the younger girl almost oozing from her athletic form as she rested her head on her friend's shoulder.
"You know you don't have to worry about money."
"Oh but I do, I can't give you any excuse to kick me out and leave me destitute."
Victoria had probably thought that Jemima had brushed it off as her being nice, but the other girls reassurance resonated with her in a way she wouldn't be able to comprehend. Jemima's childhood, while not bad, consisted mainly of her sisters working multiple part-time jobs and asking to borrow from their Auntie so worrying about money was all Jemima knew. Victoria hadn't had to think about how she'd pay for her school dinner at the age of six, Victoria hadn't had to walk five miles to school every day because she couldn't afford the bus, Victoria had always had money. Of course, Jemima didn't resent her for this, on the contrary she was incredibly grateful for the stability that her friend provided, she clung to it like a child clings to their Mother. She worried sometimes that she'd suffocate Victoria with her need to be secure, which she supposed was why she'd never fully filled her in on how their pasts differed so much when Victoria had been nothing but entirely open. She didn't want to scare her away. Jemima had a nasty habit of getting too emotionally involved with people, of putting their needs before her own and needing to please them so the thought of making Victoria uncomfortable made Jemima's throat clog with fear and her palms get sweaty.
"Jemima!" she turned, having been looking at some pictures on the wall, and blinked at the familiar face of Etcetera, "You came!"
"Hi," the small girl replied timidly, smiling a little as she made her way to the bar where Etcetera was stood.
"Well I won't waste your time, I'll take you straight to the big boss, okay?"
"Sounds good."
The 'big boss' had an office in the back. It was small and cramped but had an exquisite air to it, with posters of Golden Age Hollywood actresses on the wall, photographs of beautiful women sat around the bar Jemima had just been oggling at and a few shelves of files and discarded paper. The best part about it was the polished desk that shone so beautifully under the ceiling light that Jemima could see her face in it. Sat behind the pretty desk was an even prettier woman who blinked up at her demurely from underneath thick eyelashes.
She had radiant dark skin, thick and curly black hair that framed her face in unruly ringlets. Her face was plump but it was evident she had beautiful bone structure as her high cheekbones hit the light so perfectly and precisely, her lips were rounded and her eyes almost as black as her hair. She wasn't dressed like a 'big boss' usually would, she had a mini black dress on, her shoulders covered by an embroidered shawl and her long legs accentuated by platform heels but she had an air of professionalism that was punctuated by the way her eyes fell over Jemima in the way interviewers often did.
"So you're the girl I've heard so much about," she said, and her voice was like liquid gold, low and rich as though she was permanently reading poetry.
"I suppose so," Jemima said with a smile, uncertain that her usual sweetness would win over this woman.
"My name is Exotica, Exotica Cunningham and I'm the owner of this dump. I'm going to be straight with you, dear, I don't have much time to hire a new bar girl and I've heard that you sing, you're also very pretty. So, I'm more than happy to give you a trial run but I feel like I should fill you in on exactly what will be expected of you before chucking you into the lions den, understand?"
So much for packing my credentials, Jemima thought while trying to prevent her smile from slipping. She couldn't get over that surname either, she had heard it before and suddenly she saw the resemblance between this Exotica and someone else she knew but she couldn't place who. Ignoring it, she nodded while Exotica's eyes trailed over each of her features individually.
"Have you seen the film 'Coyote Ugly'?" she didn't wait for Jemima to respond, "It's like that but with less sisterly solidarity and without wasting alcohol on strip teases. You'll be expected to serve customers, strike up conversation and make them feel as though they'd have a chance of a friendship with you outside of this bar even if you can't stand the sight of them. If you sing, a customer might ask you to sing them a song and you will comply without any hesitation. The people who come here come for the booze and stay for the pretty girls and entertainment, do you get me?"
Jemima nodded slowly, trying to absorb the information that was being thrown at her with reckless abandon. It was pretty obvious that Exotica wasn't buying it either as a teasing smile played on her pretty lips.
"You can ask Etcetera or myself for any help if you need it. You'll be seeing us here mainly but there's more part-time workers dotted around too that you might run into."
"Okay."
"You'll be expected here at half six to set up, the bar opens an hour later. We'll want you to work for at least four days a week, you might be asked in for more. Is that okay?"
"That's great."
With one last look at the new employees form, Exotica nodded her head, "You'll sign a contract at the end of this week if you pass the trial. Can you work tonight?"
Jemima nodded, the anxiety she felt earlier surpassing as it seemed more and more likely that she'd be able to pay rent for the foreseeable future.
"Great. Etcetera has a uniform for you, it's not strict and you're welcome to customise it to your hearts content. In fact, we'd prefer it if you did, adds more character. You'll shadow her tonight, it's Monday so everything is pretty slow so it should be fine. I'll talk to you later about the rest of your shifts this week, okay?"
"Cunningham," Jemima blurted out, instantly regretting her loud mouth as her new employer's eyebrows raised slightly and an amused smile played on her face.
"Yes?" Exotica said, her voice playful.
"I've heard it before is all," Jemima said shyly, "Sorry."
"Not at all," Exotica said, she stood and circled her desk before perching on the edge of it and smiling at Jemima, "We've met before, you were only twelve or eleven at the time though so I didn't expect you to remember. Our sisters were quite close at one point."
And it hit Jemima, she almost laughed when it finally sunk in, "Exotica Cunningham. As in, Cassandra Cunningham's older sister."
A laugh almost as sultry as her voice escaped her lips and she winked. It was as though an instant rapport was made and the younger girl grew more appreciative for having a large and sociable family. For a second, Jemima thanked God for the Cunningham sisters, for they were inadvertently ensuring that her and her room mate had a roof over their head and had no idea.
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"You look gorgeous."
Really? I'm not in the glowing stage quite yet.
Alonzo had left the college for lunch to meet one of the most beautiful women he had the pleasure of knowing, naturally, he'd invited her to his regular coffee shop so that he could also look fleetingly at the pretty blonde behind the counter who was currently stood upright with her face resting on her palm lazily. His lunch companion stared at him with a small smile, her nails painted a deep plum that shone under the lights as she ran her hands through her hair that was straightened so precisely that it framed her face without a single strand of hair out of place. He had a hand on the table as though he was willing her to touch it but he couldn't see the panic going on behind those pretty eyes of hers. She almost clung to it more than once, had wanted to grab it and cry into it because God she was scared.
"Well underpaid college tutor suits you too," she said, nodding at his crisp white shirt that he had unbuttoned slightly so that some of his tan skin peaked from the gaps. She guessed the girls in his class liked that. In her mind they were all baby-faced with ridiculous curves and badly dyed hair, wearing small shorts as the exciting and young tutor rambled on, all too aware of their mascara-ridden eyelashes blinking up at him petulantly. He laughed a little, scratching the back of his neck nervously as both of them knew he could have been so much more. He was a talented dancer, a perceptive writer, an astounding artist. But he wasn't fit for the bohemian lifestyle that occasionally could lead to success like Cassandra had been, and he happened to love his job and his co-workers and his students.
There was a short silence, punctuated by a sigh that fell from her lips as she began to press her fingers to her temples gently and it was suddenly made evident that Alonzo had not simply been asked out to make small talk. He sat up straight, unsure of what to make of her change in posture and the loss of her teasing smile. He was going to ask her what was wrong, was going to take her hand and tell her that he'd help in whatever way he could because she was Cassandra and while they'd never met whatever potential they had, he loved her more than anyone he knew.
"Are you ready to order?" Two pairs of eyes snapped up to look at Victoria who stood there with her dimpled smile and notepad. Alonzo expected Cassandra to snap at her because wasn't it obvious they were in the middle of something? Instead, she smiled back, her eyes warming her pretty face as she requested a decaffeinated black coffee.
"And you'll have your usual?" the blonde said with a grin at Alonzo who nodded, plastering on a smile despite being more than worried about whatever was bothering Cassandra.
"I just wanted to thank you," Victoria blurted out, putting a hand on Cassandra's shoulder, "I, um, I got the job."
Cassandra's smile spread further across her face and Alonzo was pretty sure he'd never seen anything so beautiful, Victoria stood in the beams of that smile and it illuminated her face, causing her cheeks to glow pink and her eyes to shine with tears. It was as though whatever was playing on her mind was eradicated, which puzzled Alonzo but Cassandra understood why with perfect clarity. For if she could help this girl, with her eager smile and shaking hands, then she had done something right. Then this wasn't that scary after all. The older woman clapped her hands together,
"I'm so glad, the boys told me that you danced impeccably," she said, "I'm just so sorry I had to dash out before I got to see it."
"Oh, it's no problem," Victoria said, her own smile widening as she spoke to Cassandra, "I'll just go get your drinks."
With that she was gone. Cassandra watched as she walked away, her brow pursed lightly but her smile remaining. Alonzo almost didn't want to disturb her as it seemed for a moment his lunch companion seemed somewhat relieved, he didn't want her to sigh again or to press her fingertips to her temples, he wanted her to continue smiling. But it was playing on his mind and time was dwindling away, he'd have to set back to get to the college soon, he had a lecture in the afternoon and he knew that they couldn't postpone this, it would drive him crazy.
"Cassie," he mumbled, "Why did you want to speak to me?"
Her smile faltered for a second, her eyes washing over his face uncertainly before she rolled her shoulders back and took a deep breath. Her hands were hot in her lap, itching to cup his face and kiss him sweetly for she knew that potentially she was changing his life and the power she had over him felt incredibly unfair. So she held his hands and felt him panic with the gesture, felt him want to pull away and run out of the café before listening to anything she had to say.
"I just want you to know," she said, keeping her voice level, "You can be as involved with this as you want, I'm not tying you down to anything and..."
"Jesus," the word fell out of his mouth, cutting her short as he stared at her with wide eyes. She flinched slightly for she knew that he'd worked it out, she had been preparing herself for a long speech that went on for so long that he almost lost the meaning of it. Her eyes fell to the table as he took a hand away from her grasp, making her feel cold from the loss of touch. Almost at once, the hand repositioned itself and found it's way to her cheek, brushing away a tear that she hadn't realised had sprung from her eye and was making it's way down her cheek.
"Oh Cassie," his voice was soft, "You're... We're having a baby, aren't we?"
'We.' That pronoun made her gaze snap up and look into his dumbstruck face. Perhaps he had meant it to be comforting but it only suited to remind her that she had no right to do this to Alonzo. Ever since she had to run out of the audition, had felt the bathroom stall walls close around her, she couldn't shake the memory of spending the weekend with him, couldn't shake the thought that perhaps they hadn't been as sensible as they usually would be. It had taken her a whole month after that audition to do a test, another five tests to determine that she really ought to see a doctor, a doctor's confirmation that finally let her believe that she wasn't just dreaming this. That now she was two months pregnant, that she really ought to tell the Father. And it could only be one person and of course it would be Alonzo, it wouldn't be a man in a suit she met at a meeting and decided to take home, it wouldn't be a pair of pretty eyes at a pub, it would be the only person bar her family that she truly cared for.
"Not if you don't want to," she said and her voice was frantic, it didn't suit her, "I mean. I'm having a baby, you don't have to. You're under no obligation to.. To stick around or anything."
He stood and made his way around to her, tears fell down her cheeks rapidly and she knew later that she'd blame it on the hormones instead of the fear that Alonzo would walk away and want nothing further to do with her. He knelt beside her chair and wrapped his arms around her, letting her cry into his shirt and cling to him desperately, almost whining when he pulled back so he could look her in the eye.
"Cassie," she couldn't place an emotion to his voice, "There's no one in the world that I would rather start a family with. So if it's what you want, we'll have a baby and yeah it's a little unexpected but we can deal with it."
Relief washed over her. All she could do was stare at him with wide eyes and a half-open mouth. They were vaguely aware of Victoria loitering uncomfortably a few feet away with their drinks.
"We're having a baby," she whispered.
"We're having a baby," he smiled.
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So much for shadowing, Jemima thought as she poured a drink clumsily for a man in a suit who was smiling at her encouragingly while Etcetera sat with a circle of other customers, playing 'referee' for some silly drinking game. Jemima didn't mind too much though, she'd served people before with co-workers screaming in the background and babies spilling their food all over the lobby floor so this was incredibly easy in comparison. She'd also been introduced as the 'new girl' at the start of the night, meaning that everyone treated her as though she was a delicate doll that would fall apart behind the bar if they spoke too loudly or demanded too much of her. She passed the suited man his order, offering a smile as well as his beer and he smiled back.
"So what's your name, sweetheart?" he said, his smile remaining on his face even when he took a sip from his drink.
"Jemima," she replied as she began to absent mindedly clean the bar's surface. It wasn't very busy at all, there was only this man and the little group that Etcetera was entertaining, previously there had been a young couple that promptly left when they noticed that this wasn't the kind of 'sit down, stake and ale pie and chips' kind of bar and an old man that had requested to speak to Exotica before leaving with a little smile after she kissed him on the cheek affectionately.
"No offence, Jemima, but you seem a little young to be working behind a bar, let alone a place like this," he said, scratching his head a little nervously.
"A place like this?" she inquired, playfulness working to hide her underlying curiosity.
"Y'know, dancing girls and men desperate for a little conversation."
"I didn't think you were desperate for a little conversation, you're doing a very good job of hiding it," Jemima toyed, shrugging when the man began to chuckle, "It's a living."
Etcetera laughed uproariously in the corner as a boy who had obviously only just turned eighteen began to chug at some alcohol and spilled it all down his front like a sloppy toddler. It stole Jemima's attention for a moment so that she was unaware of the man smiling a little at her as she watched intently, she wondered whether that was what her evenings were going to be now, pretending to laugh at silly boys playing at being grown ups. Then she supposed that she herself was playing at being a grown up, she was still convinced that she'd wake up one morning in her bed at Aunt Jenny's with her Uncle calling her for breakfast.
"So what's your trade?" her companion asked her finally, causing her to blink at him with confusion etched into her pretty face.
"Trade?" she queried, raising a brow.
"I've been here more times than I'm willing to admit," he confessed, leaning on the bar slightly, "And Etcetera kind of explained it to me, like you're all performers, right? Like, Etcetera is a dancer and Exotica's hysterical, like she can spark up a conversation with anyone and her humour's so dry, the girl before you was a contortionist which was pretty cool. So what's with you?"
"I sing," Jemima said, ducking her head a little, "But I think that Exotica likes to hire performers because they're confident, I don't think talent comes into it very much."
"Are you being modest?" he shook an accusing finger at her with a smile.
"No," she laughed, "It's just... I was never asked to sing at my interview."
"You must have been hired on your pretty face, girlie," he said, licking his lips a little nervously as she giggled good-naturedly, for he didn't seem to have any malicious intent, despite internally cringing away from him.
She was not good at receiving compliments from strange men especially if they were about her appearance, she didn't know how to react and couldn't help but feel incredibly uncomfortable as his eyes scanned her face, the length of her hair and her petite frame. It was made worse by the fact that this man had to be Uncle Skimble's age, but there was nothing reminiscent of her Uncle in the way this man looked. His hands were tapping incessantly at the bar (not folded neatly in his lap), his hair line was receding though he combed it forward to try and combat this (there wasn't even a hint of orange in those dirty blond locks) and she managed to make out the blue of his eyes when she got past how awfully bloodshot they were (Skimble's eyes radiated warmth and shined when he smiled.) As she listed off the differences, her heart began to sink as she considered talking to lonely middle-aged men like this every night who stared at her as though she was their ticket out of a mundane suburban life. Jemima loved talking to people, even this man who she had dissected with her eyes, and hated being a disappointment. She could give these men a few hours of conversation, could bat her eyelashes at them and let them tell her she was pretty but that wouldn't change the fact that when the bar closes and the buzz has worn off, they have to trudge home alone with thoughts of pretty bar girls clouding their mind.
In the corner, the boy who had made a mess of himself had attempted to stand and fell down on his face, letting a groan escape his lips as he hit the ground.
"We've got a faller!" Etcetera yelled, her voice far too jovial and the people around her far too relaxed about this young boy who lay on the floor. Jemima made her way over, not waiting to be summoned and helped the blonde hoist him up onto a chair as he blinked around the room as though he was following a fly. The man she had been talking to began to clap, joking that he didn't expect such brute strength from such a tiny person. Etcetera winked at her, as though she understood everything that was going on in Jemima's head before loudly and enthusiastically thanking her. Jemima giggled obediently, nodding the group before returning to her man at the bar. As she side-stepped in the tiny door that separated behind the bar from the front, Exotica touched her arm, presumably appearing out of thin air and brought her face very close to their younger girl's.
"I think you're going to fit in fine," she whispered, "Keep helping Etcetera pick drunkards up from the floor and you'll pass this trial run with flying colours."
Oh, how she had missed employment.
(A/N: I have been a very negligent writer and I'm so sorry! It's exam season over in the UK right now and God do I need all the help I can get to pass my exams! How are you all doing? Hoping that you've all been good and if you have exams coming up too, I'm sure they'll go absolutely fine. Thank you for the reviews and as always if you have any notes, please tell me!)