Fast Forward 6 Months
Puttin' On The Ritz
"Peacock!" called Mel from across the warehouse.
"Sir?" Stephen answered as he strode up to him.
"Isn't your wife's birthday coming up soon? I did hear you talking about that over lunch the other day, right?"
"Yes, sir. In about a week and a half," Stephen stated.
"Well, there's a coat that's been returned damaged. It's quite dear, but the firm will let it go to an employee for a song," Mel explained, "I've offered it to the
others since they've been here longer, but they either couldn't afford it or were not interested in it. So now I'm offering it to you."
"Why would I buy my wife a damaged coat for her birthday, sir?" Stephen felt a little put out. He tried to hide his hurt ego
"Because it's a 3000-quid Giuliana Teso Silver Fox Swing Coat."
Stephen's ears perked up, "I see. How 'damaged' are we talking?" The wheels started turning in Stephen's head.
"The lining is torn and it needs a button. For the cost of a good repair and dry-cleaning, the coat will be good as new, and it will still be a 3000-quid coat."
Mel winked at Stephen deviously and led him to the rack where the coat hung. It was exquisite: ¾ length, it featured a shawl collar and spiral sleeves. It had
two exterior pockets and a silk lining in solid. It closed with furrier's locking clips.
"Betty would love that!" Stephen cried.
Mel took out a yellow pad and began to scribble some figures and muttering to himself,"3000 pounds minus 40% for damages equals 1700. Seventeen
hundred with your employee discount of 15% off 3000, is 450, equals 1250. Another 10% for 'shop dirty' is 125, equals 1125 and on sale at 20% is 225,
equals 900, minus VAT of 10%, the total comes to 810 pounds."
"It's all on the up and up?" asked Stephen. He did not know how it worked in the warehouse and wanted to be sure that it was legal. It'd be embarrassing
to give Betty a coat and be taken away by the fraud police.
"Yes, Stephen. As the shop steward, I can give certain discounts. Didn't you authorize such discounts when you were at Grace Brothers?"
"Yes. I guess I never heard the sale clerks do a line-by-line discount. I checked over their figures and signed the chits. We never had clothes returned as
damaged and then sold. Usually damaged items were sent to the warehouse."
"Well, that's where this coat ended up!"
"Whew! That's a lot of overtime!" Stephen interjected. He knew it would be worth it. Betty worked hard at her job; she deserved a bit of luxury.
"You could put it on your staff account."
"True. I'll take it!" _
Taking the coat to the Tailor's
During Stephen's lunch hour, he took Betty's coat to Burnham's Tailor Shop as recommended by the head of the Ladies' Department, Mrs. Eastham. She was
a handsome woman, grayish hair worn short, about 50 years old. She was slender, had a long nose, and wore gem-framed glasses on a chain. She had a
dainty chin with a cleft. Her steely eyes looked right through Stephen, which made him uneasy.
"They do wonderful work, Captain Peacock. And I'm not just saying this because my brother-in-law owns it! Now, you need to be off the sales floor during opening
hours," Mrs. Eastham scolded.
"Yes. Ma'am," he acquiesced.
Now he knew how Mr. Harman felt.
He entered the shop, the little bell over the door jingling.
"Are you being served, sir?" asked the assistant tailor, Mr. James.
"Mrs. Eastham from Woodward and Lothrop sent me. I need this coat to be repaired; the lining is torn and a button is off," Stephen explained, "The coat
could also do with a good cleaning and going-over."
"Certainly, sir."
The gentleman's hands were perfect. He deftly handled the coat, turning the sleeves and putting his own arms into them. He assessed the damages and
assured Stephen that the coat could be restored to brand-new condition.
"When do you need the coat, sir?"
"My wife's birthday is in 9 days."
"Well, that's a bit short-notice, but we can have it ready by Tuesday next, since Mrs. Eastham did recommend us," Mr. James stated confidently.
"Very good. About how much will it cost?"
"Since it is a rush order, there's a 10% fee. It shouldn't be more than 10 pounds."
"That's fine," said Stephen with a nod.
Mr. James filled out the work order and gave Stephen a ticket with the order number stamped on it.
Stephen picked up the coat, as promised, on Tuesday during his lunch break. It was repaired, cleaned, and looked beautiful. He took the coat to the
customer service counter in the Ladies' to have it gift-wrapped. He worked a double shift to allow himself ample time to hide the parcel, a rather large and
cumbersome box, wrapped in flowery paper.
Wednesday: Betty's birthday.
Stephen stepped off the bus and strode over to the newspaper and flower stand. The salesgirl, Naomi, smiled sweetly at him. She was 16, slim, with bright
hazel colored eyes and light brown hair. She wore a cobbler's apron and a blue hair ribbon, which set, off her eyes.
"Good evening, Captain Peacock!" she bubbled. Over the past year and a half, they became friends. He saw her every morning as he bought a newspaper
for his bus ride to work. During the past year, he made a nightly stop at the newsstand to buy flowers for his Betty.
"Good evening, Naomi," he greeted, "Today is Mrs. Peacock's birthday, do you have any red roses?"
"I do! Would you like a dozen?"
"Two dozen," he smiled.
She gently pulled a length of brown kraft paper to wrap them in. She removed the roses from the from the water cans, allowed the excess water to drip from
them, and set them on the counter. She rolled the flowers in the paper and secured them with a piece of sellotape.
"How much?" he asked as she handed him the parcel.
"Three pounds, fifty."
He handed her a five note, "Keep the change!"
"Thank you, Captain Peacock! Tell Mrs. Peacock 'Happy Birthday' from me."
"I will. Good evening, Naomi."
"Good evening, sir."
He began his trek to the house, cradling the flowers. He leaned in and inhaled deeply. The roses smelled rich and he hurried along.
Arriving Home
He closed the door gently. Betty greeted him.
"Happy Birthday, Darling!" he chirped and handed her the bundle of roses, deep red, which matched her hair.
"Ooooohh, they're lovely!" she gushed, burying her face in them.
He cradled her face in his hands and kissed her, "Happy birthday. Where would like to go for dinner?"
"I think I fancy Greek food tonight. Could we go out for Greek food?"
"Anything you like; it's your birthday. I'm going up for a shower and a shave. Change into something pretty," he flirted.
Betty finished dressing and waited in the lounge. Stephen descended the staircase, carrying the large, weighty box, wrapped in fancy paper. He sat down
beside Betty with the box perched on his lap. He grinned broadly at her and slid the box over, "Happy Birthday, Betty."
She tore the paper daintily and set it aside. She lifted the lid and peeled open the tissue paper. She drew her breath in sharply, her eyes popped wide.
"Oh! Oh!" she wailed, her eyes filling with tears. He sat up proudly.
"Darling, don't cry. You'll mess up your make-up! Come here. There, there," he soothed, "would you like to try it on?"
She nodded through her tears. She stood up and he held the coat open for her to put her arms in. She gasped as she wrapped her arms around herself, her
eyes danced.
He enjoyed this. She spun round and the coat swung fluidly. She jumped at him, throwing her arms around him. He bent forward and she showered his face
with kisses.
"Thank you, Stephen! I love you!" she squealed.
"Do you like the coat?"
"Yes! I do!" She nuzzled his chest and squeezed him tightly.
"Then shall we be off to dinner?"
The alarm clock jangled, rousing Stephen. He leaned over to tap it before it could wake Betty. She leapt up, lurched toward him, and wrapped her arms
around his neck. She slid on top of him, straddling him. His breath quickened. She kissed him and he moaned slightly, eyes half open. He ran his hands over
her breasts.
"Oh, Betty! Is this a continuation of last night?" he panted.
"In your dreams, Stephen!" she snapped as the alarm bell rang, this time for real.
His eyes fluttered open and he looked around the room. It was silent and dark. He looked at Betty, who was sound asleep. Her deep red hair was mussed
and she slept peacefully curled next to him; she didn't even stir as he moved. He let out a long dejected sigh.