The Improbable Adventures of Millie

By Catherine Harkness

One thing all Millies friends agree on is that shes a klutz. Give her anything for more than thirty seconds, and shell drop it, spill coffee on it, or trip over it. No wonder she cant hold down a job.

Then she meets Quentin, an employer with a difference. Doesnt he notice her accidents? Or doesnt he care? This job is unlike any other; suddenly, being accident-prone is an advantage. It looks as though Millie has found the perfect job . . .

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse UK
• Release date: Jul 15, 2015
• ISBN: 9781504945103

Catherine Harkness

Catherine lives in the wilds of Southern Scotland. She has spent half her life creating the future narrative of people's lives as a journalist, sociologist, teacher, and counsellor while the other half has been spent documenting the stories of people's pasts as a ghostwriter. The dramas that have surrounded her throughout her life are threaded through her novels. You can visit her website at http://catherineharkness.uk.

Book preview

© 2015 Catherine Harkness. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse 07/07/2015

ISBN: 978-1-5049-4509-7 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-5049-4510-3 (e)

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models,

and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Cover design by Sue Whitmore

Contents

Acknowledgments

Chapter 1– Fired

Chapter 2– The Boutique

Chapter 3– The Motor Parts Shop

Chapter 4– The Supermarket

Chapter 5– Quentin

Chapter 6– First Day

Chapter 7– The Councillor

Chapter 8– Dogs

Chapter 9– Stationery

Chapter 10– Stakeout

Chapter 11– The Garden Centre

Chapter 12– The Parents

Chapter 13– The Empty Hutch

Chapter 14– The Two Bruces

Chapter 15– The Perfect Job

About the Author

For Xander, Torquil and Stuart. With love.

Acknowledgments

Thank you to all those who helped Millie along her way and to you, the reader, I would like to say thank you for choosing this book. I hope you have a blast! It was fun to write.

Chapter One

Fired

Mr Robertson, the vice-principal, put his head round the door. ‘Mildred, would you come into my office, please?’

Mildred?’ Nobody called her Mildred except her parents, and that was only when she was in trouble. As she stood up from her desk, her sleeve caught a pile of papers which cascaded on to the floor. Steve Robertson raised his eyebrows and pursed his lips before turning back and walking towards his office. Millie ignored the mess and followed him.

She shut the door behind her as he indicated the upright chair facing his desk. He looked extremely serious and Millie wondered which of her many mistakes he was annoyed about this time. Was it her last lost battle with the photocopier? The new one always defeated her and never copied anything the right way round or printed on the side it was supposed to – a bit embarrassing on the last occasion when copying agendas for the Principal’s weekly meeting.

Mr Robertson cleared his throat and hesitated before saying ‘Mildred, you know we’ve all been through an economic recession… and like many businesses, and the college isn’t exempt, we have to pay our way, you know, we’ve come out the other side, survived it, but need to tighten our belts, as it were, and make cutbacks where we can, to ensure we go forward into the future with a robust balance sheet….’ He tailed off and looking uncomfortable, cleared his throat again. ‘I…I’m afraid, Millie, there’s no easy way to say this, but we have to let you go.’

Millie stared at him, her brain whirling. ‘Let me go? Do you mean I’ve got the sack?’

‘You must understand Millie, these are difficult times…’

‘You can’t…….I can’t… I’ve been here four years, longer than lots of other people. Anya’s only been here three months! Why me?’

‘I know this is difficult for you, but we do have to streamline our operation….’

‘How is giving me the sack, streamlining things?’ Millie interrupted. ‘Who else is going?’

‘It’s all part of ongoing discussions. We would, of course, be giving you a meaningful severance package…..and of course, excellent references.’ Steve Robertson leaned back in his tall leather chair, watching Millie as she struggled to absorb the situation.

She finally broke the silence. ‘When do I leave?’ she said flatly.

Steve Robertson relaxed. He had anticipated a longer battle. ‘Well, I can imagine it’ll be difficult, awkward, to continue to work here when everyone knows you’re…..er…leaving, so I suggest we pay you in lieu of notice and you can leave as soon as you like. I’m sure Anya can take over any unfinished tasks.’

I bet she could, thought Millie bitterly, Miss flippin’ Perfect. She’d never type the wrong courses on three hundred timetables or email all the kitchen staff with invitations to a senior management meeting.

Somehow word had got around and there were a few sympathetic glances in the office when she went back to put her few unfinished jobs into piles on her desk and pack up her belongings. She put the photograph of Sapphire in the box on top of the pile of personal items she’d tipped out from her drawers. At least Sapphire will appreciate me not going to work she thought. Even if Millie was busy with something in the flat, Sapphire had a cat’s awareness of who was where and always showed slight resentment at Millie dashing off immediately after breakfast.

Anya came up to her as she was leaving. ‘I’m really sorry you’re going, Millie.’

‘Me too.’ Paula stood up and came across. ‘We’ll really miss you.’

‘Thanks,’ said Millie. No mention of a ‘leaving-do’ or effusive sorrow. Embarrassment seemed to be the order of the day. As she struggled with the door, carrying the box, she just said ‘Bye, everyone.’

‘Bye,’ said six voices.

It was only when she was standing by her car in the car park that she realised she’d left her handbag with her car keys on the back of her chair.

Oh bother, bother, why didn’t she check? Now she’d have to face everyone again.

She sidled into the office, ‘Forgot my bag’ and without looking at anyone grabbed her bag, and her cardigan; she’d forgotten that too. As she walked quickly towards the door she heard a muffled snigger.

‘Oh to hell with them,’ she said out loud as she waited for the lift. The doors opened as she said it and one of the IT lecturers, who looked about twelve years old, gave a small smile as she stepped in but he said nothing as they travelled to the ground floor.

22406.png

‘I’ll have to get another job, you know,’ Millie said to Sapphire as she tore open a sachet of cat food. Sapphire, tortoiseshell and white with some long hair in her family tree, stared up at her with the beautiful big blue eyes that had inspired her name. ‘And have to do it quickly before I run out of money. Got to pay for your food and litter, and rent, and electricity and phone..’ she said, panic starting to flutter in her stomach. ‘In fact, Sapphire, I’ve got to find another job immediately. Bother, should have got a paper on the way home so I could..’

The phone interrupted her conversation.

‘Hi Mil, it’s Lynne. Thought I’d better remind you, seeing as you’ve a sieve for a memory, that tomorrow’s Saturday and we’re going to shop ‘til we drop. I tell you I can’t wait, I’ve had enough of revision classes and it’s still three weeks to the exams. This year’s worse than last. Are you there?’

‘I’ve lost my job.’

‘What? Lost your job? What do you mean?’

‘I’ve been fired, given the sack.’

‘Oh my God, Mil. Why? What did you do?’

‘Nothing, he just said there had to be cutbacks…’

‘But you’ve been there ages. What about that new girl, Angie, or something?’

‘Anya. Oh she’s still there.’

‘Oh God, when do you leave?’

‘I’ve left already. Today. This afternoon. I can’t go shopping, I can’t spend any money, I’ve got to find another job straight away.’

‘Look, Mil, I’ll be round at half nine in the morning and we’ll go out and talk properly. You don’t need to spend any money, lunch is on me. We can discuss it all then. In fact, do you want me to come round tonight? Now?’

‘No, no Lynne, it’s OK, I need to get my head round it. Need to think, get used to it. I’ll be able to talk about it tomorrow.

‘Well, OK.’ Lynne sounded doubtful. ‘If you want to phone later this evening, make sure you do, I’ll be here. Are you sure you’ll be OK?’

‘Yes, yes, I’ll be fine. I’ll see you tomorrow.’

Millie wasn’t exactly fine. She couldn’t settle, even sitting with a mindless book and Sapphire on her lap, so went to bed early and lay awake for hours going over the events of the day and worrying about the future. It was going to be strange on Monday, not dashing to get ready and to get out of the door by eight-fifteen.

22282.png

Lynne arrived on the dot of nine-thirty.

Millie’s hand poised over the kettle. ‘Want a coffee before we go?’

‘No thanks. I think we should have a coffee out, before we do anything else.’

Millie picked up her bag from the sofa and collected her coat from behind the door. ‘Remember I’m in poverty mode, and will be until I get another job.’

Once in town they headed for the nearest Starbucks.

To stave off Lynne’s launch into the job situation, Millie asked quickly, ‘Seeing Rick tonight?’

Lynne made a rueful face, ‘Nope, he’s watching football with his pals this afternoon and apparently celebrations – or not – are going to continue in the pub tonight. Honestly, Mil, you don’t know how lucky you are sometimes not to have a boyfriend.’

‘I don’t know about that. Thanks,’ she said as Lynne pushed her coffee across the table, ‘I owe you. If I had a boyfriend at least I wouldn’t have to face things on my own, and if I lived with someone at least the bills would be halved. The ‘severance pay’ is barely going to cover two months’ rent.’

‘Now, tell me all about it,’ Lynne sat back in her seat. Why do you reckon they fired you?’

‘They said the college was tightening its belt because of the recession and…….’

‘Why not that girl Anya, though? She’s hardly been there any time.’

‘Huh, ‘cos she’s young, size 10, blonde and beautiful.’

‘That’s rubbish. You’re only thirty-three and you’re slim too, petite and got that gorgeous hair. I’d give anything to have your long, thick curls. People pay a fortune to have it coloured your colour, all red-gold. And you’ve nice eyes even if you do tend to look like a scared rabbit most of the time.’

‘Yes, but I’m not beautiful.’

Lynne considered for a moment. ‘OK, no, not beautiful as such, but you’ve got a nice, sort of normal face. Pleasant.’

‘Well, it doesn’t help that I make mistakes sometimes, I suppose.’

Lynne gave a hoot of laughter. ‘Mil, you are the most accident-prone person I know. An absolute klutz on top of that. Let’s face it you’d bump into the walls in an empty room!’ She caught sight of Millie’s expression and said quickly ’But it doesn’t make you a bad person, we love you just the same, but perhaps some jobs would suit you better than others. I think you’d be better off not doing office work – all those papers to muddle up.’

Millie nodded morosely.

‘And definitely not in a china shop!’ Lynne added with a grin. ‘So, my idea is, that you help me find the perfect bag. I cannot go another week trying to get my lot prepared for their geography O-grade without a new bag to keep me going. On the way we’ll look for a job for you.’

‘How can we look for a job and look for a bag at the same time?’

‘Well I think you shouldn’t even bother looking for office work. Shop work! It’d be perfect.’ Lynne said triumphantly. ‘What could be better? You’d only have to master the till and then it’s a doddle. Lots of nice people coming in and you sell them things that make them happy! Like a new bag. And shops put ads in the window for new assistants. Come on, drink up.’

As Millie lifted her handbag off the back of the chair, the strap caught and the chair tipped over with a crash. She blushed, picked up the chair, straightened it, and followed Lynne out of the door.

After forays into a couple of handbag shops Lynne decided to head for TKMaxx. ‘Keep your eyes open for notices,’ she said.

‘I was thinking I might try asking at a department store,’ suggested Millie.

Lynne dismissed the idea. ‘No, they have management training schemes and’d give you loads of forms to fill in. It’d be ages before you hear.’

They did see several advertisements for vacancies in shop windows but they were all for Saturday girls.

Then, as Millie was saying ‘It’s no good…’ Lynne said ‘Look, there’s one!’

The small notice was in the window of an upmarket dress shop. It stated that a permanent sales advisor was wanted ‘Hours to Suit’.

‘That’s too posh,’ Millie protested. ‘They don’t even have prices on the stuff in the window, they’re way too expensive.’

‘You’re not being asked to buy them, just sell them. Perhaps you’ll get a nice juicy commission too.’ She pushed open the door and a bell gave a discreet jangle.

The shop was empty apart from a forbidding woman in her fifties, with gold-rimmed glasses hanging from a chain round her neck. Her hair was tightly coiffured and she was dressed all in black.

‘Can I help you?’ she enquired.

Lynne pushed Millie forward.

‘I’ve… er…I’ve come about the job advertised in the window.’

The woman looked Millie up and down, from her long curly hair to her jeans and flat pumps.

‘We sell to a very select clientele,’ she said, ‘do you have any experience in the retail trade?’

‘No’, said Millie. ‘I’ve been working in a college and..’

At the sound of ‘college’ the woman softened, it was obviously more upmarket than simply an office.

‘Well, I do need someone, it does get difficult when there’s a rush on.’

Neither Lynne nor Millie could imagine there being a ’rush’ in this small, hushed and very expensive shop.

‘We don’t wear slacks, I’d expect you to wear a dark skirt, and nothing revealing,’ she said sternly. ‘I pay a pound above the minimum wage.’ The woman made it sound like untold riches. ‘I could start you on a two week probation period, to see how you get on. Can you start immediately?’

‘Oh yes.’

‘Right, Monday morning. Please come at eight-thirty so I can instruct you on the sales procedure. The till is computerised so there should be no problem. Your name?’

‘Mildred, Mildred Brown.’

‘Mildred? An unusual name these days.’

‘My parents were fans of Mildred Bailey…’ she tailed off, the woman was not interested in Mildred’s parents’ predilection for 1930s jazz.

‘I’m Irene Thomas. I’ll see you on Monday, eight-thirty sharp.’

As soon as they were past the shop, Lynne gave a skip of delight. ‘See, not even a day unemployed! And it’ll be perfect for you, I doubt if you’ll even have any customers to serve. I think you’ll find that getting fired was the best thing that’s happened. You’re well shot of that college, they sound a toffee-nosed lot and you were always having to watch your back.’

‘Slacks!’ Millie said. ‘Who calls them slacks these days? How am I going to work with that woman? I’ve got nothing in common with her.’

‘Well, you had nothing in common with that lot at the college’ Lynne pointed out. ‘Nothing at all. They sounded pretty nasty, all that in-fighting and politics, and you’re a lovely caring person.’

‘But shop work, I’ve never done that…’

‘Told you, it’ll be a doddle. Have you told your Mum you’ve lost your job?’

Millie shuddered. ‘Haven’t dared. But I suppose I’ll have to. The parents need to know where I am in case they need me.’

Lynne gave a shout of laughter. ‘Yea, right. Like your Mum’ll ever need anyone else…sorry, but she’s so organised and self-contained.’

‘Yes, she’s pretty efficient. I’m such a trial to her. I don’t know how I can tell her I’m doing shop work, she’d think it was such a come-down. She only suffered me working in an office because it was for a college and sounded more intellectual somehow.’

‘If you tell her it’s a posh boutique and you’re an ‘advisor’ rather than an assistant, she’ll probably be fine. What about Amy? Told her?’

‘No. Not told anyone but you. I know I should tell Amy but I’m putting it off. It was her telling me last time we went there and I spilled red wine on the carpet, that I wouldn’t be so clumsy if I focused more and tried harder.’

Millie and Lynne walked on in silence for a few moments, reflecting on their mutual friend Amy. She was a successful solicitor in a city practice, a high-earner, smart and strong-willed. First a friend of Lynne, with whom she’d been at university, she had then included Millie in her circle. The three of them enjoyed each other’s company but Amy was somewhat intolerant of Millie’s disaster-prone character, believing it to be simply a matter of self-discipline, whereas Lynne found it endearing and knew Millie could do nothing about it.

The comfort-shopping was finally successful and they went for lunch at an Italian restaurant with Lynne clutching her perfect bag.

‘Five zip pockets, brilliant, and a super cross-body strap as well,’ she said, taking it out of the pink paper carrier and admiring it.

Millie looked up from the menu she was studying. ‘It is really lovely’ she agreed. ‘By the way, I’m paying my share of this lunch, seeing as I’m gainfully employed again.’

Halfway through her carbonara Millie said ‘You know I’m really nervous about this job on Monday.’

‘Oh you’ll be fine. Sorry, I hate people who say ‘you’ll be fine’ when they haven’t a clue how things are going to turn out and there’s me doing it. I didn’t mean to dismiss your worries, I just can’t see what could go wrong. All you have to do is master the till, and then just smile and be your normal friendly self. By the way, have you got a black skirt and a ‘not too revealing’ top?’

‘Oh yes, in the back of my wardrobe, not touched for years, in fact, since the interview for the college job. Black skirt and brown, black and white blouse, small geometric design – don’t know whether you’ve seen it, but it’ll be perfect. And’ll only be revealing if all the buttons pop off!’

After lunch they wandered round the shops for a couple of hours, Millie buying new tights to go with the skirt.

‘Don’t forget, give me a ring when you get home on Monday, if not before. I want to know every detail of a ‘sales advisor’s’ day,’ Lynne said as they parted.

22286.png

Millie couldn’t bring herself to phone her mother on Sunday. However she spoke to Amy, who phoned as Millie was scooping up dry cat food that had fallen out of the packet, knocked over when she was trying to tidy the sideboard. Sapphire was doing her best to help by eating bits that had rolled under the table.

Amy went into business mode when she heard of Millie’s lost job. ‘They can’t just summarily do that, Mil. What about your trade union? You must apply to them.’

‘The union is pretty defunct, non-existent really, and the rep is useless, she’s in league with the management.’

‘But you’ve got rights, Mil, you must fight this and..’

‘I wouldn’t want my job back, Amy. Really I wouldn’t. I’d have to go back after being fired, it would be horrible.’

Amy gave a loud sigh. ‘Well, it’s up to you, but you’re your own worst enemy.’

‘I’ve got another job, anyway. I start on Monday, tomorrow. I’m working in a really posh boutique, selling clothes that cost a fortune. It’s going to be really fun.’ Millie hoped it didn’t sound as forced at Amy’s end as it did from hers.

‘Oh that’s good’, said Amy, sounding distinctly unenthusiastic. ‘Don’t forget Thursday. You and Lynne are coming round for the evening and we can hear all about it. Come at seven, Chris is going out straight from work so we’ve got the whole evening.’

‘Yes, lovely, look forward to it,’ said Millie, thinking how the activities of both her closest friends were determined by the space left in their lives by their boyfriends.

Chapter Two

The Boutique

At ten past eight on Monday morning, Millie was desperately trying to remove white cat hairs from her black skirt with sellotape. The reel ran out before she’d finished so she gave the remaining hairs an ineffective brush with her hand, blew a morose-looking Sapphire a kiss and dashed out of the door. Deciding it would take longer to park the car than it would to walk into town, she set off at a fast pace. ‘I’ll get the bus home,’ she thought, ‘make a nice change.’

She made it just in time, the shop bell jingling at exactly half-past eight.

Irene Thomas looked at the blouse and skirt but her gaze rested on Millie’s hair, thick curls flowing round her shoulders. ‘Good morning, Mildred. Perhaps you could tie up your hair, or at least pin it up. Our clientele expect certain standards.’

‘Oh yes, right,’ Millie said, remembering previous failed attempts to get her hair to do anything she wanted.

‘Put your coat and bag in the back and then I’ll show you round the stock first before I show you the sales procedure.’

Millie walked through to the back of the shop, moved the velvet curtain aside and went into the small office. There were shelves filled with boxes and files covering one wall. A kettle and a mug stood on a counter and there was a small wall cupboard above them. There were hooks on the other wall. She hung up her coat and bag on an empty hook and went back into the shop. The thickness of the carpet hadn’t registered with her when she’d been in on Saturday, but her small heels sunk into the beige pile as she walked across to Irene. There were clothes in racks on both sides of the shop and on one side there was also a display made up of pink boxes on which there were high-heeled shoes in several shades of pink, grey and beige with matching handbags propped up next to them.

‘This rack is mostly mother-of-the-bride outfits. You can see we have the garments in size order but also grouped by colour,’ Irene said. She reached for a label on one of the dresses and held it out to Millie. ‘You will see the numbers on this, they are the manufacturer’s code and also our stock number, both of which are on the computer.’

Millie could only focus on one number, the price, £1,320! For a dress! She swallowed hard. Was anyone going to come in and pay way over a thousand pounds for a dress!

‘We have a delivery this morning,’ Irene continued. ‘It would be a good idea for you to unpack it, check the items off on the invoice, put the items on the computer and then out on display. You could familiarise yourself with the stock that way.’

‘Right,’ Millie said weakly.

‘Now, the computer and card reader. Quite straightforward.’ Irene marched across to the small counter near the back of the shop. Card reader? Millie hadn’t thought