Poles Apart Page 12
As I dried my hair in the kitchen, I tried not to look in the mirror at the dark circles residing under my eyes; I’d sort them out with some concealer at work. I didn’t own much make-up, mainly because I couldn’t afford to buy it, so I always just used the stuff they had at the club.
I plopped down next to Rory, resting my head back on the sofa. I really could just do with going to sleep right now instead of going to work until after two in the morning. “Sasha’s asleep. Don’t stay up too late tonight, okay?” I croaked, my voice sounding husky and sore.
He smiled sympathetically. “Are you sure you can’t just call in sick?”
I shook my head. “Can’t afford it. I’ll be fine; it won’t be too busy tonight.” At least I hoped it wasn’t too busy. If it was too much I could pull in a favour and have Lucie do one of my tables if I got too tired. She owed me because I worked three of her tables a couple of weeks ago when she was sick. Lucie Cooper was my good friend at the club; she was the person who made it possible for me to go back to school when I got pregnant. She was a single mother, too. Her man had walked out on her about three years ago, leaving her with three kids on her own. We helped each other out with babysitting and sleepovers when we needed to. It was nice; she was my best friend even though she was ten years older than me.
Rory sighed. “I wish I could go to work instead of you. As soon as I’ve done my exams, I’ll get a job and take care of you and Sash for a change.” He patted my leg, smiling sadly.
I looked at my little brother. He really was my rock and I loved him so much. “When you finish your exams you’ll be doing your A-levels, buster,” I rebutted sternly, but it sounded a little weak because of me barely being able to talk. “Besides, you take care of us all the time.”
He smiled and shook his head, frowning. This was an old argument. I wanted him to stay in school, and he wanted to leave and get a job. Rory was a smart kid; I couldn’t let him waste his brain because I needed money. That wouldn’t be good for anyone in the long run.
“I’m going now,” I said before he could protest. I couldn’t argue with him tonight, my throat was too sore. “Lock the door and I’ll see you in the morning.” I pushed myself off the sofa and grabbed my keys, mobile phone and purse from the sideboard.
“Emma,” Rory called as I had my hand on the door about to open it. I turned back to face him, just as something came flying towards me. I instinctively caught it and looked down to see a packet of throat sweets. “Don’t forget those.”
I smiled gratefully. “Thanks. See ya.”
The walk to work was uneventful. Well, as uneventful as Central London after dark can be. I ignored a couple of comments from guys drinking and hanging out in the streets. I crossed the road when the door of a pub burst open and two men fell out, fighting and shouting at each other.
By the time I got to work, I was shivering so hard my back was aching. I headed to the shared dressing rooms, saying my hellos to the performers and waitresses as I flopped down into an empty chair. Looking into the mirror, I silently wondered what I could do to salvage the mess that was my face. I really should have called in sick tonight, but I just needed the money too badly. Carson’s money from two weeks ago was already gone, and my wages from the previous week were dwindling down too fast for comfort. I liked to have spare money; I didn’t like to literally live off my wages and then have nothing when it was gone. If I had called in sick tonight then I would be short next week instead, and I couldn’t have that.
Lucie plopped down in the seat next to mine and looked at me worriedly. “Wow, you still look like shit.”
I laughed humourlessly. Way to make a girl feel better about herself, Lucie! “Thanks for that. You look totally bangin’ as usual.”
She laughed and grabbed the make-up bag from the counter, gripping the arm of my swivel chair and turning me to face her. “You obviously don’t feel much better.” She sighed, smiling sympathetically as she started plastering make-up on my face. I closed my eyes and just let her do it, grateful I didn’t have to lift my arms and do it myself.
“I’m okay. I just hope tonight goes quickly. You think if I get in trouble I could push a table or two your way tonight?” I asked hopefully.
“Of course you can, sweetie! Hey, is Carson coming tonight?” she asked, dabbing a thick layer of concealer under my eyes.
I shrugged, not really wanting to think about him. I was still hurting over the beauty in the paper last week. What with being sick, everything just seemed to pile up and I couldn’t stop myself wallowing in self-pity about him. “I hope not,” I admitted. I didn’t want to see him while I was sick. There were two reasons, really. One, I didn’t want him to get sick, as well. And two, I looked a mess, and I didn’t want him taking one look at me and requesting a different waitress. That would kill me, seeing him get dances and flirting with other waitresses right in front of me.
At exactly ten o’clock, there was a bang on the dressing room door. “Doors are now opening, ladies. Waitresses need to come out and take their places to welcome the customers,” Jason called through the door.
I groaned, not wanting to get up. “Let’s get this over with,” I mumbled to Lucie as the six waitresses all stood up, along with the six reserve girls who floated around doing lap dances or covering sections if a girl went to the backroom. Lucie was floating tonight so that was great for me; I knew she’d help me out. I pulled off my tracksuit bottoms and hoodie, slipped on my heels, and then followed them into the club.