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Is Josie the perfect colleague for Carrie?
ILIKE your daffodil brooch,” Josie said admiringly. “Is it new?” “It is,” Carrie confirmed. “I saw it at a craft fair a while ago and thought it would be nice for St David’s Day, to remember my Welsh grandmother.”
“What a lovely thing to do,” Josie replied.
She was just taking a closer look when a man tumbled in through the shop door, looking confused.
“Hello,” Josie greeted him. “Can we help you?”
“I need a look at your cards,” he replied, and began scrutinising the display.
Josie and Carrie left him to it for a few minutes, but when he began muttering, Carrie piped up.
“Are you sure we can’t help you?” she asked.
“We know our stock of greeting cards very well and we’d be happy to offer assistance.”
“I am a bit lost,” the man conceded. “This is really Debbie’s area of expertise.”
“Your wife?” Josie asked.
“No. Debbie runs the social committee at work.
“She collects money from all our colleagues to pay for the tea and coffee and things for the staffroom.
“It also covers wedding presents, and flowers for anyone having a big birthday.
“Now it’s meant to pay for a leaving present for someone who’s going this afternoon.
“I’m her deputy on the committee, but Debbie’s always on top of everything, so I’ve never had to do anything before.
But now she’s sick, so it’s down to me.”
“You need to find a leaving present by this afternoon?”
“Not a present – Debbie sorted that out weeks ago, thankfully.
“But now people are saying there ought to be a card.”
Carrie and Josie agreed that a card would, indeed, be suitable for this kind of occasion.
The man looked at his watch.
“I need to have it in the MD’S hands in around five minutes.”
“Here we are,” Josie declared. “We have ‘Sorry You’re Leaving’ or ‘Warmest Wishes On Your Retirement’.
“Possibly the retirement style is more appropriate for your purposes.”
“You have a card for everything!”
“More than one, actually,” Carrie replied.
“We have this one with a garden scene, or this with wine and cheese.
“You can have balloons, yachts at sunset, or a comic one with an old black and white picture.”
“I’ve worked with him for fifteen years and I’ve never heard him tell a joke,” the man replied.
“But the garden one looks perfect.”
The customer paid, thanked Carrie and Josie again, and dashed off.
“There goes a man for whom everything has always been done by a woman,” Josie pronounced.
“That’s rich, coming from you!” Carrie said with a laugh.
“You love the fact that Ian doesn’t even know how to switch the iron on, or the washing machine, or work the timer on the oven.
“It means you’ll always be Queen Bee.”
“That’s entirely different,” Josie replied haughtily. “Oh, really? How so?” “Because in our house we have designated roles.” “Oh?” “Certainly. Ian washes the car and wheels the bins out and changes the lightbulbs.
“I take care of the shopping and cooking and laundry. It’s simple division of labour – perfectly fair.”
Carrie thought about it for a moment.
If she ever found someone with whom to settle down, she liked the idea of sharing everything instead of divvying up jobs.
She would like to cook, but also to be cooked for, and she hoped that either party would be capable of putting on a wash, or changing a lightbulb where needed.
But she wouldn’t rush to be critical of her friend – Josie might have fixed ideas on masculine and feminine roles, but it seemed to work for them.
They had been married for almost 20 years and Carrie didn’t know a happier couple.
“Am I your deputy, Carrie?” Josie asked.
“If I say yes, will you be asking for a pay rise?”
“It’s not about the money. It’s about the status.”
“In that case, I’d say you’re more than a deputy, Josie,” Carrie replied with a smile.
“You’re my indispensable right-hand woman.”
More next week.