That One November Night

Chapter 31: Tell me about Gwen

Connor's POV

After that event, Greg and I kept our distance from one another. He knew that talking to me could potentially lead to me beating the crap out of him even though he technically didn't cheat on me, it wasn't as if we were actually going out: I still found it deceitful. The guy didn't even let me know the name of the prick he lost it too – surely he would have known that at least?

By the stage I began full-time work, I started earning a living and keeping myself to myself. Probably due to the fact that I was only 19, most places wanted experience which I just didn't have. When I eventually found somewhere which would take me on - the corner shop. I gained experience as I looked for something better. I then moved on up in the work for a £1 more than I had been getting before (which was still only just above minimum wage). At first I thought little of it. The staff were pleasant enough, one of which I found a friend in and even though the customers were all stuck up rich people I came to truly enjoy my time there.

I had been working in the snobby clothes place for just over half a year and yet I still had next to no idea how to measure correctly so the boss man had a tendency to leave me on the shop front. For those browsing I just had to stand and smile unless they needed things carried for them in which case id try to make it look like I wasn't struggling with their 10k baggage allowance. Basically I was the centre room assistant and the best thing I got to do was run things up and down the stairs.

Today was an off day. Few customers in. Mainly just pre-booked clients. That meant hardly anything for me to do and I had already taken my lunch break so there was even more standing around to be done. "Hey Connor?" I looked up to the girl in matching uniform who was stood behind the desk trying to get my attention, I smiled at her with a raised brow, "Yo what up?" She skimmed at the book in front of her which she had just been checking over with an email which had come through on her computer; turned around to the rack behind her; started looking for a specific piece. Lifting it from the rest, "Here," she began, "this needs taken upstairs to measurements".

I took the blazer wrapped in an air tight plastic bag, I checked the name tag and other piece of paper which had the designer's name, price of the clothing and other unimportant crap scribbled on it. As soon as it was handed to me, she lifted the book and was running her finger down the page. I knew how the game worked by now though, she was looking for the fitter's name who would be written next to the client's. "It's alright," I told her making her look up at me, "This client always goes to the same guy so I know where to take it".

"Raymond," she softly pronounced only using half her face.

"Yep, knew it." I retorted.

"But how did you know that?"

"Desmond Winthorpe always asks for Raymond's service when he shops here does he not?"

She leant over the desk, checking that there were no customers, then continued, "He didn't use to, Raymond has worked here longer than I have and I've been here for 3 years. Mr Winthorpe and his family have been coming here for at least 10. But he never asked to see the same fitter until Raymond had to cover a shift a few months back."

"Raymond is good at his job," I told her realising that he was one of the only fitters that I knew well, "maybe this guy just found something about Ray which he liked. Good for business at least, right?"

"But Connor, I think it isn't just work. Like as soon as Desmond met Raymond it was like-"

Cutting her off from her teething gossip fit, "He's my best mate so watch it. Anyway, I need to take this upstairs so um..."