EPISODE 4 Curtains My Dear, Curtains

The Handsome Delivery Man Helps With The Hanging Up

Though Julia went into Randall's to pay for the curtains in person, she had no intention of personally lugging them home. She wanted them delivered.....to her door. She had her reasons, she'd need a hand putting them up, for one. Margot required only two things; that those bally curtains and Ms Goodall-Smillie be dispatched fully understanding what was not negotiable and not refundable.

So once she'd put one foot through the door of Randall's Margot began laying out to Julia mostly what their liabilities were not. Julia simply nodded her head and automatically mouthed a 'Yes' whenever she thought it called for. That these also slightly resembled yawns did not deter Margot, she'd dealt with her type many times before. Instinctively understanding the rules of Julia's game,

she concluded with, 

'if it is easier for you we will deliver at no extra cost. ' 

Having finally heard what she'd come to hear, Julia said

'Thank You!' 

followed by a coda of affected sincerity

'you're so kind' 

then abruptly headed out in the direction of home.

When it dawned on her there'd been no mention of a day or time of delivery. She swung quickly back into Randall's, stuck her neck and head through the doorway and barked 

'When?' 

Margot started, reclaimed her unflappable poise and replied

' Oh I expect it will be in the next hour or two, Rogerio's last local delivery is never later than 3pm'. 

Julia, noted the name, suddenly felt the siren call of her second home - the corner off licence. It was not even a detour.

Rogerio Marsden did small local deliveries just in the Brimmingham to Whittlechurch area, for local and national companies. Mostly, but not exclusively Randall's. Everyone appreciating his flexibility and van for hire at short notice. Not on theirs, nor anyone else's pay roll, the call today was a blessed relief. It had been really quiet for a couple of weeks. Things were finally picking up, hopefully.

He tootled his freshly washed and waxed white van round to Randall's. Picked up the package from the always expressionless Ms Treadwell in order dispatch. Placing the boxes in the back of the van, puzzled that this curtain delivery was barely a few streets away.  Like everyone he knew of Julia Goodall-Smillie by gossipy reputation. A few minutes later, about to meet her for the first time, he straightened his crumpled trousers and livery jacket and stepped up to her door. 

The door opened a fraction of a second before he'd completed the move to grasp the knocker. Causing him to stumble, then losing balance through trying not to drop the boxes, tipped over onto the entrance floor.  Julia stood there in what she thought her 'Queen Bey' pose. From the perspective of the coir doormat she appeared remarkably lofty in stature, with artfully bedraggled hair. Her person confidently armoured in a turquoise leather jacket, sculpted scarlet dress, heavy industrial bangle earrings and multiple asymmetric necklaces made of large angular bones. One hand firmly rested on the door jamb. whilst the other limply grasped an empty flute glass like a sceptre. None of this casually thrown together. As Rogerio recovered and straightened himself up he caught a whiff of her perfume - the recognisably astringent burp of mid afternoon alcohol.

Julia stood there for a while too long, giving the half prone Rogerio the once over. Mid twenties, tight wavy hair, as unruly as his clothing ( hopefully ) five-six ish, slight wiry body form, face of a dark haired bloody angel. God she'd eat him for lunch, if only she had the cutlery - however - already far far far too drunk. Maybe she could just playfully tinker with him, like a car engine.

Rogerio, for one moment completely forgot his purpose. Mangled himself back into his delivery man role, standing up straight.

'Curtain delivery from Randall's..... could you sign here please. Lovely day'

'Depends, doesn't it? Could you bring them through into my front room.'

Alarm rattled through his diminutive form, warning - do not enter - even as he actually did. He followed Julia into the front room, which so startled him he exclaimed  -

'Blimey, thats.....bright'

He looked around trying to take it all in. Completely at a loss what to make of it. This was amazingly garish, a lavish mess. The person who put this together must be unspeakably wealthy, but, as was so often the case, not a single ounce of good taste to go with it. The vulgarity of the decor was unhinged.  

He jumped out of his skin.  Julia stood right behind him, was speaking into his ear.

'These curtains you're delivering are to replace those abominations'

Pointing up at the swollen swags of Waffled Apricot. Rogerio wondered what was so wrong with them, considering the rest of the room.

'Could I request, half an hour, half an hour or so to just help me out a bit here. I'll make it worth your while. Just to hang these new curtains. Another strong able pair of hands, so so much better' 

Julia hoped that was being pleasant and charming enough. When it came to her persuasive abilities her performance had often proved  misjudged. What Rogerio saw was her manner slipping from overly assertive to overly flirtatious and unnervingly nearer to physical contact.

'Well, I do have another job in a hour. '

Rogerio immediately realised what a monumental mistake that was. Now he had no wriggle room at all should he need to make a quick exit.

'Well we'd better crack on then - Rogerio'

'She knows my name!'

The existing curtains had jupiter rings, so once the curtain rail supports were loosened, they easily slid off.  Julia unpacked the new curtains, proffering them to Rogerio. The fabric cradled in his arms was heavy and instantly made his skin crawl. His hands dusted with purple as he took them out from their plastic bags. It took a long while, with Rogerio, single-handedly fiddling clumsily with the cumbersome weight of the curtains, at the top of a high rickety ladder.

Julia, meanwhile, enjoyed 'scaring the bejeezus' out of the young man. This was a new game, faking uncontrollable lust. She thought of it as calculated revenge for all the times she'd been leered and pawed over. Standing on the bottom rung objectifying his bottom, holding not the ladder but his ankles, then the shins. Eventually ending with both hands buttressing those peachy buttocks. By the time he came down Rogerio's face was bright red. So flushed that he failed, at first, to notice that a purple pink staining was now creeping up his arms, in the direction of his neck. When he did he squealed in Portuguese -

'Merda!'

then

' What the hell is this?  Look at my arms! I've caught some disease off these fucking curtains. An allergic reaction or something. I have to get out of here. Go to A& E. I'm leaving, right now......its unbearably itchy.....Agh!'

Rushing out of the room, the front door, then driving off speedily and erratically. Julia shouting after him -

'Oh don't worry my dear baby boy, that's nothing a bit of Aloe Vera Sanitiser and a deep rub of Germoline wont deal with'

Taking an admiring look up at her new curtains, she felt triumphant -

'Well, that was a lot of fun'

Next Week - The Final Episode of

Curtains My Dear, Curtains
EPISODE 5 - Contact Tracing Leads To An Unexpected Find

Will be posted Friday 4th February 2022