Daddy's Gone 2

2. Holly
Working for Felix is similar, I feel, to working as a whore. A whore will sit in a brothel all day waiting for a customer, I sit in a bar all day waiting for customers, in both cases customers who expect you to do almost anything for the right price. Whores work out of a mixture of choice and necessity, the same reasons for which I work for Felix. Felix is the proverbial Madam of his own establishment, treating all of his staff as dispensable items of scrap. The whores who when broken or beaten are tossed aside are like his staff who when burnt out or tired of telling yet another drunk, overweight, overpaid prick to get his hands off your ass are tossed outside and sent on their way. For small periods of a day a whore will have to be a whore and yes for small periods of the day I am a whore for Felix. The major difference between me and an employee of the sex trade is that I do not actually sleep with Felix. There are many reasons for this, none of which is because he doesn’t want to, that man would probably hump the Virgin Mary just for the dinner conversation with his sociopathic friends afterwards. I am his whore because like Caleb, or anyone else who passes into the employment of this place, we seem to end up being accomplices to any of the numerous acts of indeterminate acceptability in which Felix may wish to involve himself. Some stories I’ve heard are worse than things which I’ve witnessed but from what you see within six months of working in this place you know there’s some seriously messed up things going on. Not least the drugs and women but I’m pretty sure that a bar like this doesn’t make money just by being a bar, but anyway it pays well and it’s good to sort of feel part of a semi-functional system for once.
These are the thoughts which pass through my frozen little mind on my way to work this morning, that and the fact that my period is two days late, I feel bloated and I don’t feel like my body was designed for the London climate. Because even under a jumper, a scarf and a jacket I’m struggling to feel even remotely warm. Why did my Mum decide to stay in this country when she could have easily jumped ship back to France? I mean, I love London but like... the South of France seriously wouldn’t go amiss when I have to contend with extremity frosting cold like this.
I turn off of Mortimer Street and round the corner onto Berners Mews just as the first droplets of an impending shower hit my face, they’re so cold they feel like snow and I curse my idiot Mum again. I can already see Caleb standing in the doorway of The Bar dragging so hard on a cigarette that I’m slightly afraid he may accidentally engorge the whole thing. He’s got his hands firmly stuck in the pockets of his duffel coat, so instead of waving to greet me he uses his lips to in effect wave his cigarette, not quite as good but the sentiment is clear and it really is freezing so it’s understandable.
I don’t get why he’s never hit on me, not once, I don’t want to sound full of myself but I’m a good looking girl and we spend a lot of time alone together, all of it totally platonic. For the sake of my self esteem I’ll put it down to his lack of confidence. Anyway his little wispy goatee and the gold hoop earring teamed with his boy-band attire don’t really do it for me, I prefer men, but still I wouldn’t say no to some innocent flirting. Apparently he would though, maybe he’s gay. I don’t think so though I normally have a sixth sense for that type of thing. No he’s not gay, just blind.
“Why are we standing out here exactly, and not inside?” I ask with teeth beginning to chatter as I pull my face up from its position nestled down in my scarf.
He takes one hand out from his pocket to hold his cigarette and says, “Well it’s the stock take today and I got a message from Felix at about five this morning, telling me that he’s not going to make it so it’s just me and you going solo today I’m afraid, love. I just figured I’d pack in as much nicotine as I could before I have to be stuck indoors for the next four hours trying to decipher how on earth we still make a profit every month.”
This is a fairly valid point, in the six months since I’ve worked here I’ve become accustomed to Felix and his friends easily consuming more in champagne in one sitting than we take in an entire weekend at full capacity. Those idiots have got expensive taste and Felix seems to sit back and let them take him for a ride. “Oh I see, and for what reason is his Lordship absent today then?”
“Just the usual, we were empty last night and he spent all night drooling over another girl who he’s managed to get in the sack. Plying her with drinks and playing the “I own this place” card it’s pretty tragic to watch but I’d love to know how it works every time with so little variation.”
“Yeah alright Cal then maybe we can put him on a TV talent contest and see how many girls he can bed. I don’t think so, enough of the man envy thanks, I think it’s sick, you remember that he’s married and that he has a daughter, don’t you ever think about how they’d feel if they found out about how much of a scumbag he is?”
“No, Holly not really because for a start it’s not my place, secondly I don’t know the woman and thirdly, and no doubt most importantly, he pays me so much to keep his secrets that I doubt I’d tell her even if she was water-boarding me with a car battery hooked up to my balls at the same time.”
“Oh get lost with the male solidarity! It’s a joke and he’s a joke and so are you for buying into it. Let’s face it, if the tables were turned you wouldn’t be singing a woman’s praises for having any man she liked would you?” I don’t leave him time to come up with an answer, “No I’d be here standing in the cold getting an earful about original sin and how women are the root of all evil.”
Caleb puts the cigarette back into his mouth for a final pull before spitting it to the curb, I can tell this is going to be the end of our conversation. Although he’d never admit it, Caleb idolises Felix and he takes criticism of his mentor badly. “Holly I think that possibly, just possibly, you’re getting a little overexcited here. I’m just saying the man’s got talent that’s all. Jesus what’s up with you? I’m not about to lock you in the kitchen and revoke your right to vote.”
“Sorry sorry, I think I’m coming on, at least I seriously hope I am.”
“Way too much information there thanks.” With that he opens the door and beckons for me to step indoors before him. He follows me in a locks the door behind us, there’s no point in trying to attract customers at this time of day, all we’ll end up with is tramps trying to get out of the cold and take advantage of a toilet which isn’t littered with piss and needles. I’m just thinking maybe he is gay?

As we enter the bar I can see it was left in a complete state of disarray, this usually happens when Felix decides to have one of his personal parties here because he pays us, the staff, to leave him to it. Unfortunately this has the knock on effect of causing us twice as much work when we open up the next day and consequently everyone thinks that he’s an asshole. However today is only a fraction as bad as it has been in the past, as opposed to coming in and having to contend with overflowing ashtrays, the remnants of cocaine fuelled mayhem, upturned chairs and tables and sometimes even comatose men and women strewn around the place, today I’m only facing empty glasses and a filthy bar.
Caleb seems to be in a foul mood after our little exchange outside, he chucks his jacket down onto one of the sofas and stomps through to the back of the bar into the cellar and stock room without saying another word to me, what a child. Anyway I decide to turn my attention to sorting out this dump in time to open up this afternoon. No doubt Felix is going to be AWOL all day and all night seeing as he knows he can delegate pretty much anything to his little lapdog Caleb.
Starting at the back I collect the glasses in which our considerate customers have put all kinds of trash including chewing gum and pistachio shells. It seems a London contagion to treat a bar like it’s your own personal bin and who wouldn’t? Given that Felix, the owner, does the same thing with everyone watching. He spends all this time and money designing the interior of this bar exactly to his measurements, with the golden engraved tables and weird light bulbs he must have had made especially for him and then all he does is trash the place on a regular basis, giving others a licence to do the same.
I find one of his business cards stuffed in a half full glass of wine, he no doubt sent it over with the drink to a woman who knew better, thank God. I end up throwing away a total of twelve glasses, some cracked and others just so soiled there’s no way the glass washer will sort them out and no way I’m washing them by hand either. I wipe down the rest of the bar and mop the floor taking great care to make sure that the lights in the floor are spotless with no water marks. Then I light the candles which are dotted sporadically all over the bar, it takes a good fifteen minutes for me to find them all, during which time I hear an enormous crash in the store room where Caleb must be because it’s followed by a thundering shout of pain, possibly sprinkled with a little dash of frustration. Serves him right for being such a pleb earlier.
As I walk into the stock room I can already see the damage, Caleb wasn’t looking and the dope has pulled out so many bottles from boxes on the bottom of the pile that they’ve collapsed, which in turn has caused the boxes on top to spill forward and empty their contents all over him. “So that looks painful,” I offer as comment, “maybe you need a little recap on the theory of gravity.” He turns to me with a falsely saccharine smile baring his slightly yellowed teeth. “Still, it’s a miracle you managed to not smash any of them, you goon.”
“Holly,” he pauses and draws in a long breath, “I can’t be bothered to open today, this is ridiculous, I’ve got to cart all this out front, put it all away, I’ve had about four hours sleep, Felix isn’t even here and now I’ve possibly got brain damage after this bottle avalanche.” He says all this like a little four year old complains to his Mum about eating vegetables. This is why I need an older man and not this, this boy.
“As deeply as my sympathy flows for you, Cal we have to open up eventually and you know it. He’ll hear if we’re closed all day and night.” Even though I could do with the day off, I need to keep this job for a little while longer and I can’t have Caleb messing that up for me.
“Oh come on,” he begs, “let’s just cart this shit to the bar, crack open a couple of bottles of the good stuff, not like he’ll even notice, and just relax for a bit. Then we can decide if we want to open up later.”
“Cal, that’s such a bad idea and you know it, we’ll both end up getting fired and I don’t know about you, but I need the money.”
Caleb looks like I’ve just shot his puppy in front of him. “We’re not going to get fired! Worst case scenario; he does notice that a couple of bottles are missing and maybe someone sees us pissed, not the end of the world. I’ll just cover it and say it was all me anyway. You know he’ll let me get away with it, just look at all the shit I’ve got on him,” he says giving me a wink and one of Felix’s trademark grins. Why am I such a sucker for a man’s wishes? I can already feel myself giving way to this little plan, fantasising about clinking glasses at the bar in a big “fuck you” to our employer and I can’t help but smile back at Caleb, Goddamit! He laughs a little and walks over to put his arm uncomfortably around my neck, “I knew you’d cave, right now help me carry these down and we can get our drink on!”

Less than half an hour later all of the bottles which earlier had been denting Caleb’s head, were neatly lined up in their respective shelves. Caleb had conveniently brought out two extra bottles of a Spanish red, not one of the most expensive we sell but by no means a low budget bottle of wine, to be honest it’s all the same to me. I’ve never understood why people drink the really expensive stuff, I think it’s all just for show. Caleb takes down two glasses from the back of the shelf because the ones at the front are still cooling down from being put through the washer. He places one in front of me sat on the customer side of the bar and keeps one for himself, still standing on the side where he belongs, facing me, still with that stupid smile plastered across his face like a scary circus clown. He uncorks one bottle and takes a big sniff from the top of the bottle. “Free wine smells fantastic!” he hisses after he’s taken a nose full.
“Pretty sure you’re meant to pour it in the glass and let it air before you do that you retard”
“Well I’m pretty sure you need to get one of these down you and cheer the fuck up sharpish, you’re making me want to die at the moment.” I don’t really have anything to add to that so just tilt my glass towards him so that he can fill it up, which he does almost all the way to the top. I take a large gulp, partly on Caleb’s orders but also because after cleaning up the mess this morning and hearing about Felix’s late night activities, I feel like I deserve it. Before I know it two thirds of the glass has gone and I’ve only just come up for air when Caleb looks up from pouring out his glass, “Woah there! Easy Tiger, it’s not like we’re going to run out, we’ve got all day.”
“A second ago you told me to get one down me! These mixed signals can really confuse a girl, Cal”
“And if I told you to jump off a cliff would you?” I don’t feel like dignifying this age old riposte with a comment because I’ve heard the same thing two million times from my Mum, drunk. So I just tut him, what I’m really thinking though is: Well it depends who’s asking. It’s what I always thought when she asked and it’s what I still think now, because history has taught me that my mother has rarely been right about anything in her life. My silence seems to be a signal for him to shut up and refill my glass which I drink normally now because I feel a bit sick from the huge gulps I took before. To stop the conversation dying Caleb decides to commence a session of twenty-one questions, “So where is it you live then?” He asks propped up on his elbows on the bar.
“I live with my Mum in an apartment in Islington, you?”
“Very swish! I’m just holed up in a house with some friends in Camberwell at the moment, it’s more fun and cheaper than having my own place.”
“Sounds good, let me know if you ever need a room filled.” I take another long mouthful of the wine thinking about going back home tonight.
“It doesn’t sound like you’ve got a bad deal, flat in Islington, bought and paid for by your Mum, could be worse.”
Not much I think. “Yeah I think I just need to get out of there soon, my Mum only inherited the flat from her aunt and uncle it’s not like she paid for it herself.” Maybe I snapped this, it’s difficult to talk about her and sound normal, Caleb seems a bit taken aback.
“Oh,” Caleb seems shocked as though up until now he’s thought I was born with a silver spoon in my mouth. “So what does your Mum do?”
I can’t help but laugh, “Nothing,” there’s nothing else to say, I’m not making this boy my agony aunt. I drink more wine. The mood seems to have turned sombre and I can see the wheels in Caleb’s head turning as he struggles to reverse the swing of this conversation. I decide to help him a little, “It’s a bit quiet in here I’m just going to turn some music on.”
“Good idea,” he replies. I stand up, take my glass and walk out to the back room and play around with the computer to bring it out of hibernation mode. The encyclopaedic collection of music on this computer baffles me, most of the artists must have been before my time I’m guessing and some must just be extremely niche. I decide to put on something I know Caleb will like, maybe out of sympathy because I feel like I’m ruining his day a little by being moody. I put on a song and can already hear it rhythmically rolling out of the speakers which are so well hidden in the bar that I’ve never found them. This has the effect of making you feel that you are immersed in sound, so that as opposed to it coming from somewhere it surrounds you in a captivating fog of sound which can keep you trapped in here for hours and hours.
When I get back to the bar I can see that Caleb has speedily emptied his first glass and filled it back up before I returned, cheeky boy thought I wouldn’t notice. He nods at me and raises his glass, “Good choice of song, babe!” I just nod and smile glad that what we’d been talking about before has been dropped. I refill my own glass and glance at my watch, barely twenty minutes have gone by and we’ve pretty much polished off an entire bottle between us, we need to slow down or else things are going to get out of hand. Caleb comes around from behind the bar and sits on the stool next to me, which I thought would make me feel uncomfortable. Maybe it’s the wine or the cold outside but it feels nice to have him close to me.
“So, Cal you don’t seem too worried about the stock take then. Aren’t you worried Felix is going to be pissed off?”
“To be honest I don’t think he even looks at it, every month we’re way over two grand out just on spirits, during the week I reckon we take in anywhere between forty on a quiet week and sixty if it’s good but that probably doesn’t even allow us to break even, I mean given overheads and the amount of shit going out for free. So I’m pretty sure that he has some other kind of scam going here that none of us know about.”
After taking another long drink from my glass I ask, “What type of thing do you think he’s doing then?”
Cal shifts on his seat not knowing whether to dodge my question, answer it, or just lie. “Well I’m not exactly sure, I don’t think it’s drugs because he’s always sending me out for them, so why would he do that if he had his own personal supply, you know? So unless he’s running some underground criminal empire that we haven’t noticed, I don’t know. But I do know there’s three big fucking safes in his office, all set into the concrete wall, now that’s not normal.” I just sit there and nod my head, Cal hasn’t really told me anything I didn’t expect already. I knew we weren’t making money the normal way but I’d like to know how we are, out of both simple curiosity and a desire for leverage.
“So where do you see this all going then?”
“Well I figure we’ll finish the wine, then I’m going to pick you up, carry you over to one of the tables and have my wicked way with you right there.”
I almost spit out the wine in my mouth, “No you idiot I meant working here!”
Caleb looks embarrassed, he still hasn’t picked up that icy confidence which Felix seems to walk around flaunting. “Oh erm...er well, I don’t know. I’ll see how this year goes and then maybe re-evaluate, I mean it’s getting a bit boring now being his errand boy. It used to be fun but he’s got so unpredictable now I can’t keep up.”
“Well poor you.” I couldn’t care less about his little sob story about being unappreciated. “Now what were you saying about having your wicked way with me?” That grin instantly comes back to his face and he laughs, I laugh too and look at him, am I feeling the wine or could this actually be fun? I finish my glass and empty the bottle into it, Caleb does the same and turns to open the new bottle. “I’m just going to run to the bathroom a sec.”
“Ok then,” he says and as I get up to walk around the corner to the ladies he grabs my arm and pulls me towards him still smiling, he leans in and so do I. He smells like an old apartment which has been smoked in for years, like home really. I can taste the wine and the cigarettes on him, now I know what all those idiots who’ve slept with Felix have felt like, so many of them standing right where I am now doing exactly what I am now. I break away from him and can’t help but smile, which is annoying, I don’t want to give him the satisfaction. I turn and walk away, looking forward now much more to my afternoon than I had been earlier, feeling a warm sensation spread over my body as the second glass of wine starts to have an effect.
I have to turn the lights on in the toilets as we haven’t let anyone in yet, it always freaks me out being able to see into the bar from here, I’m always really paranoid that people can see me too. Only Felix would come up with the idea of using one way glass to wall off a toilet, the sick minded prick. I slide down my tight denim skirt, black tights and French knickers all in one, there are little red spots all over the white lace. There’s only one word that springs to mind at a moment like this and that’s fuck, but hey at least I’m not pregnant.