Being Shirley by Michelle Vernal

I’d been.”
    “What did he say?”
    “He raised an eyebrow and gave me that horrid slimy grin of his and asked if I’d been shopping. Honestly, Carl, he was bad enough before but now he’s going to think I am some sort of nympho or deviant.”
    “Well, you are the only girl I know planning on dressing up as a bunny for her partner.”
    “Not helping!”
    Carl grinned. “My advice?”
    “Please.”
    “Play on it. Have a bit of fun with him, that’s what I would do.”
    “You’re terrible, Carl.” Annie mimicked Muriel’s Wedding, one of their top-ten movies of all time as they stood, arms linked, at the lights as they waited to cross the road. As the green man appeared, she filed away his advice nonetheless.
    “So have you put a deposit down on the dress?” Carl hedged as they crossed the road and the pub came into sight.
    “No,” she replied curtly. As she pushed open the door of the heaving Irish bar a few minutes later, she was glad of the loud music that assailed her ears. It was a welcome distraction; she didn’t want to think about the fact the shine had dimmed a little where the dress was concerned because Carl had said things that really couldn’t be unsaid.
     
    ***
     
    “I want this letter on my desk in ten minutes. Annie, ANNIE!”
    Annie blinked and came back to earth. Attila stood over her and looked as if she suffered from a terrible bout of piles. Perhaps she was , Annie thought randomly; shingles could be bought on by stress—perhaps piles could be too . “Uh, I’m sorry, Adelia. I didn’t catch that?”
    There was a dramatic eye roll before the older woman repeated her request and banged a stack of papers she obviously wanted editing down on her desk. Ready to flounce off, she hovered on one heel with her eyes snake-like slits. “You know, your head is all over the place at the moment and you’ve been making some pretty silly mistakes of late.”
    For a moment, Annie thought she was going to be asked what the matter was, followed by a nice dose of afternoon tea and sympathy but she should have known better.
    “But, and I want to make myself very clear on this, whatever it is that is going on in your private life is nothing whatsoever to do with your working life. As a professional, I expect you to leave your problems at the door between the hours of nine a.m. and five thirty p.m. to focus on the job at hand! Do I make myself clear?”
    Attila never made herself anything but clear. Was this some sort of formal warning, though? Annie nodded meekly. Either way, her boss’s underlying message was very clear: shape up or ship out. She wouldn’t cry, she determined as she blinked rapidly and flicked the birdy at her retreating back before she opened the letters folder on the computer. Trying to focus her attention on finding the one she needed to edit, she refused to glance over at gormless Sue, who she just knew gawped at the drama of it all. In her current state, if she were to make eye contact with Toad of Toad Hall sitting across from her, she would likely swing for her and then she’d be in for far worse than a verbal warning.
    What stung the most, though, was that she knew Attila was right. She was all over the place. What Carl had said about her and Tony being unsuited played over in her mind like a broken record despite her attempts to put his words aside. Evenings like the one she’d spent at home with Tony last night didn’t help matters either. It had left her with that unsettled feeling in the pit of her stomach again and not just because of the Indian takeaway they’d shared.
    She’d come home after her glass of wine with Carl at O’Shea’s Bar, pumped with grand plans for the bunny outfit. The wine had smoothed away the edges of inhibition but then Tony had texted her to say he’d had an emergency call out and would be late. They’d agreed to get takeaway; he’d pick up Indian on his way home he told her. That’s when she had stashed the bunny outfit in her