Leggings end of the poetry bit on saturday

Kitty left work early to go back to college.  Her group were apparently further along the course than mine was.  They were going into screen printing on satin.  Sounded quite oriental.

"How do think she is these days?" asked Phyllis coming out of the back room with two full cups of coffee.  "I've about finished my new design board, and should be able to cut the dresses etc tomorrow.  Are you anywhere near ready?"
"She seems okay to me, normal," I said half hoping she would forget the rest.  I wasn't anyway ready.
"Not hearing things?" Phyllis enquired sharply.  "Only there's a full time opening coming up with a larger store."
"Oh, near too?"  I said squeakily, "She'd love it.  She said a bit about hearing subliminal messages at the end of some programs, the news and also in ads.  Do they allow it now?  One of the children said they heard them too and it was really hard not to eat chocolate after hearing how yummy it was, and how much they wanted it."

"Well that's not so bad," said Phyllis, "Can't recommend her if she's still flaky.  She's so talented too.  I want her to have a real chance."
"Yeah."  I said dryly. I was like so glad it wasn't me.  "She's overheard someone local say the torture would be over by Saturday, as the prize book and any 'right' to her poetry prize might well be over by then.  So if it's that, then that might be over."
"Is it someone local who did it to her?"
"Yes, either a consortium, of evil sods, and their junior skitzo daughters - one leader seems be in the  medical profession, and his daughter shrieks full blast. Apparently she studied poetry, and she's better than anyone, and she was going to publish under the same name.  She must have been on Kitty's computer though."
"Mentally ill?"
"You know I'm with Liang about it all, even though he's been put asided over the issues - of blaming parents.  The poetry prize is over as the deadline for the book publication which was part of the prize is then.  She studied poetry and didn't learn how to write it."

"Does she steal it too?"

"Yes she might. It's rumoured about.  Her family believe in snipping off thieves hands etc, and thats a threat Ihat I've heard them throw about."

"And you're sure it's that pair?"

"Either that or they're a cover for something more sinister.  He must have studied how to make his daughter behave like that really hard."

"Is it the Romanies?"
"Not sure this unpleasant lot are more far east."
"Well if that part is over, then she ought to be able to move on."
"Maybe.  There is such a lot to be sorted out though."
"Your design sketches."
"Phyllis, I just didn't have time to finish them, I'll show you what I got done.  I even have some material snatches in my bag."
"Okay show!" 

I pulled my leaden bag from under the counter, and displayed my half completed design board, complete with the material snatches.  I'd been taken by the idea that with the new feminism sweeping woman's clothes, I could soften the look even more
by using romantic colours and sensual textures. 

Phyllis started to giggle.  "Okay," she said, "Make sure you finish the lot tonight, and then you can do some cutting out tomorrow too.  I want the new designs on show next week."
I finished my coffee.  "Slave driver!"
"You're lucky to have a job!" she called on her way into the depths of the back room.