Office Christmas Party (IP)

“My handbag, where’s my handbag? I put it right here. It’s black. Leather.”

Steve peered into the pile of black leather handbags crammed under the pub table. “Is it this one?

“No.”

“This one?”

“No.”

“This?”

“God, no.”

“What about this one?”

“No, no, no,” Moira shook her head slowly.

“That’s all the black bags here, Moira.”

“Wait a minute.” She narrowed her eyes carefully at the pile. “It’s that one.”

“The red one?”

“Yeah.”

Moira slumped onto a chair and rummaged through her bag, depositing the contents on the table. “My phone, where’s my phone? Oh god, this is bad, where’s my phone?”

“It’s okay, it must be here somewhere. Do you want me to ring it?”

“Yes. That’s a brilliant. A brilliant idea. You’re a clever boy, Steve. A clever boy. Ring it, yes.”

“Okay. What’s your number?” Steve held his phone expectantly.

“Hah, of course, you don’t have my number. Why would you have the boss’s number?” Moira chuckled to herself and muttered, “Silly Moira.”

“So, what is it?”

“What’s what?”

“The number.”

“Oh, yes. It’s...” Her face screwed up in concentration. “Oh. One.”

“I don’t think it’s oh-one, Moira.”

“No. No. It’s oh. Seven-seven. Seven. Seven. Four. Eight-five-thr- no, four. Four-one-one-nine-two. Two-two- six. Six. Oh.”

“I’m not sure that’s going to work.”

“Why not?”

“Is it in your coat pocket?”

“No, no, I don’t keep my phone in my coat. That’s what men do, they do. I am a woman. I keep my phone in my handbag. Just here. Just here,” she patted the handbag fondly.

“Okay, well, it’s not there, is it, so shall we look in your coat?”

“Be,” Moira belched alcohol fumes into his face. “Oh, excuse me. Be my. Be my guest.”

“Okay, here it is. It was in your coat.”

“Uh? Really? But I’m a woman.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Oh, you’ve noticed, have you?” Moira adjusted her dress coyly and slid slowly to the floor. She lay blinking up at him from the floor. “Well, that was embarrassing.”

“It’s a very slippy seat that one. No one saw, anyway, they’re all outside smoking. Here, take my hand.” Steve pulled Moira back to her feet. She staggered a moment and grabbed at his arm to steady herself. She held on and stroked his arm, smiling.

“Good job you’re so strong, eh?”

“Um, yeah.”

Moira stepped back and, with an effort, focused on his face. She tossed her hair. “How old? How old would you say I am, Steve? Eh?”

“Let’s get your things together, Moira.”

“No. Not before you say. Look at me.” She moved her hand up and down her body.”How old, hmm?”

“Um, I don’t know.” Steve gave her a quick appraisal. “Early to mid-thirties?”

“Aw,” she smiled and stroked his cheek. “Bless you. You’re a sweet boy. I’m fifty. Fifty. Fifty-four.”

“Right, okay.”

“I do alright though, don’t I? Scrub up not too bad? Not too shabby, huh?”

“Um, yeah, you look... good?”

“I do. I do look good. I totally rock this dress. I still got good pins. Haven’t I?”

“Good what?”

“Pins, Stevie, pins. Legs. Good legs. I got... great legs.”

“Come on, Moira, let’s go and get you a cab.”

Moira nodded. “Yeah, it’s a good idea. You’re a good ideas man. Boy. Good ideas boy. Aren’t you?”

“I have my moments. Come on, you got all your stuff?” Steve piled things back into her handbag, checked she had her phone and helped her on with her coat.

Together, they stumbled through the door and into the street past the grins and raised eyebrows of their colleagues. Steve looked along the road. “Ok, there must be loads of cabs around. There’s one.”

“Taxi,” Moira screamed, tottering into the road with her arm aloft. The cab’s brakes squealed and Steve grabbed Moira’s coat and dragged her back to the pavement, holding her up by her arms.

She gazed up at him. “You. You savioured me. You saved me. You’re my saviour.” She straightened up and pressed her lips against Steve’s. He felt her tongue slip into his mouth took a step back.

Gently but firmly he pushed her away. “Okay, now, Moira. Let’s get in the cab.”

“Your place or mine?”

“You at your place, me at my place. Can you tell this man your address?” He glanced at the smirking driver.

“Of course I can. What do you think, I don’t know my own address?”

“Okay, good. Well, you tell him, and he’ll take you home and then you get to bed.”

“Hmm, yeah, into my big comfy bed. It’s very big. And very comfy. Plenty of room for two.”

“Night Moira, see you Monday.”

“Okay. Okay. Bye bye. See you Monday, yes. Don’t forget we’ve got your thing. You know? Your app. Your appraisal first thing, Stevie Steve. First thing.”

“I won’t forget, Moira, night. “ Steve pushed the door shut and watched the cab drive away. He pulled his phone out, stopped the recording and smiled to himself. He had a feeling the appraisal was going to go much better than he had expected.