Daisy Chain

Emily and Jasmine are best friends until one fateful day everything changes. Through events beyond their control, Emily and Jasmine become worst enemies. Emily starts to bully Jasmine and being her former best friend, she knows exactly how to hurt her.

Jasmine feels alone. Her best friend has turned against her. She hates her mum for what she's done. She doesn't like her dad's girlfriend or her spoiled little half brother. The head mistress is Emily's aunt. With no-one to turn to, Jasmine turns on herself and with a heart full of hatred she soon too becomes a bully...

When will the chain break so the bullying can stop!

<This is a work in progress, so I'll post chapters as I go along>

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3. Work Hard, Play Over

 

Chapter 3 (Louise)

 

I walked up the hotels steps to start work.  I was still humming the tune I’d been listening to on the radio.  It was upbeat and happy, infection like the summer sunshine.  I’d have to find out who it was by.  My daughter Jasmine would know.  She was good with music.

 

I pushed open the door and smiled at Cristina.  She was Emily’s mum and as our daughters are best friends, she had helped me get the job here after my husband left me.  The hours fit in well around Jasmine's school times and during the holidays the girls would hand out together at the hotel, in the gardens or on the beach, whilst we both worked.

 

“Hi ya.”  I chimed.  Cristina frowned and her jaw twitched.

 

The large double doors slammed shut behind me.  The hollow sound echoed down the corridor and with the sound came a feeling of dread.  I made my way to the cleaning closet.  I had to act normal.  There was no way she could know about Dan and I.  It had just happened the once; a stupid accident.  I had told him I didn’t think it right for us to continue being friends.   I hadn’t even spoken to him since.  It had be something else.

 

I got my trolley of cleaning equipment from the cupboard and began making my way up in the lift to the third floor.  It wasn’t a big hotel but it still would take me all morning to get done.  I opened the door to the first room.  I began stripping the bed ready to put clean sheets on it.

 

I was tucking the corners in when I had that uneasy feeling of being watched.  I looked up and there was Cristina at the door.  She had the same inky black hair as her daughters, except she’d paid to have a perm and hers only reached her shoulders where as Emily's ran down to her waist.

 

I smiled and again she responded with a thrown.  “Wipe that smug look off your face!”

 

Like a slap to the face I became stone cold sober. 

 

She started walking towards me, sauntering over, in her posh secretary to the manager style suit.  I begin to feel uneasy.  “Is everything alright?”  I ask.

 

“Peachy!”  Cristina said sarcastically, her frown knitting her brow together.  She then forced a smile.  “I’m just inspecting the quality of your work.  Don’t mind me.  Carry on.”

 

I knew that no matter what I did it would be wrong.  She criticized the way the sheet was folded, finding a crease where there shouldn’t, advising of a fold required where I should.  She checked every surface closely for dirt.  She stood over me whilst I scrubbed the toilet, making me do it over and over again.  Her finger running along the inside of the I had wiped claiming their were soap marks that has been missed.  Finally, she allowed me to leave the room.

 

She looked at her watch.  “Well, I better get back to the office.  It looks like I need to record your first verbal warning.  Your work is slow and careless.  You have a week to improve your standards or we’ll move onto a written warning.”

 

“I’m sorry.”   I apologized, knowing what this was really about.

 

She brought her face up close into mine.  “Not as sorry as I am.”  She clenched her teeth together, causing her jaw to twitch again.  She began to walk towards the stair case.  “Not as sorry as you will be.”

 

***

 

I was nervous with stress by the end of the day.  I had tried my hardest, gone over every job twice to ensure it was perfection.  I knew she’d look for faults.  Part of me knew that even if I didn’t make a mistake, she’d find one.  She was on a witch hunt and I couldn't blame her.

 

I’d slept with her husband when she was the one who’d been there for me, helping take care of Jasmine when my own husband left me seven years ago.  I hadn’t meant to.  I wanted to explain.  It had just happened.  I admit, I envied the way they were so perfect.  I admit, I wanted it for myself.  It was that drive that had started to make me fall for him and see him the way she did.  I never meant to cross that line from fantasy to reality though.  Never! 

 

Still, it had happened and I hated myself for it.  Now I was alone again. 

 

***

 

I couldn’t believe Dan had told her.  I kept wishing it was something else.  That afternoon I paced around trying to make sense of it all.  Eventually, I picked up the phone to call him.

 

 “Why are you calling me?” He said answering his mobile.

 

“Dan, have you told her?”

 

“Yeah,  I love my wife and I need you to back off and let us try and work things out.”

 

“I….”  I didn’t know what to say.  I don’t know what I’d expected him to say but it wasn’t that.  “I’m not trying to make things worse.”

 

“Just you calling me will make things worse.”

 

“I’m sorry.  Just, I wish you had warned me.”

 

“Warning you wouldn’t have made a blind bit of difference.  Besides, you told me that we couldn’t be friends any more.  That’s not exactly an invitation to call you.”

 

“I’m sorry…”  I apologized again.  He was making me feel like this was all my fault.  The guilt was unbearable and I felt embarrassed for pretending like nothing had happened in the hope that it would go away without anyone getting hurt.  

 

“Good bye Lou-Lou.”  He then cut the call before I could say good bye myself.  I went to the dresser in the dining room and opened the bottom right-hand cupboard.  I pulled out a bottle of wine and grabbed a glass from the kitchen. 

 

In the garden, I poured myself a glass and washed away the harshness of the day with the bitter sweet of a bottle of red.  I had been here before, seven years ago.  Last time, Cristina brought me back from my dark place but now I had no-one.  This time, I had no-one to blame but myself.  

 

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