Daily Prompt: Lollipop
If you had told me when I was ten that working in a room full of lollipops, cakes and every sweet you could imagine would not be… fun. I would have thought you mad; my ten year old self would have imagined all my Christmas’s had come at once. Never mind chestnuts roasting on an open fire – I would have imagined myself making marshmallow snow angels, wearing lollipop hair ties.
Reality is pretty jarring when you’re no longer ten. Not only were we not allowed to eat anything – the sickly stench of sugar, in a small white box of a room, under the heat of more lights than could possibly be necessary, was foul by the end of the day.
Alice thought it hilarious, when I recounted my day from hell over drinks at Charli Browns. I couldn’t see the funny side myself and shot her a look that could kill as she plucked candy floss from my hair – laughing at my woeful, woe is me expression.
I thought a PA position for the designer at House of Jonah would be – elegant. It was a great gig for a girl from Framlingham. Mum cried as I put my bags in the boot of my mini cooper, Belle. She hugged me six times between the kitchen and the car. Poppa was so proud; his old London connections had been the foot in the door I needed to spread my wings. I thought I would fly like an eagle! Turns out I was just a carrier pigeon.
Alice stopped laughing at my misery and then added to it, not that she meant to, “did you know Wilton’s in town?” she asked hesitantly
‘No!’ I said without looking up from my ginger beer shandy. I was shocked by her sudden announcement, we hadn’t spoken about Wilton in a while. It seemed safer not to look at her.
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