The Bra

“Sian? Sian? Would you mind helping me please? I need you”.

Plunging my hands deep into a sink full of hot water, I curse, allowing my 'pretend I didn't hear' psyche set in. I continue scrubbing pots and pans. I know what she wants: me to go in the storeroom to rotate and tidy stock, which is practically up to the ceiling! She wants to help me, but I'd already told her this morning that I had a plan of action in my head, with an allocated hour when I knew that we wouldn't be busy on the servery, and that I'd be quite happy to do it on my own. If she helped, then my rigid plan would be out of the window and I'd get frustrated and grumpy. She knew that's the way I was, but she's so used to my attitude now, she just ignores me and carries on helping. And, as always, we get the job done quicker, she finds a better way through my plan and then I calm down and relax. My boss knows me like the back of her hand! And she pushes me to be the best I can be.

Rolling my eyes, I take three deep breaths and wipe my hands on a towel. They're red raw.

I'm never going to catch up with this washing-up -my boss has been more demanding than usual today: “Can you peel some potatoes? Have you made the coleslaw yet? Do you think we need to fill the drinks-fridge? Could you check if this email is worded right? Can you light the fryer?”

All morning one after the other, not forgetting I have to serve hungry students and lecturers for breakfast in between. I knew the tasks I had to do. I plan my day every morning. Checking the menu to see what basic things I can prepare to give my boss a push. I have to fill stock for the day ahead too. I'm a big planner. Ritual and routine are my life. So being interrupted constantly makes me heat up inside and I just want to scream out LEAVE ME ALONE! I KNOW WHAT NEEDS DOING!

But I won't scream and shout and never will. It's not worth it. It's a waste of breath in this precious life.

Especially when I realise with guilt-induced remembrance that today is her big day.

There's only two of us working in the kitchen – my boss (Valerie) and me. Just the two of us. And we are close friends, despite all my OCD whinginess! With ten years difference, she's like a big sister to me.

And she's a boss you don't see often in a workplace. Valerie is very good at observing your strengths and using them to their full capacity. But she also has a canny way of seeing the little weaknesses that you're scared of admiting too. She's done wonders with building my confidence over the years. We're good together. We joke about calling ourselves 'Cagney and Lacey'! But most of our customers look at us as if we're stark raving mad! They're too young to remember Cagney and Lacey!

And gosh, we're so different in terms of organisation. She's chaos with a big 'C' compared to me!

Perhaps I shouldn't have said that last bit.

“Sian?” she calls again, peeking her head around the staffroom door. I thought she was in the storeroom. Then I remember...the appointment... she's getting ready to leave work early. She sounds stressed. I check to make sure there's no customers waiting and go over to her.

“Im sorry to have to ask you this”, she says, “I can't do this on my own”.

I look at what she's fumbling with. A caramel-coloured padded-bra with tiny hooks at the front.

“No problem, I can help”, I say, trying to cast away tears and fears as I undo the muddled hooks, that she's struggled with. I can feel her trembling a little. Maybe it's the cold staffroom or what she has on her mind? More than likely, both. Knowing Valerie, she's more worried about how I will cope seeing her bare-chested.

“Are you sure you're okay to help me? You don't have to...I'll understand”, she says.

I take a deep breath. I have to do what I have to do. At the end of the day she's my friend, my sister, my boss... all rolled into one. We've always helped each other through tough times – thick and thin. Now is no different. We're a team.

“Don't be silly! Of course I'll help you!” I giggle, trying to make light of the situation. Its the way I deal with reality and serious situations. I do it for both myself and others...when times get dark.

Taking a silent gulp of breath, I undo the bra so I can re-do it properly for her. As I do so, I try to blank the vision of her bare chest that's laced with puffy pink scars on both sides. It's the first time I've seen them.

“Im so sorry,” she says, “I shouldn't have asked you – I'll be okay to carry on, on my own”.

“Never say sorry and please don't worry. I'm here and happy to help,” I say, “You've always taught me to step out of my comfort zone, encouraging me not to be afraid of anything.”

But deep down, my heart is being haunted. Seeing the scars, the bareness, knowing the psychological earthquake she's gone through. I put myself in her shoes. How would I feel losing something that had been a part of me all my life? How would my husband and I cope...emotionally, physically? Would he stay or would he go?

My eyes start to glaze. I catch her looking at me. I've got to pull myself together.

Valerie and her husband are stronger than ever. He stayed.

And I'm staying too. No matter the mixed emotions I'm feeling right now: the horror of what happened, feeling her pain...the shock that this can happen in real-life...

As I get half-way down and start fumbling, she tries to help. But together we are fingers and thumbs all over the place! We start laughing as we realise the hilirarity of the whole scene, making jokes about this being a brilliant scene for a comedy show!

With the bra half done up, we lean against the wall, we are in hysterics, crossing our legs and wiping our eyes st the same time.

I glance up trying to catch my breath and catch sight of the wall-clock.

“Come on, let's finish getting you hooked up or you'll be late!” . We giggle at what I've just said whilst carrying on with the next half of the bra hooks. We work together to get the hooks secure.

We look at the reflection of Valerie's bra in the mirror.

“There we go!” I say, “now thats a lovely pair of boobies!”

She looks back at me in the mirror, smiling.

“Yes, they are aren't they!”

As I went to the counter to serve, Valerie walked out, with a sprint, smiling towards her loving, waiting husband... ready to find out if she had the all-clear.