Short Story
By Jackie Brewster
Lady Ice-Cream Kelly and her friend Marjorie had been surprised to see Vienetta Bagshott-Clamp, in a canary yellow sundress and sling back heels, climb out of her convertible at their Pick-Your-Own Strawberry field. “Look what the cat’s dragged in,” Marjorie groaned. “It’s Lady Ice-Cream.” “I’m on my way to a garden party, all the best people will be there,” she’d smirked. “I promised to bring strawberries to go with the champers.” “Just grab one of these and help yourself,” Marjorie had said, handing her a cardboard basket that she received in her manicured hands as though she was being offered a roll of toilet paper. “I can’t pick fruit in this outfit,” she said, “you’ll have to do it for me.” “It’s pick your own,” Marjorie had muttered, but her words fell on deaf ears; different rules applied when it came to Vienetta. Poor Kelly got the short straw. Since then she’d been following Vienetta around the field, while her customer fussed over every piece of fruit Kelly put in the basket. “My friends will be astonished when I tell them I’ve picked them myself,” Vienetta said, batting away a curious butterfly. “So it’s got to look amazing.” “The basket’s full,” Kelly said wearily. “Let’s get it weighed.” Kelly marched back to the shed where Marjorie was helping customers. Vienetta followed her, gingerly picking her way through the rows of plants. “Got everything you need?” Marjorie asked, a tight smile on her face as she put the basket on the scales. “There’s a bug on that top one,” Vienetta tutted, inspecting the fruit. “I’m not paying for that, take
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it out.” “It’s just a little greenfly,” Kelly said. “It’ll come off when you wash them.” “What do you mean, wash them?” she snapped. “You never mentioned this.” “You don’t have to if you don’t want to, do you Marjorie?” Kelly said nervously, picking the offending strawberry out of the basket and putting it to one side. The two women shook their heads vigorously. If they weren’t careful Vienetta would have them washing the fruit and hulling it too. As Vienetta handed over the cash she winced. “I have a stone in my shoe,” she scowled. “From your filthy field.” “If we’d known you were coming we’d have hoovered,” Marjorie smiled. “Park yourself here and get the stone out.” She pushed a wooden crate towards Vienetta. “Wait!” Kelly cried as Vienetta sat down heavily and peeled off her shoe. After shaking her foot, she replaced the shoe and wobbled to her feet. “Luckily for you I’m off to a garden party.” Marjorie waved as she walked away. She stared at Vienetta’s behind, where a circle of red bloomed on her left cheek. “What’s that on her bum?” Marjorie whispered. “It’s that strawberry with the greenfly,” Kelly groaned. “She sat on it.” “That poor greenfly,” Marjorie said sadly. “Should we tell her?” “Just smile and wave,” Kelly said. “Smile and wave.”
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