Not quite the Virgin Mary
I suppose my life began when I was 18. I went to work in a large department store in the city I grew up in. My time there made me the woman I am, not what I was destined for. I am an only child of overly religious parents, born when my mum was 41, a freak accident! My parents were kind and supportive but probably clueless. I wasn't gifted or bothered by school and it passed by with me an anonymous presence. Our social life was the church and I had no other immediate family. I was not encouraged to have boyfriends, so I didn't. God would provide. He didn't though. Afterwards I was unemployed for a while, it was the 1980s, everyone was. The spring after, when I was 17, I got a job in the store, near the railway station that had been there many years...
I was a junior dogsbody. I was initially a shop assistant in kitchenware, in the basement. I wore the standard staff uniform of ivory nylon sleeveless blouse buttoned at the back, with a knee length skirt, a short jacket and flat ballet shoes. The skirt and jacket were blue and I always wore opaque tights, whatever the weather. I hid away any sense of my figure, not knowing anything about dressing nicely. I never wore any make up. My mum bought my clothes from mail order catalogues on instalment payments, even my underwear & shoes. I didn't care about how I looked. I considered myself plain, at best and so didn't mix much with colleagues beyond the lunch break. I think all my colleagues, thought I was a freak. Hence my name 'Virgin Mary'. I came and went from my parents' house by bus, alone. I was still anonymous.
Just before my 19
th
birthday, which no one except the personnel lady knew about, I was called into the office and one of the managers said to me, "You must have friends in high places Mary. You are being transferred to cosmetics on the ground floor. You get a 10% pay rise and shall be trained by Mrs Coughlan, the manageress, in the workings of the department and the products. You start this morning."
I couldn't speak, what was I going to be doing there, with all the glamour and expensive makeup. Mrs Coughlan was a well-known figure in the store, tall, blonde & tarty, some said. Others more kind said she was always well turned out and a bit forceful. I was taken upstairs and introduced to Monica, as she asked me to call her. She towered over me (I'm 5'5") partly because she wore high heels all the time. She was 5'8" in her stockings. Heels on top, never less than 4" high. Her uniform fitted more tightly than mine emphasising her figure. She wore lots of make-up and perfume, crinkling as she walked in her short tight skirt. Gold bracelets rattled on her wrist. Her long hair swished up in some kind of knot. I wouldn't have wanted to say how old she was.
Monica spoke in a different accent to us local girls, much more like someone from the TV. The first thing she said to me after the manager left was: "Customers expect us to wear the makeup we sell so that we understand how it works for them. Come, sit down I'll show you". She did. I emerged after about a half hour fully made up, for the first time. I looked great, very different and grown up. Other members of staff said so too. She made me up every day for about two weeks, before the store opened. I was good at the work and being so much younger than many of the ladies in Cosmetics I helped to sell to younger girls, like me. Monica knew I didn't have a lot of money so kept all the samples we received and passed them my way. She was a terrible flirt and got lots of freebies from the sales reps. There was always a lot of laughter and innuendo. She also knew I cleaned it all off, except the nail polish before I went home, I didn't want mum to know I wore make up as it was a sin.
One day after about a month, I was starting to apply my own makeup in the store, though still helped by Monica to get the best finish, she asked me to come with her on a break. We went to one of the staff rooms at the rear of the store, off the floor of the store away from customers and sat down in an empty room. Monica stretched her arms and wiggled her ankles, showing her black sheer tights and high heels, with ankle straps. She reached into her bag and took out a pack of cigarettes, telling me to take one. I shook my head. I really couldn't refuse; I might end up back in the basement selling cutlery. "Go on one won't hurt, except my feelings, if you don't. We're all girls together here!" I took one and she lit it for me, encouraging me to suck the smoke into my mouth. I did and coughed. She smiled, inhaled herself deeply, then she beckoned me towards her with her hand and she kissed me, holding my lips to hers forcing the smoke. into my mouth. I gasped in surprise at her move towards me, taking the smoke into my lungs. It made my head rush and my knickers wet. It was so so wrong. I loved it. I exhaled coughing, Monica smiled, "Again?" she asked. I nodded. After a few puffs her cigarette was gone. I could taste her lipstick on my mouth! She stubbed it out the tip having a lovely red glow, from her lipstick. She took mine drew in smoke & kissed me again. I was sold, both on cigarettes and kissing women. At the end of the second cigarette, we both touched up our lipstick and returned to work. My head was spinning. Was it nicotine or something else?
We worked like nothing had happened until our afternoon break when we again went to the break room. Monica produced her pack of cigarettes and like someone in an old film placed two in her mouth, lit them both and passed one to me. "Watch" she said, "Suck the smoke to your mouth, then breathe in, so you inhale." I did and amid the coughing got some smoke to my lungs. I felt sick, but again followed Monica's lead and this time did not cough. It was hot and acrid, burning my lungs but it made my head feel all woozy and it made my knickers wet again. It was fab! At the end of the smoke break she reached over and kissed me again gently on the lips, "Well done You! Welcome to smokers' corner." She dropped an unopened pack of cigarettes and a disposable lighter in my bag as we left. "You'll be needing them!" She advised. "Smoke plenty tonight, so you are ready tomorrow. I'll be asking questions..."
As I walked to the bus, I lit another in a shop doorway away from the wind and began to enjoy the sensation of smoking, holding the cigarette, putting it in my red lips and of course getting a nicotine hit in my brain. My parents both smoke in our house so they wouldn't notice the smell on my clothes too much, I hope. I wasn't hungry at tea time and asked to be excused afterwards. I have a TV & VCR in my room so I wasn't in my parents' way. I turned on the TV & opened the window, lighting a cigarette, my first private one. I revelled in the wrongness of doing so, even though Mum & Dad were downstairs with their Embassy No1. For the first time I looked at the pack. They were Marlboro, was this my brand? The red and white box. After a couple of smokes, I felt dreadful and thew up my tea, but I went downstairs & grabbed a coke from the larder and continuing to smoke. I was buzzed. Later I brushed my teeth & found yellow scum on my tongue, brushing it off. I thought I was Lady Muck! Ahh, the dreams of innocence.
When I woke up in the morning my alarm was ringing and I was freezing, it was October and I left the window wide open. Also, I had a rotten headache and felt sick. My bed was wet, where my fanny had leaked in the night. That was new and different. I got ready for work, put my uniform on and went downstairs. I refused breakfast and just had a cup of tea and some paracetamol to ease the headache. They didn't help. I walked across our estate to the bus stop feeling a little sorry for myself, and remembering what Monica said, I lit a cigarette, and drew smoke into my lungs, no cough! and as my first inhale dropped out of my nose, how proud I was of that!! I began to feel better.
When I got off the bus, I lit another cigarette then walked to the staff entrance at the store, stubbing my cigarette out at the door, meeting Monica who was waiting for me. "How was your evening?" I told her I was sick she smiled and took me inside to fix my makeup. We had a quiet day smoking in our breaks, busy on the floor. I wasn't coughing or feeling sick. I just started to get a headache as break times were getting near. At the end of the day, she took me to one side and said, "I'm proud of you Virgin Mary, for not running away from me. I have a small present for you for not stopping smoking, because you like to please me and to enjoy yourself!" she gave me a long thin parcel, it contained 200 Marlboro reds and an engraved petrol lighter, it was inscribed, 'From Monica to Mary Hugs & Kisses.' I wanted to cry it was sweet and kind. No one bought me presents!
The rest of that week passed in a similar way. I still didn't tell my mum I was smoking. Monica and I sold a lot of products, and as Saturday, my 19
th
birthday, was ending in the store, I was sad I would be home alone tomorrow as Church took all my parents' time. I didn't attend every week. My lighter was getting well used too, as I lit up at every chance I got and I started to be more sociable with my colleagues in Makeup who all seemed to smoke. We were sitting in the office and Monica looked at me and said "It's your birthday today my fresh faced 19-year-old friend. Now, you are a fully-fledged part of the team you need a makeover, so you look sexy at work. Christmas isn't far away. men buy their wives makeup and they buy it from young sexy girls, who flirt. You'll be our star this year! You have all the natural attributes, and my guidance" How did she know?
