Fifi Fuchs? Possibly

"Yes, I see what you mean. I hadn't thought about that."

"Exactly what do you think about Mr Jason, sex?"

He coloured and said she should call him Jason, even at work. "The word is already around that you are different and are already seen by my father as a rising star and are under his patronage."

"Is he aiming to fuck me?"

"Christ Fifi, back off. You can't say that about people in general conversation."

"But I just did?"

Jason groaned and covered his eyes with a hand.

"Exactly what is your position at the store Jason?"

"Chief operations officer."

"God, that's supposed to be high powered isn't it?"

"Meaning?" he said angrily.

"Oh nothing. Obviously you must have great support staff."

"I do," he said proudly but then looked at her suspiciously.

"You are handsome."

He beamed. "I like pretty women like you."

"Yes I bet you do. Are my tits to your satisfaction Jason?"

He choked and went off to pay the bill.

"I'll drive," he said forcibly, as they reached the car.

"Oooh, I like a man who knows his own mind."

Jason swaggered to his door and then hearing a tapping foot rushed around to open Fifi's door for her.

"Am I wearing panties?" she asked, conversationally, knowing she was showing heaps of legs as women do getting into low-slung vehicles.

"I... um... ah."

He ran around the vehicle and getting into his seat said, "I could never take you home. Mother is a strong-minded woman and you two would fight like two cats."

"In that case where will you fuck me?"

The astounded Jason turned out into the traffic flow without signalling right into the path of a police car. It's siren sounded.

"Oh Christ, what a way to start my day."

"Just say sorry officer and leave it to me. If he'd read a newspaper or watched TV he'll recognize me. They are trained to memorize faces."

An athletic-looking policewoman appeared at the window. "Good morning sir. I'm afraid you are in line to receive a ticket. You turned out of a parking area without looking and without signalling, right in front of our vehicle but the offence remains the same had it been any other motorist."

"I'm sorry officer."

Fifi leaned forward to look beyond the crestfallen driver. "Good morning ma'am."

"Good morning... oh heavens, Fifi the heroine from yesterday. Miss Fifi Fuchs isn't it?"

"Yes ma'am. You have a sharp memory. Do you shop at Bradford & Johnston's?"

"Oooh yes."

"Please give me your card and I'll post you two tickets to opening night of our Early Summer Fair. This is just courtesy for you recognizing me. Oh, this is my boss. It's only my second day at Bradford & Johnston's."

"Oh thank you Fifi. Look, we managed to stop in time without being shunted in the rear. I'll just write you out a warning ticket. And sir, please drive safely with Fifi aboard."

As they drove off, correctly, Jason said, "I can't believe what I've just witnessed. You bribed her and yet you made it very clear you were not bribing her, being so definite that if challenged the testimonies of you, the police officer and me would stand up in court. It was a superb exhibition of public relations."

"Well I grew up competing against two older brothers and even worst two older sisters and unlike them I opted to go to the village school for my early education instead of public school like my siblings, so it was Fuck as they called me initially -- Fuck against the entire school until I gradually earned respect and become Fifi to all but the anarchists."

"And that gave you your backbone?"

"No, that was Nanny Smith. She was a secret anarchist and remains so. That extended my skill in coping with opposing views of anarchists and republicans because I'm a conservative royalist. How did you find where I lived?"

"I screwed it out of Sampson."

"I bet you did -- she has big tits."

Jason turned scarlet.

It was time for a commercial break in the screening. Half of Britain raced to make a cup of tea and find new packets of crisps.

CHAPTER 2

Management had decided after an audition to allow Fifi to narrate the Young Ladies segment of the Early Summer Fashion Fair. To their horror she came on stage dressed in her own designs -- jeans covered indiscriminately in big plashes of paint, a high-neck top that finished just under her bra line and her blonde hair had black streaks through it. The thirty press and trade media cameras blinded everyone as the photographers caught what would within days become known as The Contemptuous Summer Look that would sweep Britain and the Continent.

Fifi even named the look. "Hi everyone. I think young people are sick of being dictated to wear prissy fashion. I'm exaggerating what I mean by wearing a look that contemptuously bucks that trend. Sorry we haven't provided paper bags for you older people to vomit in. Right, here we go to present the best collection that Bradford & Johnston has searched the four corners to bring to fashionable young people. I can say I'll be wearing some of these high fashion garments and I'm sorry (she appeared to be lying) that prissy management pulled our bottomless bikini at the last moment. Well here comes Jennifer looking set to kill spring and stave off autumn in this stunning little number..."

At the end the audience, tired out laughing at Fifi saucy comments, managed a standing ovation for her session and as she walked off the fashion media went after her like baying hounds. Other sessions had ended with just polite clapping.

Next day management gloated over newspaper reports lauding the show and all contained a photo of Fifi in her outfit that was generally regarded as 'laudable' but all media missed the chance to brand it.

The hugely popular up-market Fashion Quarterly did that the following week with a cover photo of Fifi, obviously braless, wearing an even more colourful version of her outfit, the heading screaming, 'Launch of The Contemptuous Summer Look for Young Women'.

At Bradford & Johnston's Mr Anthony told Mr Jason he'd better get Fifi's Contemptuous fashion line into production PDQ so Mr Jason approached her to release the patterns to the store.

"Providing you take me to dinner and then do you know what."

"Okay, tonight but the patterns and assignment authority... we need them pretty damn quick."

"I have everything on my laptop with me. I'll go to the legal department now."

"Thank you. I'll look forward to tonight."

"I bet you will."

* * *

Jason narrated his life story to Fifi over coffee.

He'd grown up a bit of a mummy's boy. Penelope his mother, daughter of a long line of successful fishmongers, had a tyrannical streak. An assistant in the fine foods department, Penelope been caught with her pants down in the storeroom by Anthony's father with Anthony raising his head and braying while creaming her. His father forced his son to marry the damn girl who actually 'rose above her station' and went on to become became the best frock and underwear manager in the store's history.

Jason still lived at home and that was his problem. Every female he'd begun to court since his interest in sex began had been driven away by his mother who'd each time would decree the visitor as being unfit for her son. Now 30, Jason would warn each new female he was shagging to curb her desire to meet his mother. He'd patiently explain the danger but the each woman would optimistically believe she had what it would take to win over his mother but to no avail. Currently, to avoid wrecking the confidence of young women he often used his best friend's wives to satisfy his hormones whenever they raged, which at his age was fairly frequently.

The way in which Fifi had burst on to the scene had gripped Jason's imagination. Was this the woman he'd been searching for, one who'd drive the mummy's boy out of his persona and coax him into becoming the powerful force in retailing necessary to take the helm of Bradford & Johnston when the call came? He worried though because of one thing: he thought such a women would have to be about forty, not twenty. Well he'd appraise Fifi as the female lynchpin in his life to supersede his mother but no way would he allow Fifi to get within twenty feet of his mother.

"Oh you told that story beautifully Jason and updated it by including me impacting on your life. Kiss-kiss. I must go.

Mid-afternoon Jason Bradford took a call from Fifi. He asked, "How did you get my confidential phone number?"

"Oh Jason, don't be such a drip. I'm in promotions and publicity remember... I wouldn't be in this department without the guile to find out a fucking restricted phone number, would I?

The question forced Jason to reply. "I suppose not. Have you signed over your authorities?"

"Yes and I'm eighty miles away from you watching the computerized machine cutting the first batch of tops. They are working through the night to land the first consignment to our store by 7:00 tomorrow morning."

"Who authorized that? That damn Marks. That will involve penal rates. Put the damn woman on to me."

"She isn't here. She's home with influenza. I told the Fashion Department coordinator I'd fix it. With Fashion Quarterly in bookshops from this morning we'll have really big demand for those tops. I already have placed the order for jeans and that company's personnel are having a great time splashing paint. It will cost us though. Because of the rush they have had to hire special portable driers."

"And who authorized that? Oh don't tell me, Armstrong also has influenza so you volunteered to substitute?"

"God Jason, you do appear to have a brain after all. Yes, that's correct and delivery of those jeans is assured before we open in the morning."

"Please, please Fifi, tell me you haven't placed repeat orders."

"Come on Jason, you know I would. All up we have batch orders in for 50,000 jeans and a 150,000 tops because young women will buy two or three tops at a time."

"H-h-how many?"

"Don't panic. Just in case I'm wrong about demand in both instances orders can be adjusted or even cancelled but by no later than the end of business tomorrow. I predict at the peak of lunchtime tomorrow the street outside our store will be closed by police to ensure the safety of massing pedestrians."

"Fifi, I'm sorry but this whole thing has gone to your head. It's just not going to happen."

"Come on Jason. Have faith. You know I'm right as much as any person can in predicting consumer demand."

Jason sighed hugely. "I have the sneaking suspicion you'll be proven correct."

"Thank you Jason, that's very courageous of you. I hoped you had it in you. Oh, don't bother booking a restaurant. My PA has just called to say your mother has invited me to dinner tonight."

"No, no -- Fifi you can't...."

"Sorry Jason -- there's an urgent question for me to answer about women with breasts positioned lower on the chest. Bye."

Jason muttered, "Well, it didn't matter if Fifi meets mother. I have no intention of running with Fifi; just the one spurge with her and I'm out of her for good. What the fuck is an assistant manager doing having a PA?"

He called Sampson in her sick bed. "Sampson who authorized a PA for Fifi?"

"You did sir."

"I fucking well did not."

"She said if you create a fuss I'm to say she'll get Mr Anthony to authorize it. She's quite a problem to handle sir."

"Yes Sampson. I am finding that out. But why does she need a PA?"

"It's actually a senior PA with a degree in management sir."

"What!"

"We are getting media calls running at four to six an hour wanting to arrange interviews with Fifi or requesting an illustrated article from her. BBC Business wants her all Thursday to do an extensive interview and to film around the store with her and RTÉ One from Dublin is sending across a team and..."

"Sampson, enough. I'm calling our contract shop-fitters now -- I'll want Fifi housed in your office with you. The office will be more than doubled in size and you'll both have your PAs sitting outside the office behind a proper enclosure with a gate and fittings and finish will be to the highest standard. You get out of bed and go out and select the new desks and furniture and fittings, all coordinated. I'll get the shop-fitters in to do the retrofitting tonight. If you have any ideas please advised me. Just remember TV cameras will be all over your department. I want everyone wearing smart fashion and looking sexy, even you Sampson."

"Yes Mr Jason."

* * *

Penelope Bradford stood on the steps of the 3-floor town house after pushing the release for a security gate leading into the handkerchief-size garden. Fifi came in off the street, looked up and waved and said, "Oh I say, a ground garden in the heart of London."

"Yes but my pride and joy is up on the roof Lady Fifi."

"Oh please call me Fifi and I daresay you wish me to call you Penelope."

Penelope was quite taken aback. "Penny will be quite sufficient Fifi. How lovely to have you visiting."

"It's my pleasure. I have met Mr Anthony and found him most impressive. And now I get to meet the power behind the home throne but already I have learned from senior staff when questioned you were an awesome store manager and remain a director of the company, specializing in finance."

"My, you have done your homework. Please come inside."

"Thank you. Oh god, mom has one of these, in the entrance hall just like this, a George 111 demi-lune sideboard, circa late 1700s."

"Oh how very interesting. Can you get closer with the date?"

"No, but does it matter? It's definitely Geo 3 late 18th century and that's good enough. Is it an heirloom?"

"In a manner of speaking. My mother-in-law left it to me. I treasure it as when I came into the family I was not welcomed but as she aged and I produced a grandson and granddaughter her attitude towards me softened considerably. I suppose you know about that?"

"No, not at all. It's not something people would speak about is it, after all those years ago?"

"I suppose not."

"We I must say a sight like that with a Turner original above it sets the tone of a lovely home, I should think."

"Thank you. You are very disarming for a young person."

"That's kind of you to say so Penny but you will be aware I was brought up to say the right thing."

They laughed and Penny said, "Come in and we'll have a gin or anything you wish. We don't have servants I'm afraid."

"For god sake Penny, relax. I live with my ex-Nanny whose Irish and an anarchist. The house is a mess and she's one of the nicest persons I ever known. She uses the word fuck more than I do."

"Fifi, oh dear."

Fifi laughed and said, "I did suggest you relax. It's far too soon for me to ask have you had lovers so what's your fix on today's fashion for women around your age?"

"Lovers?"

"Oh don't listen to me Penny. I'm just a big tease."

"Fifi I invited you an hour before the men arrive to attempt to learn something about you. In ten minutes I've learned a great deal. You are so open and so knowledgeable and, as Anthony told me when we were watching you on TV the other night, you are surprisingly provocative and you appear to bend at will from being high class to very down to earth."

Using a very low-brow accent Fifi said she went to a village school by choice for her early education where she learned the values of ordinary people and how they lived. She described how she'd won their respect eventually despite 'comin' from up there on the ' 'ill." Then adopting a public school accent she said, "And then I rubbed shoulders to complete my education with privileged people, so you see ma'am I have those two sides to me and feel I'm a better person for it."

"Rather like me."

"Pardon?"

"It doesn't matter."

The men arrived home almost together as they'd been to 'the club.'

"You know Fifi darling?"

"Yes, of course," Anthony said, striding over to her, hand outstretched. Fifi kept her hands to her side and held up her lips to be kissed, so Anthony kissed her.

Jason entered the room and kissed his mother. He then stood at her side and said, "Good evening Fifi."

"Don't you think he should be kissing me Penny? Half the day he's thinking of squeezing a hand down my dress front."

The men gaped, having just heard the upstart call Penelope Penny. Only family and her closest friends called her Penny.

"Go over and kiss Fifi darling and perhaps she's expecting a power kiss."

"Yes Jason and sneak a squeeze of a breast if you wish."

Jason crossed the room like a lamb and kissed Fifi sweetly, keeping his hands on her shoulders where everyone could see them.

"Welcome to our home Fifi."

"Thank you Jason. It's a lovely house. I was surprised to see pyjamas under your pillow."

"But I don't... There you go dad, see what I was telling you. She has no sense of propriety, is a rampant tease, swears, drove my car like a maniac..."

Jason stopped, aware his parents were staring at him.

"You allowed Fifi to drive your car, breaching your insurance conditions," his father frowned.

His mother snorted. "What is this I'm hearing? You allowed Fifi to drive that beast?"

"She tricked me."

"Yes but who was the safer driver," Fifi trilled. "You almost collided with a police car."

Jason's parents stared at him.

"It was nothing," Fifi said.

"The policewoman recognized our heroine beside me, Fifi used her silver tongue and I got off with a warning. Fifi drives superbly. Her brother has a similar model and they race it around a field doing time trials."

"Blonde, very attractive, great figure, accomplished sports women, drives superbly, great conversationalist, a heroine, making a huge impact at the store in her first week, knows how to keep my son out of jail... I think you are a very appropriate companion for my son Fifi. That is, if you can be bothered with him."

Father and son looked at Penny in disbelief.

"Thanks Penny. Does anyone know how to get a drink about here?"

"Oh apologies," Anthony the neglectful host said.

"See dad, see how she knows how to make men jump?"

"Just accept it son. In life you very occasionally come across a woman who has that special edge. Even your mother recognizes it in Fifi."

* * *

Jason arrived at the store at 8:15 next morning, displaying disappointment at not finding a line of people waiting for the doors to open at 9:00. He gritted, "I'd believed in Fifi."

From his office he checked inward goods and was told yes supplies of jeans and tops were already on the Trendy Fashion Floor.

Jason barked, "You are confused. You mean the Modern Miss Floor?"

The warehouse manager said, "The Trendy Fashion Floor. Fifi instructed the name be changed last yesterday including in all the directories. She said she was acting on your authority. Is that not correct sir?"

Jason sighed and with fingers opening and closing in strangulation mode said yes, he'd forgotten he'd authorized that.

He went to the Trendy Fashion Floor and the floor manager and all staff were mounting new displays and rearranging existing displays.

"Bishop who authorized this work at penal rates?"

"No one sir. Last evening Fifi explained the changes she wanted made to this floor and asked everyone to come in early to do the work but that she had no authority to authorize overtime pay."

"She must have had a pang of conscience. Email me Bishop and I'll authorize overtime pay."

The manager sighed, "This is going to be a fucking disaster."

"Pardon me Bishop?"

"I apologize for swearing Mr Jason."

"No I didn't mean the F-word. I mean the reference to disaster. What do you mean by that?"

"Young women will be piling into here today. You ought to have security on duty on this floor for crowd control -- stair access only."

"But how do you know that?"

"Brian cleaning the windows on the street just called to say there's about 200 young women lining up at the front doors and the number is building. My two daughters said they are their friends are sneaking out of school at midday to come in here."