Diamond and Pearl Have an Enemy

Gloria shoved the last of her grandmother’s moth eaten dresses and coats into the garbage bag. This one was all fur coats. One of the them was a fox stole with a fox’s actual face on the end of it, and a clasp that attached to its pointy little mouth. It hooked onto the other end, so you could have a beast’s head sitting right on your clavicle. Its poor, sad, dead eyes had been replaced by black shiny marbles.

Gloria shuddered. It was truly hideous.

She tried to imagine her gnarled up gran in her prime, wearing one of the lace dresses with court shoes and seamed stockings, with the fox stole slung over her shoulders, but it was difficult.

The gran she had said goodbye to last month was a tiny, shrivelled up skeleton, with just a wisp of white hair and sunken eyes.

She was gone now, and Gloria was a practical woman. She was not a vintage lover and thought jackets that had once been fluffy animals were just plain awful, so it was to the Charity shop with all of it. What had started as a meticulous sorting had turned into an aggressive shovelling of oversized cloth into black plastic that kept tearing.

Pearl switches on the lights and they all buzz on at once, revealing a huge boutique with racks of colour coded heaven. She loves surveying her handiwork. She sees that Diamond has put the vintage ball gowns a little closer to the doors, with the Givenchy belted maroon waist dress at the front. She approves. It really pops.

But it looks like Diamond has gone a little rogue and done a whole rack of glam rock looks. Furry waistcoats and spray on shiny jeggings with a lot of animal print. It is fun, but they hadn’t spoken about it.

This is what happens when I leave early, thinks Pearl.

She is well aware that Diamond plans things and waits until Pearl isn’t there to execute them.

They would talk about it later.

Even though she likes the glam rock rack, Pearl wheels it closer to the Povo racks, as they call them. Just to make a point.

On cue, Diamond pushes open the double glass doors and they bash against the wall. The sound makes Pearl nearly roll her ankle. The silver strappy platforms are a little small and rather precarious.

“Jesus, Diamond! You gave me heart attack!” Pearl clasps her pearls and limps over to the cash register to see what paperwork Helen stuffed up last night.

“Morning gorrrrrgeous!” Diamond sashays over to the counter, not noticing the rack change yet.

She’s wearing a leopard body con dress with hot pink fishnets and low zebra ankle boots with a red fake Chanel quilt bag over her shoulder and pink Ray Bans that are almost certainly from Bali. She looks fabulous.

“You’re wearing the shoes!” She gushes, lowering her sunnies to reveal the matching pink eye shadow. “I love them on you!”

“You look amaaaze!” Pearl says and Diamond does a little catwalk turn to show the full glory.

Travis comes in from the back warehouse holding two gigantic coffees. He looks a little red rimmed and glassy in the eye area, but the girls say nothing. He comes to work and drives a forklift stoned, but he brings them coffee every day.

He brings them coffee every day so he can drive a forklift stoned.

His reflective vest does nothing for his sallow skin, and Pearl tries to think of a nice thing to say about his appearance but can’t find anything.

“Oh, you! Thank you sweetheart! You’re a lifesaver!” Pearl point at Travis and shakes her head in wonder. “This guy!”

“Oh, I know, he’s the best! Travis is the best!” Diamond holds out her multi ringed hand and takes her coffee. “Vanilla syrup?”

“Yep. How’s it going?” He always seems so bored. Which is odd to Diamond and Pearl, because there is nowhere else they would rather be. St Horace’s of the Divine Bleeding Heart’s Charity Megastore is Nirvana.

“Jackie, a lady just came in with a whole stack of stuff. You might want to check it out. It looks old and it smells like dead animals.” He hands Pearl her coffee. She snatches it and purses her lips.

Pearl ignores him. She’s not going to play this game.

“It’s PEARL, Travis,” Diamond gives him the same pursed lips and Travis does everything within his power to stop the eyeroll that is forming in his eyeballs.

“Ok, sure. Well, Diamond and Pearl… Some lady’s grandmother died and there is heaps of shit to go through. Plus the charity bin guy from Bay area has unloaded his bins.”

Diamond claps her hands together and the bangles sound like Christmas bells. “Ooh we love a dead old lady don’t we, Pearl!”

“That we do! And Bay area always has good stuff. Thank you Travis.” Pearl gives him a little side eye and takes a sip of her coffee, which is actually more of a vanilla chai latte, but today is not the day to complain.

Travis walks back to the warehouse to sneak in a quick cone before the women take over his space.

“Oh my god. When can we do it?” Diamond is jumping up and down, a little coffee splashing onto her front and she frowns, wiping it away.

Pearl is looking at receipts and sighs. “Soon, D. I just need to sort out this mess.”

There is no mess. Helen used to be an accountant. She is meticulous with balancing the till and reconciling receipts, but Pearl sometimes has trouble understanding how the system works and can’t let on.

“Can I start?” Diamond is walking slowly back towards the warehouse, where a mountain of wonder is waiting to be sorted and discovered. This would not usually be the manager’s job, but Pearl and Diamond have style and recognise brands and trends, so no one else can do it. Unless it’s the Western Suburbs bins, which are more or less just stained K-Mart fleeces and stuffed toys.

“No!” Pearl snaps. Honestly though. It’s like working with a child. “Who’s going to manage the floor? Huh? We need to wait for Helen at least.

“Fine. I’m going to sort the skinny jean rack then.” Diamond does an exaggerated turn and charges down to the high end jeans section to weed out the stained and torn jeans the staff sometimes sneak onto there.

She stops suddenly. “What happened to Glam Rock?”

Pearl looks up and sighs, “Do we actually need a Glam Rock? It’s not even party season yet and it just looked a bit like a rack of dead Muppets.”

Diamond tries to form the right words but the rage has taken over and then doors open softly and Helen shuffles in, head bowed, an anxious look on her face. A little brown mouse, ready to be walked over all day.

“Hi Pearl, hi Diamond,” she squeaks. She would never call them Jackie and Raelene. Ever. She would probably get fired.

They regard her as you would a leaf blowing past in the wind.

“Hey.” They say in unison.

Helen deals with Povo. And the kids’ racks. Diamond and Pearl have no interest in either section and Helen is lucky to have a job.

What Diamond and Pearl don’t know is that Helen has two Barbies propped up at home on the mantle that she found in the store (she paid for them, full price) and they are dressed as Diamond and Pearl in tacky, clashing colours with lots of skin showing. Helen likes to burn them with a lighter and then stick little dress pins into their faces. It makes her feel better.

Every time the hideous women say something mean to her, she jots it down in her small, neat handwriting in her small black leather book.

Her mother had given it to her, perhaps as a way to push her aggressively single only child into dating.

Acquiring a gentleman’s phone number and is snortable. Acquiring several gentleman’s numbers requiring a little black book is hysterical. But Helen likes to keep notes on people who slight her. And she loves to pour over these notes and plot revenge, a hobby, of sorts.

After Pearl is done frowning at receipts, it’s time to go through new stock. The women try not to look like they are racing there, they never run. But they casually powerwalk as though it’s an Olympic sport.

It’s not easy casually powerwalking in ill-fitting 80’s platforms and Diamond takes the lead.

In going through new merch, there are rules:

• If they love something, they can keep it.

• if they love it but it’s small, it goes to Pearl.

• if they love it and it’s roomier, it goes to Diamond.

• They are allowed to keep 3 times each, give or take a few.

• If it’s a high end brand, they need to plead their case because high end brands look good in store.

But they also understand that fashion is everything and they deserve nice things. It’s the code. They are sisters in all things fashion and since the day they found each other they have a deep, mutual respect for being fabulous and amazing. Although they would probably run the other one over for vintage Yves Saint Laurent.

These rules only apply to Diamond and Pearl. No one else in the store is allowed to take anything. If Diamond and Pearl don’t want you to have it, you don’t get it, even if you offer to pay full price.

This forces Travis and the other warehouse workers to scavenge and steal whatever they like before the managers have access to anything. Then they sell the good stuff to other staff and friends at heavily discounted prices. This side hustle allows Travis to buy as much weed as he wants, which he also often sells in the warehouse.

Diamond and Pearl stop and take it all in. A literal mountain of garbage bags, Ikea bags and 3 stripe plastic bags chockers full of possible treasures. The squeeze each other’s hand and know they are in exactly the right place.

They know they could be one bag away from the leftovers of a rich, eccentric socialite with Dementia and a lifetime of mint condition Chanel.

So far, Pearl has snaffled away a Cartier scarf and some black patent leather Betty Paige style stripper heels.

Diamond has a Madonna-like beaded conical bustier which looks way too small for her, an original Gun’s n Roses tour t-shirt, which she would modify to a crop top and a tattered Louis Vuitton graffiti clutch from the early 2000’s, which she reckonsed could be salvaged with a little sugar soap and a toothbrush. It’s real, or a very good fake anyway.

She also finds a Peaches and Cream Barbie from the mid 80’s still in its box, which would get her a couple of hundred bucks, she figures. But Pearl would want it for the shop, so she hides it in an old Sports Girl bag.

They watch each other closely over the piles of clothing and bric a brac. They ride a complex wave of emotions on a loop – fierce competition, excitement, shared joy, jealousy, suspicion, boredom, repeat.

It’s a good haul and the girls emerge from the warehouse dishevelled but triumphant.

“Helen, there’s some big piles for Povo to go through and tell Trevor there’s rubbish to chuck.” Pearl barks, in Helen’s general direction.

Helen scuttles towards the chain-link fence to the warehouse.

“Two days, Pearl. Two days for the shop to look like a bloody brothel. And not even a nice one! One of those places in the industrial estate! Lord have mercy!”

Diamond stalks around the displays throwing clothes on the ground and muttering to herself. How hard is it to make the store look good? It was her reputation on the line!

Helen is pleased to be sifting through clothes in the warehouse. She doesn’t have to speak to anyone and could get lost in the joy of sorting by colour, size and type.

An old black wool coat has been tossed in her pile. It is very old, and had once been quite beautiful. But the seams had come undone on the sleeves and hem. Helen could fix it right up. Shame to let something just shrivel up and die, even if it wasn’t the brightest or prettiest.

It has something in the pocket and Helen pulls it out to inspect it. It’s a small, black, velvet bag, wound up tightly with black ribbon. Curious, thinks Helen.

She holds her breath and unravels it. Helen’s heart begins to pound in her chest, she could hear it. A little squeak escapes her mouth. It’s full of crisp, perfect one hundred dollar notes.

Those diamonds were long gone now though, sold for a pittance and gambled away on the pokies.

This ring is probably a family heirloom. Helen toys with the idea of tracking down its owner and being a hero. It would feel good, but only for a few minutes.

Selling it would have more benefit. The money would feel good for longer. And it she bought some parrots, the money would feel good forever.

Helen has always wanted parrots. She loves King Parrots. And Lovebirds. But she has a thing for Painted Finches too. She could get a whole aviary now with ………….

“What’s that?” Pearl’s shrill voice snaps her out of her trance.

“Oh, nothing. An old ring box. A crappy old ring inside. Just glass, I’m sure.”

Pearl snatches it from her hand. “Oh my god Helen! That is not a bloody glass ring. Are you stupid? It’s a bloody diamond and sapphire ring! This must be worth…thousands!”

Pearl’s eyes bulge out of her thin face and her breathing speeds up.

“Holy shit! I can’t believe I found it!”

Pearl tried the ring on and it fit perfectly on her engagement finger.

Helen can hear Diamond running towards them before she sees her, her bangles jingling and her lycra making a swishing noise as her thighs rubbed together.

“What is it?” She squeals.

“I found a ring! A very valuable ring!” Pearl declares.

“Let me see it!” demands Diamond.

“No! you’ll take it!”

“No I won’t!”

The grown women start slapping each other’s hands and Pearl tries to turn to get away. But Diamond shoves her, and with her delicate ankles and towering shoes, Pearl goes down hard and cries out in pain.

Diamond isn’t falling for it though and grabs Pearl’s wrist with one hand and starts yanking the ring off. Pearl kicks her with her good leg.

Travis and Helen watch those managers fight. They are like two lipsticked pigs rolling around in rainbow mud. They grunt and squirm around, pulling at each other’s hair and clothing.

Finally, Diamond is able to wedge the ring off Pearl’s finger. It performs an Olympic quality triple summersault and flies, almost gravity defying, through the air. There is silence in the moment, and time slows as they all watch the ring fly past.

It lands in a pile of Diamond and Pearl’s Povo rejects, which spans 5 metres wide and at least 2 metres high.

They both scream in unison and Diamond runs towards the pile.

Pearl drags herself along at Olympic medal speed. She catches Diamond’s foot and Diamond falls headfirst into a child’s Xylophone. Her head clangs with a cartoon sound effect and she drops a heavy F bomb, but keeps moving.

Helen and Travis have the same half smile on their faces. They daren’t look at each other, but they stand together in solidarity.

Eventually, Travis helps Pearl to her feet, which Helen thinks is extremely brown nosey and she goes back to the counter.

Shadows in the warehouse grow as the women sift through old clothes and shoes, both with dried tears smearing their eye make-up, hair a mess and shoes off. Diamond’s leopard dress is twisted up around her stomach, and her spotty undies are visible through the pink gusset of her fishnets.

Pearl’s shoes are off, and her ankle has swelled up the size of an eggplant, the colour too.

The first few hours they hurl frenzied insults at each other, , but after a while it’s just silence. They don’t have the strength to speak. They embark on a more systematic approach using a grid, starting from the top and digging to the bottom. They are doing everything together because trust is a thing of the past.

It’s literally a needle in a haystack.

Except the needle is gone.

Travis, despite being ripped most of the time, has excellent eyesight and spatial awareness, and clocked exactly where the ring went.. Being quite a sneaky fellow, he snaffled up the ring while helping Pearl up.

It’s a two pronged victory. One is, of course, having the ring to himself. But the other is seeing the women fighting over it. They are despicable creatures and deserve the agony they are experiencing.

By midnight, the women have all but given up.

They should go home, but they are so suspicious of each other they sleep on the pile of old, dank clothes.

Helen sleeps well in her warm bed with its hospital cornered sheets. Beside her on the pillow are two mangled Barbies with pins in their eyes and electrical tape around their mouths and ankles.

Travis sleeps with a smug smile on his face and a very sparkly ring on his pinkie finger.

Head management of the Divine Bleeding Heart’s Charity Megastore arrive at 9am to inspect the store, and see two sleeping half-dressed managers asleep on a huge pile of clothes. Helen had let herself in and had decided not to wake them, they needed their rest.

As Diamond and Pearl are escorted from the store, not without a fuss, Brendan from centre management speaks to Helen in a hushed tone. He praises her good work and level head in times of turmoil and makes her store manager.

The next morning, Travis brings Helen a large cappuccino and a black metal cage with two green and sunset coloured Lovebirds in it. Travis is an enterprising young man and he knows a thing or two about ensuring you fly under the radar.

Helen is delighted with her Lovebirds. She calls them Diamond and Pearl.