I check the time again. It doesn't look as though we're going to get this order finished on time, so, a bit of overtime coming my way by the looks of it.
I spot Aiden, the boss out the corner of my eye. He'll want this done for tomorrow. I'm sure of it.
"Alright Jim, how's it going? Will this be packed and ready to go in the morning, mate?"
"Not likely! We're a good couple of hours off."
"Can you stop and finish it if I find a helper?" He asks. "You'll have to lock up as well. I'll go and see who's available."
I carry on and wonder who'll get roped in this time.
It's usually Alan. He's ok to work with but he doesn't like football, nor music, of any kind.(I know, weird!) But I think he's off this week anyway.
Sally from the office sometimes helps but doesn't do overtime. It'll have to be one of the girls from picking. There's some lovely looking ones but I have to admit some of them scare me. Very loud and brash and to say some of the chat is a bit racy would be an understatement.
The buzzer sounds. Knocking off time for everyone else but no sign of a helper and I can't see the boss staying. Maybe the overtime's cancelled.
No, here he comes. And who's that skulking behind him. Ah! It's little Hayley. Beautiful girl but moody as hell. Proper teenage mardiness even though she's 21. I heard all about her and the other girls' night out for her birthday. I wouldn't have survived it by the sounds of it. I don't know how anyone survives after drinking cocktails and shots all night.
"Ok Jim. I found you one." The boss gives a chortle and guides the miserable girl to the table.
"You know what you're doing, don't you Hayley?" Aiden asks her.
"Yeah." Is her resigned response.
She glanced at me briefly, the corners of her mouth flickers slightly (an offer of a smile?), then she picks up the paperwork to see what the job was.
The boss gave me a look as if to say 'youngsters today!'
"Alright then Jim, you should be done by half six. Just remember to check all the delivery doors before you leave. See you both tomorrow."
He headed off towards the office to get his things and leave. He rarely stops nowadays, I think his enthusiasm for the place has gone.
I turn to my workmate and try to think of something amusing to say.... nothing comes to mind.
"Right, let's do this!" I may have overdone the enthusiasm a bit here and Hayley gives me another blank look.
"We've got these two cages to fill for delivery tomorrow. We don't need to worry about the rest of the job." I point out a couple of metal cages that we need to fill with packed boxes. Again, barely a flicker of acknowledgement from the girl.
Hayley is probably seven or eight inches shorter than me, say around 5'2. She's fair skinned with light brown hair, which is tied in a ponytail. Her ponytail sits quite high, in fact almost on top of her head. I like how it moves and sways.
We make a start, not a word is muttered between us. She can be quite vocal when she's working with the rest of the girls. I suppose that's because they're all around the same age. Plenty of common ground. I'm twice her age and I have no idea what her generation are into. I've heard some of the 'music' on the commercial stations. Awful! Or just bland pop or screeching, whining crap. Give me some Rock anyday!
The silence between us is starting to feel awkward already. It's going to be a loooooong couple of hours!
I sneak the occasional look (letch) at Hayley. Our work uniform, a pale green t-shirt with the company logo, is a relatively new idea from the boss. ( A rare show of interest in the company.) We'd previously just worn our own clothes. Not everyone is a fan. However, I'm on board with it, especially as they've come in a little on the snug side. Hayley's certainly shows off all her curves. Sadly mine does the same for me too. Moobs and a beer belly aren't a great look but I've enjoyed the work I've put in to developing them.
Hayley runs out of boxes. Again, she says nothing and heads off to the storage area. I watch her as she walks away, her t-shirt is rucked up and sits on her bubble-like backside. I watch it as it bounces and wiggles as she walks along. I tell myself that I should be better than this, I'm a married man. My daughter is only a few years younger than Hayley!
I love what the girls here are wearing on their legs. They have pretty much all gone for the same look, tight black leggings which shape their legs beautifully and they wear them with bright white socks, usually pulled up over their ankles and a little way up their calves. It's a look I find very arousing. Hayley's ice-white socks look 'boxfresh' and have two black stripes at the top. They are neatly aligned and pulled up a few inches above her safety shoes. Her black leggings, which hug her legs, are made from a smooth, shiny, lycra-like material.
As she returns, I try to snap out of it and focus on the job. She's walking with a slight swagger on her return but still looks moody as she puts the boxes on the table. I notice her glance across at the boxes I've packed while she was fetching the boxes, there's not many. I've slowed down, mainly due to my ogling and fantasising.
"We should be done well before half-six, no problem." I say and give her a half hearted smile.
Hayley presses her lips together and slightly upturns each corner of her mouth. I will have to take that as a smile.
Over the next hour I try to start a couple of conversations. First of all about upcoming holidays.
"Have you got any time off this autumn?"
"Yeah, a couple of weeks"
"Are you going away?"
"Yeah."
"Anywhere in mind?"
"Ibiza."
"Oh! Nice! With your friends?"
"Yeah." She said this last word over her shoulder as she went off for what I presume was a toilet break.
I can smell her returning before I see her. She's liberally applied some perfume or deodorant of some kind. It's strong, powerful yet alluring.
Another period of awkward silence followed on her return. I try to count the minutes down to the end, but it doesn't help.
I begin to get a little distracted by her hair, as it bounces and flicks about on top of her head as she works next to me. It just adds to her cuteness and juxtaposes her aloof manner. She looks good, she smells great, she's perhaps too quiet. All I need to know now is how she feels and how she tastes!
After another brief 'conversation' about local nightlife and what she and her friends do of a weekend, I realise our work is nearly done.
We finish our last boxes and put them in the cage. I check the time.
"Ten past six! Not bad."
Hayley already has her bag on the table and looks ready to go. I understand. At her age, she doesn't want to be stuck at work with some middle aged bloke.
"I just need to check the back doors and we can head off."
I head off towards the back of the factory where the vans collect the outgoing work. It's a separate room through a small door.
I have to admit, even as a grown man, I hate going into the room, it's always dark and dingy even with a light on.
