the cloakroom incident
a)

It felt like a big night; it looked great, Yin and the rest of the art department had done a good job. Good crowd. No major incidents.


There seemed to be lots of people in, I sensed ticket sales on the door must have been good.


About two o’clock I bumped into Morris and he told me all the overheads were covered and I knew they wouldn’t be counting the bar takings till the end, so I was in good spirits.


I was up on the balcony looking down over the crowd on the main dance floor and spotted Oscar and Donna standing beside the stage, I hadn’t had a drink all night, and thought I’d let them know about the money and perhaps we’d have a drink to celebrate a job well done.


I’m pretty sure I picked up a bottle and three glasses from the upstairs bar.


When I got to the bottom of the staircase I noticed a big queue for the cloakroom. I must’ve been annoyed the cloakroom staff weren’t managing to keep things moving. I saw two people at the front of the queue going mad swearing at someone inside.


I went inside and Morris was already in there trying to take control, barking instructions at the guys, speaking calmly to the punters.


I asked him what the hell was going on and he told me they’d fucked up the ticket system, and that the woman in charge had panicked and done a runner.


In a couple of minutes it was clear they couldn’t match tickets to coats. I remember feeling a bit sick and then thinking the staff might all run off, I think Morris sensed that too, I remember at one point he gathered them all together.


The punters were getting hysterical at the front of the queue. The noise level was unbelievable.


People right at the front could either see their coats or were telling me they could remember where they’d been hung up.


I let a group of sober ones inside to find their coats. Not long after that the double doors were pushed in and the boldest from the queue were inside pushing and grabbing . The next stage was chaos, drunk people, hysterical people, scared people looking for coats and jackets.


Donna and Oscar arrived about then and we all rolled up our sleeves. I can’t remember too much about the next hour or so, but my clearest memory of the whole night is turning round and making eye contact with a young woman putting on a tartan coat; three quarter length, sky blue.


From her movements I knew straight away it wasn’t hers. She looked a bit unsteady on her feet. She pulled the lapels tightly around her throat, lowered her face slightly and raised her eyebrows at me, like a child begging for an expensive toy. I turned away. I turned back a couple of seconds later, she was gone.


I was in Corniche about three months later and I saw the coat hanging up, £1,750. It was a very impressive item, beautifully made, tiny stitches, silver lined, thin belt and silver buttons that I remembered noticing on the night, quite magnificent.


Even after all the hassle on the night and the work Donna and Oscar had with the insurers and all the compensation claims I remember being pleased for her. I bet she loves that coat, it really suited her.
b)

It still feels a bit like a dream.


I shouldn’t have been there, been there in charge I mean. Moira was down to do it.


They bring me in to do silver service and other waitressing. I told her I was worried about cloakroom, I’d only done it once before.


When we met outside she was all dressed up. She handed over a box of raffle ticket books, told me she couldn’t do it, gave me an extra 100 pounds on top of my New Years Eve bonus and disappeared, no contact number.


I remember her saying its free, no cash box, easy.


There was four of us Gerry, Margaret and a student, I can’t remember her name. She was useless and Gerry was on something.


Gerry was pissed off I was in charge, he said he’d done loads of cloakrooms with Moira. I didn’t know if I was in charge or he was.


I asked why he was using two blue books, he just shook his head and stared at me, you know that look, like you must be simple.


We didn’t speak again until it was clear his way of doing it was wrong. By that time I knew there would be trouble when they all came down at the end. I was a bit scared.


The bloke Oscar came down before midnight with a bottle of Champagne for us. He seemed nice. I nearly said something to him. I’m sure he noticed Gerry was off his face.


When the big blonde guy asked who’s in charge here, the student pointed at me. I started screaming at Gerry, but he was away with it, I wasn’t getting through.


I was close to tears. There were two guys going mental, and I remember this frightened girl leaning over with her hands together like she was praying, saying over and over, it’s red with a silver thistle broach, please, please !


I started feeling different, odd, my heart was racing, I thought there was something really, really wrong with me. I was sure I was going to pass out.


I can’t remember how I got out onto the street. The doctor said it was an anxiety attack and nowadays it happens once or twice a year but at least I know what’s happening. That was the first one I ever had.


My Dad picked me up.
c)

Dear Ms Gillespie,


I feel the need to express in writing my dismay at the loss of a much loved coat from the cloakroom at your event on New Years Eve.


It is a navy blue Mackintosh with random placed white and ivory spots. It has a row of contrast buttons that run from the collar to the belt, double welt pockets at the front and a jacquard lining in the same spot design.


In one of the pockets you will find a photo of a cat.


From my conversation today with Mr. Van Heek I understand that all the garments unclaimed on the night have now either been claimed or don’t fit this description, but I’m still hopeful that someone might return the coat once they realise their mistake.


I must say I was shocked at what occurred on the night and feel sure I’ll never be able to leave valuables in a cloakroom again.


When I went to collect my coat there was an angry mob gathered on either side of the double doors. A large man in a dinner suit was standing on a table, he held up a tweed jacket and yelled something like 203 blue. Nobody came forward to claim it and he tossed it into a cardboard box.


I told him that was no way to treat expensive garments, but he just kept going.


I’m led to believe this man was one of your door security staff and had been instructed to try to place all items with no tickets attached. Surely it would have been wiser to hold all these items and have the owners return in the morning with a clear head ?


In saying that, I must admit everyone I’ve spoken to at your office has been courteous and the offer of compensation seems reasonable. However, before I accept I would like to place ad’s in the local press to try and recover the coat. I trust you would be prepared to pay the costs of this exercise.


Yours Faithfully,

Grace Forrester