She's So Heavy

I look at the Floor and I see it needs Sweeping

"I need the main offices vacuumed, all bathrooms thoroughly cleaned, studios three and four mopped plus the control rooms of both, aired and dusted" Missus Dally, the head office lady, never even asked for identification, apparently the cleaning contractors brought in a constantly changing rota of staff into the premises weekly. What luck.

The EMI building was massive and cold, terribly cold. Her thin cardigan wasn't near enough for the temperature that seeped and invaded her bones. Rubbing goose bumps away, she cleaned and scanned for princes and security in equal measure.

It wouldn't do to be this close to the target and get turfed out like yesterday's leftovers.

"Bloody hell" was murmured from her lips after she paused her scrubbing, finally she truly caught sight of herself in the mirrors of the bathroom she currently found herself stood "If only Gary could see me now"

She had to grin it was too funny not to, a dowdy persona had sprung to life and stared back at her through thick prop glasses and severely pulled back and secured hair. The bun was like a vice, nipping and pinching at her crown and the scarf that laid over it was making her look more cockney beggar than cleaner but it did communicate age, which was what she needed to step over the threshold. Too young and she would have been assessed for fangirl qualities and possibly turned away, an aged person wouldn't bother the princes now would they.... It wasn't a walk in the park but it had worked and that's all she had hoped for.

Voices boomed down the sparse void that was the corridor, edging ever closer and Jackie could hear two or three sparring men now stood just outside the bathroom she was cleaning. The voices mumbled and laughed and argued jovially but never got any closer nor further away, minutes passed as Jackie finished off shining the faucets over the sink and she readied herself for her first proper contact with the people that lurked within the building.

Lots of people worked here it seemed. Technicians and producers, the canteen staff, the cleaners obviously, office ladies, she also passed some painters and a few men lugging office furniture between room. But everyone else had been in their own world and it was only now that she would actually be stepping out, interrupting people as they held conversation in the doorway, that she would need to possibly interact.

She turned to bend and pick up the bucket and, in that moment, the white glossy door burst open and half a palace of princes stepped into her life. Bleach and lemon jiff made the place reek, Jackie's eyes had stung while she squirted the stuff about and even after scrubbing and flushing the loos multiple times the air was thick and heavy with vaporous fumes. She was following orders, a how to clean shoddy lavs list was stuck on the inside door of the cleaning trolley reminding her how to clean. As if anyone didn't know.. The place had been disgusting and smelling of far worse when she had entered so the bleach and jiff was better but only slightly. Immediately John scrunched up his nose and without thought he let the door swing back toward an unsuspecting Paul.

"God damn it, I'd rather smell piss than bleach" John spun on his heel and leaned up to open the small window that had been far too high for Jackie to reach. John then wafted air in and waved his hands around to try and dissipate the bleach vapours.

"Watch the door la... Anyway, I really think the middle eight should be a bit jiggier"

"Jiggier. Is that jumpier or jugglier in sound?" With a hand flapping in front of him John rolled his eyeballs, Paul's terms- jiggy, juggy, jumpy whatever it was, was not a clear way to express what he wanted John to do about the middle eight.

"Narf off it's bouncy, that's what it is- Oh 'ello luv. Didn't see the cleaner's sign out in the hallway"

With bucket full of cleaning products which happened to include an unused cleaners sign wedged deep in the side plus a rag in her hand Jackie hadn't a hope of picking her chin up off the floor where it now perched as her eyes took in Paul McCartney's apologetic face. Thank goodness she had mopped- her chin would be ever so dirty if not. She giggled quietly at the image her thoughts made then thought best to laugh a little stronger, you know, like an older Cockney beggar would.