The Price of Gossip

“And that’s a wrap for today, folks. Tune in to my next podcast to find out which desperate woman Alessandro takes out next. If we’re lucky, maybe it’ll even end in a catfight. Oh, we can only hope. Fly-on-the-Wall over and out.”

Libby stops the recording and takes off her headphones. “Ah, another good day’s work.”

She stands and heads to her front door.

As her long black hair gets caught in the zipper of her leather jacket, she curses. After tugging viciously, she manages to close her jacket, but not without ripping a few strands of hairs out. She curses before setting out down the pretty streets of her town until she comes to “The Chatty Cathy”.

“Stacy,” Libby calls. A tall blond woman waves back at her and points to one of the tables in front of the café in the shade before disappearing inside.

Libby sits down in one of the padded basket chairs.

Stacy comes back with one cup of Earl Grey and a Cappuccino, which she places in front of Libby. “My precious,” she hisses, curling her fingers around the big round cup.

Stacy chuckles.

“Hey,” Libby says after a sip, “did you catch my podcast?”

Stacy’s lips pinch into a fine line. She sets her cup down and taps at the pottery. “I did.”

Libby sighs. “Oh, come on Stace. Lighten up. I’m not hurting anyone.”

Stacy doesn’t look at her. “I’m not sure that is entirely true.“

“Hey. I don’t go around cheating on my boyfriend, throw rat poison on my neighbour’s lawn or insult the waitress down at Toby’s by throwing gravy on her. Do I? No, I don’t. All I do is talk.”

Stacy stops tapping her cup and finally looks up.

“Look, Libs, I’m not accusing you-“

“Yes, you are. I’m not doing anything wrong. All my listeners like what I do.”

Stacy pinches her nose. “I didn’t mean to upset you, Libs. I’m just worried. How much longer can you go hiding behind a fake profile? What if someone finds out?” She reaches out and places a hand on her friend’s, squeezing tightly.

“I don’t want you to get hurt.”

Libby’s face loses the angry tension as she squeezes back.

“Besides,” Stacy says with a smile, “what would I do without you? I need someone around to do weird Gollum impressions. My life wouldn’t be complete otherwise.”

The two of them laugh and start chatting until a tall, fetching man stops by their table.

“Oh, my. I have never seen such a delightful woman. Please, milady, tell me that you are free so I can woo you.”

Libby rolls her eyes, and she sips her drink.

Stacy’s cheeks heat and her eyes sparkle. “Ben,” she laughs. “What are you doing here?”

Ben leans down and gives her a kiss before grabbing a seat. “I’m just on my way to the park and saw you. Hey, I just saw a moving truck over on Kingsly Road. I didn’t know anyone was moving here.”

Libby nods. “Yes. Two lawyer brothers have taken over Desmond’s firm. Apparently, they just won a big court case in New York.”

“Huh, makes you wonder why they left,” Stacy says.

“Why indeed,” Libby says.

“Hey,” Ben knocks on the coffee table, “are you two girls going to the park?”

Stacy frowns. “Why there?”

Libby empties her cup. “Clair has organised a `Let’s safe the Playground’ rally and has asked everyone to come. She wants to clean up the playground, so the kids can play there again.”

Ben tilts his head to the side. “Is there anything you don’t know?”

Libby grins. “I’m sure there is still plenty for me to find out.”

Stacy stands up. “Well, come on. Let’s go to the park.”

At the sound of the café’s door chimes and rain, Libby looks up to find an average looking man walking in. He shakes the droplets off his long trench coat and brushes his fingers through his thinning hair. He starts for the counter when he spots her sitting by the windows.

He scowls as she smiles. “Good morning, Georgie. How are you on this lovely day?”

His lip curls up into a snarl and he looks away.

“What’s wrong, Georgie? Did the clown not give you enough candy this morning?”

Georgie glowers at her before turning to the counter and starts giving an impressively long order.

He’s still waiting on it when Libby heads to the side counter to refill her cup.

“So,” one of the cashiers say, “where are you headed today, George? You only place such a big order when you get a big job.”

“Yes,” Georgie says. “It’s out to Melanie’s farm. Apparently, her meat has been making people ill.”

“Oh, that’s terrible,” she cashier says.

Georgie grunts a reply and packs together his order.

By the time he turns to leave, Libby is back in her seat. He scowls at her once more before the door clicks closed behind him.

“Fly-on-the-Wall on the air. Oh, folks. Do I have a story for you.

I’ve heard through the grapevine that people have been getting terribly ill lately. And I know why.”

She leans closer to the mike. “Well, I’ll tell you, my friends. It’s the meat you buy at our market. Yes, that is right. Your trusted farmer, who promises high quality produce for your hard-earned money, has been lying to you.”

She slams her hand on the table. “And who, do you ask, has been acting with such foul intentions? I put the question to you, my dear listeners. Who do we all buy our meat from? Whom were we congratulating when she won the farming prize last year?”

Libby shakes her head. “But I have already said too much. I leave you to make up your own mind. Fly-on-the-Wall over and out.”

The next morning, there was a huge crowd at the market square.

But the stall they were all gathering at was empty.

The “Melanie´s Colourful Farm” sign is hardly recognisable with all the fruit it has been pelted with.

Libby walks past the biggest group of people and picks up snippets of their conversation.

“I never liked her. Her eyes are too far apart.”

“… laughing behind our back…”

“How dare she do this to us?”

Suddenly, two police officers and Georgie rush past her. The police officers try to calm the crowd and persuade them to stop throwing vegetables, while Georgie addresses the chattering people.

“Please, go home. This subject is currently being discussed by the town council and all will be revealed in a few days’ time.”

People scream questions at him that he refuses to answer. At his stubborn refusal to appease the crowd, they turn against him.

The police officers call in some backup and are able to forcibly convince the mob to go home. Or at least, away from the market square. But not before Georgie gets fully pelted by vegetables.

Libby is still giggling when he stops in front of her.

“Did you tell them?” he demands.

“Tell who what?”

His eyes narrow. “Did you tell Fly-on-the-Wall about the meat from Melanie’s Farm?”

Libby claps a hand over her heart. “Me? How could I have possibly known about this? I heard it from a podcast, like everyone else.”

Georgie snarls. Actually, snarls. “Oh, don’t give me that. Whenever there is gossip on the rise, you’re always shouting it the loudest.”

Libby tilts her head to the side and smiles innocently. “Now, that is simply not true. There is someone with more inside knowledge out there than me.”

“Yes, I’ve noticed,” Georgie snaps. “That menace has stolen my stories one too many times. And I will find out who they are. If they believe they can hide behind a voice-changing recording and a fake name, then they should think again. I’m coming for them.”

Libby raises her eyebrow. “Wow, Georgie. Put you in black-and-white, throw in some dramatic music and you could star in one of those old cheesy movies.”

She taps him on the shoulder. “Keep up the good work. I’m sure someone out there appreciates your hard work.”

She smiles at him sunnily and then walks away from the furious reporter.

The following day, the daily paper reports about Melanie and her husband’s, Paul, awaiting trial. For the time being, they are being detained until the authorities have found more proof of their immoral actions.

“You lying cheat,” a brunette screams, throwing her handbag at an attractive man.

Libby watches as five women wail on a tall man with thick wavy hair in “Randy’s Precious Perfume” shop.

“You said you needed more time,” a blond yells, tossing an awfully expensive perfume bottle at Alessandro, who miraculously manages to doge the swan shaped glass.

“Yes, more time to cheat,” a familiar red head retorts, kicking her ex-boyfriend in the shin, who hisses at the pain.

“How do `commitment issues´ mean four other women?” asks the brunette, obviously seething.

They round him in a circle.

“Ladies, ladies,” Alessandro puts his hands up. “Give me a chance to ex- “

“You can stick it, Casanova. We’ve had enough of you.” The brunette turns to the other women. “Let’s go ladies. He’s not worth our time.”

One by one, the women walk past Alessandro.

All but the last woman with rainbow hair and goth clothes. She stops in front of him and says, “You don’t deserve me.”

And slaps him.

He’s still rubbing his cheek as the mall police and the owner finally arrive to survey the chaos Alessandro’s selfish actions have created.

It goes without saying, Alessandro got another earful.

Still chuckling, Libby opens the door to Stacy’s “Flower Garden” shop, just bevor closing time.

A good-looking man brushes past her.

Blinking rapidly, Libby turns to her friend and jerks her thump at the closing door.

“Who was tall, dark and handsome? I’ve never seen him before. I definitively would remember that face.”

Stacy doesn’t even crack a smile.

“That’s Jack,” she answers quietly. “He’s the lawyer that moved here.”

“Okay, so why do you look so upset?” Her head snaps forward. “Do I need to go kick some butt for you?”

At that, Stacy’s expression does finally soften.

“No,” she smiles weakly. “Nothing like that.”

“Alright,” Libby says, leading her friend into the back. “Tell me everything.”

They sit down and Stacy just unloads.

Jack first came into her shop to buy some flowers for his receptionist. Afterwards, he asked her out. She respectfully declined, saying she had a boyfriend.

“On the street, we’d greet each other, but nothing more. But then two days ago, I got a botched shipment of flowers and the delivery man was so mean about it. And then Jack came in. And he sorted everything out. He called my provider and complained. The driver took the flowers back and I didn’t have to pay for anything.”

She waves around the interior of her shop.

“The next day, I got this magnificent delivery totally free of charge. The provider rang to apologize for the mistake and hoped he could make it up to me.”

She huffs. “I was blown away. The flowers are beautiful and some of these variations are really hard to get a hold of.” She starts kneading her fingers in her lap.

“Obviously, I wanted to thank Jack, so I took him out to dinner.”

Stacy starts chewing her lips.

“Stace,” Libby strokes her arm. “What happened?”

“He was being really nice and friendly and I was really relieved.”

Libby frowns. “Why were you worried?”

Her friend glances at her. “Ben. He doesn’t like that Jack asked me out.”

Libby nods. “I understand. So, what happened?”

“After dinner, I wanted to show him the new flowers, so we went back to the shop.”

Her voice is barely a whisper. “Then he kissed me.”

Libby inhales sharply. “How- how did you react?”

Tears well up in Stacy’s eyes. “I kissed him back. It was only once, but-” Her hands cover her face as she starts sopping. “Oh, Libby. I don’t know why I did that. I love Ben, I really do. But Jack was so nice and he was asking all these question about all the flowers, and I felt so comfortable.” Her hands lower. “How am I going to tell Ben about this? He’s going to hate me.”

The two embrace until Stacy stops crying.

“Jack came back today to ask if I wanted to go out to dinner with him. I turned him down.”

Stacy takes Libby’s hand and squeezes. “Libby, you have to promise me that you won’t tell Ben about this. I want him hearing it from me.”

Libby smiles painfully. “Come on, Stace. I wouldn’t do that to you. I won’t say a peep, I promise.”

What a disaster, Libby thinks as she leans back against the newly cleaned park bench.

“I wonder how Ben is going to take it,” she says.

“How Ben is going to take what, Libby dear?”

Libby jerks up, looking into Eleanor’s droopy grey eyes. “Nothing, nothing. Just thinking out loud.”

“Oh, well then,” says the elderly lady as she sits down next to Libby.

Libby settles back against the bench as Eleanor starts ranting about the youth of today not taking the Sunday service seriously. Then she talks about the weekly gossip, switching between Melanie filing for divorce and her impending trial, and that `cad´ Alessandro.

After that, Libby zones out.

“…saw that new lawyer out with his lady friend. Quite a handsome young man, I must say. And he’s completely smitten with that young lady. Oh, what’s her name? You know, she’s blond with that shop. Oh, dear.”

What? Libby thinks.

“But I must say, their relationship has progressed too quickly. I saw them kissing up a storm the other night. And he spent the night! In my day- “

“Wait, Eleanor. He spent the night? Are you sure?”

“Why yes, dear. I might be old, but I can still see well enough.”

“You’re lying.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“You must be wrong. Because Stacy said that she kissed Jack only once.”

Eleanor blinks. “Stacy? Jack? What are you talking about, Libby?”

“The people you saw, Eleanor.”

Elanor shakes her head. “Oh, no. I wasn’t talking about Jack and Stacy. I was talking about Jack’s brother. You know, the other lawyer that moved here. His name escapes me but- did you say that Jack and Stacy kissed? But isn’t she in a relationship with that nice Ben fellow?”

Libby’s face drains of blood. She jumps up, says, “Eleanor, please forget what I said,” and runs away.

Libby is pacing the floor in her lounge when the front door bangs open and then slams shut.

“You bitch,” Stacy seethes. “I told you not to tell anyone. And you promised!” she screams.

“I promised not to tell Ben,” Libby retorts.

“So, this makes it better, does it? For Ben, for the entire town, to find out from Eleanor? That old hag hates everyone. And she loves shaming anyone who doesn’t bow to her morals.”

Stacy tugs at her dishevelled hair.

“Ben heard it from her. From her, Libby! Because you couldn’t keep your big mouth shut. How could you do this to me?”

“I’m sorry, Stacy. I thought she was talking about you and Jack, but actually she was talking about his brother and girlfriend. I never would have- “

“But you did, Libby. You did.” Stacy’s eyes fill with tears.

“Do you know why I didn’t tell you about Jack earlier? I was so worried I would end up as one of your `projects´ on Fly-on-the-Wall’s podcast.” Her tears start falling.

“But then when you came into the shop, I told myself that you would never do that to me. That you would never betray me like that. Because we are friends. And I thought you respected that!”

“Stace, I’m so sorry. I never would have put you on my podcast, I promise. I can fix this; I can go on air and- “

“NO. You don’t get to make this better. You don’t get to walk away and pretend like it never happened. You hurt me, Libby. And I can never forgive that.”

“What do you want me to do then, Stacy? Hmm? Doing my podcast is all that I can do at this point.”

“All you’re interested in is your podcast. That stupid show you put on for people to listen to you. Because they wouldn’t otherwise, isn’t that right?”

“Stop, Stacy. That’s not true.”

“Oh, but it is. You want them to listen. I’ll make them listen to you. I’ll make them see you for who you are.”

She pulls out her phone and starts tipping.

“What are you doing? What are you doing, Stacy?”

Libby’s phone dings just as Stacy finishes typing.

Her phone screen lights up the words “Who’s Fly-on-the-Wall? Two Words: Libby Reeves.”

Her hands start shaking.

“Stacy. What have you done? How could you?”

Stacy turns to the door and opens it. “Karma’s a bitch, Libby. And I hope it tears your throat out.” She slams the door closed.

It doesn’t take long and the banging starts.

“Libby! I know you’re in there, bitch. Come out, so I can show you how hard I really hit.”

“You ruined my life! Let me return the favour.”

“My husband left me because of you!”

“I lost my job because of you!”

“Liar!”

“Worthless scum!”

She rolls up in a ball and puts her hands over her ears.

“Go away, go away, go away. I don’t want this. Stop. Make it stop. Please”

Sobs build in her throat.

“I wish I had never done this. I wish I had never done that damn podcast. I wish I had never gossiped.”