Chapter 3 - irregular duties

Over the next few weeks we opened an additional production line and moved the whole plant to night and day shifts, so there was plenty of overtime for my expanding protégée. I saw her around the factory at all hours, and whenever I dropped by the QC station (which I did increasingly often) Cream Puff was hard at work – or, if she was eating a pastry, she jumped to stuff the remainder in her mouth, as if that would somehow prevent me from noticing.

Once or twice I stifled a laugh and reprimanded her, in a half-joking tone but loudly enough for Jerry and her co-workers to hear. “Eating on the job again, are we? Careful or there won’t be any of those eclairs left for everyone else’s break time…”

Before long it was clear that Cream Puff’s weight gain, far from reversing, had actually accelerated. Her new Large-size uniform clothes could barely contain her, bursting at the seams with her pale doughy flesh. Our factory uniforms and personal protective equipment were certainly not designed to be attractive – but I’ll tell you what, there was nothing sexier than seeing Cream Puff wiggling across the shop floor in her hair net and safety glasses, with her big breasts and stomach bouncing and her plump buttocks straining the fabric of her trousers.

What’s more, the nickname I had given her had quickly spread around the plant – everyone knew who Cream Puff was, from the warehouse guys right up to the senior management. Frequently she was the butt of jokes. One of the forklift drivers would see her jiggling past and would wonder loudly about the weight restrictions of his truck, and whether it could still lift her; or the visiting regional sales manager would be asked, straight-faced in the monthly management meeting, how much revenue had been lost due to Cream Puff stuffing herself with the stock.

One morning I was reviewing the quality control figures for just such a meeting, and one graph among the product yield statistics caught my eye. There was a new product with code CP35380, and its average batch weight was increasing way beyond the control parameters. It seemed to be growing with every weekly spot-check, in a way that suggested a systematic error with the ingredient measurement or machine settings. I was just scratching my head and wondering why I didn’t recognise the product code, when my chain of thought was interrupted by a knock at the door.

I looked up and there was Cream Puff, peering rather timidly around the door-frame.

“Hello, Cream Puff. Come on in,” I said, looking up from one surprisingly large figure to admire another. It was the end of her shift, and her overstuffed clothes were marked with flour. “How can I help you?” I asked.

She hesitated, obviously embarrassed. “I… I was wondering if you could help me with uniform, ah, again,” she stuttered, self-consciously tugging at her shirt. “I guess I have put on some more weight, and the Large ones are… well, they’re much too small now.”

“Yes, I can see that… you must be at least an Extra Large by now. Looks like you have really been enjoying yourself,” I said, looking her up and down. “Well, I always say I like my staff to grow and develop… and you’ve certainly been doing that, haven’t you! Look at you, you’ve got more rolls than the whole bakery!”

Cream Puff smiled shyly at my demeaning joke, folding her hands across her bulging lower belly and chewing on her pink lip.

“It’s just that… well, I went to the stores and they gave me a size XL, but… the thing is, that doesn’t really fit me either. It’s still too tight, especially around here – “ she indicated her bosom and her big stomach – “and they told me that’s the biggest women’s size they have. They said ordering the XXL would need approval from management.”

I couldn’t help but laugh out loud. “So, you’ve outgrown everything in the warehouse, eh? That didn’t take long – you’re quite the little glutton, aren’t you? Well, not to worry. I’ll submit the procurement form later today, and we should have the Extra-Extra-Large size for you in a couple of weeks. Until then, I’m afraid you’ll just have to squeeze yourself into the ones you’ve got. Just try not to grow by another size in the meantime, eh, Miss Piggy?”

She was bright red with embarrassment, and I thought she would turn around and leave, but she lingered. “I… I’ll try not to get any bigger. But, you know, it… it’s difficult to keep my weight under control at the moment. What with the new overtime policy, and everything.”

I was nonplussed. “What policy is that, Cream Puff?”

“Well, when Jerry agreed to let me have all those extra shifts, he explained the new policy around disposing of test batches. Management has put a stop to staff taking products home, just in case they get contaminated outside the factory and someone’s family gets sick – it would be a PR nightmare. And the products can’t be left overnight after the evening shift…” – she was counting off the reasons on her fingers – “and they can’t be binned because the food waste isn’t emptied until the morning, and it’s a vermin risk. So, you know, they just have to be eaten. And… and somehow I always seem to end up being the last one on shift.”

Suddenly, the increased rate at which she’d been piling on the weight made sense. Jerry had exploited her need for the overtime hours, spinning her some health and safety nonsense to persuade her to eat whole trays of pastries before she was allowed to go home. She really was a gullible little fatty – or maybe she was enjoying pigging out and wanted to believe him.

I somehow kept a straight face. “Yes, I can see how that could contribute to your… situation. Look, I’ll check with Jerry to make sure the additional duties are distributed fairly. Still, the company appreciates your commitment to following the regulations. It’s good to have someone so dedicated, even at the cost of a few extra inches on her waistline.” I stepped up to her, pinched a chunky love-handle between my fingers, and gave it a jiggle, making her whole body shake beneath the straining uniform. “Or, in your case, more than just a few extra inches, big girl. Now, before you clock off, you’d better just check whether Jerry needs you to help finish anything off. If I recall we were running custard Danishes today, and I’m sure there were a couple of test trays which might need your attention.”