by Linda Green
‘Oh great,’ I say as I read it.
‘What?’ asks Sadie.
‘I’m hardly going to be able to see Lee for the next fortnight.’
‘You’ll have to go for some more hot lunch dates.’
‘It’s not the same.’
‘You mean because you can’t shag him?’
‘No,’ I say, turning sharply back to Sadie. ‘I mean I want to spend proper time with him. Last weekend was so amazing, God knows when we’re going to be able to do that again.’
Sadie comes over and looks at the rota. ‘I’d offer to swap with you,’ she says, ‘but we’re on exactly the same shifts.’
‘I know. Thanks anyway. I guess I have to hope he’s keen enough not to mind.’
It’s about an hour later when Lee texts me.
Thanks for a great weekend. Last interview slot going is midday on Wednesday. Am saving it for you. Let me know. No pressure. When can I see you again? X
I shut my eyes and sigh. I could do midday Wednesday; I’m not starting work until two. Lee wants to see me again and if I stay here it’s never going to happen. He’ll end up getting bored waiting around and go off with someone else. I can’t risk that. I don’t want my new life to be over so soon. I’m enjoying it way too much for that. I send the text quickly, before I have a chance to change my mind.
Thanks. I’ll take it, if you’re sure I’m up to the job, that is. I’m off work tomorrow evening then not till Monday next week. X
I stuff the phone back in my pocket and blow out hard. I’ve done it now, I really have. Sadie will go mental if I leave, I know that. But I also know I can’t go on working here if I want this relationship to work. And it has to work. I’ve seen my future and I want it. Well, apart from the end bit, obviously. And I can change that. I must be able to change that. But I have to make sure the rest of it happens first.
My phone beeps again, another text from Lee.
That’s great. Carl will be interviewing you. Wear something smart but feminine. And the boots I got you. You’ll knock him dead. I’ve got a work thing on tomorrow eve so I guess I’ll have to wait till Monday. X
I’m not sure about the feminine thing. I don’t even know what ‘smart but feminine’ means, to be honest. Although I’m pretty certain I don’t possess anything that fits into that category. I’ll have to go out during my break and get something. Which is a pain as I’m skint as it is. I need to do it, though. I need to look the part. I can’t risk showing Lee up by going in leggings.
I take my break while Sadie is still busy in the kitchens. If I pop to somewhere in the shopping centre I can be back before she realises I’ve gone. I hurry down the escalator. Clearly, Primark isn’t going to cut it for this one. I stare at the mannequin in the window of French Connection. She’s wearing a black pencil skirt with a white blouse in a floaty, almost see-through fabric. I walk into the shop, conscious that I look rather out of place. I wait for the female assistant to sneer at me, like in Pretty Woman. She doesn’t though. She smiles and asks if she can help. I tell her I need to look smart but feminine for a job interview. A few minutes later I’m standing in the changing room, gazing at my reflection in the mirror. I look like a fucking receptionist. Which freaks me out, even though it’s what I asked for.
‘I’ll take them,’ I say to the assistant when I get back outside. I don’t even look at the figure on the card machine as I put my number in. Whatever it is, it’ll be worth it if I can be with Lee.
Joe Mount Jess Mount
2 August 2017
I nearly didn’t do it, you know. When the undertaker arrived and I saw the hearse outside, I thought about pushing him out of the way, telling the driver to get out and taking off with you. I didn’t really think through where I’d go. That didn’t matter. All that mattered was that it wouldn’t be to a cemetery to bury you. I don’t think I actually believed it until today. Until I saw your body in a coffin. I cried, Jess, great big, noisy sobs. All the way there in the hearse and all the way through the service. I wasn’t the only one, of course. I think everyone there was in tears at some point. But I was the only one who was burying my daughter.
Saying goodbye to you was the hardest thing I have ever done. I know Lee was saying goodbye to his wife but it’s not the same. He might find another wife one day but I’ll never find another daughter.
Harrison won’t ever find another mum either. One of the things that hurts most is that he won’t be able to remember you. I’ll tell him everything about you as he grows up, though. All the silly, crazy things you used to say and do. The things that drove me and your mum mad. And all the brilliant stuff too. The way you made a room light up just by walking into it. The way you looked at him even when you’d been up all night and had hardly got any sleep.
Goodnight, Jess. I’m so very proud to have had you as my daughter.
Jess
Wednesday, 3 February 2016
It’s a long time before I stop crying and can even think about facing Dad. I splash my eyes with cold water several times, then look up at the ceiling and blow out long and hard, trying to calm myself.
When I do finally make it downstairs, I have to stop and compose myself again before I enter the kitchen. Part of me wishes I could put some sort of spell on my dad, bloody stupefy him, anything to stop him going through that. The only tiny shred of comfort I have is that whatever Sadie said to the police, it didn’t stop them burying me. I don’t think he could have coped with that. At least now he has put me to rest, however difficult it was for him.
I make a little noise in my throat as Dad turns and smiles at me.
‘Morning, love,’ he says. ‘You’re up early.’
‘Yeah. Thought I’d have breakfast with you today before I grab a shower.’
His smile broadens. ‘Great. How about poached egg on toast then?’
‘Sounds good,’ I say.
He starts busying himself. He is never happier than when he is in the kitchen. Mum used to sit there watching him for ages, towards the end. She told me once it made her feel better than any therapy she’d ever been offered.
‘I’m going in early today,’ I say.
‘To meet Lee?’
‘Not exactly. I’ve got an interview at his firm.’
The busyness stops almost as abruptly as it began. Dad takes the pan off the heat and turns to face me.
‘You never said anything.’
‘I only decided on Monday.’
Dad’s frown gathers momentum as it races across his forehead. ‘But I thought you were happy at the cinema?’
‘I am, sort of. But it makes it really difficult to see Lee when I’m working late shifts all the time.’
‘You’ll cope. People stayed together through world wars, you know. If he’s serious about you, it won’t be a problem.’
‘Yeah, well, there’s no war on and it is a problem for me.’
He shrugs and shakes his head. This is the part where Mum would have come in and smoothed things over between us and calmed everything down. I miss her even more at these moments.
‘So what’s the job?’ asks Dad, his voice straining to be reasonable.
‘A receptionist. It’s only maternity cover at the moment but Lee’s pretty sure the woman won’t come back afterwards.’
‘You’re going to give up your job for maternity cover?’
‘He says they’ll find me something else if she does come back.’
‘But you don’t know anything about PR.’
I shake my head. ‘Thanks for the confidence boost, Dad.’
‘I’m being honest, that’s all.’
I feel the mercury rising inside of me, pushing all the warm, fuzzy thoughts of Dad at my funeral out of the way.
‘Well, like I said, I’m going for an interview for a receptionist job. I greet people, make them c
offee and show them where to go. Which is kind of what I do at work, only I won’t have to smell like burgers all day and scoop up people’s half-eaten popcorn from the floor.’
Dad sighs and goes back to the poached egg on toast. Only this time there is a lot more clanking and scraping than before. When he does speak again, he still has his back to me.
‘What if it doesn’t work out with Lee?’
‘You really are trying to cheer me up this morning, aren’t you?’
‘I mean, if you guys split up, it could get messy. Do you really want him to be your boss as well?’
‘We won’t split up.’
‘You said that about Callum.’
‘This is different. I know.’
‘How can you know? You’ve only been going out with him a few weeks.’
He turns around to face me, the exasperation practically oozing out of his pores. I wish I could tell him why I’m so sure, but I can’t without telling him all the rest. Including the fact I’ve just read him describe how awful it is to bury your daughter.
‘Look, this is for keeps. You’ll just have to trust me on this.’
He manages a half-hearted smile, plonks the plates of egg on toast on the table and sits down opposite me. I am torn between throwing it in his face and going round to give him a hug. In the end, I simply say thank you and eat my breakfast.
*
When I come down later, after I’ve had a shower and got changed into my interview clothes, he does a double take as I walk into the kitchen.
‘God,’ he says. ‘Look at you.’
‘What’s wrong with me?’
‘Nothing,’ he replies. ‘You look so different, that’s all.’
‘You mean I normally look such a mess that it’s really obvious when I make an effort?’
He almost manages a smile. Almost but not quite. ‘I mean I hardly recognise you. You look like a receptionist.’
‘Bit of luck, being as I’m going for a job as one.’
He starts unloading the dishwasher. ‘Did Lee buy you all these clothes as well?’
‘No. I bought them myself. I’ll need this sort of stuff if I get the job.’
‘But you can’t afford them.’
‘It’ll be more money than I’m on now.’
‘And what about getting up in the mornings?’
I roll my eyes. ‘You’re doing everything you can to put me off this, aren’t you?’
‘I’m simply being realistic, Jess. I know how much you hate getting up early.’
‘I’ll manage, OK? Maybe some nights I can stay over at Lee’s.
There is a clatter as he drops a handful of cutlery. He turns around to face me again. ‘This is all going way too fast, Jess.’
‘Too fast for who? Because I’m enjoying the ride.’
‘And nought to sixty in nine seconds isn’t a sensible way to drive.’
‘What is this? The Top Gear parenting manual?’
Dad sighs and puts down the tea towel hanging over his arm. ‘This isn’t what you wanted, Jess. What about your dreams? All the amazing artwork you did at college?’
‘I grew up, Dad. I got real.’
‘And you got a boyfriend.’
I feel my eyes narrow as I look at him. ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
‘Don’t let him change you too much, Jess.’
‘He’s not changing me. I’m changing myself, OK?’
I head for the door.
‘Good luck, love,’ he calls after me. But my legs have carried me out of the door before I have the chance to reply.
*
The building where Lee works is old and a bit grotty from the outside, but as soon as you walk inside it’s all uber trendy with stylish displays of their PR campaigns and a squishy purple sofa in the corner of the reception. The woman behind the front desk looks up and smiles at me.
‘Hi,’ she says. ‘How can we help you?’
‘Hi. I’m Jess Mount,’ I reply. ‘I’m here for an interview.’
To her credit, the brightness of her smile doesn’t dim, even when she realises I am her possible replacement.
‘That’s great, do take a seat, Jess,’ she says, gesturing towards the sofa. ‘Can I get you a tea or coffee?’
I am already feeling inferior to her and I’ve only been here two minutes.
‘Er, coffee would be great, thanks. Milk, no sugar.’
I sit down on the sofa. It’s only when she steps out from behind the desk that I remember why I’m replacing her. The bump emerges several seconds before the rest of her. To be fair, it is a neat bump. I’ve seen women who look like they’re about to explode by the time they’re seven months pregnant. And she is still slim, apart from the bump. Pretty, too – dark brown, shoulder-length hair, nice make-up, long legs. I notice she’s wearing stilettos. She must be dead uncomfortable in them. It suddenly occurs to me that if I get this job I will presumably be working here when I am pregnant. Will they expect me to dress like that when I’m about to drop? I think I’ll probably want to come to work in my onesie at that stage. I bet I’ll have fat ankles too. Mum said she had fat ankles when she was pregnant with me. And her feet went up a size. She hoped they’d go back after she had me, but they didn’t, so she had to give all her size four shoes to Auntie Sarah.
The receptionist comes over with my coffee. I glance down at her ankles. They look fine to me.
‘Thanks,’ I say as she hands it to me. ‘Your feet must be killing you by the end of the day. I can’t walk in shoes like that and I’m not even pregnant.’
‘I know, it’s company policy. It’s not written down or anything, but I came in wearing flats one day and I got a look and a few comments.’
It must have been Carl. Lee would never do that.
My brain races forward and starts joining the dots in my future timeline. They will have to get someone to replace me when I go on maternity leave, just like they’ve done with her. People will probably make jokes about how you’ve only got to stand behind the front desk to get pregnant, or that there is something in the water. I will greet the young women who come here to be interviewed to be my replacement. All the time knowing that, unless I manage to change my fate, I will be dead in a few months.
I sip my coffee, trying to stop my hands from shaking. Another woman comes downstairs, followed by a tall, well-built man in a grey suit, who must be Carl. I see him shake her hand. She gives me a little smile as she walks past. I feel like a complete cow as I smile back. I am going out with one of the fucking bosses. She’s not going to get the job. She’s probably desperate for it. I hope she goes for it next time, when I’m being replaced. I won’t feel such a cow then because I’ll know it’s hers for keeps.
‘And you must be Jess,’ says the man in the grey suit. ‘Carl Walker. Pleased to meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you.’ He winks at me as he holds his hand out. I wonder what Lee has said about me. Whether he’s told him we’ve slept together. I hate the thought of Carl knowing stuff like that. I should never have agreed to this. I should be coming into work on the train with Sadie. I shouldn’t be trying to be someone I’m not. It’s too late to change my mind now, though. Lee would be disappointed with me if I backed out at this stage. It would make him look stupid. He’d have every right to dump me. I stand up.
‘Hi, pleased to meet you,’ I say, shaking his hand. He holds on to it a bit longer than seems acceptable.
‘Let’s get started then. After you.’ I swear I feel his eyes on my arse as I walk up the stairs. I’m conscious of how tight my skirt is, how see-through the blouse is at the back. I wish I knew how much men talk about personal stuff at work, whether Lee told Carl as much about our weekend as I told Sadie. I feel dirty. Like a prostitute who wants to get this over with as quickly as possible so she can go home and shower.
I paus
e on the landing at the top of the stairs and let Carl go past me, brushing against me as he does so. I’d like to think he didn’t do it on purpose, but I’m pretty sure he did.
‘Come in and have a seat,’ he says, holding open a door on the left. I go through into a large office with a big black swivel chair behind the desk. I sit on the chair in front of it and cross my legs, still quite surprised to see them on display instead of under leggings.
When I look up, Carl’s eyes are on them too.
‘Good to see you dressed for the part. We always like our front office staff to be well turned out, keeps the punters happy.’
He winks again and sits down heavily in his chair. I try to keep the fact that he is making me want to vomit from showing on my face.
‘Right, thanks for the CV,’ he says.
I did it yesterday with one of those templates you can get online, hoping the professional design made up for the lack of content – though I had embellished it slightly.
‘So, Jess, you work on reception at the cinema in the shopping centre.’
‘Yeah. I deal with internet and phone bookings and all the usual meeting and greeting. We’re only a small cinema so we can’t compete with the multiplexes on size, but we like to offer a personal, friendly service.’
I’d read one of those online articles too, about how to bullshit your way through interviews. It’s all about pressing the right buttons, apparently. From the look on Carl’s face it appears I’ve managed it.
‘Absolutely. It’s so important to a small company like ours that our clients and prospective clients are made to feel welcome from the second they arrive.’
‘Well, I’d make sure they were. I like to put people at ease, make them feel comfortable, so that by the time they get to you, they are already feeling positive about the company.’
Carl is smiling. And repeatedly glancing down at my boobs. I am going to get this job, whether I still want it or not. My future is rushing at me so fast I am in danger of being knocked off my feet. I can’t work out if I am giddy with excitement or if I am actually going to be sick.
