by Natasha West
‘Wow!’ Gillian cried out suddenly. ‘It’s working. It’s finding the phone! Thank fuck I didn’t close my account. Actually, I wouldn’t even know how, so I guess that’s a stroke of luck. I’ve never been good with technology…’
Gillian continued to burble about her fear of technology as Tilda peered sharply over her shoulder and Chris did the same. They watched the arrow zooming into the map, which magnified every few passing seconds. Soon, it began to zoom in closer and street names became visible, familiar ones. The phone was in the area.
And then it stopped.
Tilda and Chris couldn’t believe it; they were looking at the street where the phone was right now. And it was one they knew all too well.
‘You cool to drive there, Dad?’
Chris sighed. ‘I suppose.’
Twelve
Sam and Imogen walked down the suburban street, keeping an eye out for the number that Jimmy had given them.
‘Jack’s gonna go loopy’ Sam was muttering nervously. Lunch break had finished half an hour ago.
‘Jack can kiss my arse’ Imogen retorted. ‘He works you like a dog. You’re always doing unpaid overtime.’
‘He doesn’t ask me to do it. Sometimes we just get a bit snowed under and…’
Imogen’s gaze fell away from Sam, to a house up the street.
‘That’s it. That’s where she lives. The infamous Tilda Banks.’
Sam turned, feeling a fear blossom in her stomach. She pictured herself knocking on the door and suddenly, she realised how crazy this was going to look. Turning up at someone’s house because they pecked you on the lips for all of two seconds. Tilda would think she was mad. She’d probably get a restraining order out on her.
‘Imogen… Maybe this isn’t such a, such a great idea.’
Imogen turned, eyes wide in fury.
‘What!?’
‘Yeah. I think we should just go back to the office. I really need to deal with the cereal people-’
‘What are you talking about? We’ve tracked this woman across the city because you wanted to see her again. And we found her. We actually found her!’
‘Yeah, but I’m starting to think about this from Tilda’s point of view and quite frankly, I think I’ve been acting like a grade A lunatic. It was mistletoe, for Christ’s sakes. It’s not supposed to mean anything.’
Imogen put her hands on her hips. She didn’t speak for a few seconds.
‘OK, I actually do sort of see your point. But you know we can’t stop now, don’t you? We’re far too close. And you don’t have to propose to her or anything. You can just say you ended up with her phone and you wanted to return it. Nothing crazy about that, is there?’
Sam thought about it. Maybe that was a pretty reasonable cover story? She exhaled slowly and said ‘OK. Fuck it.’
‘That’s the spirit!’ Imogen grabbed her arm and dragged her down the street, toward the house. She wasn’t going to give Sam another chance to wimp out.
‘Dad, can’t this thing go any faster?’ Tilda demanded of Chris, trying not to sound too desperate. But time was of the essence. And her Dad wasn’t exactly Lewis Hamilton. ‘We were just overtaken by a motorised wheelchair!’
‘It’s a built up area, Tilda. Do you see that sign? Children crossing!’
‘The kids aren’t at school now. It’s the Christmas bloody holidays!’
‘Don’t hurry me, Tilda. Your mum was like that, always trying to get me to go faster than I wanted to. Well, I’m not going to risk my life. Or yours. Or any children that want to cross the road, even if school is out. We’ll get there, don’t worry.’
Tilda crossed her arms and kept her mouth shut. But inside, she was livid. They were so close. And her Dad was too scared to go above twenty-five. It was typical of him.
‘You knock!’
‘No, you! It’s your thing.’
Sam knew it was silly for two women in their late twenties to be standing on the doorstep of her crush and arguing over who was going to knock on the door, but there it was. That was the person the day had made of her. ‘Fine!’ Sam said, attempting to scrape up some poise. But it wasn’t exactly a dignified situation to find yourself caught up in. Poise was a distant dream.
Sam tapped lightly at the door and waited, her heart beating in her mouth as the seconds ticked away.
And then the door opened.
‘Hello?’ said a woman in her sixties. She was blonde with sparkly blue eyes and a slightly too-dark spray tan. One look at her and it was obvious that this was Tilda’s Mum.
‘Hi… My name’s Sam. I’m… I’m looking for Tilda.’
The woman looked confused.
‘She’s not here. She’s staying with her Dad. What do you want her for, anyway?’
Sam felt her heart sink back down out of her mouth, feeling like it was falling straight out of her arse. She’d been revving herself up to meet Tilda. But again, she was not here. And now she was going to have to explain herself.
‘I’m a friend of hers. Well, not a friend as such. We sort of met at the bar where she works. Actually, she got sacked…’ Sam trailed off. She’d been unprepared for this conversation and it wasn’t going well. She decided to start again. ‘The thing is…’
‘Sacked! Not again! That girl, I swear to god! Does she owe you money or something? Because I’m not going to foot the bill, if that’s what you’re thinking.’
Sam shook her head. ‘No, no, you’ve got it wrong-’
‘That’s exactly the reason she’s with her Dad. I’m not going to let her leech off me anymore. No chance. I’ve got my own life. I’m still in my prime!’
Sam took a step back. She felt like she’d accidently put her foot on a landmine. Any wrong movements could only blow it all up. ‘No, Mrs Banks…’
‘I am not Mrs Banks, thank you very much. I’m a divorcee and a very happy one. It’s Jane. Ms Butts to you!’
Imogen, who’d been standing back in amazement as this woman went off on Sam, felt this was the perfect time to speak up. ‘Oh, dear me. I think you probably should have stuck with your married name.’
Ms Butts turned to Imogen. ‘How dare you. The Butts’ name goes back centuries.’
‘Were any of them called Seymour, by any chance?’ Imogen asked with the mildest smirk.
The woman’s eyes narrowed. ‘Do you think I’ve never heard that one? I’m not stupid, you know. What the hell is this?’ the woman cried out. ‘Who are you two to come to my home and insult me? I ought to call the police!’
That felt like Sam’s cue to scarper.
‘I’m sorry, Ms Butts. We’ll catch up with Tilda another time’ she cried, pulling Imogen by the hand and down the street.
But Imogen couldn’t help herself, calling over her shoulder ‘Yeah! Didn’t mean to make you the Butt of my joke!’
‘GET THE HELL OUT OF HERE!’ Ms Butts screamed.
Sam kept walking and Imogen hurried to catch up, laughing breathlessly. ‘Sam! Wait up! I’m sorry! I just love puns!’
But Sam kept walking. She pulled the phone out of her pocket as she did, switching it off.
This had officially gotten way out of hand. It was time to give up on Tilda.
Jane watched the two rude woman run up the street and vanish into the distance. A hand came down on her shoulder and she turned to her boyfriend, Ash.
‘What was all that about?’ Ash asked her.
‘Is this what society is now? People knocking on your door and taking the piss out of your name?’
Ash didn’t know what she was talking about. Before he could ask, a car pulled down the road and Jane’s daughter jumped out, followed by her ex-husband. Ash turned sharply and went back into the house. He had some things to do anyway. That sock wasn’t going to darn itself.
Tilda wandered up the street, looking around wildly. The phone had been right here. She didn’t understand how Sam could have ended up near her Mum’s but she’d seen the little blip on the screen with her own eyes. W
as it some crazy coincidence?
Jane watched her daughter approach, she was exactly the person she wanted to see right now. Those women had been mixed up with Tilda somehow and therefore it was Tilda’s fault that they’d come to her home and upset her. And she had some questions about them. But first thing was first.
‘Tilda!’
Tilda glanced over. Her Mum was standing on her doorstep. Weird. But she supposed she could ask if she’d seen-
‘I hear you’ve gotten the sack?!’ her mother shouted, for all the street to hear.
Tilda froze.
‘How did you hear that?’
She glanced back at her Dad, who was staying near the car, but he shrugged. Tilda realised quickly there was no chance he’d spilled the beans. Her parents didn’t speak.
In fact, Tilda realised, it might not feel so great for him to be standing in front of his ex-wife and her current boyfriend’s house. But they were here now.
‘Never you mind how I know’ Jane spat back. She’d get to all that in a second. First was the job thing. ‘When are you going to grow up and stop messing about!
Even though Tilda had come here on Sam’s trail, it all went out of the window as her Mum’s attack began. She walked up the path, to within inches of her Mother’s angry little face.
‘Me grow up!? I’m not the one that left my husband for a man who doesn’t believe in deodorant!’
‘Don’t you dare talk about Ash like that! At least he’s not boring!’ she shot back, looking over Tilda’s shoulder at Chris.
Chris, who hadn’t wanted to come here in the first place, felt the stab in his heart. Why, of all the places in the world, had the little dot on the screen lead them here?
But Tilda wasn’t letting that slide. If her Dad wouldn’t speak up for himself, then she would. ‘Not boring? I’ve have actually talked to Ash, you know. He spent ten minutes telling me about the best way to grow carrots.’
Tilda fully expected her mother to go nuclear at that but instead, Jane took a deep breath, closed her eyes and began to chant to herself. ‘Nam Myoho Renge Kyo, Nam Myoho Renge Kyo, Nam Myoho Renge Kyo…’
‘Mum, is this a stroke?’
Jane’s eyes flew open. ‘No, I’m a Buddhist now and I’m doing my mantra so you can’t upset me.’
Tilda gaped at her mother for a moment. ‘You? A Buddhist?’
‘Yes. I’m walking a more spiritual path now that I don’t have you and your Dad to contend with.’
‘Yeah, sure. Oh, by the way, did I tell you I’m a chicken now? Free range, you’ll be glad to hear.’
Jane’s mouth puckered. ‘If you’ve finished being a sarcastic little bitch, you can leave now.’
‘Very Buddhist of you. Don’t worry, we’re out of here.’
Tilda stomped back off down the path. Only then did Jane remember about Sam. ‘Oh well’ she thought. ‘I’ll save that one for next time.’
Chris took Tilda’s march toward him as a cue to jump gratefully back into the safety of his car. Tilda climbed into the passenger seat. As she pulled the belt over herself, not looking at her Dad, she heard a beep from his phone, sitting on the dashboard.
‘Check that would you? I want to get going’ Chris said softly as he turned the engine over.
Tilda picked up the phone and read the new text message. ‘It’s from Gillian.’ They’d given her Chris’s number so that she could update them. ‘She says the dot disappeared.’
Chris pulled the car out, not saying anything. A few minutes later, he finally spoke. ‘Does this mean we’re finished with all this nonsense?’
Tilda, looking out of the window, sighed. ‘Yeah. Guess so.’
Thirteen
Christmas Eve
The clock on the wall ticked forward. Edging unrelentingly toward two.
Sam watched the second hand judder around the clock hanging in the reception of head office. It was nicer than her building, with a lot more touches to the decor to make it comfy. Potted plants, soft lighting, a coffee machine. So this is how the other half live.
She wouldn’t be moving here if she got the job, of course. The new job would be in the same building Sam worked in now, just on a different floor. One up. Which pretty much summed the new job up. It was the next level in the company. But still not here. They couldn’t have the riffraff mixing with the big boys, Sam supposed. Or what was the point in having one of the top jobs?
Sam’s mind turned to the debacle yesterday. Imogen had been apologetic about her behaviour with Tilda’s Mum. Sam had been pissed off with her initially. But after Imogen had made her six apologetic cups of tea during the course of the work afternoon, Sam had to admit that the situation hadn’t really been going well even before Imogen’s descent into puns.
And once Sam had accepted that, she knew she’d made the right decision in putting all this Tilda nonsense behind her. She’d tried to force it and it wouldn’t happen. And that was that.
She’d picked up the phone and closed the deal with the cereal people that afternoon.
‘Miss Henry?’ The receptionist said, jolting Sam. ‘They’re ready for you now.’
Sam walked into the room and saw a table at one end, with three people seated behind it. The panel. There was Jeffrey, who was head of information, the department that Sam was hoping to move to. A woman from HR named Judy. And of course, Lara. She looked as smug as ever.
Sam was amazed in the transformation in her feelings. Looking at her last week had been heart-breaking. But now, Sam felt like she could see right past her outer beauty and see her for exactly what she was. Because Lara was ugly inside.
After Sam had done introductions with the two people she didn’t know, she exchanged a polite nod with Lara and sat down in the chair set out for her. There was water and a glass left on a table next to her chair. Sam was glad to see it. She was suffering from serious dry mouth.
‘Well, Samantha’ Jeffrey started. ‘We’re glad to finally meet you at last. We’ve heard a lot about you.’
‘Oh? Good things, I hope.’
‘Very good things’ Jeffrey replied with a grin.
Sam understood what he was really saying. He was letting her know this interview was a formality. She was at the front of the pack. All she had to do now was tick the boxes with her answers and the job was hers. Jack had been right.
Sam found that the nerves that had beset her in the reception were weakening their hold. An odd sense of calm washed over her as she waited for the interview to begin properly.
Then Lara spoke. ‘Yes. Your current boss thinks quite highly of you.’
Sam knew immediately what Lara was trying to do. She was undermining her. She actually wanted her to be nervous. Even if she knew this job was Sam’s, she couldn’t help herself. Lara had to establish dominance. It was who she was. No wonder she kept sleeping with her subordinates, Sam realised. She could probably only get comfortable when she was ‘above’ someone.
But Sam decided that no matter what, Lara wouldn’t get the satisfaction of seeing her sweat. Not today.
‘I think what we’d like first is to have you talk a little bit about your time at the company’ Lara continued. ‘Obviously we know each other, as you used to be under me…’
Sam didn’t react to that.
‘…But it would be great for us all to hear it in your own words. Tell us about your journey.’
That word, journey, it flicked a strange switch in Sam. It threw Tilda to the front of her mind. A stranger ostensibly, but Sam had learned a few things about her. Tilda was a person who had ventured all over the globe, on a real journey. It wasn’t what Lara had meant by the word and that made her usage of it seem all the sillier.
The last two days could count as a journey though, Sam knew. She’d run all over the place, looking for something. Was it Tilda? Or was it something else? Because that was the point of a journey. To get somewhere. And where was Sam going right now? Was it really up? Or was it simply sideways?
Sam picked up
the glass of water next to her and everyone watched with great interest as she took a deep, long sip. Once she felt fully quenched, she put the glass down very carefully and looked at the panel. She smiled as she began her answer.
‘Well, I started at Pound Saver six years ago. I’d been through a few jobs and I guess I was looking for some stability. I just wanted to stay put. And this company felt like the place to do that.’
