‘Very simple as a matter of fact,’ said Jake smoothly taking over from her. ‘I’m renting an apartment belonging to Eloise’s sister.’
With that, she shot him a thank you look of deepest gratitude.
‘I see,’ Ruth nodded, sounding unconvinced. ‘And how long have you known …?’
‘You know, much as I’d love to stay here and natter for the rest of the afternoon,’ Eloise interrupted her briskly, sounding a bit more like herself now, ‘we’ve got a news conference in exactly ten minutes Ruth. You haven’t forgotten? Come on, better get going.’
‘Oh, right then,’ said Ruth, a bit wrongfooted.
‘Nice to meet you,’ Jake nodded casually at her.
‘We’ll be seeing lots more of you in future, I’m sure,’ was Ruth’s parting shot, accompanied by one last incredulous glance back at him.
He grinned his wide, happy grin, kissed Eloise lightly on the cheek, told her that he’d chat to her soon, and like that, was gone.
Eloise insisted on rehearsing, prepping and grooming him over and over again for the interview like they were training him for an Olympic hundred metres, and not just a half-hour chat in a language school on Camden St. Ever meticulous, the night before the interview she even called round to Jake’s flat late one night after work, so she could role play the part of the interviewer and really put him through his paces this last and final time.
‘Right then, so tell me what first made you want to teach English as a foreign language?’ she asked, sitting opposite Jake at the tiny kitchen table, legs crossed, hands neatly on her lap, interrogation style.
‘Funny you asked me that,’ he replied lazily, legs stretched out, yawning. He’d been studying for his looming exams since early morning, his head was melted and frankly the last thing he was in the mood for was yet another game of interview charades with Eloise.
Didn’t she ever give up? Or even, God forbid, clock off early from work? Ever?
‘Come on Jake, answer me.’
‘Ah well you see, I was doing a two-year stretch in Wheatfield and figured that doing a TEFL course would be a far jammier way of passing the time than working in the prison laundry, washing manky, cack-stained underpants.’
In one lightning, quick gesture, Eloise immediately whipped her briefcase up off the floor and stood up to go.
‘If you’re not going to take this seriously, then neither am I,’ she all but snapped. ‘Are you aware that interview coaches out there charge up to two hundred and fifty euro an hour for this? And here I am, wrecked after yet another endless day and you seem to think I’m doing all of this for the good of my health? Honest to God, sometimes I wonder why I even bother putting myself through all this for you, if you’re not even prepared to make an effort …’
‘Sit down for feck’s sake, will you relax?’ he said, arms folded, blue eyes teasing her. ‘I was only messing. Come on, you’ve had a long day, can’t we just chat normally like people do, instead of working the whole shagging time?’
‘Now that’s another thing I’ve been meaning to say to you. Your language. Talk like that in the interview and you’ll be out the door so fast …’
‘Eloise, will you calm down? You think I don’t know all that? You think I’m going to go in there and tell them I’m looking forward to teaching Spanish students how to say feck off and call each other gobshites, so they can really blend in on the streets of Dublin? Just chill out for two seconds, will you? Everything’s going to be fine. I haven’t come this far to let you down now. Now come on, it’s half ten at night,’ he continued smoothly. ‘You’ve had a killer of a day by the look of you and so have I. Just have a glass of wine and relax. The interview will be fine; sure I’m prepared upside down, inside out and sideways. I’ll end up grilling the interviewer and not the other way around, you have me so primed for it.’
‘Need I remind you the interview is tomorrow morning,’ she answered curtly in her best don’t-even-think-about-contradicting-me tone of voice. ‘After that, you can relax and chat all you like, but don’t think you’re getting off any hooks for tonight.’
Jake did a fake Nazi salute at her and just shrugged when she glared furiously back at him. By now he’d learned that whenever she got up on her high horse like this, the best thing you could do was tease her out of it. Laughing at her seemed to make her see how loony she was acting, far more so than taking up the cudgels with her.
‘Jake,’ she turned to ask him wearily, red behind the eyes by now. ‘Have you any idea what it’s like out there at the job-hunting coalface? I know you’ve been out of circulation for the past two years, but let me tell you something. We’re in the throes of the worst economic slump since the Great Depression, there are virtually NO JOBS and you’re going in there tomorrow up against the crème de la crème; candidates with diplomas and MBSs and masters degrees hanging out of their earlobes. And another thing, none of them will have, let’s just say, the inkblot on their past that you’re dealing with. So you take this seriously or else I’m out of here, I’m not coming back and you can go back to driving taxis, or working in an all-night garage, or wherever your ambition takes you. And you can spend your spare time daydreaming about getting a degree and having a better life, but that’s all it’ll ever amount to. Tuppenny-ha’penny daydreaming. And by the way, don’t think my walking out of here is an idle threat on my part either, because, I don’t make idle threats. My head is splitting and I no more want to run through interview questions than you do, but you’re going to and so am I.’
‘Okay, okay, you’ve made your point,’ he said softly, arms in an ‘I surrender’ gesture. ‘Right then, I’ll run through the whole shagging thing if that’ll make you happy, yet again …’
‘What did I tell you about your LANGUAGE!’
‘For the thousandth time, if you’ll just have a glass of wine and chill out a bit first,’ he brokered gently.
By now Jake understood this driven side of her character, the ruthless, stop-at-nothing side. He knew just where she was coming from and could see that she only had his own best interests at heart. It still didn’t mean he liked it particularly, but at least she did what he asked and sat back down again with an exasperated sigh. He took that as his cue to go to the fridge and pour her out a glass of that fancy white wine she drank.
‘Out of curiosity,’ he asked, passing the glass over to her and watching her take a big, nerve-calming gulp, ‘do you ever, just once, switch off?’
‘What are you talking about?’ she asked him, genuinely puzzled by the question.
‘The fact that it’s late at night, you’ve probably been at your desk since first light and yet here you are, still on the go, go, go, still not clocked off for the night. We’ve already worked so hard to get me ready for tomorrow but, here’s the thing. From here on in you just need to trust me. It’s okay to surrender control every now and then Eloise. Now can’t you for once just unwind for five minutes and tell me about your day?’
She gave him a tiny half-smile. But then, apart from Helen, who was usually sound asleep by the time she crawled in late from work, Jake was the only person who ever asked her about how she was feeling and coping and about the ten thousand minor skirmishes that made up a typical day at the Post. These days he was fast becoming the one person she could really open up to, someone who never judged her or automatically expected her to be on top of things, always. He just listened and let her talk her problems away.
‘You really sure you want to hear this?’ She sighed deeply.
‘Yes,’ he said looking at her thoughtfully and sitting down opposite her, ‘as a matter of fact I do.’
‘Oh God,’ she sighed almost painfully, slumping forward and covering her head with her long, thin, white fingers. ‘Where do I start?’
At it turned out in retrospect, there was absolutely no need whatsoever for her to stress and fret about Jake’s big interview. Because the interview hadn’t just gone well – it had gone swimmingly. Far, far better than he hims
elf ever would have thought. His past hadn’t come up at all, but taking Eloise’s advice, he’d raised the subject himself and told his interviewer everything, honestly and openly. Made it clear that he’d made one stupid mistake and paid the highest price imaginable, but now the past was firmly behind him and he wanted nothing more than a chance at a better life. He produced a wad of glowing references; everyone from Eloise herself to the prison governor, backing up exactly what he’d said. He talked about his commitment and passion for learning, and how he wanted nothing more than to be able to pass that on.
And somehow, a miracle happened, and his interviewer had seen what everyone else so clearly could; potential. The guy had taken a chance on him, purely on a trial basis of course, but that was all Jake asked for; one single shot.
No sooner was he back out on the street again, still reeling from how well it had all gone, than he fished out his phone to call Eloise.
‘Well?’ she hissed, voice low.
‘Disaster,’ he said, teasing her a bit.
‘What happened?’
‘They quizzed me inside out and upside down about the glaring gap on my CV for the past two years …’
‘WHAT?’
‘You should have been there, these guys were like worse than anything you’d see on C.S.I. Real interrogative pros, shone a light in my eyes and everything. Kept repeating key phrases over and over, like all those field operatives are trained to do …’
‘Jake, if you’re messing with me …’
‘Tell us your secret, they kept saying …’
‘If this is your idea of a joke …’
‘… You’re an ex-con, aren’t you? So what were you in for anyway? Mugging little old ladies? Armed robbery? Burglary? Arson? Worse?’
‘Jake …’
‘… So I cracked under questioning, confessed all, and, long story short, they called security, flung me out of there, tore up my TEFL cert and told me if I ever showed my face in any language school ever again, they’d make sure I’d get put away for another two years.’
‘JAKE!’ she hissed, really getting alarmed now. ‘Please tell me you’re kidding?’
‘Course I am, you eejit. It went so well that they guy interviewing me asked me if I’d mind hanging on a bit so I could meet the school principal, who took one look at my grades, told me they were a bit short staffed for the summer months and basically asked me when I could start. Just a few hours a week at first, is all they could promise me, but am I complaining? Are you kidding me?’
Without even knowing she was doing it, Eloise let out a whoop of pure joy, causing Rachel, who’d been having a discreet earwig nearby, to nearly spill an Americano all over her keyboard.
‘So I just have one question for you, Missy,’ Jake asked down the phone.
‘What?’
‘Where do you want me to take you tonight to celebrate?’
Jake had bought her a bouquet of flowers for starters, to really start the night off in style. Lilies. For some reason, he’d remember her saying something about loving lilies and that single word – lily – had lodged in his mind. So earlier, he’d gone to a local florist and gone the whole hog, splashing out on the biggest bunch they had in the shop. And when he presented them to her, she actually blushed, like it had been years since anyone had spontaneously bought her flowers. Made her look so pretty and young and vulnerable, he thought, suddenly getting an impulse to hug her, but afraid she’d misinterpret it.
After all, ostensibly, the only reason she was even in his life in the first place was because of the feature piece she’d claimed she was about to run in the Post. Jake had tried raising it with her a few times lately, but all she’d do would be to swat his concerns away, saying that, for the moment at least, his job interview should be their sole focus. The feature, she’d crisply told him, could be shelved until he’d become an upstanding, tax-paying member of the community again. Will even make for better reading, she’d added. Because after all, who didn’t love a happy ending?
‘Oh … They’re absolutely beautiful,’ Eloise said, sounding utterly shocked as she played with the ribbon tied around the cellophane-wrapped bouquet and burying her face deep into the lilies, breathing in their gorgeous sweet smell.
‘You deserve them. You should be given flowers more often. And while we’re on the subject, you should be chloroformed, physically dragged out of that shagging office and taken out to dinner more often.’
‘Me? Ha! That’s a laugh.’
‘Why not?’
‘Oh, let’s not even go there.’
‘I don’t get the kind of fellas you must hang around with, I really don’t,’ he said, shaking his head as he pulled on his jacket and got ready to leave his flat.
‘You’re a lovely, gorgeous person, intelligent and successful too. Any guy should be proud to have you on his arm, only delighted to take you out on a Friday night.’
She looked up at him, deeply touched.
‘I mean that, by the way,’ he said, simply.
‘I know you do,’ she said, an inconvenient lump suddenly appearing in her throat. ‘And thank you. After the day I had, I needed … Well, let’s just say I needed a bit of kindness.’
‘So come on then, what are we waiting for? I said I’d take you out to spoil you rotten tonight and that’s exactly what I’m going to do.’
He knew exactly where too. He’d walked past Raoul’s, a gorgeous local French restaurant, nearly every day for the past few weeks and made an inner vow to himself; if he got the job, he’d treat Eloise to a celebration dinner there as a way of thanking her.
As usual, he could practically see the tension beginning to roll off Eloise after a few gulpfuls of wine. She’d begun to open up to him more and more, he’d noticed, every time they talked now. Told him more about Seth Coleman and his latest shenanigans and how he was insidiously going out of his way to get rid of her once and for all.
But there was something else too, something she’d skirted around before but never really got to the marrow of. Eloise knew only too well, she confided in him, how unpopular she was in work and all the horrible nicknames her colleagues had given her behind her back. No one really liked her and they never had. Not even the few, the very few who, even if she didn’t count them as actual friends, were at least allies. If it came to a heave against her in favour of Seth, she stressed, and he swore he could hear the agony in her voice as she articulated the terrifying thought out loud; then who in their right minds would possibly choose her?
‘But you’ve been there for years,’ he counselled gently. ‘Why is it that you feel so friendless? Tell me, because I honestly don’t get it. The Eloise I know is nothing like the woman you describe.’
She took another sip of wine and gazed distractedly down at her napkin.
‘Been like that all my whole life,’ she eventually confessed and her honesty touched him more than he could say.
‘Seriously?’
‘Not a word of a lie. So you can’t really miss what you never had, can you?’ she added, musing aloud. ‘I’ll tell you this though, if I had my time over, I’d do things differently. Maybe not try to drive everyone around me in the office as hard as I do, maybe be a bit more human around co-workers, a little more lenient and understanding. Because it’s bloody hard going in there day after day, trying to keep the show on the road and in return just being practically hate-vibed out of it, by people whose jobs I’m only trying to protect.’
‘How do you mean?’ he asked, listening intently.
Another deep-soul searching sigh from her.
‘Well … it’s like this. If people need a bit of time off, I tend to just jump down their throats and remind them that if they can’t hack the job, there’s scores behind them who could and who are only gagging to be given the chance. My catchphrase in work, is that I never ask anyone to do anything I’m not doing myself. And it’s true, I don’t. But instead of respecting me for driving myself and all around me so hard, they all seem to hate a
nd despise me for it. No matter what I do. But if I don’t, we won’t reach our targets, and then even more people’s jobs are on the line. So there you go; catch twenty-two. Damned if I do and damned if I don’t. No matter what I do, they’ll still all hate me.’
She didn’t even tell him the worst of it; that was something to be kept locked deep into a secret file marked ‘humiliation’, never to be discussed. The dozens of petty slights she suffered on a daily basis; the way other women instantly stopped talking and left the room whenever she went into the ladies, how on the rare occasions when she would go into the staff canteen, anyone around her would instantly shuffle guiltily back to their desks, like she even begrudged them meal breaks. Hearing about all the birthday parties and weddings and nights out that she was never asked along to.
Not that she’d even have had the time to go, but sometimes she thought it would just be nice to be asked, that was all.
‘Never too late to change,’ he told her softly, instinctively reaching across the table to squeeze her hand. It felt right though and she didn’t pull away.
‘Never too late to go a bit easier on everyone around you, maybe even cut them a bit of slack every now and then,’ he added. ‘So maybe try being a bit more tolerant and social with people, give them the time of day a bit more. Go on, give it a chance,’ he suggested, looking at her keenly. ‘You might well be astonished at the turnaround. Remember the people around you are the greatest asset you have.’
He didn’t think it appropriate to bring it up, but he remembered all too clearly overhearing the brusque, almost dismissive way she’d spoken to her culture editor on the phone that day while he was at the barber’s a while back and knew how very little it would take on her part to tone it down a notch. Be less attritional, not be quite so demanding on all around her.
And she could do it, he knew she could. There was a soft, caring heart in there, just waiting to get out; he could see it, even if no one else could. She nodded gratefully as their starter arrived and Jake sensed she wanted to get off the subject, so, ever the gentleman, he obliged.
A Very Accidental Love Story Page 17
