A late morning sun finally broke through some grey clouds as he walked and, feeling warmer, he removed his suit jacket. By the time he finally arrived at Wisteria House, he was almost in a good mood. That was before an old lady came hurtling out of the front door and he knocked her off her feet, and into the bush in the front garden. Shit. Bugger.
‘Are you okay?’ he asked the silver-haired lady in the red jacket.
‘What? Oh, I’m fine, dear, don’t worry.’ She leapt up with a youthfulness that belied her age and smiled at him as she brushed herself down. She was tall and elegant looking with a ready smile, and a slash of red lipstick that matched her blazer. An attractive lady, who was the type that stood out in a crowd despite her age.
‘Are you sure?’ asked Declan, a little uncertainly.
‘Oh fine.’ She waved her hand. ‘Do you live here, then?’ she asked him.
‘Yes, first floor.’ He nodded upwards.
Now he knew she was okay he just wanted to get inside, take his tie off and grab a beer from the fridge. As well as peruse thejob vacancies once more. At least he still had a job, even though it was less than exciting these days. He was still surprised by the rudeness of the guy at the interview but was determined not to dwell on it.
‘I see. Oh, where are my manners,’ said the elegant lady. ‘I am Alice. I moved into the garden flat last week.’
‘Declan.’ He shook the hand she had extended.
‘Nice to meet you, Declan. And may I say, you look very smart. Have you been somewhere nice?’ she asked him brightly.
Bloody hell, was he ever going to get inside?
‘A job interview. I don’t think it went too well, though,’ he said, which was most definitely an understatement, with a shrug.
‘Oh dear. Would you like to have a drink and tell me about it?’ she asked.
‘I thought you were on your way out?’ He frowned. He wasn’t in the habit of making small talk and drinking tea with the neighbours.
‘That can wait. It is far more important to get to know my new neighbours, I think. Come on.’
She gestured for him to go inside, and, to Declan’s surprise, he found himself following Alice into her ground-floor flat.
He glanced around the neat as a pin lounge, the tastefully furnished room dominated by a large brown leather sofa with velvet embossed cushions. The wooden dining table and chairs at the far end of the room looked expensive. Mahogany maybe? As Alice disappeared into the kitchen, he expected to hear a kettle boiling, but to his surprise, she returned with a bottle of single malt and two tumblers with ice.
‘I will join you. It’s no fun drinking alone.’ She winked.
As Declan sipped his smooth as silk malt – the lady certainly had taste – he found himself telling her all about his disastrous job interview.
‘Oh dear. What a dreadful man.’ She shook her head. ‘I’m afraid the world is full of them these days.’
‘You’re not wrong there,’ agreed Declan. He had met enough of them.
‘What was the role?’ she asked good-naturedly.
‘An accountant post at Jarvis and Green,’ he told her.
‘Ah, so you’re an accountant? Interesting.’
‘Not that interesting at times, although I do enjoy it, and I’m bloody good at it,’ he stated proudly.
He apologised then for swearing, feeling a bit like he was sitting in front of his gran.
Declan would never forget the pride he felt when he passed his exams and was tempted to take his certificates to his old school and wave them in front of his teacher, who had told him he would never amount to anything. Apparently, the old codger was still teaching there, counting down the days to his retirement, no doubt still churning out the same old lessons in the jaded tone he had all those years ago.
It was a terrible school. No wonder the kids played up. They were tolerated rather than nurtured at the school on the wrong side of town, the pupils bored and unchallenged. In a way, though, his teacher’s remark had spurred him on to prove him wrong. Okay, he had to do a bit of growing up first and attend a night school to get some qualifications, but against all the odds he did it.
‘So, if you’re so good at what you do,’ said Alice, ‘why don’t you work for yourself? Then you wouldn’t have to endure any more humiliating interviews, although you would be unlucky to encounter another man as rude as that.’ She shook her head.
‘Set up by myself?’
