‘Ah, I wish I could offer it to you, Frank, but I’m looking for someone who can do some office work too, take phone messages, write them down, that kind of thing,’ he says with an apologetic shrug. Frank nods and shrugs back. Then he turns to rejoin the group on the other side of the bar.
‘Nice bloke but wants to fight the whole town with a drink inside him,’ Sean says in a low voice. Surprised by this aside, I watch Frank as he reseats himself unsteadily on a high bar stool.
I dab the corners of my mouth nervously with the twisted paper napkin. Right, now it’s my turn, I think, and take a deep breath, although I have no idea where or how to start. I put down the napkin and turn to Sean. Suddenly the woman I recognise as Evelyn, in her oversized anorak zipped up to her neck, marches quickly over and stands in front of Sean.
‘I understand you’re looking for someone up at the farm. I’m available,’ she says curtly. My heart sinks. Sean looks thoughtful, even a little amused.
‘Evelyn, you and John Joe have your own farm to worry about.’ He tucks his reading glasses into his top pocket. ‘This isn’t for you,’ he says, picking up a drinks mat and turning it over in his hands.
‘Well, that’s as may be, but the extra money wouldn’t go amiss,’ says Evelyn with a conciliatory sniff.
‘’Fraid it’s more board and lodgings and pocket money,’ he says with another apologetic shrug. Evelyn gives him a sharp nod and walks back quickly to her group. Now it’s my turn. It has to be. I take another deep breath and go to stand when suddenly the barmaid appears with a pint of Guinness and puts it down in front of Sean. Don’t tell me she’s after the job as well, I think, flopping back down.
‘Thought you looked as if you could do with this,’ she says flirtatiously.
‘Ah, Margaret, you’re very good,’ he smiles, accepting the pint.
‘My horoscope said that an act of kindness would reap its rewards today.’ She pulls out a damp cloth from her pocket and starts wiping his table. I get the impression she’s keeping one eye on Sean and another on me.
‘At least someone round here doesn’t think I’m bad through and through,’ he says, lifting the glass with its creamy top to his lips.
‘They do not think that. Didn’t three of them come and ask about the job?’ She wipes down my table and scoops up my plate and bowl. ‘Are you finished with that?’ She looks miffed at the untouched sandwich.
‘Yes, sorry.’
She turns her back on me and her attention onto Sean.
‘That’s only because they want to find out why I need an assistant,’ Sean says, finally sipping the pint. It leaves creamy foam on his top lip that he sucks off.
‘You’re obviously looking for something quite specific …’ and she sounds like she’s fishing too. Either that or she’s trying to put me off – which, in fact, she does.
I don’t know what I’m doing here. It’s a mad idea. I mean, what do I know about farming? He’s turned down three applicants already. Why put myself through even more humiliation? I’ll have to think of something else. I stand up to leave, pick up my small carrier bag of belongings, pull down the disintegrating hem of my dress, lift my chin a little and make for the door.
‘Hey!’ He stops me in my tracks. ‘I thought you’dcome about the job?’
Not wanting to be made any more of a spectacle, I turn back.
‘I just don’t think …’
‘Sit yourself down. We won’t know until we’ve talked,’ he says. My shoulders slump as I turn and sit on the little stool in front of him.
‘Would you like something to drink?’ he asks, gesturing to the barmaid.
‘Could I possibly have a glass of tap water?’ It might help my dry throat and the twisting, sick feeling in my stomach.
‘Sure.’ He looks up and catches the barmaid’s eye. The barmaid gives me a look so icy it could freeze the sea and then goes back behind the bar.
‘So, tell me, what’s your name?’ He slides his glasses back on and looks at me over them, making me feel like the new girl in school all over again, and, God knows, there’d been a lot of new schools.
‘Fi—’ I suddenly stop without finishing my full name. The last thing I need is for anyone to come looking for me. I don’t want anyone to know who I am, just in case. And the best way I can do that is to change my name. I learnt very early on, when starting another new school, that the only way to get on was to keep your head down and become invisible. And that’s what I need to do right now; I need to become invisible … again.
‘Fi?’ He looks up from writing it down. I can’t think of a surname, my mind’s gone blank.
‘Hm, just Fi,’ I nod, hoping I’ve carried it off.
‘Surname?’ he asks.
I’m stumped. ‘Er …’
