“Do you have the winning application on hand?” I suggested. “We could just check which of ours it is?”
Rosie went still. Then she started fanning herself more rigorously.
“Just let me think for a moment,” she said. She pressed a hand to her forehead.
“OK. OK. Two Charlie Joneses. Both want to come and live here. Both offered the job, apparently…”
I reiterated that finding the successful job application would almost certainly clear this whole thing up.
“Right,” Rosie said, and then, “well, no, I can’t do that. I…binned them all. Sorry. Burned them, actually—Marly does this thing where she stuffs spare paper into old loo rolls and it makes great firelighters. No. That won’t work. Now that you’re both here, and we’ve offered both of you the job, I think the only thing for it is to get to know you both. Yes. What do you think?” She looked between us. “A trial period! It seems so unfair to send one of you home now. Why don’t we just give you each a couple of months…”
“You want to…employ us both?” I asked slowly.
“Yes! Yes, what a great solution,” Rosie said breathily. There was something quaint about her—a bit otherworldly. “We’re always run off our feet during harvest season—I’m sure two managers would be a huge help.”
“And you’ll pay us both?” I asked.
Rosie’s eyes widened again. “Oh. I forgot about the money part.”
I shared a brief side-eye with Other Charlie.
“Both of you really want to be here?” Rosie asked rather desperately.
“Very badly,” I said.
“More than anything,” Other Charlie said. “I can’t even tell you, Rosie. I’ve been so excited about this incredible opportunity—starting life over here in this beautiful place, with this amazing project, reviving the farm shop at the heart of the community…It’s my dream.”
Her voice wobbled. I looked away from her. It’s going to be a lot easier to keep hold of this job if I don’t feel sorry for Other Charlie, but I’ve never been great at keeping other people’s feelings out. All the more reason to start life over on a remote, secluded island, I say.
“It’s my job,” I said. “I’m sorry. But I’m not walking away from this.”
I can’t go back home. Home isn’t even there anymore. This is me now, all there is of me: a name, a job, a totally new life. The minute I stepped off that ferry and breathed it all in, I knew it was the right decision. I can be sober in this place. I can be better—I can be brand-new.
“I guess you could interview us both,” Other Charlie said. “See who you would rather give the job to?”
For the first time, at that, I felt nervous. I’m confident I’m right for this role, but this poised, attractive, well-spoken woman with her posh dress was definitely the kind of person who looked like she should be running a farm shop, not a scarred, bitter ex-bartender like me. If this actually was a misunderstanding, there’s a chance shewasthe person who’d been offered the job.
This opportunity was a lifeline for me. The thought of losing it now…
“The trial period idea,” I said. “It could work.”
Other Charlie’s eyes were so sharp.
“But I can’t pay you both,” Rosie said sadly.
“Well, I’d take half wages for the next two months,” I said, then belatedly ran the calculation, and winced. It’ll be just about doable if I dip into savings.
“You’d do that?” Other Charlie asked.
“Would you? For this opportunity? You’d have to take the salary cut, too.”
Her gaze was steady on mine. She was trying to figure me out. I imagine I was about as confusing to her as she was to me.
“This place has so much potential,” she said slowly. “I wouldn’t be surprised if we could justify two manager salaries at a place like this, once we’ve made some changes. If we work together, maybe we could both have a future at the farm shop.”
I met her gaze. What was this? A compromise—a peace offering? Why? It looked like an admission that the job wasn’t hers, but then, perhaps by offering to take half pay, I looked like I was conceding something, too. Should I just go back to the interview idea, I wondered, and take the risk?
Charlie was right: there were so many easy, obvious ways to fix the shop up. Visitors come to the island all through the summer, but there’s nothing directing them here from the harbor. A bunch of tourists arrived on the ferry with me this morning, and they were justgaggingto overpay for some island-made honey or something.
