‘Have to ask the manager.’ The boy turned to serve another customer. Sarah pushed in front of him.
‘Could you fetch the manager for me?’
‘Not in.’
‘Sorry, do you mean the manager’s not at work?’ Sarah swallowed her frustration. Why couldn’t the boy speak in full sentences?
‘Yeah.’
‘Well, could you tell me what time he’ll be here?’
‘It’s a woman. She’ll be here to close up at five.’
‘Fine. I’ll wait.’
‘Suit yourself.’
Sarah squashed herself behind a dirty plastic table and pulled out her phone. She checked the council website again, but as expected, all the jobs advertised required experience and references. Sarah opened a new tab and began scouring the job listings of a local recruitment firm. She stopped scrolling and stared in horror at an advert for her old job.So much for budget cuts and slimming down the team.
By ten past five, Sarah was giving up hope of ever meeting the elusive burger joint manager. She stood and gathered her coat and bag just as a teenage girl with slicked back hair walked in.
‘Alright, Nuts? Everything good?’
Nuts? Sarah looked over at the counter. The greasy boy nodded in her direction.
‘That lady wants to talk to you about getting a job.’
The girl stopped by Sarah’s table and gazed at her through narrowed eyes. ‘What’s a person like you doing looking for a job in a place like this?’
The girl chewed gum as she spoke, and Sarah tried to ignore the way it made her stomach churn. ‘I need to be earning money.’
‘You worked in a restaurant before?’
Sarah thought calling the burger joint a restaurant was a stretch, but bit her tongue. ‘I did a bit of waitressing while I was at uni,’ she lied.
‘Uni, hey? La-di-da. Got references?’
Sarah shook her head.
‘Lucky for you we’re short staffed. Can you come in for training tomorrow? I’ll put you on a two-week trial, see how you get on. Wait there.’ The girl disappeared behind the counter and came back, holding out several sheets of paper. ‘Have this application filled out by the time you come in?’
‘Will do,’ said Sarah, taking the outstretched paperwork ‘What time tomorrow?’
‘Ten sharp.’
‘See you then.’ Sarah pulled on her coat and forced her feet to walk rather than run out of the door. At least it was a job. A job was a job.It’s only a stop-gap, she told herself.
On her way to the bus stop, Sarah’s phone rang, and she rifled through her bag to find it.
‘Hello?’
‘Hi, Sarah. Greg here. I’ve got a viewing booked in for tomorrow morning.’
‘A viewing?’
‘Yes, a viewing of your parents’ house.’
My house. ‘OK. What time?’
