It was the right colour and length, he thought, but a halter neck? Wouldn’t that be a little too revealing for an interview?
As if reading his thoughts, Emma delved inside the wardrobe again and fished out her silver biker jacket.
‘With this?’ she asked.
‘Yes,’ said Perry with a thumbs up.
‘And how about these to match?’ Emma had dug out a pair of silver ankle boots.
‘Yes. Original, yet classy.’ Perry winked.
‘That’s me, Dad,’ replied Emma, laughing. Then she looked back into the mirror. ‘But this hair style definitely isn’t.’
On that Perry couldn’t agree more. He loved his daughter’s wild, chestnut hair.
‘I much prefer your curls,’ he granted, then left her to it.
‘So do I,’ called Emma and reached for her water spray. She dowsed her head until the flat, lifeless hair bounced back into its natural springy self, and she contained it with a thick, black ribbon.
The finished effect hit the mark.
‘There, that’s better,’ she nodded with more confidence when assessing her reflexion for the second time and marched downstairs.
‘Go knock ’em dead,’ Perry cheered in support. He was giving Emma a lift to the interview and was feeling nervous for her. Driving to Samphire Bay, he kept stealing side glances at his daughter. She seemed calm enough, now that she’d changed her appearance. Although he’d suggested the navy suit, he was glad Emma had had the conviction to wear her own choice of clothes. She was right, she had to beherself.And if that wasn’t good enough, they were the fools.
As Emma walked up the steps to the house she was greeted by Jennifer at the front entrance.
‘Hello, you must be Emma?’ she welcomed with a smile.
‘Yes,’ replied Emma, holding her hand out.
Jennifer shook it and showed her inside. Emma was once more in awe of the marbled hall and her eyes homed in on the grand piano she had previously played at the open day. Jennifer noticed.
‘Do you play?’ she asked.
‘Yes, I’ve actually played that one.’ Her head nodded towards the instrument.
‘Really?’ Jennifer said in surprise.
Emma gave her a quick explanation. As she did so, she heard a door creak open. Turning towards it, Jennifer quickly hurried her along the hall and into the library where the interviews were taking place.
‘Please, take a seat,’ Jennifer sat behind a desk and signalled Emma to sit opposite her.
All the time Emma was taking in her surroundings. The library was amazing with floor-to-ceiling shelving crammed with colourful books. It even had a ladder that ran across a wooden rail to access the top. She was enchanted by the place. Again, this wasn’t lost on Jennifer who smiled to herself. It was good to see that the girl was impressed. The previous interviewee seemed a touch underwhelmed, stating that the manor house where she had previously worked was far bigger. Unfortunately, the other remaining applicant had cancelled, saying she had decided to take another position overseas. This Emma looked like she appreciated her environment, which was a positive thing for Jennifer.
‘So, Emma, tell me a little bit about yourself,’ she started, and sat back in her chair.
‘Well, up to now I’ve worked in a bank and have just taken voluntary redundancy,’ replied Emma. She gave an outline of all the duties she had covered, keen to emphasise her organisational skills, honesty and time keeping, plus how she had been deputised to section manager on occasions. Then not wanting to sound too boring, added, ‘but my passion lies with the band I’m in,’ and went on to give a potted history of how she joined it and the gigs they performed.
Jennifer listened with interest, thinking how different this girl was, even her dress sense was a touch quirky. The one thing bothering her was if she would soon tire of housework. It was all well and good living inside a marvellous Art Deco house, but having to clean it was another matter. When she voiced her concern Emma shrugged.
‘It’s what I do at home, at least I’d be getting paid to do it here,’ she reasoned, before she went on to tell Jennifer about the circumstances at home, of how her mum had died when she was thirteen years old and that it was just her and her dad now.
Jennifer sat and listened with compassion, definitely warming to the girl. She had a natural confidence, no airs or graces, but appeared comfortable in her own skin. So far, so good. Now to outline all the duties that would be expected of her, including the cooking aspect.
‘The owner of the house lives alone, although he does entertain and you could be catering for large numbers at times,’ warned Jennifer, closely observing Emma’s reaction. ‘Sometimes at short notice,’ she threw in to really test her.
Emma remained unfazed. If anything, the question had sparked curiosity within. What did the owner do? Her mind cast back to the house open day and she tried to picture his face again. He’d worn dark sunglasses which had obscured his features. Had that been deliberate? She also remembered that his deep, smooth voice had resonated with her. She’d definitely heard it before. Her curiosity started to build momentum. Deciding to dig for information, Emma considered her reply before answering.
