‘How long before the interview?’ My heart rate speeds up and I can feel the phone slip a little in my wet palms.
‘I’m emailing you the details now. You need to set up a time as soon as you can. I must tell you, the opportunity is amazing—’
I zone out from her validation; her recounting of how perfect a fit this will be. Instead, I pick up the local newspaper lying folded on the arm of the sofa. It’s a free circular, folded open to the classifieds page.I had no idea this thing still existed,I think, as my eyes scan the headlines.
Household and electrical items for sale.
Pets and livestock—a litter of kittens. Hens.
Property for sale and rent—flats, cottages. A farm.
Positions Vacant—it’s herewhere a small, square advertisement catches my eye.
Site Manager
Developer requires part-time assistant to the Project Manager in the inception stages of a local boutique hotel. Must be flexible and have excellent organisational skills.
I’ll admit it’s not perfect, but it’s enough to make my heart pitter-pat as my eyes scan the text a second time.
‘Fin, darling, are you there?’
‘What? Yeah, sorry. I was just taking notes.’ Sort of.
‘But I’ve sent the information you need in an email. Make the appointment, book a flight to London. Use the townhouse for the night. The housekeeper is expecting your call.’ Her mother’s Knightsbridge townhouse. This is Soraya to a T. She sorts shit out. ‘Let me know how it goes.’
‘I will.’
‘You don’t sound so enthused. This is perfect for you.’ I can hear the reprimand in her tone. She can’t help it; it’s just the way she is. I don’t doubt that it is perfect, other than I’ll be alone. Not that this would occur to Soraya.
‘I am,’ I reply. ‘I mean, I will be. It’s just, you know, a lot to take in.’ And I’m also a little distracted by the possibility I’m now holding in my hand.
‘Good. I must dash, darling.’
‘I’ll go check my emails now.’
We make our goodbyes and hang up. And I do check my emails... right after I apply for the position in the classifieds.
