Today’s sentence: “Can I have a word with you?”
She was tired and crotchety. Another weekend with the minimum of sleep, a pre-teenager that played up all the time and a partner forever down the pub.
Money was tight and he pissed away more than he gave her for housekeeping, yet she was expected to keep things ticking over regardless and was now holding down two jobs to keep their heads above water.
It was pointless talking to him.
Last time, he accused her of extravagance, but he had no idea of the cost of clothes or shoes for his kid. Yeah, the brat wasn’t even hers as the pair of them had come as a package deal. What a fool she was. Rose tinted glasses? Red concrete shutters more like.
She bought her own clothes in charity shops, some even designer labels, for a few quid. Streisand’s Second Hand Rose suited her very well, but she was well turned out on a budget, though the men of the family always had to be seen to come first.
A notice on the staff room wall caught her eye and she found her mind drifting from the job in hand all day.
A promotion was always a consideration but this was different and could be the perfect solution.
She knew could do it, she had the skill base and personality as well as the confidence.
In her lunch hour, she carefully wrote out an application letter to express her interest in the position advertised.
She knew of the person conducting the interviews, but not them personally, so there should be no embarrassment there. Most times bosses went through personnel files to get a feel for applicants, and she knew there were no skeletons in her resume.
By the time she returned to her desk, her letter was in the appropriate pigeon-hole.
She was granted an interview two days later.
She dressed with particular care, being careful not to overdo her makeup or jewellery.
When asked why she wanted the job, she was completely honest, but emphasised her capabilities.
Mr Giles, the interviewer, looked over his glasses then back to her file and application letter.
‘You do realise where it is, don’t you?’ he said.
‘Of course,’ she replied. ‘I can be ready in a matter of days if necessary. I have the expertise, I’m under thirty five, fit and in good health. In fact, I had my company medical last month.’
‘So I see. OK. I have other people to see, but I’ll let you know by the end of next week.’
She didn’t know how she kept her excitement, unease, or anticipation in check at home. Brat and his Dad were very chummy these days and more or less ignored her anyway as long as their meals were on the table and clean clothes in the drawer.
She had seen nothing of Mr Giles, and eagerly looked out for the internal postal messengers in case a letter telling her one way or the other was coming her way.
Come the following Thursday afternoon, she believed she had not been successful.
The phone rang at ten to five, and on answering it, she recognised Mr Giles’ voice.
‘Can I have a word with you in my office please?’
‘Of course,’ she replied.
Nipping quickly to the loo, she made sure she was tidy and walked up the stairs, hoping and praying it would be good news.
‘Please go in,’ his secretary said as she punched the intercom to announce her arrival.
She was greeted with a beaming smile, first class air tickets to Hawaii for her new role, an expense account and the words
‘Congratulations Rosemary! You leave in two weeks.’