Authors: NC Marshall
As
I sit back down with what is described on the machine menu as a
Luxury
Latte,
the door opens and a young girl who seems far too proficient for her
years enters the room. I take a quick sip from the polystyrene cup and burn my
tongue on the still-scalding coffee.
“Hi,
Mrs Parker,” the girl beams through perfectly painted bright pink lips at me,
revealing a set of blinding white teeth. Her platinum blonde hair hangs down to
her tiny waist, and her huge boobs are surely not real. She has a deep tan, which
suggests she has either just returned from a long holiday somewhere tropical or
she’s a regular at the tanning salon. She is built like a model and her long
legs seem to go on for all eternity. She resembles a life-size Barbie doll.
“Mr
Wallis is ready to see you now,” she declares with poise. I look downwards at
my still steaming cup of coffee, quickly regretting my last minute decision.
The girl follows my gaze and seems to tap into my thoughts.
“Oh,
just take it with you,” she grins, “Mr Wallis is pretty laid back, he won’t
mind in the slightest.”
We
walk along a corridor and reach the end, where the girl knocks on a solid
polished wooden door before entering the room. I follow her sheepishly into the
office, to be greeted by a man that could intimidate even the most self-assured
among us. He is tall, at a guess I would say about six-foot three. He is in
good shape, with broad shoulders. His mousy brown hair is greying slightly. He
looks in his early sixties, and holds himself in a posture that just screams
out to the world that he knows what he is doing and doesn’t give a damn what
anybody thinks of him. I am saddened a little as I realise that on first
appearance, he reminds me of my dad.
Mr
Wallis smiles at me. His dark brown eyes look friendly and kind, yet another
resemblance to my late father. He stands from behind his large, meticulously
organised desk, and introduces himself as Richard, holding out his hand towards
me. I move forward to shake it, but my legs buckle in my stupid high shoes. I
stumble forwards, making my coffee spill over the lid and straight onto his
beautifully tailored suit.
“Oh
my God,” I let out an involuntary squeal in a pitch so high that I’m sure even
the most unintelligent of dogs can interpret. “Mr Wallis, I am
so
sorry.”
The
blood is rushing to my cheeks, and I want to have the ability to flick on a
switch that will turn me invisible to the naked eye. Richard waves off my
apology and calmly takes off his now stained jacket. He hands it to the
beautiful young girl who leaves the room quickly, but not before glancing at me
and smirking slightly before closing the door behind her. I sit down opposite
Richard, take a deep breath of air, and prepare myself for what is sure to be
the worst interview I have ever had to face.
My
day has continued to worsen. I didn’t think that could be possible, though
evidently, it is. The interview had been dreadful from the beginning, as I had
expected. I’d stuttered my way through my words, straining desperately to
convince Richard that my previous experience and expertise was what he needed
in a PA. I had calmed down immensely by the end, and even managed to get some
good points across, but I felt that this was too little too late.
Richard
had reassured me throughout, and I felt more human as the interview came to a
slightly abrupt close. The questioning had ceased after an hour, and I safely
managed to leave the office without any further self-humiliation. Richard had
informed me that he was interviewing over the next couple of days for the post,
and I would hear by the end of the week if I had been successful in securing
the position. Maybe a profession as a full-time mum is just my destiny.
I
run back to the car as it’s now raining very heavily, and I am soaked through
by the time I reach it. I settle into the driver’s seat, still dripping wet,
and call Dan at work. I briefly explain how the interview went, not
particularly wanting to go into detail, and make sure he is able to pick up
Josh from school. I have a feeling I'll be a while getting home if this rain
continues. Dan tells me not to worry, he can finish work ahead of time,
everything is under control, and he will see me shortly. I put down my phone
and tune the radio to another station before starting the car and hitting the
drive home.
Almost
two hours and three traffic diversions later, I arrive home. There had been
flooding almost everywhere, and I could see the panic starting to set in on the
busy roads. I breathe a quiet sigh of relief as I walk through my front door
and gladly close it tightly behind me, shutting out both the terrible weather
and day that I’d had.
The
table lamps are on throughout the house, as the miserable weather outside has
the sky pitch black. The house feels warm and snug. An incredible smell of
cooking food wafts through the hall as I take off my jacket and shoes, dumping
them with my handbag at the bottom of the stairs. I pass the living room,
popping my head in where Josh sits far too close to our already massive TV,
fixated on some farmyard based cartoon. He is sipping away at a bowl of pink
strawberry ice cream. He doesn’t even acknowledge my presence when I say hello,
happy in his own little carefree world.
Dan
is in the kitchen preparing what looks like a gorgeous meal. My belly gurgles
as I realise I am famished. I hadn’t eaten any breakfast this morning as I
couldn’t stomach it and lunch had slipped my mind. Dan looks up from the gas
hob, smiling as he notices me.
“Hey
you,” he says in a faintly sympathetic tone, as he quickly moves to the
glass-fronted wine cooler and produces a chilled bottle of Pinot Grigio. He
presents it to me as if we were in a restaurant; a folded white tea towel slung
casually over his arm. I smile and nod back to him gratefully. I have already
told him the basics of the day, and I think that he can likely pick up from my
drowned rat status that I’m not in a particularly chatty mood at the moment. I
seat myself heavily on a dining room chair. Dan puts a large glass of wine on
the table in front of me, which I retrieve as it barely makes contact with the
surface of the table. I take a sip; it tastes dry and has a crisp, citrus
flavour. He gives me a kiss on the cheek and squeezes my shoulders tightly
before he returns to the oven, and I shake my head and chuckle at just how bad
a day I have had.
Dan
dishes out dinner soon after, and I polish off the whole lot along with another
large glass of wine, while filling him in on the events of my day. I’m starting
to relax a little as he puts Josh to bed and prepares me a hot bubble bath. He
tells me that tomorrow is another day, and everything will seem a lot better in
the morning. He always knows exactly what to say to cheer me up, and is
generally right with his assumptions.
The
bath is divine, and the sweet smell of lavender scented oils clears my head and
soothes me. The bubbles are nearly spilling over the lip of the tub, but the
hot water feels wonderful as it covers my still incredibly tense shoulders.
My
mind wanders to how Jess would have acted in an interview like the one I had
today. She had been so tenacious, knowing what she wanted and how she would get
it. She had always been an assertive character, but never in a bad way. She had
a presence when she entered a room, it wasn’t uncommon for complete strangers
to feel a natural pull towards her, curious to know more. Sometimes I wish I
was more like that. My lack of confidence and insecurities have always been my
downfall, and I have a feeling that this will lead to a decline on the job
front today. Jess would have been offered the job instantly.
I
can hear Dan downstairs talking on his mobile, his gentle yet authoritative
voice flowing through the hall and up the steps. Although he tries to escape
work when he is at home, sometimes it just isn’t that easy. Even though it’s
now quite late in the evening, and he is still dealing with business, it never
appears to faze him. He takes it all in his stride, and apart from the odd
stressful occasion he remains incredibly laid back. This sort of outlook has
propelled him upwards over the years, and he is now a senior partner at a
reputable law firm. He is fantastic at his job. He has earned so much respect
from all his work colleagues and is held in high regard by the company. He is
highly recommended and always gets good results for his clients. He works hard,
too hard, I sometimes fear. I have to admit next to him I feel inferior when
looking back at my own career, although he would hate me for thinking this way
about myself.
Dan
and I had met through work. I decided after finishing college to skip
university and headed straight into full-time employment. I was independent,
and wanted to become self-sufficient; not have to rely on anyone other than
myself. I wanted nothing more than to move away from the sleepy lakeside town I
grew up in, and start a new adventure in the big bright city.
I
had rented a modest one bedroom flat in a rather dodgy part of town, to say the
least. It was based above a launderette. If I close my eyes now, I can still
remember the smell of the detergent they used in the machines, and how it would
take over the whole building. I always find it intriguing that a smell can be
the link to so many memories.
I
soon secured a permanent job working as a waitress in a local Spanish tapas
restaurant not far from where I lived. The hours were terrible, and the pay not
much better, but I’d hoped it was just a starting point. Admittedly, it was a
real struggle at first and I worried my parents sick, but I loved the city so
much there was no way I would have allowed myself to fail.
Life
in the city was so different to what I had grown up knowing, and although I
loved my hometown, I knew instantly that I would never return there to live. My
dad had offered to help me out with money, knowing that I was having a
difficult time, but I politely refused. He was hoping to retire early. I
couldn’t take a penny off him. He and Mum had worked hard for their future
together, and I didn’t want to be any hindrance to that.
I
started work as a secretary at a law firm at the age of twenty-four, and I
thought all my blessings had come at once. It was a far cry from the jobs I had
been performing until that stage, and I felt that I had found an occupation
that suited me well.
Daniel
Parker was an up and coming young business lawyer, and my boss. Even back then,
at his young age of twenty-seven, he showed immense promise and I knew he would
go far. What I didn’t predict was that we would fall head over heels in love,
go on to be married and have a happy future in the years ahead of us.
I
worked for Dan for another year after our relationship started. However, the
cliché of the boss and secretary having a ‘fling’ didn’t really suit, and I got
fed up with the stares and gossip throughout the office. Our relationship was
far more than that, and I didn’t feel that I should have to answer to anyone in
the way I felt I was being made to. I soon left the law firm, making it easier
for Dan and me to continue on with our private lives together. Over ten years
later, here we are, happily married with a son. I honestly wouldn't change a
moment of it.
I
climb out of the bath, its temperature now only tepid and slip into a cosy
short nightdress, warmed from hanging near the bathroom radiator. Even wearing
this, I still feel cold, and shiver slightly as I go into the bedroom. I close
the blinds, shuddering as I look out the window at the rain that hasn’t seemed
to ease in its force. I sit on the bed, propping my feet up and search for the
TV remote, which has slipped under the bed covers.
Turning
on the flat screen television positioned on the wall in front of me, I
half-heartedly flick through the numerous channels before finally deciding on a
re-run of a comedy show I have probably seen a thousand times before. The
bedclothes beneath me are warm and fresh. I shuffle further down the bed and
rest my head on the fluffy pillows, pulling the heavy duvet up to my chin and
relaxing further. Thoughts of the day flash through my mind as I feel my eyes
getting heavy. The sound from the television becomes distant, before eventually
disappearing altogether. Then, once again, like so many times before, the dream
returns.
The
cold is always the first thing that I feel. It’s the type of cold that lies
deep in your bones, and you know that no amount of heat will ever disperse it.
My heart beats rapidly and I am instantly terrified, frozen to the spot on
which I stand. This is the first sign, clearly indicating that I have now left
my mortal body and I’m once again seeing the world through my sister’s eyes, on
the last night she spent on this earth.
The
icy wind whips through my loose hair and bites sharply into my exposed skin. I
wrap my heavy woollen cardigan around myself tighter and fold my arms across my
chest, trying to restrain my uncontrollable shivering. My eyes are raw and
swollen from crying, blurring my vision, and my throat is dry. I have a
headache that is gradually exploding towards the back of my skull, and my limbs
feel stiff.
I
glance around the expanse of the cliff top. I know the place well, and tonight
it looks beautiful, delicately lit by the white haze of light from the almost
full moon above. Further back on the cliff top stands a large solitary tree
with a wooden park style bench beneath it. The leaves on the tree are long
gone, its branches bare, spreading out wildly into the night sky, illuminated
in orange by a nearby street lamp. The grass here glistens with a thickening
layer of frost, as I walk closer to the cliff’s edge. There isn’t a soul
around. Then again, it’s bitterly cold and the winter nights are now firmly
settled in. Why would any sane person want to be up here? There are tiny rows
of light from nearby houses in the far distance. I imagine the people in them
getting on with their regular nightly routine, maybe having supper or cosied up
in front of the television, with their fires blazing. The faint smell of a wood
burning fire hangs in the air, it reminds me of home.
I
hold my breath, fighting back yet another episode of tears as I look down at my
feet, unwillingly guiding me closer to the edge. I feel so alone and empty. I
no longer have any dreams or aspirations. I've no job, and now no husband, all
because of my own stupid actions. There is no purpose in fighting anymore. The
pain I feel inside is so intense I can barely breathe, I’m not sure I can cope,
I don’t have the strength. My stomach is in knots. What have I done?
The
grass is slightly damp from an earlier rain as I near the edge of the cliff face.
I can smell the salt in the air from the sea raging beneath me. I peer down to
the isolated beach so far below. The tide is out, and the waves crash roughly
against the sandy beach. Once a bustling place of fun, love and memories for
me, it is now a deserted piece of land that I no longer wish to relate to. I
stand teetering on the edge, feeling a sensation of freedom that I have not
felt for a very long time. It’s so peaceful up here, it always has been, but
tonight the quiet is deafening me. I look up to the cloudless night sky and
then back down to the shoreline that now feels closer, somehow. I close my eyes
tightly and take a deep breath. Slowly I unfold my arms from across my torso,
letting them hang loosely at my sides. And then, everything becomes dark.