Surprised to find himself suddenly on the defensive, only two minutes into the interview, Jack tried to explain.
‘Well I’ve always tried to be discreet, you know, kind of under the radar. But I appreciate that nowadays people do expect to be able to check out all kinds of businesses and services online.’
‘That’s right, but there’s under the radar and then there’s invisible. There’s a big difference. I mean, how do new clients find you?’
Jack shrugged, and said, ‘The people I want to find me usually make it up here, like you did. The rest don’t. I’ve always relied on word of mouth, personal recommendations and referrals up until now. But I must admit over the last couple of years they’ve begun to dry up.’
‘Yeah, it looks like your cleaner hasn’t made it up for a year or two either.’
‘Yes, I’m sorry about the mess. But I work alone and most of my clients these days, frankly, aren’t too fussy about the standard of housekeeping. To be honest, it’s a long time since I did any interviews. I suppose I should ask you some searching questions.’
‘Please ask me anything you want, but I hope you’re not going to try any of that psychometric testing crap.’
‘Well I might, if I knew what it was.’
Annie seemed relieved and said, ‘Thank God for that. It’s an interview technique that a lot of companies use to find out about the real you. Believe me, I’ve had a lot of interviews lately and it absolutely does my head in.’
‘Sounds clever, how does it work?’
‘But that’s the point, it doesn’t work. What they usually do is ask completely mad open questions that don’t have a right or wrong answer, or any answer really, just to hear what you say and how you react under pressure. Occasionally, if the interviewer is bored, you can be asked to sing, dance, or role play, even if the interview is just for some rubbish zero hours, temporary gig in a call centre or a shop. The really annoying thing is that totally unsuitable people seem to be able to sail straight into the top well-paid jobs, like the guys who run some of the big banks. While all the poor sods like me, who are scrambling around for shitty, entry-level jobs have to jump though endless hoops of screening and interview. I don’t get it. It’s completely mad.’
Jack was both intrigued and amused by her rant and said, ‘I knew things were tough out there for young people looking for work, but I didn’t think it had got that crazy. Tell me a bit more.’
‘Okay, I went to an interview for a call centre job last month and the HR guy I was there to see asked me to imagine that I’m walking along a beach on holiday. This is true, I swear. So he says, in the distance you can see three women. Two of them are wearing white swimsuits and the third one has a skimpy black bikini on.’
‘That’s amazing,’ said Jack, ‘I have that same dream all the time. Sorry, please go on.’
‘Anyway, he tells me that as I get closer to them I will see that the two swimsuit chicks have worried sad expressions on their faces and bikini girl is rolling around in the sand, laughing like a drain. But she also has floods of tears running down her cheeks at the same time. So Mr HR asks me what I think the “group dynamic” is down on the beach, to cause such “polarised emotions”. In plain English, I have to try and explain what the hell’s going on.’
Jack scratched his head and said ‘Jeez, that’s a tough one. I mean it could be just about anything.’
‘Well I’d been to loads of interviews just like this recently, and I’d just about had enough of the stupid questions, so I told him that I honestly couldn’t see what this had to do with a poxy job, working to a set script in a call centre selling car insurance. So then he got the hump big time and said that it didn’t matter if I saw the relevance of the question or not, because his boss drew up the interview questions and everyone has to answer them, without exception. End of.’
‘So, he was just following orders, eh?’ said Jack, smiling.
‘Exactly. So then I told him that was perfectly obvious to me what had happened on the beach. Bikini girl had just farted. She’d dropped an absolute bomb. Her two mates had just caught a whiff and they were both about to bring up their breakfasts.’
Jack, something of a serial farter in his own right, laughed out loud and then asked, ‘So did you get the job?’
‘Funnily enough, I didn’t get that one. The personnel dork said I wasn’t taking the interview seriously. He was right.’
They both smiled and Jack started to get a good feeling about the early rapport that he seemed to have struck up with this strange, outspoken young woman sitting opposite.
‘So anyway, what do you want to ask me?’
‘Okay then, and I promise there’s absolutely no tricky psychometric stuff. How old are you Annie?’
‘Twenty-four.’
‘And how many jobs have you had since you left school?’
Annie had to think for a moment, before answering, ‘About thirty. Well, give or take a couple.’
‘If you don’t mind me asking, how many times have you been sacked?’
She smiled. ‘No, I’ve never been sacked. I have been asked to leave once or twice, admittedly at fairly short notice. Once with a security escort right out the front door onto the pavement, with my stuff in a cardboard box. But no, never formally sacked. Not so far.’
‘And if you got this job, would you need to work any notice?’
‘No, I walked out of my last job yesterday, so I can start right away.’
With the preliminaries taken care of, Jack cut to the chase. ‘Okay Annie, I normally prefer to work alone, but there’s been a recent change of circumstances, which means I now need an assistant. Why do you think that might be necessary?’
‘I’ve no idea.’
‘Humour me, okay. Pretend for a minute that you’re a private detective. Just look around the office here and use your powers of observation.’
Annie paused and composed her thoughts before replying, ‘Well I suppose you could be really busy with work, making loads of money, but that’s, um, unlikely. Or you might be getting a bit past it, a bit forgetful, needing someone around to help out.’
‘You’re getting warmer … go on.’
Annie looked again around the chaotic office and said, ‘Maybe you just can’t find anything. It looks as if you badly need someone to organise things around here. Where’s your office computer by the way?’
Jack hesitated and squirmed slightly in his seat before answering. ‘It sort of gave up the ghost last month and I haven’t had a chance to replace it. So I’m mainly just using an old fax machine at the moment to communicate with clients.’
Annie was incredulous and spluttered, ‘A fax machine? You’re kidding me, right? I saw a couple of them demonstrated at the Science Museum last year, it was so funny. Where you put a sheet of actual paper in one end, press a button and maybe, if you’re lucky, a curly, barely legible document, reeking of chemicals eventually plops out at the other end.’
Jack felt his neck and both cheeks start to burn red with technophobe shame. ‘That probably does just about cover it, yes.’
‘Well that’s just, like, so last century. I know you don’t have a website or a computer, but surely you must at least have a smart phone?’
Jack shook his head and crossed his arms, clearly now reluctant to reveal any further information beyond name, rank and number.
However, Annie was now fully into her stride and quite relentless. ‘Okay, I think I already know the answer, but how about a Facebook page, or even a Twitter account?’
‘No none of the above, sorry. They’re all the work of the devil as far as I’m concerned, but I don’t think that makes me a bad person. On the plus side of things, I do have a fully functioning flush toilet and a three-speed fan heater to get me through the winter months.’
Jack then winced as this young stranger, who he had met only ten minutes before, then summed up the pitiful current state of JD Investigations with laser-like accuracy. ‘Well, if you don’t
mind me saying, you’re basically a dinosaur as far as technology and marketing goes. And to be honest, it’s not an intern that this place needs, it’s a miracle worker.’
Jack half-smiled and raised both hands in mock surrender, to stop the rant. ‘I prefer old-school to dinosaur, but I take your point.’
Annie then paused to catch her breath and rein in her enthusiasm. ‘I’m really sorry, Mr Davidson, I got a bit carried away there. I always do that. I didn’t mean to be so critical. Obviously it’s your business and you can run it any way you want. But I just can’t help myself when I see things being done in a sloppy inefficient way, when it’s really just as easy to be organised and on top of things.’
‘That’s absolutely okay, Annie, but to return to my original question … why do you think I need an assistant?’
Annie appeared reluctant to answer at first, but then said, ‘Look, I hope you won’t be offended, but I think the most likely explanation is that you need someone to drive you around because you’ve recently been done for drink-driving and lost your licence.’
Jack frowned and said, ‘Really …what makes you think that?’
Annie looked round the office once again, before answering, ‘Well firstly your coat’s soaking wet, so you obviously walked a fair bit this morning, although there’s a half-empty car park just round the corner. Your shoes are also pretty muddy and I can see a pile of old bus tickets in the waste paper basket, so I think you haven’t driven to work for a while. As I see it, there are only two possibilities, either you can’t afford a car, or you’ve lost your licence. But given your age, beer gut, red nose and the strong smell of booze and mints coming from your breath … my money is definitely on the driving ban.’
Jack was sincere in his praise and said, ‘Christ, you don’t hold back, do you? But I’m impressed. Honestly.’
‘Oh, there was something else.’
‘What’s that?’
Annie paused and then smiled. ‘My auntie, Peggy McKay, has the Royal Bar. She told me about you losing your licence and needing an assistant who can drive. So when I saw your ad in the local paper I thought, why not? This would be something completely different for me. I definitely need a new challenge, you know?’
Jack had been making occasional scribbled notes on his A4 pad as the interview progressed and at last he interrupted the opinionated young woman and said, ‘Let’s take a quick time-out here, okay? Correct me if I’m wrong. But so far, and we’ve only been going around twenty minutes, you seem to strongly disapprove of the fact that I don’t have a website, a social media presence, a functioning computer or a smartphone. In addition the standard of housekeeping here in the office apparently leaves a lot to be desired and my breath smells of booze, despite the fact that it’s only ten o’clock in the morning. At least my poor old fax machine gave you a laugh. So does that just about cover it, or have I missed anything else that annoys you?’
Not for the first time at an interview, Annie James suspected that she had gone too far with her answers. Probably way too far. But she just couldn’t get a handle on this guy. He actually seemed to want honest answers and at least appeared to be interested in her opinions. This was definitely a first, but maybe he was just weird.
She decided to say exactly what was on her mind. This was a high risk strategy and giving straight answers to his questions might give her a good chance of actually landing the job. But, by the same token, it could also mean she would crash and burn and probably get thrown down the stairs into the bargain.
She bit her lip and continued, ‘Okay then, there’s also the missing name plate at the front door and, since you’re asking, I think you definitely need to get a haircut and spend some money on new clothes. I mean, honestly, that crumpled old suit you’re wearing and the naff shiny tie with the mystery stains would be ideal if you were selling the Big Issue outside Queen Street station. But, for anyone else, this is definitely not a good look. I mean, if you go to meet potential new clients looking like that, you’re giving out completely the wrong impression.’
‘Which is?’
‘Sad, clapped-out, curled up at the edges, over the hill, out of touch …’
‘Stop. Please, stop. I get it, honestly I do, and I don’t necessarily disagree with any of that. But tell me this, because I’m confused. If I’m, apparently, such a basket case, why on earth do you want to come and work here?’
‘As I said before, I like a challenge and I think I can help. I’ve got a lot of ideas and I want a job where I’m asked for my opinion and not just told what to do and shut up all the time.’
‘Okay, Annie, I appreciate your honesty. Is there anything else you want to ask me?’
For the first time during the interview Annie looked slightly anxious and unsure. ‘Look, I don’t want to waste your time, but from what you’ve seen so far, do you think I have any of the qualities you’re looking for?’
‘Well you’re young and obviously intelligent. You’ve also got good observational skills and, like most women, you can lie beautifully, which is really useful in this business. I think the reason you’ve had loads of different jobs is probably because you get bored easily. You just don’t like the normal office routine, all the career development, continuous improvement, annual appraisal bullshit that goes on everywhere these days. What you really need is to be stretched and challenged, to be trusted to use your own initiative.’
Annie nodded enthusiastically and said, ‘You’re not wrong. I’ve got a brain and ever since I left school, I’ve been looking for a job where I’m allowed to use it.’
Jack continued, ‘And if I had my private detective hat on, I would say that you’ve probably worked for a time in the Civil Service or local government, dealing directly with the public, because you seem pretty cynical for someone so young. I think you must have listened to a lot of hard-luck stories and lies from people desperate for money. I don’t know, probably somewhere like Social Security.’
Annie appeared genuinely taken aback by his guesswork. ‘That is just so cool, I actually worked for eight months at Work and Pensions last year, and for the last three months I was helping to deal with crisis loans. Honestly, you could be on television like that guy, what’s his name? Darren somebody … Jack was puzzled. ‘You mean Darren Clark? The Irish golfer?’
‘No, sorry it’s Derren … Derren Brown. You know, the mind reader guy.’
It was now Jack’s turn to pause and smile. ‘Okay, there was something else. Your aunt Peggy told me all about you as well. She says you’re okay. Smart and a bit eccentric, but okay, and her recommendation is good enough for me. But what you have to understand, Annie, is that this isn’t like an ordinary job. You need to be flexible and willing to occasionally work long hours. Once in a while things can even get a little bit scary, but mainly it’s just about using your brain and hard work.’
‘I’m definitely up for that,’ she replied, without hesitation.
‘Right then, Annie, this is my last question. If you answer it correctly, you’ll get the job. So no pressure, you ready?’
Annie nodded calmly and replied, ‘Okay, shoot.’
Jack lifted up a folded newspaper from his desk and said, ‘I try and do The Times crossword every morning. It’s a kind of test, you know, to see what kind of day I’m going to have. If I can finish it in less than an hour, then it’s going to be a good day and if I can’t, well …’
‘Let me take a wild guess, you’ve not finished it recently.’
‘Correct. I think the last time was when Gordon Brown was spotted in the House of Commons. So, you’re right … not recently.’
‘Gordon who?’
‘Never mind, he used to be a politician, allegedly. Anyway, in today’s paper I have only one clue still to get and then I’m finished, so that’s what my last question’s about.’
Annie was clearly not impressed and said, ‘I don’t know anybody who still does crosswords. They’re kind of dorky and, like, so old school. It’s a bit like coll
ecting stamps, or trainspotting.’
‘Okay, I accept that it’s maybe no longer cool, but trying to do a crossword is actually great practice for a newbie private eye. Think about it … completing a crossword involves exactly the same thought process as working on a new case. You’re presented with a set of clues, some of which maybe don’t make much sense to begin with, or are complete red herrings, and you then have to use your brain to logically work through them, and try and to fit all the pieces together.’
Annie was clearly unconvinced and said, ‘Whatever. If you say so.’
‘Anyway the clue I’m stuck on, is the name of an exotic bird with a long neck. Two words with five and eight letters … any ideas?’
‘So let me get this straight … if I can guess the answer correctly, I get the job?’
‘That’s right.’
‘Okay then, an exotic bird with a long neck and the name has two words, with five and eight letters. Oh, right … it must be Naomi Campbell.’
Jack laughed out loud and slapped the top of his desk. ‘That’s the wrong answer, but it’s a pretty good joke. I like your style, Annie James. You’ve got the job, if you want it.’
‘I really want it. Thanks.’
Jack then tossed his copy of The Times aside and said with a smile, ‘Welcome aboard then, Annie, and bugger the crossword, it’s still going to be a good day. Let’s give this intern arrangement a trial for a month and see how it goes. And if things don’t work out, well … no harm no foul.’
Annie was eager and excited. ‘Cool. I can start right away, if you like. What would you like me to do for you first, Mr Davidson?’
Jack smiled before answering. ‘It’s been a quite a while since a woman asked me that. Okay, the first thing is to call me Jack, just Jack. Then you can just settle in and get the feel of things, while I go out for a couple of hours.’
‘No problem, but one final question. What’s my job title? You know, like when I answer the phone, what do I say to people?’
‘I really hadn’t thought about that, what would you like it to be?’
Annie pondered for a moment, then said, ‘How about Associate Investigator?’
Fire in the Blood Page 2