by Oliver Rill
I dropped into one of the armchairs in the snug and looked outside.
“Debbie, you have really done a fantastic job and it’s beautiful. I am more than happy!” Debbie nodded tightly, whipped a wad of papers from the purse that she now had hanging from her arm and slapped them on the table.
“There are two copies. One for you and one for me. Can I get your signature, please?”
I leafed through to the last page and saw the proud sum of $64,000. I gulped giving a quick glance through from beginning to end. The individual items were as expected, but the total was a bit of a shock.
“Do you have any questions? Ask away!” pushed Debbie.
“Excuse me, Debbie. I’ve had a quick look and everything seems in order. Thank you.” I signed and passed her the copy.
“Good luck in your new home, Oliver. I have to go. It is Sunday today after all.” I walked Debbie to the door and watched as she climbed into her Porsche. Her business must be going well, I thought and had the fleeting feeling that my small airline probably turned over less profit than she did. I had an old Jaguar and that foul-tempered shrew, who was, admittedly, a little milder today, drove a new Porsche. There was another urgent change for me on the horizon I thought. And I had just disposed of a whole $64,000 from my 300 in one go! Not that I didn’t have enough to be going on with, but I would have to be a bit careful and not go throwing it out hand over fist on luxuries from now on.
Marie had almost finished the unpacking.
“You should see the pool furniture, Marie. It’s really sleek. We didn’t even think about that.”
“Ooh yes, I’ll have to have a look. I’m almost finished here. What did it all cost?” I told her.
“Well, you didn’t get it for free, but I’d have thought it could’ve been more. I guess it’s reasonable for what you have. Should I invite you to dinner as you are so poor now?”
“Well we’d better find a 7-Eleven or something. We haven’t even got any water to drink.”
“When Matt appears in a bit, I am sure he will let us know where one is. Have you got an internet connection yet?”
I called the IT guy to find out.
“Oliver, I have installed everything. It’s all good to go. The passwords are in the drawer under the TV. You’re going to need a printer too. Can I get that to you on Monday? You are going to need an TV package as well, but I didn’t know which one to get for you. And the work on the gate can’t be done till Monday either. I have it in the garage, but we have to get the hardware mounted first, see? Then I’m going to need your car to get it set up with the gate gear.” A barrage of information flowed down the phone line.
“Good, so the password is in the drawer under the TV?”
“Yes. You should change your password as soon as you can, but Monday will be fine for that. What time shall I rock up?” I thought that the afternoon would be the best time and I would get back to him on it.
Marie and I laid by the pool, shading our eyes from the sun while the dishwasher handled the first load of crockery.
“Strictly speaking we should strip the beds and put that through the washer first too. There is a dryer, but no washing powder. We really have to go shopping.” I said.
It was only just two p.m. when Matt arrived.
“Oh wow, what a palace! What should I do?”
“Matt, I think our first job must be shopping. We don’t even have drinking water!”
“And your pool is lacking water too. We will have to sort that out. You want to be able to take a dip, don’t you?”
Matt pulled out his cell phone and asked for the WiFi password. He searched, called and reported that an all-encompassing pool service would be here within the hour.
We got in the car and drove to a supermarket that was open 24/7. We took a trolley each. Dishwasher tablets, soap, laundry powder, candles, drinks, vegetables, herbs and spices, bread, yoghurt, muesli, fruit, nail brushes et cetera. All three trolleys were full to brimming and I left the supermarket $500 poorer.
The pool guys were waiting for us as we drove in the gate. There were two of them. They didn’t look as you imagine Hollywood pool guys to be, as though they were straight back from filming action man shots. They seemed just regular guys and with a touch of practicality, they inspected the workings and started cleaning immediately. They reckoned that the water would have to fill overnight and that it would be full around midday. Then they would return and check the PH values. In any case, we would be able to use the pool tomorrow afternoon.
I gave Matt the job of finding some help. He was ringing around to find a housekeeper from my room as he watched me free the hangers from their plastic jackets and hang my clothes in the wardrobe.
“Oliver, how does Tuesday six p.m. sound to you?”
“Let’s do it Wednesday when Marie’s gone back.” I called out from the dark depths of the wardrobe.
Matt poked his head around the door to see what I was doing and lazily leaned against the doorframe.
“And how often do you need it?” he asked.
I turned in shock, then smiled as I saw his coy grin.
“Once or twice a week, I think.”
He really was cocky, I thought. What was he doing? He had quite clearly said that he likes women and so why play that game with me? He had the job. What more did he want?
Marie came in and stripped the bed, while Matt ended his telephone call. Once she had left the room again, I sat down on the bed.
“Is there anything else I can do for you?” Matt said suggestively.
“Matt, we didn’t finish that conversation we started the other day. I am gay. That means I like good looking men. I fall in love with men and want to have sex with them. That’s what being gay means. You are a good looking man and maybe a massage is just something that you do between friends. Maybe it doesn’t have any other meaning than that for you. But for me it can be a type of come-on. A sort of foreplay if you like. An hors d’oeuvre. Then I am going to want the main course. Do you understand what I am saying? If I want the main course and you are only offering a meagre salad, it can lead to complications.”
“You don’t trust me, that is your problem.” He insisted.
“I don’t know, Matt. We don’t know each other that long. I just don’t want anything to get in the way of our work.” I said in measured tones. And with that I stood up and returned my attention to the job of hanging my clothes in the roomy wardrobe. “Matt, if you have time, see if you can call up a gardener. We’ll be needing one of those, too.”
Everything was packed away by early evening and Marie and I wanted to just collapse on the terrace and get a takeaway delivered. Matt asked if he could stay and Marie answered for me. We opened a wine, ate, chatted and suddenly it was 11 p.m. already. Matt got up and looked for his car keys. I looked at the empty bottles and said that he couldn’t go yet.
“Why not? It’s Sunday. I should be off today really, shouldn’t I?” he asked.
“No. You have to test the guest bedroom. You’ve drunk too much to drive.”
He protested, saying he was fine and I agreed he was fine, but I needed an assistant who still had a driving license. It was guest bedroom for him, no argument!
Later, as I lay in bed downstairs, it occurred to me that I could have called a taxi, but it was too late by then and Matt had penetrated a bit further into my private world. My thoughts revolved around Matt, my unbelievably beautiful new home and what I would face the next day. It took a while before I was able to fall into a deep sleep.
The next morning I gave Marie a set of house keys. Both she and Matt were up early and we breakfasted together on the terrace. I noticed that the pool was nearly full already. I had packed both my laptop and the one from the company in my bag yesterday in readiness and I was itching for the off. Marie wanted to hit the town again that morning and would be back in time to let the pool guys in at midday. She promised to make a salad and something else, depending on what she felt like cooking, for the eve
ning meal. It would be served at seven p.m. she said pointedly including both myself and Matt in her glare. Matt was flattered with Marie’s invitation, I felt a bit pressured by it. So we left for JB Homes, Marie a little bit flustered next to me, Matt in his Honda behind me.
Douglas was visibly relieved to offload some of his work. We met on the 6th floor, where I was introduced to all the staff. We didn’t have a conference room that I could use for an introductory speech. It all felt a little bit improvised. Even Doug’s office was nothing special. It was all a bit sobering for me. My office was a corner office, neither roomy nor plush. The northern view it offered was not especially enticing. I felt a small pang of disappointment.
I introduced myself to each member of staff personally at their desk, posed questions like what was going on presently, what should be done, and promised that we would have a meeting soon. I had enormous respect for the staff. Naturally they knew their jobs inside out and as boss, I didn’t have the faintest glimmer about what exactly these people, that I was now in charge of, did. Conversely, I dependent on them. I was dependent on them to like me, to complete their work in such a way that the planes flew and the tickets were sold seamlessly and continuously and in spite of that I couldn’t let them see how dependent on them I was and it was not the other way around. I adopted a friendly, slightly condescending but solidly respectful attitude towards them in the hope of earning their loyalty.
Matt and I wandered over to Doug, who asked for the receipts from the weekend. He flicked through them and asked where the bill for the furniture was. I wasn’t sure what he wanted with it, but passed him Debbie’s bill.
“I will have to pass that to JB Homes. They’re paying for the furniture.” That was a surprise to me. I had already resigned myself to the fact that I had parted with a large part of my considerable salary. However, even if JB Homes were generously dealing with it, I shouldn’t get reckless with money. Doug returned the receipts for the clothes. He didn’t want those. Then he showed us the useful parts of the company intranet and had printed out some day to day necessities such as the departmental contacts and telephone numbers and so on, which he gave to Matt.
As Doug stood up to leave to return to his own department in JB Homes, he shook my hand and wished us luck and, visibly relieved, left the room. I was overcome with a feeling of being submerged in cold water. With a mental shift, I purposefully asked Matt to come back to my office. On the way I fired off instructions. Firstly he was to make an appointment with the marketing department to talk about the Logo and name changes. He was also to find out who was responsible for the interior decor within the planes and make another appointment with them. His next job was to get the passenger data and connections from LAX (Los Angeles Airport) for all airports within a three thousand mile radius. Matt noted it all and then returned to his own desk in front of my office. There was no door for him, he was practically in the corridor. It wasn’t a comfortable set up, especially since he would be dealing with confidential information and private conversations. I wasn’t enamored of the office at all and wondered whether it wouldn’t be better to move into the building in Venice that needed renovation.
I stood up and passed Matt a sticky note: “Quote: Renovation for the Venice offices”. It was worth finding out how much it would cost before making the decision if we should move there or somewhere else.
Amanda was next on my agenda. I spoke to her about the bookings and capacities for each route. Steve wanted to talk technical matters concerning the planes, but I thought it would be too early to make that kind of decisions and suggested we meet the next day, however I didn’t really anticipate having learnt a lot by then either.
At one, I suggested lunch to Matt. He wanted to start the training and put me on a diet, so I ended up ordering the same as him. Before the food came, I rang Marie for a report. She said that the pool guys had nearly done their stuff and would be finished in half an hour and she was going to soak up the sun then. While we were eating it occurred to me that Matt and I both would need to know how much it would cost and how long it would take to paint an airplane in order to plan the future of the company.
“So what do you think of your first day?”
“Well it’s certainly different. There is tons to do and it’s all interesting jobs. I don’t know if I am ever going to be finished knocking off time though.”
“You will manage it, Matt. If things get a bit much, let me know. I have to have another chat with Amanda about the route capacities and then I have to speak to Mark, but he is with customers today and won’t be available till tomorrow.”
Once back in the office I realized that Matt needed to ring Boeing, Airbus and Bombardier. He was beginning to look a bit stressed.
“Matt, take it easy, ok? Listen, make the appointments first and then do the routes. One after the other. The routes don’t have to be completed today.” He let out a sigh of relief.
“It’s all so new and I want to make sure I am doing it right and it’s set out the way you want.”
“Just take it one thing at a time and I will come by later to have a look.”
At five, Amanda came in and gave me a folder. She said it was the mail and some documents for signature. Could I sign them and she would pick it up in the morning first thing. She turned to go.
“Sorry, Amanda. Can you stay and go through the mail with me, please? Sit down.” I said.
Amanda was a pretty young woman of around 30-ish and she was in a hurry. She didn’t have time and asked me to simply give her the folder the next day. We had a short discussion about her working hours as she had to pick up her kid and I didn’t agree with her simply dumping something on my desk and leaving. She would either have to come earlier or stay later. She made a short telephone call to organize a school friend taking her son and sat down opposite me with a huff.
“Amanda, do you see where I am coming from? I’m new and I am going to have to depend on your support for a while. Bring the mail at four tomorrow, then we will have more time, ok?”
Amanda was not mollified, but agreed petulantly. It only took about 20 minutes until we were through and I was able to send Amanda home. I wished her a pleasant evening and hoped that the dark clouds would be gone by the morning.
Going through Amanda’s folder a second time, I found something that had rung alarm bells. There was a letter from JB Homes to Californian Airlines giving them notice for the office space in their building for the end of next month! I called Matt in and asked him how the quote for Venice was coming along. He said he had four appointments with firms to look at the property and assess the scope of the job over the next week.
“Matt we have to be out of here in five weeks. You’ll have to make it a priority, ok? Do you know …”
“Can I get a quote from my Dad’s firm?” he interrupted me.
“Matt, if your Dad is reliable and quick and is around the same price as the others, yes. It’s just important to get it done quickly. Meet the firms there tomorrow first thing – at nine or ten!”
Matt reddened and said “Ok.” And ran away to telephone.
At 6.30 I stood in front of Matt’s desk and gave him a time out sign. We drove off in the direction of Hollywood.
“I’m not going to drink tonight, Oliver. I have to be up, bright and early tomorrow. I have to have a quite night in now and then.”
Marie had laid the table on the terrace outside. The pool looked enchanting, with the light dancing on the surface like black glass. We sat and chatted about our day. It felt like a small family coming together for relaxation and dinner at the end of the day. As Marie disappeared inside to the kitchen, Matt looked at me under his lashes and said quietly that he would swim in there naked one day then gazed at the pool.
“What’s stopping you? Do it!”
Matt put his head on one side and looked at me with one eyebrow raised.
Later Marie asked whether I really wasn’t going to go back to Berlin.
“I will at so
me point, just not at the moment. I’ll call Lufthansa in the morning and see if I can change my return ticket.”
Marie explained to Matt that I had been on Sifnos all summer and that a number of friends were waiting for me in Berlin that I had been putting off for a long while.
I suddenly felt a pang of guilt as it occurred to me that Aristo in London was also be included in that number. I excused myself and went to the snug and rang him. When he heard my voice, Aristo let loose a barrage of questions. I was so pleased to hear his voice too. I told him about what was happening but that I would be under the gun for a while and so wouldn’t be able to come. I asked him how things were there. Risto sounded as though he was putting on a brave face as he told me about his job and life in London. On a whim, I asked him what notice he would have to give. He replied that he would have to give at least a week’s notice for the flat and for the job and started to explain it all. His voice and forced cheerfulness as he spoke was enough. I interrupted him.
“I could really use your help here at the moment.”
“Where? In L.A.?”
“Yes. If I sent you a ticket and pay you, would you come and give me a hand?”
“To L.A.?”
“No, China!” I said sarcastically, “Yes, of course L.A!”
“Ok. Let me sort a few things here, but yes, definitely!”
“Thank you, Risto. I am so glad you can come.”
I went out onto the terrace with a spring in my step and Marie asked me what had happened to make me so gleeful. I shared the good news with her. Matt had to go as he still had to make his daily stop at the gym. He also wanted to get an early night as there was so much to do at work. I didn’t press him to stop. When he had gone, Marie and I chatted about Aristo, my platonic soul mate. I wanted to put him to work supervising the work at the new offices in Venice and organizing the move. “And I want to get together with you and talk about the uniforms. On that long and lonely flight perhaps you can come up with some creative ideas? What do you think?”