“Look on the bright side,” her father said as he got to his feet. “You didn’t get a rejection, so there’s still a chance you might get the job. Maybe the news will come tomorrow. You need to show some patience and wait.”
“Let’s hope so,” Brigitte said and changed the subject. “What are your plans for today?”
“I have a meeting this morning then I will be heading in to the office,” he told her. “I’ll see you this evening. I won’t be too late.”
She nodded her head and watched as he put on his suit jacket then left the kitchen. The sound of the door opening then closing a few minutes later showed that he’d gone and it left her alone in the house. She drank a couple of cups of coffee as she sat thinking and wondered if she should make a call to Mrs. Johnston.
“Show some patience,” she advised herself and decided to heed her father’s words about seeing what turned up in the mail the following day.
Getting up from the table, she went to wash the breakfast dishes then moved through to the lounge afterwards. Her only plan for that day was to help with one of her volunteer groups later in the afternoon and there were a few hours to kill before that. She switched on the television, but quickly got bored with it and went up to her bedroom. The book she was reading lay on the bedside table and she opened it to where she got to the night before then dropped down on the bed.
She was engrossed in the plot when the sound of the doorbell interrupted her around forty minutes later. The clock on the wall showed it was still before nine, and she wondered who was calling at such an early hour. There was only one way to find out and she was quick to get up and make her way down the stairs. She was conscious of being alone in the house and hooked the security chain in place before opening the door to look out. The woman standing there smiled.
“Can I help you?” Brigitte asked.
“You can if you’re Brigitte Sanderson,” the woman replied.
“That’s me.”
“You need to sign for this then,” the woman went on and held up an envelope.
The thought that the letter she was expecting would be sent by courier never entered her head, but her nervousness bubbled up when she realized that’s what the delivery was.
“Oh, hold on,” she said. “I need to unhook the chain.”
She didn’t wait for an answer before closing the door and loosening the security chain. It enabled her to open the door wide and the woman held out a digital clipboard. Brigitte accepted it to sign her name, handed it back when she was finished and got the letter.
“Enjoy the rest of your day,” the woman said before turning away to leave immediately.
Brigitte knew that whether she did or not depended on what she was about to read. Her hands trembled as she ripped the envelope open to pull out the letter inside. She unfolded it to start reading and the smile spread across her face within seconds.
“Yes!” she shouted and clenched her fist as the good news sank in that she’d been offered the job.
She walked to the kitchen and made herself a cup of coffee before sitting at the table to read through the letter again. The smile remained on her face while she perused the details a couple of times before closing her eyes. The satisfaction of being successful welled up and she took her time to drink the coffee before getting on with what she needed to do. She realized her cell phone was still up in her bedroom, so she walked through to the lounge to use the house phone.
“Deep breaths,” she urged herself as she picked up the handset and checked the number on the letter before dialing.
The ringing sounded in her ear a few times before the call was answered and she heard the smooth voice of a receptionist greeting her.
“Hi,” she replied. “Could I speak with Mrs. Johnston please? It’s Brigitte Sanderson.”
“Hold the line and I’ll put you through,” the receptionist said.
Brigitte heard the sound of music as she was put on hold and it was a short while before her call was transferred to the correct extension. The voice of the woman who interviewed her came on the line.
“You received the letter then.”
“The courier brought it a few minutes ago,” Brigitte replied.
“I hope you’re calling to accept the offer,” Mrs. Johnston said.
“Definitely,” Brigitte went on. “I wanted to say thanks as well and how much I’m looking forward to getting started.”
“That’s good to hear,” Mrs. Johnston replied. “Get here bright and early on Monday morning and ask for me. I’ll get you settled in and we can go through the details you need to provide for human resources and payroll. From there, I’ll take you to meet the person you’ll be working with.”
“Sure,” Brigitte agreed. “What time should I arrive?”
“Normal working hours are from nine until six, but if you can arrive by eight thirty on Monday, it will give us time to go through what’s needed.”
“I can do that.”
“Fine,” Mrs. Johnston said. “I’ll see you then and welcome on board.”
“Thanks,” Brigitte replied and replaced the handset in the cradle when the call ended.
Her shriek was loud when she stood up and she danced around the room for a few seconds before coming to a stop. She was bursting to tell someone the good news, but suspected her father might already be in his meeting and didn’t want to disturb him.
The only other person she really mentioned the job opportunity to was her friend, Sarah, on their recent night out. She decided to call her and picked up the phone then realized she couldn’t remember the full number off the top of her head. Walking out of the lounge, she went up to her bedroom to get her cellphone and brought the number up on the screen.
“It wasn’t my fault,” Sarah said when she answered the call.
“Huh?” Brigitte replied.
“You always phone to put the blame on me about something after one of our nights out,” Sarah went on and laughed. “I was simply getting my rebuttal in before the accusation hit me.”
“I do not,” Brigitte protested. “Well, not this time anyway. I was calling to invite you for lunch. It’s my treat.”
“Well, that’s an offer I can’t refuse. What’s the occasion?”
“I got the job,” Brigitte answered and laughed. “So, I thought I would celebrate on my last day of freedom before I join the corporate rat-race.”
“The one you mention the other night,” Sarah went on.
“Yes,” Brigitte replied. “I got the letter confirming the job was mine this morning.”
“Well done you,” Sarah congratulated her. “My lunch hour starts at one. Where are you taking me?”
“Umm…, meet me at Dimitri’s Café.”
“OK,” Sarah agreed. “I’ll see you at one.”
Brigitte lowered the phone from her ear when the call ended and picked up her book to start reading again. It proved difficult to concentrate though and she eventually gave up and decided to go into town. The next few hours were spent window shopping, and she was already sitting at a table in the café when Sarah walked in. She waved a hand at her friend.
“What do you want?” Brigitte asked.
“Latte and a ham salad sandwich,” Sarah replied.
Brigitte nodded her head and got up to walk to the serving counter and returned to the table a couple of minutes later carrying a tray. She set it down and Sarah picked up the latte to take a drink before speaking.
“So, you’ve finally grown up and joined the working world like the rest of us,” she teased.
Brigitte rolled her eyes as she bit into her sandwich and waited until she swallowed before responding to the cheeky remark.
“I’ve worked before.”
“Yeah, for your father,” Sarah went on. “That’s nepotism and doesn’t count. What is the job anyway? You didn’t say much about it on our night out, other than it was for the state government.”
“I’ll be trained as a counselor and working on a government reha
bilitation program,” Brigitte replied. “It means I can put to good use some of the things I learned during my years of studying social sciences.”
Sarah nodded her head and was quiet while she ate some of her sandwich.
“Who’s the program aimed at?” she asked when she lifted her cup. “I mean, who will you be rehabilitating?”
“Ex-cons,” Brigitte said.
Sarah spluttered as she dragged the cup away from her lips. She lifted a hand to wipe her mouth.
“You’re kidding me, right?”
“No,” Brigitte went on. “The program is aimed at helping recently released prisoners adjust to life on the outside. The intention is to keep them from re-offending.”
“Wow,” Sarah let out as she put her cup down.
“You don’t think I can do it?” Brigitte asked.
“I didn’t say that,” Sarah answered. “It’s not something I could see myself doing, mind you. I mean, what have these people been convicted of?”
Brigitte shrugged her shoulders.
“All sorts, I guess,” she said. “I suspect I’ll find out once I start the counseling work.”
“You don’t sound particularly worried about it.”
“I’m not,” Brigitte said. “The people on the program are those that want to change their lives and keep out of trouble. If I can help them do it, then great. I’ve worked with some ex-cons through one of the charities I volunteer with and they’re just like you and me.”
“If you say so,” Sarah said and a smile broke out on her face. “I can see some advantages though.”
“What do you mean?” Brigitte asked.
Sarah leaned in closer and kept her voice quiet.
“A bad boy coming out of prison,” she teased. “That’s a few years of pent up lust right there waiting to be released.”
“Shut up,” Brigitte let out and laughed. “Does everything come down to sex with you?”
“I’m just saying,” Sarah went on. “You might end up rehabilitating a rugged, handsome guy that’s only been able to pump weights to relieve his frustrations. Think of those rippling muscles. A slim, pretty blonde like you might drive him crazy with desire.”
Brigitte laughed louder.
“What are you like?” she said. “A minute ago you were spitting out coffee at the news I would be working with ex-cons and now you’re having fantasies about getting up close and personal with one.”
“Nothing wrong with fantasies,” Sarah said.
“Yeah…., and that’s exactly what they are,” Brigitte replied. “The aim of the program is to help people who’ve put their mistakes behind them move on to a better life.”
“I get that,” Sarah said. “I’m only pointing out the circumstances you might find yourself in. You’ll be dealing with men…”
“And women,” Brigitte pointed out.
“… with men who have endured a period of enforced celibacy,” Sarah went on with a grin. “It’s only natural what they’ll be interested in once that ends.”
Brigitte brought her hand up to cover her mouth as the thought came to her, but couldn’t resist saying the words.
“Yeah, well, I’ll try and keep my panties on.”
“I wouldn’t,” Sarah said and couldn’t hold in the giggling laugh.
“You always did have a problem with that,” Brigitte teased her friend.
Sarah feigned a shocked expression and then started laughing again. She lifted her cup and held it out.
“Congratulations on your new job,” she said. “I hope it works out for you.”
“Thank you,” Brigitte replied and touched her cup against Sarah’s before changing the subject. “So, did the man you were dancing with the other night get in touch after you gave him your phone number?”
Sarah nodded her head and Brigitte settled down to listen to another one of her friend’s outrageous dating stories. It made for an entertaining hour and they promised to get together again when they left the café to go their different ways.
Brigitte did some more window shopping to waste a couple of hours and made plans for what she would buy when her first paycheck came in. She eventually went to do her volunteer work and it was getting dark by the time she made her way home that evening. Her father was already there, so she gave him the good news and couldn’t help laughing when his first comment was a complaint that she didn’t call to tell him earlier. He went to open a bottle of wine as way of celebration and they sat chatting while they emptied it.
The rest of the weekend passed by quickly and Brigitte found herself engulfed in new job nerves when she woke up at seven o’clock on Monday morning. She got up straight away to shower, then went to her wardrobe afterwards. The only smart business outfit she owned was the suit she wore for the interview and she remembered fretting about the length of the skirt. Nothing was mentioned about her appearance by Mrs. Johnston during their discussions, so she decided to wear it again. When she was paid at the end of the month, she could buy an outfit with a longer skirt and it would give her an alternative if she needed it. She walked out of the bedroom when she was dressed to go downstairs and was drinking a glass of milk at the kitchen table when her father appeared.
“Well, look how smart you are,” he teased her. “Are you ready for your first day?”
“Scared and excited,” Brigitte admitted. She lifted the glass to take a drink then wiped away the milk mustache from her top lip.
“Do you need a ride?”
“No,” she replied. “I know where I’m going and might as well get used to making the trip on public transport.”
She watched her father move across the room and switch on the kettle. A few minutes later, he was sitting across from her drinking coffee and eating a bowl of cereal.
“When will you get home this evening?” he asked.
“Sometime after six,” she told him. “The start time in the morning is nine, but I was asked to go in early today to get some things sorted out.”
They carried on chatting for a few more minutes until Brigitte got up to wash her glass. She returned to the table to get her jacket and put it on, then slid a hand down the front of her skirt to smooth it into place.
“Is this too short?” she asked.
Her father moved his head from side to side as he stared then shrugged his shoulders.
“Not particularly,” he commented. “It’s not too different from the outfits some of the younger girls in my office wear. Why do you ask? Did someone say something?”
“Nope,” Brigitte answered. “I like it, but wanted a second opinion.”
“You look fine,” he said. “And good luck.”
“Thanks,” she replied and picked up her bag. “I’ll let you know how it goes when I get home tonight.”
He nodded his head, but said no more and she glanced at the wall clock to see it was now quarter to eight. She stepped out of the kitchen and walked to the front door to leave the house. Forty five minutes later, she approached the entrance to the state government building and was all too aware of the nervous tingling in her fingertips. It made her suck in a deep breath, then let it out slowly. Once inside the building, she walked straight to the reception desk.
“I’m here to see Mrs. Johnston,” she said. “Brigitte Sanderson.”
“OK,” the receptionist said. “Take a seat and I’ll let her know you’re here.”
Brigitte nodded and went to sit in the waiting area. The phone call the receptionist made was the start of a busy few hours. Mrs. Johnston came to the reception area to get her then took her through the procedures required for new employees. It ended with her sitting in the older woman’s office, with a shiny government ID card hanging around her neck and a raft of forms she needed to fill in for the human resources department.
“We still have to sort out your college attendance,” Mrs. Johnston said. “But that doesn’t need to be done right now. The course starts at the end of next month and you’ll be one of three new members of staff taking
part.”
“It’s one day a week, right?” Brigitte queried.
“That’s correct,” Mrs. Johnston informed her. “It’s usually a Wednesday and the course is held at the local community college. I’ll get the details of it to you before the end of the week.”
“OK,” Brigitte said.
“All that’s left now is to get you started working.”
Mr. Johnston got to her feet and Brigitte followed suit. The pair of them walked out of the room and the older woman led the way along a corridor to a nearby office. She knocked on the door and moved inside.
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