by Nina Kaye
I’m shocked into silence. I’m also immediately transported back a decade to a time when I was hanging on by a shoestring financially, terrified I was going to have to pack in uni and go home. He may be blunt and awkward, but it was Aaron who helped me out of that hole. This is like déjà vu. And, much as I’d rather chew my own arm off than accept charity from him again, if he helped me then, maybe, by some miracle, he can help me again. It’s not like I have any other options.
While Aaron’s up at the counter, I have a bit of wobble at the idea of having to bare everything. I consider doing a runner – electrical storm or not. But before I know it, Aaron’s back with a tray of hot drinks. He puts it down on the table and places another cappuccino in front of me. I cast aside the cold one I haven’t touched and take a comforting sip of the hot drink. The bitterness of the coffee combined with the sweetness of the froth is surprisingly satisfying – and makes me realise I’m starving after having eaten nothing all day. Despite my clothes still being damp and my feet freezing, it has the instant effect of warming me through.
‘I got you a cake. Thought it might cheer you up.’ Aaron puts a plate beside me with a maple pecan brioche on it; my favourite, but he couldn’t possibly know that.
‘Err… thanks, Aaron. There was no need.’
‘I know there wasn’t.’ He offers me another crooked grin. ‘But it works with my daughter, so I thought I’d give it a try.’
‘How old is your daughter?’
‘She’s three.’
Great, so in his eyes, I’ve now regressed beyond even my uni years, and reached toddler status.
‘That’s lovely,’ I say automatically. ‘Where are you working now yourself?’
‘The Mayfield Hotel. I’m the General Manager there. Now, back to you.’
‘Wow, that’s an incredible hotel.’ I’m genuinely impressed. ‘Five star, isn’t it? Won UK luxury hotel of the year last year?’
‘Correct. On both counts. Liv, do you want to do this the easy way or the hard way?’
‘I don’t know what you—’
‘You know exactly what I mean.’ Aaron takes his black thick-rimmed glasses off and wipes the condensation from them. ‘You’ve not changed a bit.’
‘Funny. Dylan says the opposite.’
‘So, he does exist, this Dylan?’
‘Of course, he exists.’ I look at Aaron like he’s mad.
‘That’s good. At least you’re not at the stage of creating an imaginary friend.’
It’s meant as a joke, but Aaron’s stiffness causes it to sound a little cutting. I flinch, feeling a little wounded.
‘So, come on, what’s happened?’ Aaron prompts me again.
I realise there’s no getting out of this, and if he can help me get my career back on track, I’m hardly in a position to refuse that.
‘OK, here goes…’
I fill Aaron in on the events of the last three and a bit months, feeling nothing but a crushing sense of humiliation. He listens intently, his face giving nothing away. To add to my discomfort, he doesn’t even put in the natural ‘poor yous’ and ‘I’m so sorry to hear thats’ which, although demeaning, at least show a sense of empathy and concern. He stays silent, prompting me only with a nod and facial cue each time I wilt in unbearable shame and misery.
Once I’m finished, he sits thoughtfully for a few minutes without saying anything. I play with the foam on my cappuccino awkwardly.
‘Right, first things first,’ Aaron announces eventually. ‘From what you’ve told me, you haven’t done anything wrong. Unfortunately, you do appear to have fallen victim to a ruthless corporate culture, political outmanoeuvring and a difficult job market…’
‘OK… if you put it that way, it doesn’t sound so bad.’ I laugh weakly.
He regards me quizzically, one eyebrow slightly raised. This has the effect of instantly wiping the sheepish smile off my face.
‘It is bad, Liv,’ Aaron continues. ‘And though I used the word victim, you can’t afford to act like one.’
‘Ouch.’ I screw up my face, then set it straight back to neutral when I see the look that earns me from Aaron.
‘I’m serious, Liv.’
‘I know, I know. I’m sorry. I’m just finding this all so difficult.’ I sit up straight and give Aaron my undivided attention.
‘So, what’s most important,’ says Aaron, ‘more so at this stage than rescuing your career, is keeping you afloat financially…’
I nod along obediently, then realise he’s expecting me to respond.
‘Oh, yeah, totally,’ I lie, when in fact I have no idea of my financial position. ‘I got a pay-out when I left.’
‘Good.’ He nods, sipping his americano. ‘Glad to hear you have a financial cushion. That means that you only have the career issue to deal with – for now. Just make sure you don’t let money problems creep up on you as well. You of all people know from experience how quickly that can spiral out of control.’
‘Of course.’ I wave my hand dismissively, but make a mental note to check my bank balance when I get home.
‘So, on the job front…’ Aaron eyes me, and it’s clear he’s not fully convinced by my bluff. ‘I can’t offer you anything in your field. But I could put a word in with Head Office, send across your CV to them. All our PR and communications roles are based there, and although I know there are no vacancies at the moment, something might come up. Staff turnover in the hotel industry is high.’
‘Wow, thanks, Aaron.’ It’s not a concrete lead, but the gesture and vote of confidence from him are so welcome at this stage. ‘I’d so appreciate that. Working for a luxury hotel brand would definitely be a great way of getting my CV back on track.’
‘It certainly would,’ he agrees. ‘I also wonder, to keep you in the black, as well as keeping a sense of routine and purpose, would you be interested in coming to work in the hotel temporarily? It would mean that you’d have a foot in the door and be making a name for yourself. Any role at Head Office that comes up would be advertised internally first, meaning you’d jump the queue so to speak – and be in early against the competition.’
‘Oh, right. Err… what did you have in mind?’ I know instantly that I’m not going to be filled with enthusiasm by what I’m about to hear.
‘I don’t have much by way of vacancies right now – there are plenty of casual workers around – but I do need an extra pair of hands in one of the bars.’
‘Bar work?’ I’m taken aback.
‘Yes,’ says Aaron. ‘It’s very busy and I’m about to lose a couple of part-time staff who are moving on. You could plug the gap for now?’
I take a moment to consider Aaron’s suggestion. It’s a kind offer and I can see some sense in what he’s saying, but this isn’t something I can do. I can’t afford to divert my energy away from my job hunt; even if it is only temporary. And would it just be that? It feels like it would be a big step backwards. What if taking him up on his offer inadvertently ended up throwing off my career plan? Long, unsociable hours wouldn’t mix well with trying to retain a sense of routine for the sake of interviews and job searching. I know this from experience, from the days of trying to juggle coursework on top of working thirty hours a week in the restaurant of the Old Town Hotel. I realise I need to play this very carefully. Aaron putting a good word in for me at their Head Office could be the key to my next positive career move, so I must avoid offending him.
‘Right… wow.’ I glug at my cappuccino, stalling for time. ‘Aaron, that’s quite an offer. Thank you. I think perhaps it’s best if I keep my focus on my job hunt for now. Anything else would be a distraction.’
‘You could just do a few nights a week.’ Aaron is eyeing me again. ‘That would still allow you plenty of time for your job hunt. Would keep days free for interviews as well.’
‘Yes, yes it would.’ I nod slowly, while trying to think of something to bolster my excuse. ‘But… I think Dylan said that there was some temping work going at his offi
ce if I needed some extra cash. Would probably be more suited to my skills, you know.’
‘Did he now?’ Aaron’s tone is deliberate as he takes his glasses off, and starts to polish them absent-mindedly. ‘Useful guy, this Dylan.’
I squirm a little in my seat.
‘That’s fine, Liv.’ Aaron puts his glasses back on and locks eyes with me. ‘Thought I’d make the offer. Just watch that stubborn pride of yours.’
‘It’s not that, honestly, it’s that Dylan—’
‘I know. You said.’ Aaron throws back the last of his coffee and gets up to leave. ‘Here’s my card. Send me your CV and I’ll forward it to Head Office.’
‘Great, I’ll do that.’ I take the business card from him. ‘Thanks again, Aaron.’
‘Nice to see you, Liv. And good luck with your temping.’ He gives me a knowing look and sweeps out of the café.
Chapter 5
‘You did what?’ Dylan aggressively stubs out his roll-up and stares at me in disbelief.
‘I politely declined his offer,’ I repeat.
‘Politely or not, what the bloody hell were you thinking, Squirt? The guy offers you a job and you turn him down? Now what’s he going to think of you?’
‘Don’t worry, I also told him I had another temporary option.’ I conveniently omit the fact that Aaron saw right through my fib.
‘But you don’t have another option.’ Dylan stares at me incredulously. ‘You don’t have any options, Liv.’
‘I don’t need you to remind me of that,’ I huff, as we make our way back inside my apartment from the balcony. ‘I’m perfectly aware of my situation.’
‘Are you though? Are you really? ’Cause from where I’m sitting, it looks like you’re living in bloody la-la land.’
‘That’s not fair,’ I protest. ‘I’ve applied for loads of jobs. I’ve just been unlucky. Aaron even said so himself.’
‘Yeah, you have.’ Dylan helps himself to a beer from the fridge. ‘All the more reason to take an opportunity when it’s offered to you. When you gonna wake up?’
‘Dylan, I can’t take a bar job.’ I slump on the couch and put my hands on my head in frustration. ‘It’s such a step back.’
‘Will you listen to yourself?’ Dylan shakes his head as he sits down. ‘If you’re not careful you’re gonna turn into a right snob – that’s if you haven’t already.’
‘Hey, that’s harsh!’ I feel wounded, my usual resilience letting me down once again. ‘I just mean I don’t want to undo all the hard work I put in to building my career.’
‘Sorry,’ Dylan mutters. ‘Obviously I didn’t mean that. But you really do need to wake up. You told me your pay-out on leaving your job wasn’t up to much. How are you affording all this?’
‘It’s fine. I’m fine.’ I start to redden.
‘Have you even looked at your finances?’
‘Well, no.’ I screw up my nose. ‘But I’ll be all right.’
‘Are you serious? You have no idea at all.’ Dylan’s face is incredulous once again.
‘I was going to take a look in the next few days. Aaron made me realise I should probably do that.’
‘Do it now.’
‘What? No. I’m not doing it now. Let’s just have a chilled evening.’ I close my eyes and start to massage my temples to labour the point. ‘It’s been a long day.’
‘I don’t care. You need to do it now,’ Dylan persists.
‘Dylan, no. You can’t throw instructions around like that. I’m going to—’
‘I don’t believe you.’ He takes a frustrated swig from his beer. ‘You’re in total denial. If you don’t do it now, while I’m here, you won’t do it at all. And you’ll only discover the mess you’re in when it’s too late.’
‘You sound like Aaron.’ I sit up and survey Dylan in irritation. ‘You two are—’
‘What? Caring about you? Trying to look out for you? Someone’s got to. ’Cause you’re not doing a good job. Seriously. I’m not leaving till you’ve figured out where you’re at cash-flow-wise. If you don’t start now, I’ll take off my sweaty trainers and stick your face in them – just like I used to.’
‘Oh, Dylan, you are disgusting!’ I wail. ‘Fine! I’ll go and take a look if it will shut you up.’
‘Good decision.’ Dylan sits back on the couch, satisfied, and switches on Sky Sports. ‘I’ll be here when you’re done.’
Two hours later, I’m sitting at the large oak desk in my spare room, drowning in a sea of bills and credit card statements, my head in my hands once again.
This is so much worse than I thought. I realised I wouldn’t have an endless supply of cash to keep me going, but I thought it would last longer than this. I was still living on a salary for the first five weeks after leaving McArthur Cohen. So my pay-out has only actually been covering me financially for less than two months. I also thought I had way more savings, and I’ve completely overlooked a couple of credit cards, each with several hundred pounds on them. The true picture: I’m in the eye of a financial shitstorm, and the devastation is not far away.
‘How you getting on?’ Dylan appears at the door. ‘Football’s finished.’
‘Err… oh, fine. Yeah, it’s totally fine.’
I look up at him. He sees through me immediately.
‘What’s the damage?’ He sighs as he sits down on the dark blue sofa bed behind me. ‘And be honest. I don’t want any of your usual bullshit.’
I really don’t want to tell him. Saying the words out loud will make it all the more real, but I know I don’t have a choice.
‘Well… the summary is, if I keep spending at the rate I am currently, I have enough to cover this month and next, and then I’m out.’
Dylan lets out a low whistle. ‘That’s bad.’
‘Tell me about it.’
‘Think you might need to consider that Lidl gin after all.’
We look at each other and laugh weakly, then Dylan pats the sofa beside him.
‘Come and take me through it. And bring a pen and paper. I might not be a corporate hotshot like you, but I’m good at admin and I know my way around budget spreadsheets. Plus, I keep on top of my spending, unlike you.’
‘I didn’t need to keep on top of my spending with the job I had. My salary was…’ I trail off, realising I sound pathetic and irresponsible.
Plus, there’s no point in arguing: two heads are probably better than one to solve this most recent disaster. I obediently plonk myself down next to Dylan, laptop, notepad and pen in hand. He takes my laptop from me and I walk him through my financial expenditure and outgoings.
‘OK, Squirt.’ He says after a while. ‘There’s possibly a way to buy you a bit more time, but it’s gonna mean giving up some of your poncey shit, among other things.’
‘Fine.’ I wave my hand. ‘Name it. I’m too far up the creek to object.’
‘All right. For starters, there’s no way you need that much a month for new clothes – especially when you’re not even working just now. Zero that figure – just till you get a job. Go through that ridiculous wardrobe of yours and make the most of what you’ve already got. I could also sell some of your best designer labels on eBay if you want. You’d get a bit for them.’
‘Hmmm… we’ll see.’ I write a note about cutting out my clothing budget, and at the same time mentally cross the eBay idea off my list.
‘Next thing,’ says Dylan. ‘Cut your social budget by three-quarters. That’s another low priority for you right now. I can’t believe you’ve been spending that much while out of work.’
‘To be honest, I probably haven’t.’ I sigh, making another entry in my notepad. ‘Not in the last month or so. I haven’t been out much. It was just a ballpark figure.’
‘How come you haven’t been out?’ Dylan looks at me suddenly. ‘That’s not like you. And I’m willing to bet it’s not been out of a sense of financial responsibility.’
‘It’s nothing. Just forget it.’
‘Spit it o
ut,’ he instructs me. ‘I hope Angina and the rest of the crew haven’t ditched you.’
‘It’s ANYA!’ I give him a frustrated look. ‘And no, they haven’t ditched me. They didn’t need to. It’s not been the same since I left. All they talk about is work stuff, and being out of work, I can’t join in the way I used to. Also, I… umm… kind of told them I had a fabulous new job.’
‘What? Why did you do that?’
I doodle on the notebook in front of me, too embarrassed to look up at him.
‘About six weeks ago, I just snapped. I was so fed up with my friends constantly asking if I had a job: trying to give me advice, like that’s the only thing in my world that matters. I was sick of hearing stories about other people who’d found themselves in my “situation”. It was totally humiliating. So, one night I just told them I had an amazing new job. They were all so impressed. It was great to feel validated. Like I was properly one of them again.’
‘OK, first—’ Dylan looks at me as if I’m crazy ‘—you don’t have to justify yourself to anyone. Especially not a bunch of poncey arseholes. Second, what you gonna do when they find out you lied? Where did you say your new job was?’
‘I didn’t.’ I shrug. ‘I said that I couldn’t say right now, because of political sensitivities in the company I was joining. I haven’t been out with them since. And Anya’s so preoccupied with Tom, I’ve barely heard from her. I figured it wouldn’t be long before a job came along that could dovetail nicely with my story…’
‘But it hasn’t worked out that way.’ Dylan finishes my sentence. ‘Funny that.’
‘I don’t need you to take the piss.’ I purse my lips.
‘You can hardly blame me.’ Dylan shakes his head. ‘The lengths you go to “fit in”. They don’t sound like particularly good friends to me. Not that I ever thought they were.’
‘They are,’ I protest. ‘They’re great friends. It’ll be fine. I’ve just got myself in a bit of a sticky position. Once I’m out of it and sorted with a new job, I’ll be able to get back to normal with them. I’ve created this problem myself.’