Taking Off

Chapter 8


 Following the Sunday during which she had weakened and given in to Charlene’s pressure, Katie had a quiet week. Her determination to both save money and remain sober meant that she stayed in each night. Mel talked about getting divorced and debated with herself the legalities involved for refusing parental visits to Frank once their separation would be finalised. Once, Katie’s mobile rang when Mel explained she would rather be a single mother than Frank’s wife. Katie flicked open her phone but the look on her friend’s face froze her and she closed it without pressing the pick-up button. Later, once Mel and her son had retreated to their makeshift bed, Katie listened to the short message from

Aurélie on her voicemail. She did call that number several times over the next couple of days but, after talking to a string of foreigners with variable levels of English, she gave up.
By Wednesday night, Mel had forgiven Frank’s extra marital affair once more and had left Katie‘s flat.

On Thursday, one of the biggest real estate American investor arrived in London and picked Marlow & Davies Estate to extend his portfolio. Elaine and Steven ushered him into a meeting room and requested food and drinks. Katie ran out to Marks and Spencer to buy various snacks and made several trips to Starbucks for coffee. Between her various errands, she browsed the internet in search of part-time work. Her mobile rang as Steven popped his head out of the meeting room and ordered her to fetch some ginger cookies. She sighed and put her jacket on. Once outside, she listened to yet another message from

Aurélie as she walked up the street and turned left into Oxford Street, towards Selfridges.

Later in the afternoon, Katie received another call and as both Steven and Elaine had disappeared to show properties to the American client, she answered her phone.
“Hello, is this Katie?” Aurélie asked.
“Yes. Hi Aurélie. How are things?”

“I am very well, thank you. Did you get my message I left with your girlfriend Mel?”

“No.” Katie rolled back and forth the corner of the post-it in front of her until it wouldn’t stay flat anymore. She then proceeded with doing the same to the one stuck on her keyboard.

“You didn’t?”

“No. She’s not my girlfriend by the way.”

“I got a job. I’m working at Seven Towers Hotel, in Marble Arch.”

“I’m glad things are working out for one of us at least.”

“Is it not going well for you?”

“Not so much.” Katie stood up and walked to the alleyway at the side of the building.

“Why not?”

“Money. I need a second job.”

“I might be able to help actually. They have quite a lot of temporary and part time staff here.”

“I’ve never worked in a hotel before.” As Katie paced up and down the few yards tucked away between the two entrance gates, she kicked an empty can into the far corner. People always threw their rubbish there despite the new bin installed the previous month.

“I’m sure you can do it. Maybe you could work with me, that would be fun!”

“Is there an opening?”

“People come and go all the time so John, he’s my manager, he’s always looking.”

“Should I send him a CV?”

“The best is I give you his phone number. Tell him you know me, we get on well.”

Katie called John as soon as she finished her conversation with Aurélie. She got put on hold and had to listen to the same one minute loop of music for almost half an hour. Once in a while, a woman interrupted, enquired if she still wanted to talk to John and sighed heavily as she confirmed that she did. After a confusing introduction during which he mistook her for another Katie who used to work for him, he suggested to go through her CV on the phone. He seemed satisfied with her customer service experience acquired when she worked as a shop assistant and described her one of the positions currently available. The hourly rate was a couple of pounds higher than she expected so she asked to be considered for the evening shift. He read her the full duties of the job, which included a starting time at five o‘clock.

“Five o ‘clock? That’s a slight problem, I don’t think I could make it until five thirty.”

“You don’t decide on the hours, I do. You’d have to be here at 5.”

“I understand. But would it be possible for me to start half an hour later and finish half an hour later?”

“No, you don’t get to make up your own shift. So, can you?”

“I’d have to ask-”

“If you can’t, then don’t waste my time.”

John had hung up but Katie still held her phone in her hand when Daniel walked back in from a site meeting and pretended to knock off her mobile.

“Hey you!” Katie shouted.

“Chill. I’ve not touched it.”

“Don’t you dare.”

“Someone is in a mood today. They’ve been keeping you busy?”

“Yes, them, all of them.” Katie drew with her arm a big circle in the air around her. “Why is everybody so rude in this place?”

“Stress, darling, big money equals stress.”

“I don’t mean here, I mean in London.”

“Same story. Big money, lack of money. It‘s the same. It‘s all about money.”

“Tell me about it.”

***

Katie threw herself into the task at hand and, over the next two weeks, she sent her CV to twenty one restaurants and pubs and she filled in eight job application forms. A handful of people implied she had been short listed but more than five days passed without hearing from them. All her hard work came down to one interview squeezed in at noon on the Friday before the summer bank holiday. As office workers fled to the pubs for a liquid lunch, Katie changed into her smartest white blouse and made her way to Al Fresco, a small Italian restaurant on Drury Lane.

A short chubby man greeted her into his office. The air conditioning blew on full blast and Katie shivered as pearls of sweat fell off the man’s forehead.

 

“Are you cold?”, he asked, then proceeded on talking without waiting for an answer. “Mark couldn’t make it so I will be interviewing you instead of him. He left me a list so I’ll go through it, if you don’t mind”

The interview lasted fifty minutes. Katie and the man, who never introduced himself, chatted about food and table manners. They agreed on most things and shared cooking stories. Sure, she admitted she had no experience in waitressing but they got on so well that she left the restaurant certain she had a good shot at landing the job.
When Katie came back to the office, she found a man, dressed in a sharp black suit and wearing sunglasses, perched on her desk. He didn’t move as she sat down and grabbed her mouse inches way from him. A similar looking man, albeit with grey hair, barked orders at him from across the room. Both men had laptops and typed too fast for Katie to decipher the words. She cleared her throat a couple of times but nobody noticed her. Daniel, stood next to the copy machine, avoided her eyes and Elaine looked over her head as she passed by. Then, Steven appeared at his office door and nodded. They all went to the meeting room, clutching files and papers and notebooks in their arms, leaving Katie on her own with no explanation, not even from Daniel. She glanced at the clock. Two thirty five. She searched through the pile of magazines in her drawer and opened up a six months old copy of Modern Pilot. Each time a sound escaped from the meeting room, she looked up expecting a request for coffee and tea, something for her to do. Once, Elaine came out, walked to the kitchen, helped herself to a glass of water and returned to the room without acknowledging her. At five o’clock, everybody still locked away in that meeting room, she switched off her computer and left.

***

Katie arrived at Fiona’s shortly before eight. A few guests had preceded her and Jo tended to the barbecue. Fiona introduced Katie to three of her colleagues who stood by the French windows.

“I believe we have met before”, one of the women said.

“We have, haven’t we? Was it at your Christmas party last year?”

“I think it was. I’m awfully sorry but I have forgotten your name.”

“And me yours.” Katie rubbed her forehead.

“I don’t feel so bad then.”

“I’m Katie.”

“Helen.” Helen gave Katie a firm handshake. As she pulled her hand away, her little finger brushed Katie’s palm. Katie leant on the counter behind Helen and crossed her right leg over her left, the heel of her foot tapping against the cupboard.

“Are you a lawyer too?” Katie asked.

“No, I’m not actually. I’m the head of finance. What do you do?”

“I work for an estate agent.”

“Do you? It’s a… I mean… they are… it’s a tough world.” Helen laughed.

“The most hated profession, I know. I do admin work so it doesn’t really concern me.”

“It does. I mean, it could reflect badly on you.”

“I guess it could.”

Helen’s two colleagues and Fiona joined Jo outside, leaving Helen and Katie on their own in the kitchen. Helen stretched herself, showing off the curve of her back through her fitted hoodie, and smiled as Katie’s eyes darted away from her.

“So, where do you live?”

“Highgate,” Helen said.

“Up north?”

“Yes, on the northern line.”

“Never been there. Where do you go out locally?”

Black Tail, Fiona’s cat, came through the flap and Katie bent forward to stroke it.

“Hello Black Tail. What do you want? I think you should go steal some food from the barbecue.”

Black Tail purred and rubbed its head against Katie’s leg.

“He’s so cute, isn’t he?”

“I’m not too keen on cats. I’m allergic,” Helen said.

“Are you? I’m so sorry, I didn’t know. I’ll get him out if you want.”

“Thank you, but you don’t have to.”

“I insist.”

When Katie returned from the garden, Helen had gone. Katie called out for her. Silence. She checked the bathroom. Empty. She checked the front room. Empty. She went back to the garden. Full but no Helen. She checked the second toilet. Empty. Helen had left.

Katie sat down on the steps in the upstairs hallway and closed her eyes. She hadn’t believed she could pursue Helen but the mild flirting had excited her. After such a depressing afternoon in the office, a little dreaming did not harm. Katie opened her eyes and blushed when she saw Helen standing in front of her, her belt half undone.

“I’ve been waiting for you, “ Helen said.

“What? Where? I thought you were gone. Where were you?”

“In the only room with a bed. Come.” Helen took Katie’s hand, lifted her up and lead the way to Fiona & Jo’s bedroom. She shut the door behind them.

“What are you doing? We can’t.”

“We shall see.” Helen unzipped her top, keeping her face half an inch away from Katie’s, maintaining eye contact all the time. Their lips parted, their tongues met and Katie dropped her arms to Helen’s waist. In silence, they laid down on the bed and Helen slid her hand inside Katie’s jeans and began stroking her. Katie’s mobile phone buzzed.

“I’m sorry, I have to get this.”

Katie didn’t answer her phone fast enough but the man who had interviewed her had left a message. He feared she lacked experience for the restaurant but he could offer her two evening shifts at the bar, at a starting rate of six pounds fifty. By the time Katie took it all in, Helen had fled the room. Katie buckled her belt, picked up her cardigan and went back to the heart of the party, the garden. There, she found Helen in full conversation with another woman. Katie waved at her but Helen turned around and moved closer to her new companion.

“Helen is terrible,” Fiona said. “I can’t believe she’s flirting with Sasha, Sasha is married.”

“She’s a slut,” Katie said.

“No, she’s not. She’s going through a rough patch with her husband, she normally doesn’t-”

“I meant Helen.”

“I’m guessing Sasha hasn’t told her about the married bit, Helen wouldn‘t do it if she knew.”

Katie snorted. “Are you kidding? I’ve seen her operate before, she’s a predator.”

“Do I sense a little jealousy here?”

“No way.”

“She’s not worth it. She’s a lousy shag anyway.” Fiona yawned to demonstrate her point.

“And how would you know?”

“Slept with her ages ago, in the before-Jo time.”

“She’s improved since then. I was about to come when-”

“Pardon?”

Katie grimaced.

“I said, pardon?”

“Pretend I said nothing?”

“How could I? Come on, spill it out.”

“Not here, not now.” Katie pointed at Sasha, and Jo, and Allison, a woman with whom she had shared a week long romance a few years before.

“You’ll tell later, promise?”

“Promise.”

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