The Ascendant

Chapter Six

I was back in my room, staring at the television screen. A documentary enthused about cheese making or something but my mind was racing elsewhere.

It all seemed too basic, too easy, and the timing was completely absurd. I just couldn’t take it in. No longer was I concerned about the possibility of a set up – it was highly unlikely they would waste their time trying to nail someone who could easily have been ejected as a time waster in the first instance. The only way I could possibly have blown it was by coming across badly during the telephone conversation today  – as I inevitably did ...

I laid back on my bed and studied the patterns of damp which decorated the ceiling. Why did she have to call when I was sat on the toilet? I must have sounded confused and emotional, probably much more so than the average Joe who merely wants to act keen to land a new opportunity. And then there was that twat who pulled the chain ...

I sat back up, bolt upright. Lying down to relax was clearly not working: I had to do something to occupy my mind, hands, anything. I swung my legs round to the side of my bed, stood up and grabbed the kettle. You never had to walk too far in this room of mine – in fact sometimes it wasn’t possible to walk at all. I switched the kettle on and grabbed the coffee jar. Two scoops ought to be enough to distract my mind for a few minutes at least. Fear and excitement: what if today’s telephone call comes to nothing; and what if it does?

I poured the water into the mug. Half of the coffee granules floated to the surface in a tar-like scum and I gave it a quick stir.

I couldn’t afford to take anything for granted; nor did I wish to contemplate my meeting with Jane and the personnel manager. And I hadn’t even considered who I should ask to witness the humiliating event.

I needed that job offer in writing, I had to know it was real. In fact, I needed it more than I’d ever needed anything else. Even at this stage, it could all become a terrible tease. As they used to say on some insufferable TV show back in the 80s, “Let’s have a look at what you could have won.”

I sat back down on my bed and looked at the television. Were they still talking about cheese? No, it was the news. A politician was pontificating about something or other, but I was fairly sure it wasn’t cheese. I took a slurp of my coffee, which was still piping hot and damned strong. It was going to be a long night, but there had never been much prospect of getting any sleep. So I figured I’d stick with the coffee. There ought to be enough left in the jar to sustain the static hours ahead.

Busying my hands, I flicked the switch on the kettle once more as my thoughts turned to the postman and tomorrow morning.