Page 61 of The Secret We Keep
What started out as a plethora of jumbled nonsense, transformed into raw, unbridled emotion. Nobody will ever read it, but I felt every word I got down, even those that weren’t clear to me.
After today, I plan on taking Kevin for a walk to the oak tree and getting some more writing done. My creativity is spiked, and I can’t let it slip away.
Inside the modern office on the main high street, I walk to the receptionist and introduce myself. Fortunately, the lady behind the desk remembers me and kindly shows me to Mr Caldwell’s office.
Just like the last time I was in here; I immediately want to leave. It’s so dull, and the sound of his slow, drawn-out tone isn’t helping. I have to fight off a yawn when he begins with my formal induction.
It’s nearly a whole hour later before I’m able to grab some coffee. Chucking it down, I immediately pour myself another.
“Go steady, it’s all about pacing yourself.”
A shy smile graces my face as Sarah pours herself a mug. We met when I was being shown around. As it turns out, her desk is next to mine. She’s the same age as me, I think, with bobbed, glossy champagne hair. One of the perks of this particular office is that regularclothes are permitted, provided they’re sensible. Safe to say that Sarah is the embodiment of the word, with black suit trousers, a shirt and matching blazer.
“I feel underdressed.” I assess my Converse, baggy black jeans, and tucked in jumper.
“Don’t sweat it.” Sarah opens the fridge and pulls out the milk. “You look great.”
“I appreciate you being nice to me because I’m new.”
She chuckles under her breath, leaning against the counter the same as me. “I think the words you’re looking for are thank and you. But seriously, take a look around this place.” She does a quick lift of her chin while I scold myself internally for being rude. “Everyone in this office is pushing fifty or looks like they hate their lives.”
I look around swiftly, realising she’s right.
“I’m being nice to you because I finally have someone to talk to. Unless you’d rather I leave you alone and get back to my desk? Because I get told that I talk too much all the time.”
“No, no,” I stammer, rapidly drawing the conclusion that it’s probably wise to be sociable, even though I haven’t done this in so long. “I appreciate you talking to me. I’m sorry for assuming anything. Honestly, I’m grateful.”
Her cheeks lift. “Come on,” Sarah says, and I follow her to sit at my desk beside hers. “Have you been shown the system yet?”
I nod, but I’ve already forgotten how to use it.
Sarah flicks her hand away, gesturing at me not to worry. “It’s easy to forget. I have it written down so that I remember.”
She passes me a Post-it note which I press to the front of my computer screen. I stare at it before asking, “What’s next?”
“We take calls. Make them. Then we’ll get more coffee and work out why, of all the places you could choose to work, you chose here.”
I sag into my chair. “That’s easy. Because my dad got me the interview and accepted on my behalf.”
“Oh, shit.” Sarah’s eyes widen.
“Yeah.”
Tapping the buttons on her keyboard, she logs into her emails. “You need help getting into yours?”
“I don’t know,” I reply, working the mouse to where I want it to go.
Sarah watches me with an amused grin. “You know, it helps if you’re quick with a computer. Some customers don’t like it when we blame the system for going slowly.”
I manage to click what I want to, then look her way with a deadpan expression.
She lifts a hand to her mouth and quickly looks away.
“So, why of all the places you could choose to work did you choose here?” I ask, repeating her question.
She spins a picture frame on her desk so that I can see. It’s of Mr Caldwell and her standing side by side. “For the same reason as you.”
My eyes jump to and fro, seeing their similarities. “Mr Caldwell’s your father?”
