Page 14 of Fireworks at Pennycress Inn
Picking up her knife and fork, Polly hovered them above her French toast. It smelt divine; it looked divine, and she could almost taste the cinnamonny sweetness already, but she wasn’t sure she could stomach eating it. Not after that conversation.
‘Sorry, I’m being nosey, aren’t I?’ Laura gave a quick smile. ‘Ignore me.’
‘No, no. Not at all.’ Polly placed her cutlery back down and brought her elbows to the table, cupping her chin in her hands. ‘I got some rubbish news about work, that’s all.’
‘Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.’ Lowering herself to the chair Zac had vacated moments earlier, Laura indicated Polly’s sweatshirt. ‘What is it you do? I’m guessing you work at the nature reserve?’
Glancing down at the trust’s oak tree emblem stitched in navy on her sweatshirt, Polly nodded. ‘Yes, I came here for the job of outreach and education officer and instead was given a role in fundraising and development. Not quite what I was expecting.’
‘Ah, I imagine that was a bit of a shock! Are you still taking the job?’ Laura picked up a slice of Zac’s discarded toast and bit into it, crumbs falling back to the plate.
‘Yes. I don’t really have a choice. I quit my teaching job to take this one.’ Polly nodded. ‘Besides, it’s been a dream of mine for years to work for the trust. But it’s not just that. I was promised a promotion, only it’s not as clear-cut as I’d been led to believe.’
Wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, Laura frowned. ‘It’s not?’
‘No. There’s another internal candidate. And then it’ll be advertised to the general public too.’ Polly looked down as the realisation hit her. She wasn’t going to get the promotion, was she? Zac had more relevant experience than her. He was charming – to everyone but her – and he was one of those people who always got what they wanted. He drove the expensive car, wore the tailored suits, and with his parents’ history with the trust… The job was his. It was bound to be. So why had Mr Bob even suggested it to her? Why would he have been so cruel as to get her hopes up? To make the process appear ‘fair’?
‘Aw, that’s rubbish.’ Reaching over the table, Laura rubbed Polly’s arm. ‘There’s nothing to say you can’t get it, though.’
Scrunching up her nose, Polly shrugged. ‘I think there probably is. I think I’m just the person to make it look like a fair competition. I don’t stand a chance.’
‘Sure you do. You wouldn’t have been put in the position to apply for it if your old boss or whoever it was who got you this job didn’t believe in you.’
‘I don’t know. I was a volunteer, this is my first proper job at the trust, whereas the other candidate has been working there already.’ She didn’t like to mention it was Zac who was the other candidate. Somehow, she felt she could deal with living under the same roof as him if no one here knew about the sudden rivalry that had been placed upon them.
‘Volunteers are worth their weight in gold. Don’t dismiss your chances because this is your first paid job with them. Someone has seen something special in you, and they believe you can do this.’ Laura leaned back in her chair. ‘From where I’m sitting, the only person who doesn’t believe in you is yourself.’
Picking up her fork, Polly stabbed at a piece of French toast. Maybe Laura was right. Polly had known Mr Bob for five years now, and he’d been nothing but kind to her. It wasn’t like him to play games. He wouldn’t mess with her life. Yes, he could be scatty and forgetful, to the point of probably thinking he had mentioned Zac coming here to Polly, but not malicious. ‘Maybe.’
‘Nope. Not maybe. Definitely. I know I’ve only just met you, but bosses don’t put in a good word for their employees if they don’t think they have every chance of getting the job. It’s not in their best interests.’
Nodding slowly, Polly took a shuddering breath in. ‘You don’t think I should give up?’
‘Absolutely not! You want this promotion, don’t you?’
‘I need this promotion.’
‘Then go for it. If you do your very best, then you won’t be left thinking “what if”.’ Laura took another bite of Zac’s toast.
‘That’s true.’ Laura was right. Polly had two choices. She could roll over, do the job she’d been given for these three months while she had free accommodation before quitting and going back to her grandparents’ flat and taking on another teaching job, or she could fight. She could fight for the future she craved; she could fight for her dreams. It would be tough, and she might not succeed. Heck, she probably wouldn’t, but at least she could tell herself that she’d tried.
Glancing behind her as the kitchen door opened, Laura stood up, Zac’s now empty plate in her hand. ‘I’d better go and seat the newcomers. Think about what I said though, won’t you?’
‘I will. Thank you.’ Polly nodded and picked up her cutlery again, this time actually cutting a square of French toast and popping it in her mouth. If she’d learned one thing from her grandparents, it was to try her best, and that’s what she’d do.
Watch out, Zac Sinclair. He may have the family backing, the money and the legacy behind him, but that didn’t mean she was going to hand over the chance of the promotion and leave quietly.
10
Placing a fresh mug of coffee on her desk, Polly pulled out the wheelie chair and sat down before glancing across at Zac’s desk. Where was he? He’d left Pennycress Inn almost half an hour before she had and yet he’d clearly not come straight into work. And he had a car. She’d had to navigate the bus timetable before almost missing the last bus before starting time. He had no excuse.
She shrugged as she picked up her mug and looked at the view in front of her. A small group of runners jogged along the winding path before the one at the back paused and peered behind her. What was she looking at? Leaning forward, Polly strained her neck to the left, searching for whatever the runner was gazing at. Two moments later, another runner hobbled along towards her, clutching her side.
Ah, stitch. And that was why Polly didn’t run. She remembered only too well the excruciating pain of a stitch from cross-country at school. Nope. Never again. They could keep their running, thank you very much.
‘Morning.’ Zac’s voice filled the office and Polly twisted in her chair. She frowned. It seemed his demeanour had turned a whole one eighty since the awkward conversation during breakfast. Gone was the slightly aloof Zac and here was an animated one, smiling and carrying two cup holders full of cardboard coffee takeout cups.
‘Ooh, have you really just bought us all coffee?’ Vicki rushed across the office towards him. ‘I could get used to this.’
