Page 44 of The Reboot
‘No shoes.’
‘Roly, even poor people have shoes.’
‘Yeah, but not ones like mine. All my shoes are really nice. I mean, they’re not going to give money to someone with Air Max 90s, are they?’
‘Yes, they are. Man cannot live on Air Max 90s alone.’
‘But I won’t look like I’m in need of money. I mean, it’s bad enough that I have this house…’
‘People still qualify for benefits, even if they own shoes and have somewhere to live.’
‘Okay.’ He nodded, but he looked dubious.
‘You don’t have to be completely destitute and homeless,’ she said, trying to drive the point home. ‘And you definitely don’t have to dress up as some … Dickensian orphan.’ She waved a hand at him. ‘Were you planning to smear some coal dust on your face too?’
‘Um … no. But I thought I might skip a shower.’ He raked a hand through his dishevelled hair. ‘You know … look a bit grungy.’
‘How much do you think shampoo costs?’
‘Well, my Abercrombie shower gel is pretty expensive…’
‘Roly, have a shower and just wear what you normally would. And put on some shoes.’
He sighed. ‘I have a pair of Vans that I might get away with. If the dude doesn’t know his footwear…’ he mumbled as he headed back towards his bedroom.
Ella finished her breakfast, and went to her room to get dressed. It was her first dress-up Friday, and she needed to work on her own outfit. As she came back downstairs, Roly was emerging from the living room carrying his Playstation.
‘I’m going to stash this under my bed,’ he said, heading for the stairs.
‘What? Why?’
‘I thought I should hide some of my stuff. I’ve put my iPad down the side of the sofa. He’ll never look there, will he?’
She couldn’t help laughing. ‘He’s not going to be searching the place, Roly. Just put everything back. And if you’re planning on tearing down curtains…’
‘I’m not! But I should probably get rid of some of the artwork. That painting over the fireplace cost me fourteen grand.’ He jerked his head back towards the living room.
‘Leave it,’ she said sternly.
‘Oh, what about food? There’s smoked salmon in the fridge.’
‘He’s not going to inspect the fridge.’ Ella glanced at her watch. ‘Look, I’ve got to go or I’ll be late. Just calm down and leave everything as it is. It’ll be fine.’
Ella glanced at the time on her computer screen. Two minutes to go until she could knock off for her eleven o’clock coffee break. Of course, there was nothing stopping her going right now – as everyone kept reminding her, there were no rigid rules at Citizens, no fixed times for having lunch or taking breaks. But she liked having some order in her life, and she had enough upheaval to deal with at the moment, what with her mother and Nora going away and adapting to her new living situation with Roly. So she’d imposed her own structure on her working day. She took a break away from her desk every morning at eleven and sat in one of the pods reading a book or chatted with whoever was in the break room if she was feeling sociable. In the afternoons, she varied her routine in keeping with the spirit of Citizens. She didn’t want to be a spoilsport, so she took her break at different times with studied breeziness or just had coffee at her desk and worked through.
It wasn’t officiallyherdesk, of course, because the staff of Citizens of the Wild roamed free like wildebeest in the vast Serengeti of their open plan office space, hot-desking wherever took their fancy before moving on to another location, lest staying in the one place too long stifled their creativity. But Ella had sat at this desk every day since she’d started. She liked feeling she had a place here that she could make her own.
‘Ella!’ She looked up to see Jake striding towards her. He was wearing a pink wig and a skin-tight catsuit, the chest padded out with fake boobs. Dress-up Fridays were going to take some getting used to.
‘How are you?’ He perched on the edge of her desk.
‘Good, thanks.’
‘We just want to have a little chat – Dylan and I. Is that okay?’
‘Yes, of course.’ She blinked up at him, bewildered. Was she in trouble for some reason? Had she done something wrong?
‘So, Ella, you’ve been here a month now,’ Jake said, hands clasped together. ‘How’s it going? Happy?’
