Chapter 12
Over the next couple of weeks, Ella and Roly settled into a routine.
They started running together on alternate mornings, and Ella was surprised to discover she enjoyed it.
She didn’t put any pressure on herself to keep up with Roly, just going at her own pace and focusing on building up her stamina.
She was pleased with the progress she was making.
She could feel herself getting stronger and fitter each day.
They shared the cooking between them and ate together in the evenings, taking turns to try out new low-carb recipes and experimenting with intermittent fasting and time-restricted eating.
Roly had applied for benefits, as promised, and was going through the screening process while spending his days writing songs.
He had committed to working on his music for at least four hours each day with the aim of finishing a new song every week.
On non-running days, Roly tended to get up later and exercise after Ella had gone to work. So she was surprised to hear him up and about early one Friday morning as she ate her breakfast, still in her dressing gown.
‘What are you doing up so early?’ she asked when he shuffled into the kitchen.
‘I’ve got that social welfare inspector coming this morning,’ he said, his voice still thick with sleep.
‘I thought he wasn’t coming until twelve?’
‘He’s not. But I need to get ready.’ He yawned, rubbing his hair, further tousling his bed head. ‘I want to make the right impression. I have to decide what to wear and sort this place out.’
Ella thought it was sweet how anxious Roly was about the welfare inspector’s visit.
‘So I wanted to catch you before you went to work, to get your opinion.’ He stood in front of her, and held his arms out wide. ‘What do you think?’
‘Of?’
‘My outfit.’
‘Oh! Would you call it an outfit? I thought you just got out of bed.’
He looked down at himself, plucking at the grubby grey joggers he was wearing. His feet were bare and his off-white T-shirt looked two sizes too small and had a hole under one arm.
Ella put down her spoon and gave him her full attention. ‘This is what you’re planning to wear when the inspector comes?’
He shrugged. ‘It was the best I could come up with.’
‘Seriously? I mean, what look are we going for here?’
‘Poor, obviously.’
‘If you mean poor as in weak effort, you’ve nailed it.’ She looked him up and down. ‘What shoes are you planning to wear?’
‘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 officially her desk, 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?’
‘Yes. Very happy.’
‘If you have any problems or concerns, you know you can always talk to me or Dylan.’
She nodded. ‘Thanks. But I don’t have any issues.
Everything’s great.’ Was this some kind of employee review, she wondered.
She’d forgotten she was on a six-week probation period.
It was all too easy to forget that Jake and Dylan were her bosses, but maybe they weren’t happy with her and they’d decided to let her go at the end of it.
Or perhaps they’d give her a pep talk and tell her she had two weeks left to pull her socks up if she wanted to be made permanent.
She didn’t imagine they had any complaints about her work. But it could be that they’d decided she didn’t fit in here – that she was too dull and set in her ways and was ruining the casual, easy-going vibe they strived for.
‘You like this desk?’ Jake ran a hand along its surface. ‘You sit here every day.’
‘Yeah.’ Shit, they’d noticed. She should have made more of an effort to work in different spaces. Maybe they didn’t like that she’d taken this desk out of rotation for everyone else. ‘But I can move around if that’s a problem.’
‘No, not at all. Whatever makes you comfortable.’
‘I just like having a base, knowing where my stuff is.’
‘Sure, sure.’ Jake nodded. ‘Excellent costume, by the way.’
‘Um… thanks.’ She’d dreaded her first dress-up Friday, but she’d made an effort to show willing and join in.
Unfortunately, the best her meagre wardrobe could stretch to was a cut-rate Harry Potter with a grey jumper and an off-brand maroon tie and scarf that only roughly approximated the Hogwarts’ school colours.
She already had the short dark hair, and she’d dug out an old academic gown of her mother’s and bought a cheap pair of off-the-shelf reading glasses. ‘You look amazing!’
‘Thanks. Brite Bomber,’ he pointed to his chest, which was adorned with a unicorn motif. ‘You know, from Fortnite?’
She shook her head. ‘I’ve never played it.’
‘Did you tell her?’ Dylan’s voice came from behind her.
‘No, I was waiting for you, mate.’
Oh God, they were going to let her go, weren’t they?
They’d come to tell her it wasn’t working out.
Ella turned around. Dylan was coming towards her carrying a small round tray.
He was dressed as Cher from Clueless, in a yellow-check mini-skirt suit, white thigh-highs and a long, blonde wig.
He looked spectacular, and he was grinning from ear to ear.
Jake hopped off the desk and stood beside him.
‘Congratulations, Ella!’ Dylan said. ‘You’re our Employee of the Month.’
‘Oh!’
‘Just a little token of our appreciation.’ Jake took a mug of coffee from the tray and placed it on her desk alongside a large muffin adorned with a fizzing sparkler.
‘Gosh, seriously?’ Well, this was weird.
She’d barely been here four weeks and she was employee of the month already?
But they probably did this for everyone, she reasoned – they were so eager to make their staff feel valued.
Still, it was sweet. ‘Thanks.’ She took a sip of coffee as the sparkler fizzed out.
‘Skinny caffè mocha, right?’ Dylan said, beaming.