Chapter 4 Shannon
Shannon
I’ve been sitting at the kitchen table for a couple of hours, my laptop open, notepad beside me, and the local paper spread out.
As soon as we got back from signing the papers, there was no need for me to go because I wasn’t actually signing anything, but Dad wanted me to have the full experience.
Bless him. When I got back to my parents, reality set in and I needed to find a second job.
My parents are only charging me three hundred a month for rent, but I want to be in a position where I can put at least a hundred a month away to treat them.
They’d never accept extra on top of the rent I’m paying.
I’m aware how lucky I am to be in this position hence why I want to give them something back.
They deserve it. I’ve been job hunting, but most of the local businesses in Ashbourne are family-run, and the owners tend to offer them to their family or close friends.
I’ve got a cushy number with my insurance sales job.
My boss is laid back and she lets me start work later if I need to as long as I hit my targets.
This is why I thought about another part-time job because I can work around everything else, I’ll be able to save extra money for my parents without touching my savings for the glamping site.
I’ve circled four listings in the paper.
First one is a trainee hairdresser, but I don’t think it’s for me.
I once cut my own fringe. I was aiming for feathered bangs, but I ended up with a fringe looking like a set of stairs, and it wasn’t a good look.
I looked like a Lego head doll. Maybe they’d let me make tea or coffee?
The second one is a trainee tractor driver. It'd be fun if I could stick my earbuds in while ploughing the fields, then I remember the time Dad asked me to cut the lawn with the sit-on mower and I ended up in the fishpond—mower included —and it cost me my pocket money. Even more for Dad to fix it.
The third is the farm shop, which I called earlier, and they said they’d get the boss to call me back. But the fourth one, I’d double circled because I knew I could do it. It’s local, it pays well and I’m not afraid of hard work.
I pick up my phone and call Talia to tell her about my plan. The phone barely rings once. “Hey, are you busy?” I ask, she doesn’t have set lunch breaks.
“Nope, I’m all ears. What’s up?” I hear her tapping away on her keyboard.
“Okay, so don’t laugh, but I need your advice on something.” She hums in response, still typing. Might as well just come out and say it.
“There’s a job in the paper for a labourer. Do you think I could do it?” The tapping stops. I’ve got her full attention.
“You want to be a labourer? What kind of job?” Her voice laced with amusement, I’m glad she finds this funny because I’m deadly serious.
“Hang on, I’ll read it to you.” I clear my throat, repeating the ad back to her.
“Wanted. Reliable, hardworking labourer for local builder’s firm. All may apply. Call this number and ask for Frank. Guaranteed six months’ work.” I wait… and wait. Then Talia starts choking.
“Are you okay? Why are you choking?” I twist the phone around, looking at the screen when she doesn’t reply.
“Talia?”
“Yep, I’m here, just trying to work out what you said? Because I swear you said a fucking building site,” she whispers the last part.
“I did? And your point is?” I snap, more defensive than I meant to because there’s nothing wrong with me applying for a job as a labourer.
“Hey, I’m not judging, Shan. But seriously, you on a building site?” I slump back, letting out a breath.
“The money’s good. The hours suit me. It’s only two days a week.” I lean forward, “And it’s just mixing cement.” Surely, it’s like baking a cake, only swapping flour for cement.
“I thought you were going for the farm shop one?”
I’ve already told her in a text I’m waiting to hear from the boss.
“I told you, I’m waiting to hear back from them,” I say, rolling my eyes.
I swear she doesn’t listen half the time.
“Besides, if I can bake a cake, mixing all the ingredients together then I can mix a bag of bloody cement.” Now I’m irritated. I know I can do this job.
“Talia, it’ll be a piece of cake.” Pardoning the pun and hoping she can see where I’m coming from. She knows choices in this town are limited. “I never said it’d be hard. Just… cement’s terrible for your skin.”
Fuck my life. “I’ll wear gloves.” This conversation is irritating, let alone talking about cement. “I don’t intend to bathe in it.” I snort, which makes her laugh.
“You know what, go for it. You’ve got this, Shan.” Yes, I knew she’d be on board even though she thinks I’m totally bonkers.
“Right, I’m hanging up. I’ll let you know how it goes.”
“Good luck.” I end the call, feeling more excited about being in the fresh air and surrounded by new people.
Here goes nothing, I can do this.
After calling about the job, an hour later I’m pulling up to the yard.
It looks like they’re building a huge mansion.
The place is already stunning. The yard is dusty, thick with dirt.
About four lads are scattered around, each doing their bit, some laying bricks, others hauling timber. Not a single woman in sight.
Maybe that’s why Talia was so shocked. It’s seen as a man’s job, but who the hell gave a man the right to decide I couldn’t do this job? Just because I’ve got a pair of tits doesn’t mean I can’t lift a few bricks or mix a few bags of cement.
I take a deep breath and climb out of my car.
It's a warm day, so I’ve kept my cut-off shorts on and tank top.
I did remember to put my boots and bra on, at least. I walk over to the first bloke I see.
He’s perched on a pallet of bricks and looks older than the rest. He’s watching me with his cigarette in hand.
“Hi, I’m looking for Frank. I’m Shannon.” He looks me up and down, his eyes pausing on my boots.
“You’ve got strawberries on your wellies?” I blink, looking down at my fruity welly boots. Not quite sure what he’s getting at. Lifting my foot, I give it a little wiggle.
“Yeah… I’ve got them in ankle length too.” Why did I tell him that? Great, he’s never going to take me seriously now. And I really want this job. He doesn’t laugh at me, he grins, big and toothy. He jumps down from the bricks and holds out his hand.
“Frank. Nice to meet you, Shannon. Come on, we’ll chat in the office.” I follow him into a porta-cabin. The floor is caked in dried mud and dust, it makes my skin itch when my boots drag across it — like nails down a chalkboard.
He moves behind the one and only desk which is covered in building plans and sketches. No clear space in sight. The smell of stale smoke and coffee tells me my hair is going to stink later.
“Take a seat, Shannon.” He points towards the old, dusty chair opposite him.
He’s quiet for a moment, just sits there, staring at me, like he’s trying to figure me out and why I’m really here. He leans back in his chair and blows out a breath, like he’s not sure how to phrase what he’s about to say. “So, it wasn’t me who you spoke to earlier.” He shakes his head.
“How can I say this without offending you?” His honesty throws me off. I thought if anything, he would beat around the bush. I don’t want the broken-down version, I want the truth.
“I find it’s better to be honest, Frank,” I say, sitting up straighter, proud of myself for not flinching.
He offers me a warm smile, but there’s still the awkward vibe I’m getting from him.
I could make this easier on him by walking out.
But I don’t back down.
For the sake of every woman who’s ever been told this isn’t the job for her, I lean into his uncomfortable space and relish in his suffering, wishing I hadn’t left my bloody phone in the car so I could record the words he’s struggling to say.
Only I’m not prepared for the reason why I’m about to be refused.
“Alright, Shannon, I’ll be honest. I’m the foreman, and I can tell you now, you’re wasting your time.
” He glances around the cabin as if we’re secretly being filmed.
“Thing is —” he scratches his head looking nervous, “— my boss is the one who makes the final decisions and he won’t employ you.
” Annoyance prickles under my skin. I want a reason.
I want Frank to get up, march outside, and drag his fucking boss in here to explain why he won’t offer me the job.
Leveling my eyes with Frank, I say, “Then I suggest you go find your boss and get him to do your dirty work. It’s clear you’re uncomfortable.
” I’m not one for mincing my words, especially when dealing with arseholes or people who work for arseholes.
But a true arsehole will stand in front of me and have the balls to tell me straight.
Why he’s an arsehole?
I already know I’m not getting the job, so why stop now? “Well, Frank? Are you going to fetch him, or do I have to walk around this entire building site and find him myself?” He pushes up from his chair, stomps to the door, then turns back with a faint grin on his face.
“You should have been a lawyer.” He chuckles before disappearing outside.
Maybe I should have listened to Talia and prepared myself before calling. But when I rang about the job earlier, the lad on the other end told me to swing by in an hour and Frank would be back.
I’m glad I didn’t listen to her.
Because I’m ready to give this so-called boss some home truths.