‘Oh. What about this one?’ I turn the screen so Mags can see it. ‘Housekeeper wanted for large property in Somerville. Duties to include general housework, ironing, some garden maintenance, light cooking, plus some additional admin duties. Immediate start and competitive salary. Please send CV to…’ I feel my cheeks warm as a flush spreads across my skin from my neckline. This is just the kind of thing I was thinking of. ‘Mags, look, this could be perfect!’
‘Is it a live-in position?’
‘No, I don’t think so, but don’t you think something like that would be perfect?’ A flicker of excitement lights a spark in me, and I get to my feet, already thinking what I might wear if I get invited for interview. ‘Can I borrow your laptop?’
‘Are you sure you want to apply?’ Mags tucks her dirty bare feet up onto the couch, making no move to go to her room for her computer. ‘I mean… I’m not really feeling the vibe… and Somerville is far.’
‘Well, I am.’ I have to temper my tone as I resist the urge to snap the words at Mags. I’m not sure I buy into all this ‘vibe’ thing that Mags has going on, and now I’m so impatient to get my CV over for the job that I don’t have time to pretend I do. And Somerville isn’t that far. Half an hour maybe, if I jump on the train with my pushbike. ‘Come on, Mags, this is perfect. And it says the money is “competitive”, just think what we could do in here.’ Mags could probably get her dad to pay for redecorating, but I don’t want to remind her of that, not now. ‘We could get one of those massive, squashy sofas, and get rid of this old thing.’ I toe the stuffing that leaks out from the bottom of the couch, like some sort of grim, grey lava.
‘Hmmm.’ Mags gets slowly to her feet, and disappears into her room, emerging five minutes later with the battered Mac.
‘Thank you, you’re amazing.’ I grab the machine, giving Mags a huge smile that makes her cheeks flush pink. ‘Right, here goes.’
‘Are you really sure?’ Mags blurts out, one hand raised as if to take the laptop back from me. ‘I mean, think about it, Em, it’s really just a glorified wife. That’s all this guy wants. You’ll be doing all the cooking and cleaning, with none of the benefits.’
‘I’m pretty sure I’ll be OK without having sex with him,’ I say, raising an eyebrow as I turn away and place the laptop out of reach. ‘And anyway, he might already have a wife, the advert doesn’t say.’
‘I’m just saying, that’s all…’ Mags gestures to the flat around us, to the clutter that sits in piles in the corners, ‘it’s not like housework is your favourite thing to do, let’s be honest. Like I said, you’ll just be a wife – but doing all the shit bits but without getting any of the good stuff. And Somerville is far, you’d spend an hour every day commuting there and back. You’ll be exhausted.’
I open up my Hotmail account, noticing a message from the recruitment company. A quick read tells me they have called and left a message, and they are awaiting my response to a temp job they have. I look over at Mags, who is watching me closely, and there is a stutter in my chest. Maybe she missed their call. I open up a new email and attach my CV, blocking out Mags as I hit send on the email. ‘There, I’ve done it. We’ll just have to wait and see now – if it’s meant to be, then it’s meant to be.’
It takes me a long while to fall asleep that night, my mind returning over and over to the job advert, as I try to picture the house, whoever placed the advert and what this could mean for me. I think if I get an interview, I’ll print the advert and add it to my scrapbook to document the next stage of my journey. I tuck my hand between the mattress and bed frame, my fingers searching out the comforting feel of the book’s spine, and I imagine myself smoothing the advert into place, before dressing to impress at interview. Smiling, I roll over in an attempt to get comfortable. I can hear Mags’s music through the wall – something slow and turgid that really should help me fall asleep – and I finally doze off around two o’clock in the morning.
I’ve barely begun to dream when something jolts me from sleep, an unknown noise breaking into my conscience. Keeping my eyes closed, I count to ten under my breath before I open them, my heart thudding painfully in my chest as I try to get my bearings and I listen hard to figure out what it is that has woken me. Breathing. That’s what has dragged me from sleep. The sound of another person breathing in my room.
‘Fuck.’ Whispering the word, I push myself up on shaky arms, frantically casting my mind over what is on the bedside table that I could use as a weapon, stifling a shriek as I see the figure standing at the end of my bed, illuminated by the thin shaft of moonlight that streaks through the gap in the curtains. For one moment I think my heart has stopped dead in my chest before the figure takes a step towards me and I realize that it is my flatmate. It’s only Mags.
‘Shit, you scared me. Shhh, Mags, come on, back to bed.’ I push back the duvet cover and gently take Mags by the arm, shivering slightly as the night air meets the sweat on my body. Mags mumbles something, something about not letting go, and I shush her again before guiding her back to her room on legs that feel like jelly, making sure the door is firmly closed when I
