Gaaah!They are ALL fecking listening. They are craning their necks and their eyes are out on stalks. Except Oliver. He is staring hard out of the window. I shake my head disapprovingly at them.
‘Would you say you were a people person?’ Nidi asks.
‘Yes,' I say forcefully. 'I’d say I was a people person, yes. I love people. Love them.’ I scowl at the passengers still looking at me before crouching right down in my seat.
I need to get through this interview as quickly as I can.
Nidi continues with the Spanish Inquisition and, reeling from the humiliation of the redundancy, my meltdown at the airport, this bus load of nosy parkers, before I know it, out of desperation, I’m telling her everything she wants to hear.
‘Fluent in Spanish?Yes, almost. Me llamo Nell,’ I say letting out a nervous horsey laugh. ‘Me gusta jugar al padel y me gusta hacer salchichas.’
Mystifying. I’ve never once played paddle tennis or made my own sausage.
‘Am I qualified? Yes, yes, plenty of experience in events and PR, yes. Social media expert. Managing a team, no problemo.’ I panic.
It all feels a bit surreal. Technically speaking, Iamqualified; just not in life coaching.But I NEED this job. I NEED it so badly.
Thankfully, Nidi agrees to giving me a trial run and ends the call.
With shaking hands I switch off my phone and let out a sigh of relief. I desperately need something positive to cling to and this opportunity seems to be it. So what, if it is partly based on a lie? Loads of people ‘embellish’ the truth on their CVs. Actors saying they can horse ride. People saying they have done charity work and they like going to art galleries. It’s almost expected these days. I’ll just push it to the back of my mind and focus on reinventing myself. I can’t go back and live at home anymore because my sister has stabbed me in the back. I can’t throw myself into work because I no longer have a job, and I can’t turn to my boyfriend for support because he’s a complete wanker and is ghosting me.
Nonetheless, I am determinednotto have a meltdown over any of it.
While the mountains and the twinkling Mediterranean give way to the sprawling, high-rise towers that signal Benidorm in the distance, I begin to plan my new life in Spain. As the bus pulls into the station, I am still trying to convince myself that I can totally do this. I will simply spend the next few days at the relaxing retreat, frantically studying the language and qualifying to be a life coach online.
‘Good luck with the new job.’
I turn to see Oliver getting up out of his seat. ‘Um, thanks,’ I say, managing to raise a half smile for him.
‘So, you’re a life coach, are you?’
‘Um, yes.’
‘What kind of life coach exactly?’ he asks casually as he takes his rucksack down from the overhead storage.What did I say about him being unbelievably nosy? He must have some sort of condition.
‘The kind who likes to be left alone,’ I snap, tiredness getting the better of me.
‘Understood,’ he says. ‘I’m sure you’ll be great at it.’
‘Yeah, right. You literally just heard me lie my way through the interview.’
His eyes balloon at my confession.
‘I had no choice if you must know. I’ve just been made redundant, remember? Stabbed in the back by my sister? Who will now be managing over two hundred people across ten regional offices instead of me, which you’d know if you’d been listening properly.’
Silence. Plenty of it.
‘Right-o. Right. Right. The redundancy. Yes. Terrible. Anyway, so… good luck again,’ he says, sounding eager to escape. ‘At least your new office is right near the beach, so that’s something.’
He must have listened to the whole conversation; the nosy, nosy bastard.
I tut rudely at him. ‘I have to say you do sound a bit stalkery,’ I say unkindly. ’ And not in a good way.’
His eyes nearly shoot out of his face. ‘I’m so sorry. That wasn’t my intention at all. I just meant… well, good luck again. I won’t bother you any further,’ he says, his cheeks blossoming a deep shade of pink.
We get off the bus, heave our cases out from underneath the hold, and take a moment to stare at each other, digesting the weirdness of our situation. I feel bad for being so incredibly mean to him. It’s not like me. It’s the day I’ve had. It’s made me clinically bitchy.
‘Sorry. That was rude. I’m just not in a good place right now. Good luck with whatever you will be doing.’AKA minding your own business. ‘As long as it’s not anywhere near me, obviously.’ I meant it as a joke, but even to my ears it has come out wrong.
