If Only I Could: A Sense and Sensibility contemporary fiction
Chapter 2
Margaret and Marianne were setting the table for dinner at the Dashwood's family home in Crouch End when Elinor arrived from work. She and Edward tried to have dinner with her family more or less regularly – if not once a week then at least once every two weeks or so. Edward was coming from work later as well. These dinners really mostly depended on Edward's shifts at the hospital, and they hadn't had one for a while with Edward doing so much overtime. He'd been covering for some of the other nurses at the hospital with the massive wave of flu that had been going around.
Their mother, Anne, was overseeing the dinner by the stove. Having all exchanged their greetings, Elinor set to work on a salad.
"Did I tell you yet," Anne started now that all three of her girls were there, "that I went to the job centre this week."
"Oh yes?" Elinor asked. Her mother had talked about getting a job somewhere, even if just part time, to get out of the house a bit and to make a bit of pin money to top up her not-so-amazing widow's pension.
"I didn't sign up, as such, but went about seeing what jobs were on offer. Do you think I could work in a restaurant?" Anne went on.
All three daughters exchanged slightly surprised looks. Their mother wasn't old as such, but she was getting on and had not been to any employment since Elinor was born.
"Heavy work, that," Elinor contributed, cautiously hoping to sound out her mother's determination and self-assessment of her own abilities.
"I suppose so, can't quite see myself managing on my feet all day long, carrying things back and forth," Anne agreed. Elinor let out a silent sigh of relief hearing this: her mother wasn't insisting on restaurants. She would be able to make do with the money that was coming in, but of course a little more wouldn't hurt. But she'd end up hurting herself if she thought she'd make it as a kitchen porter or a waitress.
"Anything else available?" Marianne asked.
"Nothing much in my range, I'm afraid," Anne sighed, but then remembered Marianne's news: "But Marianne didn't tell you yet, did she? She was invited to an interview at your place!"
That cheered them all up. Or it was hard to tell with Margaret sometimes, with her teenage moods and brooding. The whole family was still, no doubt, in pieces after that shock, but they all had to try and move on somehow. Margaret was lashing out a little less these days, but she'd still start to cry almost uncontrollably at times when things were too hard for her. Teenage hormones and immeasurable grief at losing her father were not a very fruitful combination.
"And she's got a gig with The Dead Ringers next Friday," Margaret said. Might as well have that out as well in the same commotion, is how Margaret saw it. As Margaret saw it, her job nowadays was to sit out her school and hope the world would be a little better place by then. She had no idea what to study, all her friends were preoccupied with boys and Margaret just couldn't bring herself to care about anything. Her mother was a mess, Elinor had moved out so long ago, and Marianne seemed to have too much other living to do to really pay attention to Margaret. So tonight's dinner would, again, be all about Marianne and it was 'in for penny, in for a pound' for Margaret. Meanwhile, she'd sit quietly and later go to her room and immerse herself in a computer game.
"How excellent!" Elinor rejoiced. "Where is it? Can we come and see? Can Margaret get in?"
"It's just some birthday do at the Hound," Marianne explained. The Hound was a pub with a large function room not far from Crouch End. North London had plenty of people who could afford to throw a big party with a live band.
Marianne's band, The Dead Ringers, was something Elinor supported very much. She wasn't musically inclined herself, but she could see how good Marianne felt whenever she was practicing or performing. The band played easy-going party pop (or soul and R&B, whatever was needed) covers and Marianne was the singer. Elinor was certain that the music and performing would help Marianne get back the confidence she lost after their father died. And if Elinor guessed right, Marianne would soon be working herself in to a right state because of the job interview. Elinor would have to get some more detail out of her on that one later.
Marianne had lived at student digs already, but she had moved back home to be with their mother and Margaret. Marianne had always been more of her mother's girl than her father's, but that did not make losing their father any easier. Their father had been extremely supportive of Marianne's choice to pursu graphics and design as a career even when the girl had worried about her talent. If anything, Marianne had felt very strongly for their mother and young Margaret as well. Along with Edward, Marianne had most tried to help Elinor out with all the practicalities. She had seemed to have noticed Elinor's burden with trying to comfort everyone else, and tried not to add to that so much herself. That was partly why she had moved back home: so that their mother and Margaret would not cling onto Elinor quite so much. It had all brought Elinor and Marianne even closer to each other than before, even if Elinor still was the organised pragmatist and Marianne the commitment-free artistic soul.
Just a while later Edward showed up as well, straight from the hospital looking all of the 18 hours he had been at work.
"You look bushed!" Elinor said as she greeted him with a kiss and a cuddle.
"And feel it, too," he replied.
"These for me?" Elinor then noticed the bundle of flowers he was carrying.
"Well, let's say they're for all of you lovely ladies," Edward flashed his adorable smile. He truly was about the sweetest, nicest man they knew.
The said ladies made appreciative noises and Marianne took the flowers while their mother went on a hunt for a vase.
"Actually, Anne, you said you were keeping an eye open for a job?" Edward continued as he made himself comfortable at the table. He'd been on his feet for longer than he cared to think and by the looks of it everything was good to go dinner-wise.
"Yes, I certainly am" Anne confirmed.
"The florists' had a note up. Part-time, to help out at busy times like Saturdays and suchlike, apparently. The lady said it was not necessary to be trained as she'd just be pointing out the odd jobs that needed doing."
"That sounds worth asking about," Elinor said.
"Yes, goodness, you know just about everything about flowers and plants," Marianne agreed. Margaret made some teen-age noises that were reasonably easy to interpret as joining in on the agreement.
"Which florists' was it, the on up the road?" Anne asked. If it was, then it was Mrs Jennings and Anne knew the shop well. Anne knew her and the girls and poor late David as well when he was alive – they had frequented that shop for years and years.
"That's right, Mrs Jennings' place," Edward confirmed and gratefully accepted the glass of red wine his darling wife poured him.
Conversation over dinner was lively and flowing, as usual. They chatted about everything from Edward's massive shifts at the hospital and the problems with getting more temp nurses in to speculating about the florists' job and Margaret's impending A-levels. It was the latter topic that made Margaret contribute the most by pointing the chatter back to the one topic that Elinor was very keen on and that would re-direct the attention to somewhere Margaret would consider more comfortable: anything that was not her, really:
"Edward, you didn't hear this yet, but Marianne's got an interview at Elinor's company."
Margaret's ploy was successful, and the conversation was stuck on Impressions and the trainee posts for a long time. Elinor had not been wrong in thinking Marianne would start worrying herself over the job opportunity.
"I just wonder what the interview will be like," Marianne said quietly. She'd never really been at a proper interview.
"What does the invitation say, does it say who's interviewing?" Elinor had asked later in the evening – once again over a glass of not-very-expensive white.
"Just says Alison Riley, head of graphics."
"There might be someone else there, too, just to sound you out and listen and give Alison a second opinion. But don't let that intimidate you Sweet, Alison is really, really nice. They don't interview anyone if they're not really interested." Elinor explained.
"But won't they be, like, testing me, trying to see if they can catch me out?" Marianne squirmed. She hadn't had a proper job interview before. Coffee shops and the Subway down the street in Crouch End did not exactly seem like the places to prepare you for a real corporate job interview.
"I promise you, they won't be trying to trip you up or anything. Who would want to work in a place that did that, anyways, who tried to set people up to fail? No, they'll just want to hear how you see your skills and what you can do and if you have some idea of how you can contribute to the place. Just be honest with them. They already know you haven't much actual work experience in graphics but they want to see you all the same. That must mean something!" Elinor tried to explain.
"Will that friend of yours, the owner be there? You said he's a designer and takes interest in all the creative stuff," Marianne was just full of questions and her fertile mind was trying to come up with new mine fields to replace any that Elinor managed to make go away.
"Oh I doubt it. He lets his managers do their job, you'd not be reporting to him so he'll leave it to the department head to organise the recruitment." Elinor explained.
"What's he like? He's your boss, isn't he?" Margaret suddenly piped in. To her, Elinor was the sanest person in the world and if there ever was a problem where Margaret needed help Elinor would be the first person to go to. Elinor, though, kept talking about her boss just on those terms: her portrayal of him whenever the man came up for any reason, was that he was fair and wise and clever and nice and everything Elinor, to Margaret, was.
"Christopher Brandon?" Elinor asked – Margaret was interested? Elinor was a little surprised.
"He's great. In a word. Or I think so anyways. The thing is, I don't really know very much about him, just bits and pieces, but he's the best boss I've ever had. Others have been nice, too, but Christopher really seems to know where needs to pitch in and what things can be left to his staff to do. Then, even when he pitches in it doesn't feel like he comes in to bulldoze his way, but it's always a constructive sort of an effort." Elinor wasn't quite sure how to describe her boss. She was reluctant to say much about his persona partly because she didn't want to influence her sister's eventual first impression of him if she got the job, but also because Christopher Brandon was such a very private person. She had known him for years now and they had formed a quiet, private, friendship. That was why she knew about his dread of Sir John's matchmaking efforts and other little private things he did – but Elinor would never talk to anyone else about any of it.