New Job

We settle into a routine over the next few days. Jean wakes up early, makes herself a green tea and leaves an empty mug on the side for me. She plays the radio constantly and I discover how much she loves to sing, no matter whether she actually knows the lyrics (or even the song).

On the Monday she'd let me sleep in. I came downstairs to find a neatly scrawled note on the dining room table.

'Gone to work. Please make yourself at home. I'll be home by 5. Jean x'

I run my finger over the X and turn the page over in my hand.

'PS here is my number in case you need anything at all x'

Again with the X. A warmth rises from the top of my stomach to my chest and I try to suppress it, taking out my phone to add a new contact.

The next day I made an effort to wake up when she did, knowing I needed to get myself an interview at the very least. I was sat at the breakfast bar in the kitchen with a steaming cup of coffee, the newspaper and my trusty red marker. I had already circled a couple of vacancies when Jean sat beside me. She had a bowl of yoghurt with berries and her green tea. I felt her eyes move to the paper, leaning in to see what I'd highlighted.

"The school I work at have asked me if I know anyone that would be able to work in the library. I can get you in." She picked up her green tea and took a sip.

"I'd really appreciate that. Thank you." I smiled at her, watching her hands as they put down her tea cup and picked up her spoon. Mixing the red fruits into her yoghurt she spoke again.

"Want to come in with me today and get a feel for the place?" She took a spoonful of the yoghurt and blinked at me expectantly. I nodded enthusiastically and closed the newspaper, getting up to shower.

By Wednesday I had already secured myself the job at Moordale High. I woke up at the same time as Jean again and sat with my coffee at the breakfast bar with her, watching her drink her green tea. I enjoyed the quiet we shared over our drinks, content sitting side by side as we prepared for the day ahead.

"You must be Nell!" The girl stretched out her chubby hand, cradling a few books in the other arm. She wore large green rimmed glasses and a pencil skirt pulled all the way up her ribs, a wrinkled blouse tucked in at the top.

"Yes, nice to meet you…" I hung on the end of my sentence, presenting my hand, realising I didn't know her name.

"Gina!" She shoves her hand into mine and shakes it rapidly, almost yanking my own out of it's socket. She turns on her heel and expects me to follow.

Weaving in and out of tall bookcases she speaks so hastily that I struggle to keep up. She's telling me that she has worked there for years now and if such a position existed she was sure she'd be manager. She points out the different sections and explains that I'll be responsible for checking books in and out.

"This is the stamp you'll use." Her eyebrows are raised as she wipes the side of the plastic. "Under no circumstances is it to leave it's designated spot." She glares at me over the top of her glasses, tapping her fingernail on part of the desk and I'm sure I've done something wrong already.

I get to work after my brief induction, settling into a rhythm of stamping books, filling in the student names and date. I log all the entries in the library file and before I know it a shrill bell rings for lunch.

I almost get lost in the vast corridors trying to find the cafeteria but trust the majority of students, following them into the large hall. I feel like a new kid as I edge into the room. It smells of hospital food and the sound of the chatter is almost overwhelming. I turn to back out, thinking a spot outside somewhere seems safer. As I spin on my heel to head for the green someone collides with my the side of my shoulder. I recognise the petite frame instantly.

"Oh, Jean!" I probably sound a little more excited than I'd intended but honestly, if nothing else, it's really comforting to see a familiar face.

"I was just coming to find you!" She smiles and my heart swells. "Please tell me you weren't considering lunch in the cafeteria with those hooligans?" She looks past me into the room of teens and as I follow her eyes it feels even madder than before. I laugh awkwardly, stuffing my hands into my pockets.

"Where do you and all the other cool kids go then?" What? What a stupid thing to say. As if I've just referred to this extremely well distinguished woman as a 'cool kid'! I could have sank into the core of the earth, expecting her to frown at my comment. Instead, she laughs gently and hooks her arm through mine, leading me back the way I'd walked originally.

"Well, the 'cool kids' tend to settle for the staff room." She cocks an eyebrow. "But there's only so much advice I can give between mouthfuls of my lunch."

Although I'm not sure what she means I let her continue, looking at our feet as we navigate another corner.

"I'm a sex and relationship therapist." She explains, stopping at a door with her name on the front.

DR JEAN F. MILBURN

After a second it dawns on me that I never actually asked what she did here and I feel very rude. After another second I realise what she said.

"A what?" I can't help but sound a little ignorant, scrunching my nose with my question. If she's at all concerned or offended by my bewilderment she doesn't let on.

"A sex and relationship therapist." She closes the door behind us and makes her way to her seat in front of the window, lifting her bag from under her desk. "I talk to individuals and sometimes couples about their anxieties regarding sexuality or… satisfaction." I could swear she drags out the last word slightly, her voice sounding an octave lower than before.

"Oh." I say quietly, blushing as I take a seat on the other side of her desk. I'm not brave enough to enquire further. She takes a Tupperware out of her bag and places it in front of me before taking another out for herself.

"You made me lunch?" I lean forward and scoot my chair, edging closer to the desk and, subconsciously, her. She moves forward too and we now both have our elbows resting on the hard wood. Despite it's considerable size it seems to shrink between us as we mirror each other.

"Yes, is that okay?" She actually seems a bit uncharacteristically uneasy, as if this simple domesticated display hasn't got my head spinning. Was it automatic to make one for me too? Did she actually think about it? Either way I'm entirely flattered and I revel in the thought of her caring for me. I snap open the lid in answer to her question and and find a beautifully simple meal looking back at me, organised in little sections. A sandwich with seeded bread, some various fruits. A tiny pot of hummus and some mini carrot sticks. The obvious effort makes my heart swell yet again.

Jean takes half of her own sandwich from her tub and lifts it to her lips. "I didn't know what you'd like so…" She smiles shyly and takes a small bite, chewing slowly. I break a piece off the edge of my sandwich, making a grand performance of inspecting it closely before popping it into my mouth. I squint, looking at her as I move the food around my mouth. She rolls her eyes, stifling a smile and I chef's kiss dramatically.

"It's perfect!" I beam at her, a genuine, slightly toothy grin. "Thank you.' I take another bite and she's staring at me. I swallow hard, looking right back. She smirks.

"You've got some uh.." She gestures at her own mouth and I rush to lick my lips, a heat rising to my cheeks. She smiles wider. "Not quite." I lift my fingers and wipe at the corner. She laughs now and stands, leaning over the desk. I can smell her perfume as she raises her thumb to my bottom lip. I'm suddenly all too aware of how hard I'm breathing. I try and control it, only making it more ragged. She holds it there just a second longer than perhaps she should have, her lips parted slightly. The silence is deafening and I feel like we are standing on ice. Like if we shift even a millimetre we might just plunge into the water below.

Jean is the first to move, pulling her hand away and dropping back into her seat, unable to meet my gaze. We are quiet for another few stiff seconds. "I think that's got it." She says at last.

We finish our food quietly, her asking the occasional question about my day in the library. I want to say more, I know my answers must seem brief but my brain is completely fogged over. My lip burns where her thumb had been and I feel incapable of forming a coherent thought that doesn't relate to that thumb.. those fingers.