Spoiler
This is the first thing I’ve written that’s both over 500 words and not an assessment for university in what feels like forever. It’s been quite fun though. I’ve been aiming for a light-hearted and humorous tone, so please let me know if I’m heading along the right track or seem to have veered off completely! Also, I know that the title is kinda sucky, but rest assured that I'm trying to come up with something better ;)
Chapter 1
The clock was infuriating. It was sat on the wall facing Hannah, hands moving ever so slowly, teasing out each slow second of anxious agony. She stared at it, hoping that by sheer will and mental ability she could somehow speed up time. As if in response to her persistent glare, the clock stopped completely. A curse began to form at the corners of her mouth, but Hannah pressed her lips together tight and let it rattle around in her mind instead. It was already obvious to everyone else in this dim and dingy waiting room that she was not the most experiences of candidates for this job. Hannah especially didn’t like the way that the tall man in the fedora was smiling at her and didn’t want to give him a reason to spread that horrid grin even wider.
The seconds were still passing by, ticking away in the back of her mind. Hannah smoothed out the creases of her skirt, rolling her shoulders nervously. She needed this job, needed it so badly. Visions of her landlord, angry -- spitting fury and rage and demanding rent and threatening her with eviction were all still too fresh in her memory. She could even remember the foul smell of his spittle as it came flying towards her face.
“Miss Corliss?”
Hannah had been too wrapped up in thought, fretting about this and that as she always did, to notice that the last candidate had left the interview room and there was now a rather stern woman looking at her, while she had been busy staring off into space.
“Oh, I am sorry!” She said as she stood. The woman smiled, softening a little and calming the flurry of nerves that were twisting within Hannah’s stomach.
“We’re ready for you now, if you’ll please follow me through we can begin.”
There was a clock in here too, as equally infuriating as the one she’d just escaped. It was sat on the wall behind the three interviewers, ticking oh so very loudly as if begging desperately for her attention. The others didn’t seem to notice, but it was all Hannah could do to keep looking at them, smiling at them, when all she wanted to do was stare into the round hypnotic face of that blasted time-piece. Hannah could feel yet another curse dancing on the tip of her tongue, but snatched it away just as the silver-haired fellow to the left coughed to clear his throat and began.
“Thank you very much for coming in today, Miss Corliss. Now, having looked over your application here,” he indicated to the pile of papers that were sat on the table separating them, “usually we would be looking for someone with a little more experience, however!”
“Given the current economic situation we understand how hard it is to get your foot in the door, to gain any experience to begin with,” said the now not-so-stern-faced woman, seated to her right, “and so, after reading your application, my colleges and I decided that we quite liked the sound of you and decided to invite you in for this interview.”
There was a faint thrill of hope threatening to shiver up through Hannah’s bones, and while part of her wanted to let it wriggle its jolt of anticipation through her spine an even greater part of her daren’t – there was still one person yet to speak.
Sat between the other two interviewers was a child. He must have been no older than seven, Hannah thought, and seemed swamped by the comparatively large size of the table before them, with only his head peeking out above the surface.
“What makes you the person most suitable for this position?” He said, the serious nature of his words at odds with his young and childish tone.
Hannah swallowed and gathered her thoughts, eyes briefly caving in and flickering up to look at the incessant tick-and-tock of that clock. Ruby had asked her the same thing the night before, lounged across her chaise longue with a glass of red wine in hand, barking out questions with such frequency and speed that Hannah barely had a moment to think between them.
“Well,” she began, smiling warmly to the three figures sat before her, “I can connect well with people, really get into the core of who they are. Which is useful because, well, then I know exactly what I can do that’s going to shake them up the most.”
There were nods of interest, encouraging her to go on.
“I’ve dealt out my fair share of tears and nightmares. In fact I had one young man, considerably older than yourself, sir,” she said, indicating to the child, “so distraught that he wet the bed well into his teens, and ended up requiring extensive therapy.”
“That does sound like quite an achievement,” the older man said as his eyes glossed over her application again, “especially considering the short time you’ve been in this field. What other skill-sets do you have that you believe you fit you into our organisation?”
They continued on like this for a while, a rally of questions and answers, and slowly Hannah felt the knot of tension in her chest dissipate. They were smiling, all three of them, and a dangerous though snuck its way into her mind.
They actually like me!
“Well, thank you for coming in and speaking to us,” the woman said and rose from her seat to lead Hannah to the door, “if you’re successful we’ll be back in touch by the end of the week.”
“Thank you for giving me this opportunity!” Hannah beamed as she stepped back into the reception room, bumping into someone as she did.
It was that tall man in the fedora with the horrid, horrid smile. Hannah apologised, anxiety welling up again. He said nothing, but split his grin wider and tipped his hat to her, dropping something as he did.
“Oh, I am so sorry, miss,” he said as he bent down to pick up his head from where it had rolled to rest at her feet, holding it under one arm as he reached to pick up his hat with the other, before placing each back on their respective places atop his neck, “I do forget it’s not screwed down sometimes.”
Normally at times like this, there would have been yet another curse forming within Hannah’s mouth but instead she her eyes watched him take the seat in the interview room that she had been sat on only moments before.
The door before her closed, the clock above her resumed its ticking, and Hannah’s mouth finally caught up with the rest of her brain.
“Oh, bugger.”
I'm off to read the rest!