Tainted Love

Today was going to be the first day of Jack Swallow’s new life. Working at the British Library was his dream and the job he’d come for was a shoe-in. With the possible exception of his girlfriend, Paige, he’d been the best student on his university course by far and he’d even had a placement in this very department as part of his final year.

He found the office easily and took a seat outside. The chair was comfortable and still a little warm from the previous occupant. He checked himself over. His suit was as crisp as when he’d put it on that morning and the beige material showed off his early summer tan at its best. He was irresistible.

As soon as they offered him the job and sorted out his contract he was going to change a few things. He’d move him and Paige out of their studio flat for a start and he’d buy them a decent car. When things settled down, he might even ask her to marry him.

There were still ten minutes until he was due for interview and he wasn’t going to waste it. He crossed his long legs, opened his leather case and took out the notes he’d prepared.

Along the passageway a door swung open. “I’m delighted that you finally decided to apply for the job.” Ellery-Beckett’s voice was smooth and animated. “And please make sure that uncle of yours gets in touch with me soon, you hear? Tell him my golf-clubs are going rusty. Even the woods, for goodness sake.”

Jack looked up at the open door.

“I’ll make sure I do.” It was a woman’s voice. A familiar one. The accent all plums in the mouth, the tone husky and cool. “I’ll look forward to hearing from you.”

It couldn’t be, could it?

He watched as the woman walked out of the room. Though she kept her back to him, he could see that she wore her hair in a neat black bob and was dressed in the grey-pinstriped suit that he’d helped her choose for her graduation only weeks before.

“Paige?” He whispered the question to himself and stood up.

Paige didn’t hear him. She turned gracefully into the corridor and wandered elegantly along in the high-heeled shoes that she’d recently chosen as a birthday gift from her mother.

He listened to the clacking of the stilettoes as they echoed off into the distance, his mouth frozen open and completely dry

“Ah, Jack.” It was as if Jack were hearing the words through balls of cotton wool. “You’re a little early. Never mind, we’ll take you as you are. Come in and meet the panel.”

Jack wandered over. His legs felt stiff and his head numb. He reached out and took Ellery-Beckett’s welcoming hand. Jack wanted to speak but could only manage a nod.

They stepped into the office.

It was just the way Jack remembered it. Clean and well organised, the globe at the far end of the desk and the family pictures around the computer.

What he didn’t recognise was the current seating plan or the people who occupied the room.

“Let me introduce the team.” Jack felt like he was filling the entire space and wished he was a foot shorter. “Mrs Dalloway here has been working in the conservation department for over thirty years.”

Jack shook the lady’s hand, being very careful not to squeeze too hard in case he did her some damage.

“In the middle we have Augusta Fleming. She’s over from the States helping out with a few bits and bobs.”

“Pleased to meet you,” she said, although the lines on her face suggested otherwise.

“And finally we have George Patrick. I’m sure you’re familiar with his work on medieval manuscripts.”

George Patrick was a legend. The fact that his toupee was lopsided didn’t detract from the sense of power and strength that he projected. “It’s an honour,” Jack told him, and it really was.

“Take a seat.” George Patrick gestured to the chair that sat in front of the panel. “Would you like anything? A cup of tea, perhaps?”

He wasn’t sure about the tea or about anything else.

What the hell had Paige being doing there?

It was a stupid question. She was being interviewed for the job, of course. His job. So why on earth hadn’t she thought to mention that she was applying for it? All those hours he’d spent rehearsing with her and she hadn’t said a word.

“Jack?”

He still wasn’t sure. Was it a trick question? “Yes please. Tea would be marvellous.” It was a relief to discover that his voice still worked.

George Patrick nodded over at Ellery-Beckett who didn’t seem at all impressed at having to lift the phone. Maybe Jack had failed the test.

The tea was ordered and everyone sat down.

“So, Jack. It’s wonderful to see you again. You did splendid work on your placement. Bill still raves about you.”

“That’s very kind.”

“And the experience clearly didn’t put you off.” Ellery-Beckett chortled and tweaked the ends of his moustache.

“On the contrary.”

“Let me put a scenario to you. As a warm up.” Augusta leant forward as she spoke. Jack found her deep southern accent strangely intimidating. “Imagine you’re in charge of a team and there’s essential building work happening in your area. Your direct line-manager is out of the country for the weekend and you get a call from security. They tell you that they’ve seen water dripping down onto one of the cabinets containing some rather precious items. How would you deal with the situation?”

Jack’s head was swimming with unanswered questions. Had he done the right thing ordering tea? How come he didn’t know that Paige’s uncle and Ellery-Beckett were old chums? And if they were, why hadn’t Paige used it to get him the job rather than applying for it herself?

“Building works?” He was stalling. “On a Sunday?” Water dripping onto the collections wasn’t good. “And the line-manager’s away.” Had she known about it when they picked out her outfit? It seemed odd at the time that she hadn’t gone for something a little more elegant like the rest of her friends. She must have had inkling even then. “And security call? Yes, I see that it’s a fairly straightforward procedure. I’d...”

What the hell would he do? This question wasn’t on his list. It was far too easy and it had little to do with his speciality.

“I’d er...”

“Yes?”

“...do several things. First of all I’d call my boss. Except he’s not available, is he? No, I’d call his boss.” Sexist? “Or hers, if she was a woman. And find out what I should do.”

Ellery-Becket cleared his throat loudly, removed the handkerchief from his breast pocket and dabbed his forehead. “Well yes. That’s one way to deal with it, I suppose. Moving swiftly on.” Thank goodness. “George has a question for you. It’s a corker. Right up your street.”

George Patrick leaned forward. All Jack could focus upon was the slope of the toupee and the forest of hair that sprouted from each of his ears.

“You are working on our collection of Eighteenth Century documents. How would you treat a manuscript written in Iron Gall ink that’s now corroding?”

Jack pictured a bottle of calcium phytate and a pipette, but before he could see the rest the whole image dissolved inside his head. Try as he might to retrieve it, all he could think of was Paige and her suit and the plums in her mouth. He took a deep breath to try and compose himself and looked blankly at the members of the interview panel, hoping Ellery-Becket might throw him a lifeline just for old time’s sake. Ellery-Becket threw nothing. He just scratched his head and smiled an apology at the rest of the team.

There was a knock at the door.

“Come.”

A young lad in a brown suit entered, his elbow holding down the door while he did his best to balance the tray he was carrying. The china cup and saucer slid to one side and a chocolate biscuit toppled from its plate and onto the floor.

The man righted the balance of the tray and walked in, unwittingly crushing the biscuit underfoot into thousands of crumbs. It occurred to Jack as he watched on in horror that his chances of becoming the British Library’s latest employee were about as high as those that the digestive on the floor held of ever being eaten.