Page 8 of Be More Octopus

`Live-in, part-time holiday let concierge required ASAP in North Devon. You will work 20 hours per week, including Saturdays (Sundays and Mondays off), managing five holiday lets on-site at our impressive Georgian manor house on the outskirts of the picturesque and genteel resort of Dashford-on-Sea. You will also assist my elderly mother with housework when the cleaner is unavailable. You must be computer literate and have a clean driving licence. You will have exclusive use of a self-contained, one-bedroomed flat and a car. Competitive salary.`

Dashford-on-Sea. That sounded familiar. Em checked on Google Maps. It was a village a few miles up the coast from Ilfracombe. She had visited it on a family holiday years ago. She remembered it being surrounded by rolling green hills ending in strikingly grey jagged cliffs, with pretty higgledy-piggledy pastel coloured houses grouped around an old harbour and a small sandy beach. A lot more picturesque than suburban Birmingham.

The role didn't sound too strenuous. It would give Em plenty of time to work on her art. With no accommodation or car costs, as long as it paid enough to buy food and art equipment with some money left over to save, it might work. Definitely worth a try.

Em logged in, created a profile and submitted her CV, crossing her fingers while she waited for the 'job application complete' message.

CHAPTER NINE

Em sat nervously in front of her laptop screen, looking at a message telling her the meeting organiser would admit her shortly. The interview was supposed to have started a couple of minutes ago. Please don't let there be a technical problem.

She'd only submitted the application form two days ago, but they must have been keen to interview her as she'd received the email invitation first thing the following morning.

Em had never had an online interview before, so she'd asked Lucy to practise with her. They'd experimented with the laptop in different locations around the house. The best performance was with the laptop next to the Wi-Fi router in her dad's study. And sitting so she was looking towards the window with the daylight shining on her face made her look professional - not silhouetted like someone in witness protection. She'd tried using one of the Zoom background images but it looked like she was hiding something. 'Your dad's mahogany bookcase gives an air of quality and trustworthiness,' Lucy assured her after Em moved the Kama Sutra and Tantric Sex for Beginners out of shot.

Em was wearing a plain, white blouse. She'd pinned up her long hair neatly behind her head, kept her makeup as natural as possible and removed all her ear piercings in case the elderly mother objected to them. She'd tried to anticipate all the questions they might ask her, making notes in her favourite journal so she had something to refer to if her mind went blank. Her dad had agreed to go out for the afternoon, so she wouldn't be disturbed. And she'd invented an emergency dental appointment to get out of work. She was all set.

At last, the meeting screen sprang into life. A middle-aged man in a formal shirt and tie appeared in front of a view of the Empire State building. Em looked closer. Was it a fake background? It was a very good one if it was. His profile name described him as 'Nigel Farnham CEO'. Then a woman in her seventies appeared with an Aga and a pile of washing behind her. Her profile just said 'Dashford Grange'. She must be Nancy Farnham, who'd emailed her the interview invitation.

'Apologies for the delay.' Nigel had the authoritative air of someone used to giving orders and having them obeyed immediately. His accent was English public school with a slight hint of American. Perhaps the view behind was real then. 'The last interview overran.'

Not a good sign. They must have been very interested in the previous candidate. May as well relax and see it as interview practice, then.

'Mother, can you hear Emily?'

'I'm not deaf, Nigel. The poor girl hasn't had a chance to open her mouth yet.' Nancy didn't give the impression of someone who needed much looking after.

Em thought she better say something before it deteriorated into a full-blown family row. 'I can hear you both. Thank you for inviting me for an interview.'

Nigel explained the role. 'My mother's getting frailer.' Judging by Nancy's expression, she disagreed, but Nigel didn't seem to be the sort of person who picked up on even unsubtle signals. 'I'm looking for someone who can run the holiday let business for her.'

Nigel's phone rang. 'I have to take this,' he said, putting himself on mute and turning off his video.

Nancy lost no time in taking over the conversation. 'Please excuse my son. He thinks I'm going senile. However, I'm perfectly capable of looking after myself and my holiday accommodation. I'm only going along with his plan because it will give me extra time to have more fun.' She had a mischievous look in her eyes as she spoke. 'And Nigel is paying because it helps him feel less guilty about keeping my grandchildren on the other side of the Atlantic.'

Em warmed to Nancy, if not to Nigel.

Nigel reappeared on screen. Nancy gave Em a conspiratorial 'don't grass me up' look.

After several questions from Nigel about her educational background, it was Nancy's turn to ask about Em's customer care skills. She asked several probing questions about dealing with challenging people. Em's experience of being shouted at by unhappy insurance clients stood her in good stead. Her detailed answers seemed to satisfy Nancy though Nigel's attention was wandering. That was until a large canvas started edging into the study behind Em, in direct view of the webcam.

Em tried to ignore it at first, but she could see Nigel's eyes widening as it became apparent that the painting was of a large, nude woman in a pose that left nothing to the imagination. Another one of Cynthia's creations - being pushed into the study by a completely naked Cynthia.

'Hello, darling! Surprise! Happy birthday!'

'Why didn't you turn the webcam off?' Lucy asked when Em told her about it later.

'I was so gobsmacked, I lost the ability to move for several seconds. At least Nancy thought it was funny but poor Nigel didn't know where to look. I can guarantee that's doesn't normally happen on his Zoom calls.'

'Not unless he's paying good money for them,' Lucy chuckled.

'He just said “Thank you for your time” and ended the call.'

'Fancy ruining your dad's birthday surprise!'

'Do you know the saddest thing?' Em said. 'It's not even Dad's birthday!'

CHAPTER TEN