Where Rainbows End. Cecelia Ahern

have an instant message from: ROSIE.

      Rosie: I faxed the letter over, did you see it?

      Ruby: Ha ha ha ha ha ha.

      Rosie: Do you know what? The more I read it, the more I’m glad that I’m leaving. The name Andy Sheedy Paperclip & Co. says it all really, doesn’t it? I wonder who wrote the letter for him, seeing as I’m his secretary and that’s my job. I probably did it myself and didn’t even realise it. Ah well, so what do you think?

      Ruby: This is the best way to leave. Rosie Dunne, you will go down in history in this building as the woman who told Randy Andy to eff off. I will spread the word, Rosie; you being fired will not have been in vain. I’ll miss you! Where will you go?

      Rosie: I have absolutely no idea.

      Ruby: Why don’t you apply for a job in a hotel? Ever since I met you you’ve been going on and on about hotels.

      Rosie: I know. I have a slight obsession with them. Before I had Katie all I ever wanted to do was run a hotel. I don’t think that will ever happen now but we all need dreams. We all need hope, that something more than what we have is possible to achieve.

       Perhaps it’s the huge furniture that makes me feel so safe in hotels, like oversized vases the size of people, and couches that wouldn’t fit in my living room and kitchen put together. I feel like Alice in Wonderland in hotel lobbies. At least I have a month to find somewhere. It shouldn’t be that hard. I’d better start writing up my CV.

      Ruby: That shouldn’t take long then.

      From Rosie

      To Alex

      Subject Is my CV OK?

      Attachment: CV. doc

      Please, please, please help me with my CV or my poor daughter and I will starve to death. How do I make all my crappy jobs look impressive? Help! Help! Help!

      

      

      From Alex

      To Rosie

      Subject Re: CV

      Attachment: CV. doc

      As you can see (by the attached document) I have been over your CV. The one you sent me was practically perfect as it was, of course, but I just fixed the grammar and a few spelling mistakes… you no how great at spelling I am!

      By the way, Rosie, you haven’t been doing a ‘crappy job’, as you so nicely phrased it. I don’t think you understand the difficulty of what you are doing. You are a full-time single mum who has a job as a personal secretary to a very successful businessman. I only changed the words around; I didn’t alter the truth in any way. What you have been doing day after day is incredible. When I come home from work I’m so shattered that I just collapse; I barely take care of myself, never mind another person.

      Don’t underestimate yourself, Rosie; don’t play down what you do. When you go into your interviews keep your head held high and feel confident that you are an incredibly hard worker (when you want to be), you have the wonderful ability to work with other people as you are always well liked (except that time when we had to do a group project in school on the planets and you insisted on drawing little men on Mars and little women on Venus over Susie Corrigan’s picture that took her weeks to do in art class, which ended up causing everyone in the group to walk out in protest, leaving just the two of us having to start another one all by ourselves. God, what is it about you and me being together that makes everyone hate us?). You are wonderful, beautiful, smart, and intelligent, and if you knew anything about coronary heart diseases I’d hire you myself.

      I’ve suggested adding that you were offered a place in Boston College, which is impressive, so everything will be fine. Just be yourself and they’ll love you.

      Just one more thing. I strongly suggest that you apply for a job that you actually like this time. You would be surprised at how easy it is to get out of bed in the morning when you’re going to do something that doesn’t make you want to jump off the top floor of the bus (I was a bit worried when I got that email). How about finally trying to find a place in a hotel? You’ve wanted to do that since you stayed in the Holiday Inn in London when you were seven, remember?

      Go for it and let me no how you get on.

       Chapter 13

      From Alex

      To Rosie

      Subject Boston visit?

      Just taking a sneaky break from performing ‘lobotomies’ to send a quick email to see how you’re getting on with the job search. You have one week left till Randy Andy throws you out of his paperclip empire, so there’s still plenty of time, and if by any chance something hasn’t caught your eye by then, I can send a cheque to help tide you over for a while (but only if you want my help).

      I would love to go home right now and go to bed, I am so tired. I’ve worked a double shift so I don’t have to get my hands bloody tomorrow; I have the day off, such bliss … The problem is that when I get home Sally will be getting ready to go on her shift. We don’t have the most sociable hours in the world – well, not unless you count talking to people who are rolling around in agony on hospital beds. Sorry, that wasn’t funny.

      I’m just tired, and Sally and I don’t really get to spend a lot of time together, and when we do we’re usually so tired we just pass out.

      Here’s a good idea. If you come over with Katie and whatshisname then I’ll take a few days off and we can see all the sights, eat out, enjoy ourselves and I can sleep. And I’ll finally get to meet whatshisname. I’ve had a lousy few weeks; I really need your comic relief! Work your magic, Rosie Dunne, and make me laugh.

      From Rosie

      To Alex

      Subject Rosie is here!

      Hello there, misery man. Have no fear, Rosie is here! Sorry things have been shit for you lately. I think life likes to do that every now and again: it does a dip and when you feel like you can’t take any more it smooths out again. But until then, my dear friend, I will try to humour you by explaining the events of my life.

      OK, firstly you are a bad, bad influence on me. After I read the masterpiece that was my CV, and after I read your letter I felt so motivated and hyped up that I donned my tracksuit, headband, wristbands and jogging shoes (not really) and I raced around Dublin city like a woman on a mission.

      You horrible, horrible man. You made me feel like I could do anything, like I could take on the world (never ever do that again) so I proceeded to drop my CV into every single hotel I’ve ever wanted to work in but was always too afraid to try. Shame on you for giving me strength, because it quickly disappeared and I found myself faced with a million billion interviews with a million billion snotty companies that hated me and my cheek for even thinking I could work for them.

      So let’s see, which embarrassing interview should I tell you about first? Hmm … there are so many to choose from. Well, let’s start with the most recent, shall we? Yesterday I had an interview to work at the reception in the Two Lakes Hotel – you know, that really posh one in the city? The front of the building is made entirely of glass so you can see the big bright glistening chandeliers dripping down from miles away. At night-time the building looks like it’s on fire, it’s so bright. The restaurant is on the top floor so that you can look out over the entire city. It really is very beautiful.

      But it’s also one of those places where there’s a guy (actually, more of a gentleman) dressed in one of those cloak things and a top hat who stands at the door and refuses to let anyone in. It must have taken me about ten minutes just to get inside the door. He just wouldn’t listen, just kept saying that I needed to be a resident. Honestly, how could anybody ever get to be a resident if they don’t let you in the door?