Just Like the Other Girls - Claire Douglas Page 0,1

one wall. Everything is painted in tasteful neutrals. The hallway is bigger than my whole flat.

‘I’m glad to see the recent snowfall didn’t hinder your journey,’ she says stiffly, almost regretfully, as though she’d hoped I wouldn’t make the interview.

I have to stop myself apologizing for showing up. ‘The main roads are clear. And luckily my bus was running.’

‘Yes. What luck.’ She turns on her sensible low-heeled shoes towards a closed door on the left. I shove my soggy gloves into my coat pocket, then follow her. My nerves crank up a notch at the thought of meeting Mrs McKenzie, especially if she’s anything like her daughter.

‘You can go in.’ Kathryn doesn’t try to hide her irritation, which shows in her voice. Up close, I can tell she’s attractive. Her eyes are hazel behind her large glasses and she has the type of skin that looks as though it tans easily. Her hair is thick and a rich chestnut. But she’s wearing such a pinched expression that I don’t warm to her.

She tuts under her breath when I don’t move, and leans across me, engulfing me in a wave of musky perfume, to open the door.

Come on, get a grip. This is my chance to start over and get away from that awful care home, although I will miss the residents.

Tentatively I move into the room. It has high ceilings, with mismatched high-backed chairs and an inky blue velvet button-backed sofa. There’s a mahogany writing desk in the corner, next to the sash window. A well-dressed woman in a tweed pencil skirt and a pale blue jumper, pearls at her throat, sits on a chair by a huge marble fireplace, her legs crossed elegantly at the ankles. Her hair is completely white and gathered in some kind of fancy updo. She has a clipboard on her knee with what looks like notes attached, which she’s flicking through.

She lifts her eyes as I approach. They are small and a startling bright blue, like the bubblegum-flavoured Millions sweets my best friend, Courtney, used to eat when we were younger. Even though she’s sitting down I can tell she’s tall – taller than me, anyway – slim, and looks robust and strong for a woman in her late seventies.

‘Hello,’ she says, without getting up. She doesn’t take her eyes off me, even when Kathryn sits in the chair next to her. ‘You must be Una. An unusual name.’

I smile and nod as she indicates for me to sit on the sofa opposite. ‘My mum was a fan of the actress Una Stubbs. You know, who played Aunt Sally in Worzel Gummidge?’ I perch on the edge of the sofa, crossing my ankles, like her, and pulling at the hem of my skirt, which, in the presence of these two women, now feels obscenely short. ‘I know her best from Sherlock …’ I’m gabbling now.

Mrs McKenzie frowns. ‘I don’t know about that but I do know who you mean. I’ve seen her in the West End,’ she says, without smiling. My eyes flicker around the room. There is no television. She clears her throat and I sit up a bit straighter. ‘So, tell us a little about yourself.’ Her voice is plummy and I make an effort to speak correctly in what my mum used to call a telephone voice.

‘Well … I …’ I swallow. Come on, Una, don’t mess this up. Don’t be intimidated by these people just because they’re posh. I notice Mrs McKenzie’s eyes go to my legs and then back to my face. Maybe I don’t seem responsible enough. I know I look young for my age. I’m forever getting asked for ID. ‘I’ve been working in a care home for the past four and a half years, since I left higher education at eighteen. I’ve several qualifications from the college I went to on day release –’

‘Sounds like prison,’ interjects Elspeth, without smiling.

I giggle nervously, not sure if she’s making a joke. ‘It’s what they call it when your job allows you to have a day off to attend college.’

‘I see.’ She glances down at the notes on her lap and I realize it’s my CV.

‘I’ve got NVQs … and first aid.’

She looks up again. ‘So I see. Go on.’

‘And … um … I’d like a new challenge.’

‘You do understand that this is a live-in position?’ she says. ‘You’d have your own bedroom. I would need you on Saturdays but you get Wednesdays and Sundays off. We really would