I put a restraining hand on Orinoco’s collar to show him who was boss and nearly dislocated my shoulder as he lunged for one of my trainers that he’d stolen from the hallway.
‘I’ve had a look,’ I said, wearily. ‘But there’s not much out there at the moment. A lot of companies are using AI for most of their copy now. I imagine life isn’t much easier for the marketing teams who were writing the original adverts. From the tone of the email it was a generic mail shot. I suspect I’m not the only one whose job has been replaced by ChatGPT or whatever. I’m just easier to get rid of because of the zero-hours contract.’
Joe put his arm around my shoulders. ‘It’s a pretty shitty move,’ he said. ‘Just letting you know via an email circular. AndI’m sure their copy will suffer as a result. No AI package is going to be as thorough as you.’
I gave him a rueful smile. It was sweet that he was trying to make me feel better, but it didn’t solve the problem.
‘I did see something on Facebook,’ I said. ‘It’s a bit of a curveball but the public library in town – the main one by the station, not the little branch one – they’re advertising for a part-time assistant.’
Joe raised his eyebrows. ‘Have you got any library experience?’ he asked tentatively.
‘Not really,’ I said. ‘In fact, no. None at all. But, you know, I love books – and I imagine there would be training. I mean, it’s probably not the best idea. That part of town’s really rough for a start, and the hours sound fairly inflexible. I’d have to do Saturdays and evenings, and obviously when Layla’s back that wouldn’t be great. Plus, the pay is barely minimum wage.’
‘Hmmm. It would be a regular income though, even if it’s… Is he supposed to be eating that?’ Joe asked, momentarily distracted by the dog.
I looked down at the remains of my trainer currently hanging out of Orinoco’s mouth. ‘Not really,’ I said. ‘But it appears I didn’t make that clear from the outset. Maybe if he’s occupied with that it’ll stop him destroying anything else in the house?’
‘Optimistic.’ He frowned. ‘When’s he going back to Farah?’
‘Tomorrow morning,’ I said. ‘We’ve just got to make it through the night.’
He sighed. ‘Shall we FaceTime Layla,’ he said. ‘Give us a bit of a boost?’
‘Yes!’ I said instantly, not wanting to admit that I’d already spoken to her, having been on the phone chatting for over an hour before he got home.
‘Thought that’d cheer you up,’ he said, smiling as we set up the laptop.
He was right. Even though we’d spoken earlier, there was something about seeing my daughter’s face as it lit up the screen that made her much more present. Not for the first time I marvelled at the fact that ordinary people could just video-call each other whenever they felt like it. Whoever would have thought this would be possible when we were growing up? But then I guess in those days we didn’t have computers in our pockets. We didn’t have the internet, or social media, or high-resolution cameras capable of capturing our every misstep and broadcasting it to the globe in perpetuity. No wonder this generation is anxious.
‘Hello darling,’ I said, hoping to convey with my tone that she was not to mention the fact that we’d only spoken two hours ago.
‘Hi guys.’ She smiled thinly, her expression downcast.
‘What is it?’ I was instantly on high alert. It wouldn’t have taken a genius to work out that something was amiss. Her nose was red around the nostrils, and her eyes were puffy. ‘What’s happened?’
‘Oh, nothing,’ she said, shrugging. ‘A bit of a cold – not quite freshers’ flu but maybe a little dose.’
‘And that’s it?’ I asked, suspicious. She hadn’t sounded particularly bunged up or congested when I’d spoken to her earlier.
‘Poor old you,’ said Joe. ‘Have the rest of the flat got it?’
‘Dunno.’ Her bottom lip was wobbling.
‘Are you still not seeing much of them?’ I said, knowing the answer but wanting my husband to hear it too.
She shook her head. ‘I did bump into one of the boys in the kitchen earlier,’ she said. ‘Leon. He uhm – he told me that the girls were all out at a property viewing.’
‘What for?’ I scrunched up my nose.
‘Like, a shared house for second year.’
‘What?’ Joe said. ‘But you all only just arrived. What are they thinking?’
‘Lots of people are doing it apparently,’ said Layla trying to sound nonchalant. ‘Seems the rental market is really competitive, and people are saying there won’t be enough student houses for next year so – I guess if you’ve decided who you want to live with then you get on and sign a contract.’
‘But…’ I was struggling to articulate the ridiculousness of it all, ‘but, that makes no sense. You’ve had less than three weeks to get to know each other, how can you decide who you want to live withnextSeptember?’
‘I know it doesn’t make sense, Mum,’ she said, sounding frustrated. ‘But that’s just what’s happening. And there are more people here who already know each other from school than I’d realised.’
