Copyright: Charmaine Daisley – January 2nd 2004
Emily Darwood poked her head through her bedroom window. “You
guys mind your manners today” she shouted at her twin boys, Sherlon and Sherwin
as they piled into the daycare minivan out front. “Mrs. Mentor has a big enough
job on her hands making things run smoothly at day care without you two pulling
pranks all the time.”
Convinced that her words would assure proper behaviour from
the tiny duo for at least half-hour, she pulled her head inside and closed the
window.
“Now what?” she asked herself aloud. If something in the way
of a job did not happen soon, she would definitely be in a financial bind –
maybe even lose the house. Her small savings were running out and even as
optimistic as she was about most things, she had to admit she was beginning to
panic a little about her situation. This was the fifth month since her divorce
from Jeff, her ex-husband, and the twins’ father. He had fought her hard and
cruelly. And the fault of the break-up was not even hers. It was only through
her resolve, and the help of her lawyer, that she made it through those days.
In the end, she had gotten custody of the boys, the house, and a small monthly
stipend from Jeff. The house was a blessing. At least she did not have to
resort to living in a cramped apartment downtown. But it was a blessing she
might soon lose. Jeff’s stipend barely took care of food, clothes and bills,
and now that she was out looking for a job, she had to dip into her already
meager savings to pay daycare.
“Just be cool”, she calmed herself as she felt fresh tears
welling up at the corners of her eyes. Her hands were too late in wiping them
away and they trickled down her cheeks forming a stalactite at the edge of her
chin.
She reached for the newspaper classifieds that lay on her
bed. She had stayed up practically all last night going over the job offerings
for something suitable. Not that there was a shortage of decent jobs, just that
she was not adequately skilled for the jobs available. Until now that had not
been a problem. She had married Jeff five years ago. She was nineteen years old
and straight out of high school. But that was not a problem for Jeff Darwood.
He was four years older than her, a young doctor at a major city hospital and
filled with plans of going into private practice. A few months after they met,
he did. Jeff’s bedside manner proved excellent and his practice grew rapidly.
So, when they decided to get married there was no question as to her role - she
would be the proud stay-home wife of a prominent, budding doctor. Whatever
else, he had always provided well for his young bride - and their twin boys -
when they came along two years into the marriage. But all that had changed now.
Jeff was gone and so was all the financial stability to which she had become
accustomed.
Wiping her face, she turned to the classifieds with fresh
resolve. She had circled three possibilities – a day nurse for an elderly
couple, a daytime babysitter and a night-cleaner at a recording studio. She
moved to the phone and dialed the numbers. The day nurse and babysitter jobs
were taken, the night cleaning position was not. It was not exactly the best
hours to work considering her young boys, but she decided to still attend the
interview in one hours’ time.
--------------------------
“I’m here to be interviewed for the night cleaning job?!”
Emily squeaked, feeling a little unsure of herself.
“Oh yes. Please have a seat Ms. Darwood, someone will see
you in a few minutes” the receptionist directed her to a row of chairs. Twenty
nerve-wrecking minutes later she was summoned into an office just behind the
receptionist’s station. The office was pleasantly decorated, perhaps in keeping
with the personality of the man seated behind the desk. He introduced himself
as Mr. Brown, studio manager and “just about everything around here.” He
explained the terms of the job to her – 6:00 p.m. to 10:00 p.m., Monday to
Saturday, $500 per week, health and insurance benefits.
“It’s hard work,” he cautioned. You’ll have seven offices
and the recording areas to dust, vacuum, mop and polish. And you’ll be
responsible for emptying the evening’s trash before you leave at nights.”
Emily sauntered out of the studio feeling tremendously more
confident than she did when she walked in one hour before. Then, she did not
have a job. Now she did. Then, she did not know how her mortgage would be paid.
Now she did. Then, she had no clue about how anything would work out. Now, she
had a decent enough start to turning things around. It was already her eighth
week at Voices Unlimited Recording Studio.
Things were pretty hectic around the place, even at nights.
She gathered there was some kind of hyped up auditioning going for the past
three weeks, but she wasn’t sure what it was all about and she didn’t ask any
questions - though most people were pretty friendly toward her, she didn’t
think it was in her place to ask anyone what all the activity was about.
As Mr. Brown had promised, it was hard work. But she wasn’t
complaining. Things had worked out super with the boys in terms of a night
babysitter. Mrs. Mentor had been very understanding of her situation and had
offered to do the night sitting job for almost the same money as before, plus,
she came over to Emily’s house to watch the boys. She knew Mrs. ‘M’ was doing
her a tremendous favour, one she hoped she would be able to repay some day. She
felt a little sad being away from the boys at bedtime though, and tonight was
especially sad.
Tonight was her anniversary. Exactly five years ago she had
said, “I do” to Jeff Darwood. She missed him sorely. She hadn’t realized how
much until now. Quite forgetting where she was, Emily gave in to her sadness
and began singing her favourite blues song. She had a beautiful voice. Everyone
was always requesting her to sing at church or local charity events. She never
considered herself a real singer or performer though and always felt a little
shy in front of her audience. Tonight though she had no audience. She was
singing to herself, just to sing the blues away.
In the middle of belting out the chorus, Emily heard the
door to the office she was cleaning creak. She spun around to see Mr. Brown
staring at her in disbelief.
“Emily, you can sing?!” he half asked, half exclaimed. She
was too embarrassed to answer. She had no idea anyone would hear her singing.
Mr. Brown continued: “Well, well, well. Do you know how long
and hard and far and wide I’ve been searching for a voice like yours? I couldn’t
believe my ears just now when I heard that voice coming from this room. It’s a
downright miracle! Mr. Hughes would be so relieved that I’ve found the lead
singer for his band.
“Lead singer? Band? What are you talking about, Mr. Brown?
And who is Mr. Hughes?” asked Emily.
“Oh, Mr. Brian Hughes is the manager of the Sensational
Sisters. Their lead female vocalist has gone solo and the band has been looking
for a voice like yours for weeks.
“The Sensational Sisters?” Emily’s mind raced. She could not
believe what she was hearing. The Sensational Sisters was probably THE most
popular pop band in the universe! Did she even dare to dream?
Mr. Brown’s excitement interrupted her thoughts. “And to
think, young lady, you’ve been right under my nose all these weeks. My, my, my!
Come on hon, drop that mop right now. It looks like I’ll be placing an ad for
another night cleaner.”
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