Are you coming to bed?’ Susie asked, ‘or is your entire weekend going to be devoted to the firm?’ Malcolm Cummings, Commissioning Editor for Watson Tyler (U.K.), the largest American publishing company in England, pressed “save” and closed his laptop.

‘Sorry babe, coming now. I’ll sleep on this and promise I’ll have tomorrow free for you and Jessie.’ He had indeed been working most of Saturday on company business, although this time it did concern him more than the work he brought home some weekends. Sandy, his P.A. was moving to Dorset. Her husband had been offered a partnership in a leading south coast law firm and after much deliberation they had decided to relocate. For the past month Human Resources had been processing applications for Sandy’s job. From the initial 172 applicants, they had interviewed 30 possible replacements and from these had drawn up a short list of five. Malcolm had spent the previous week interviewing one of these candidates each day and had promised them a decision by Monday of the following week.

Susie had prepared lunch after they returned from the supermarket on Saturday morning, and they had both done their best to appease Jessie, their six year old daughter. She was disappointed that because her Daddy had to work, again, they would not be able to spend the afternoon at Kid’s Kingdom, a treat she had been promised all week. Since his promotion the previous year, work had encroached more and more on Malcolm’s family time and both Susie and Jessie were beginning to resent this. Malcolm would argue that the extra money that came with the job had improved their standard of living and allowed them to take better holidays. They had also been able to enrol Jessie at the exclusive St. Erconwald’s Preparatory School. On several occasions Malcolm had to remind Susie that were it not for his job, she would not be the proud owner of her precious dark green 4×4. After lunch Malcolm retired to his study to decide on the most suitable person to work alongside him for nine or ten hours a day.

He spread the application forms across his desk and on top of each went the handwritten notes he had made at the interviews. He picked up Monday’s file on Amanda Gray and recalled the impression this beautiful 26 year old Canadian had made on him. She had extended a perfectly manicured hand as she crossed the room to take a seat in front of his desk. Her silky jet black hair was cut in a bob which framed a delicate oval face, and her eyes were a striking shade of aquamarine. Her complexion was flawless and Malcolm wondered whether this was due to natural beauty or the expert application of cosmetics. He reminded himself that applicants would be considered purely on their qualifications and suitability for the post, and good looks should not give anyone an unfair advantage. However, Amanda’s looks would ensure she stood out in any crowd.

Tell me a little about yourself.’ said Malcolm. ‘Well, after completing a three year media studies course at uni, I travelled for eighteen months and spent two of those in England. When I returned home I was lucky enough to be taken on at the Ontario Echo. I started in the typing pool where I brushed up my office skills and ended up as secretary to the Circulation Manager. It was such a shock when the paper folded,’ she said with a hint of sadness. ‘I decided to come back to England and have been working as a temp. for the past six months.’

‘Why do you think you would be suitable for this job?’ This was a question Malcolm knew he would be tired of asking by the end of the week, but hoped the answers he received would help him to glean an insight into the character of each applicant. Amanda thought for a moment, and replied ‘Well, I’m efficient, hard working and get on well with people.’

‘Sometimes I’m here until after 8:00 o’clock. Could I rely on you to stay behind with me when necessary?’ ‘Well I wouldn’t do that too often, but now and again it wouldn’t hurt’. This response did not fill Malcolm with confidence and he hoped her answers to the next few questions would give her a chance to redeem herself.

Louise Fairbanks seemed to glide into his office on Tuesday morning, such was her deportment. She was a tall, elegant girl with long blonde hair which she wore in a pony tail. Malcolm was immediately impressed by the manner in which she introduced herself. ‘Good morning Mr Cummings, thank you for seeing me.’ He imagined how her dignified poise and soft voice would calm the most heated discussion between himself and an irate author. Louise had moved to London from Liverpool six years ago, with a degree in Dance and Drama. For the last three years she had been P.A. to the Development Director of Sunrise Studios, Covent Garden, where she also gave dance lessons three nights a week. This supplementary income helped to offset the expense of living in Central London, but to her dancing was more than a part time job. The studio had given her excellent references and were pleased that she wanted to continue with her dance classes if she got the job at Watson Tyler. Malcolm outlined the duties entailed as his P.A. and asked what she enjoyed most about her current post.

‘I love being able to work on my own initiative, and being involved in the planning stages of new projects. When the studio introduced ballet classes for the under 7s they used a video of me dancing Aurora in Sleeping Beauty, every little girl’s dream part. It was exciting being in the video and also working on the administration for the project.’

Malcolm listed a wide range of genres published by Watson Tyler and asked ‘Are you a big reader yourself?’ ‘I’ve read many books on dance theory and performance etc. which help in my teaching role. To relax I like some modern authors, but prefer the classics. I have just finished Zola’s Germinal which I thoroughly enjoyed.’

When Sandy brought in coffee midmorning Louise rose gracefully from her chair to allow her to place the tray on Malcolm’s desk. When the interview was over Louise delicately shook Malcolm’s hand once more and walked serenely to the door. Wednesday had started off badly. It was wet and miserable and the appearance of Kim Long, with her hair flattened by the rain, did nothing to brighten up the day. According to her c.v. this well qualified 40 year old widow had, for the past ten years been working as office manager for the Chief Education Officer of a local authority, heading a team of support staff.

‘Ten years is quite a long time to work for one person’ said Malcolm, ‘you must get on well. Why do you want to leave now?’ It emerged that her boss had taken early retirement and a woman of a similar age to Kim had been appointed in his place. Kim launched into a long list of complaints aimed at this woman, and the working practices she had introduced. Kim felt that these changes were unworkable and some were unreasonable.

‘She even went so far as to ban all personal items being displayed in offices. Does that seem right to you?’ She had taken this edict as a personal slight because she had always taken comfort from the photograph of her late husband which she kept on her desk. She had no qualms about relaying full details of her husband’s car crash.

‘He was such a careful driver. It’s so unfair that because of some drunken idiot I’m left on my own. I do miss him so.’ Malcolm detected a tear about to make its pitiful journey down her cheek and he offered her a box of tissues. To change the subject he said, ‘Having worked with a support team how would you how adapt to working without one?’ ‘Well, nothing could be as difficult as having to adapt to being left on my own.’

As he showed her out, Malcolm accepted that life had not been fair to Kim, but he decided that the atmosphere she created would not be conducive to a happy workplace. He surmised this aspect of her personality had not surfaced during the initial interview with Trevor in Human Resources. Had it done so, he doubted whether she would have been short listed, despite her excellent credentials.

On Thursday he was due to see Julie Taylor at 10:15. However she had telephoned at 9:00 o’clock on her way into London from Salisbury, to say the train had been delayed by a signal failure at Basingstoke and would not arrive into Waterloo until 10:05. Malcolm wondered why anyone living in Salisbury would consider making a two hour train journey at the beginning and end of each day in order to work in London. He pondered whether this journey would present a problem and he decided to ask this as the first question of the interview. As it turned out, this was unnecessary as Julie walked into his office and said: ‘I apologise for disrupting your timetable this morning. Of course, if I were to be appointed as your P.A., I would move nearer London.’

‘I’m glad you have considered that option’ smiled Malcolm. ‘Do you have a property to sell in Salisbury, and would you have to commute before it was sold?’ ‘No, I am staying with my parents at the moment as I have just come out of a long-term relationship. We were renting and there was only two months left to run on the short hold tenancy agreement. So I could move immediately, if I get this job.’ Malcolm paused then went on ‘As I visit all the literary festivals in England during the year, and some of those which take place abroad, would you be willing to travel as part of your remit?’ ‘That would be no problem at all. I quite like travel.’ replied Julie.

As she left his office Malcolm wished her a safe journey on her way back to Salisbury. Maria Simpson arrived early for her 11:00 o’clock appointment on Friday. She greeted Malcolm with a beaming smile, revealing perfect teeth, which reminded Malcolm that his six monthly dental check-up was overdue. He took an instant liking to this bubbly Anglo-Italian woman who continued to smile throughout the interview. As well as English and Italian she was fluent in Spanish and French and Malcolm thought perhaps she was over qualified to be his P.A. However, if he did not select her, he knew her talents would be of use in another department, as Watson Tyler’s client base was expanding throughout Europe. For the past five years she had been working as secretary to the Publicity

Manager of O.U.C.H. - the Organisation for Under-privileged Children in Hackney. She was a 30 year old single mother with a seven year old son. Through her job she had witnessed the hardships some children have to endure and as a result she now fostered one, or sometimes two children of various ages and backgrounds. ‘Why do you wish to switch from working for a charitable organisation, to working in the private sector?’ enquired Malcolm ‘I love my job but O.U.C.H. is about to set up a telephone support network offering an out of hours help line, operated by volunteers. I am very keen to be involved in this. As a foster carer I feel I have enough experience to offer advice to those who ring for assistance. However, as a paid member of staff, I think my status as a volunteer would be compromised.’ Malcolm wondered how many people would sacrifice a much loved job in order to carry out voluntary work in their spare time.

The sun filtering through the bedroom curtains woke Malcolm early on Sunday morning, it was one of those perfect starts to the day that made him appreciate his good fortune. He felt as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. He had gone to bed still deliberating on the choice of Sandy’s successor, but by 2:00 o’clock in the morning he had made a decision and was happy with his selection. Jessie had climbed in between him and Susie in the middle of the night. He would pretend to be cross with her but really he liked nothing better than waking up in the morning to see the two most precious things in his life sleeping peacefully beside him. Leaving Susie and Jessie in bed, he crept downstairs to make a cup of tea. As he had been so preoccupied for most of Saturday, he decided he would treat them all to breakfast in bed. As he walked into the bedroom with the tray he said, ‘I’ve got a great day planned for us. But we must be ready to leave by 10:30.’

By 10:45 they were on the A23 heading for Brighton. After an hour or so on the beach they walked along the seafront and bought fish and chips which they sat on the sea wall and ate out of the bag, with their fingers. Jessie asked for the wrappers and when they had all been collected the three of them walked to the pier. Queuing for the dodgems Jessie said ‘Can I drive my own car please? ‘Sorry. You’re a bit too small, I’ll drive, but you can have a few goes.’

Susie watched as her husband and daughter bumped and shunted for at least half an hour. Jessie squealed with delight at every collision and Malcolm loved nothing more than to hear his daughter giggling and laughing. On the way home, as Malcolm had feared they hit traffic, so it was nearly 7 o’clock by the time they pulled into the drive.

‘You get Jess ready for bed, I’ll check my emails then I’ll be up to tuck her  in.’ said Malcolm. There were no messages so he made his way upstairs. Malcolm opened Jessie’s bedroom door just as Susie was kissing her goodnight.

‘I think there’s a little girl here needing a story’ Susie prompted. ‘I’d love to’. He looked at his beautiful wife and daughter and thought himself the luckiest man alive. ‘So what is it to be sweetheart’ he asked as he snuggled up to his little girl. ‘Read me that nursery rhyme Nanny loves, please’. Malcolm gave Jessie the illustrated book of nursery rhymes, but recited from memory,

‘Mondays child is fair of face

Tuesday’s child is full of grace,

Wednesday’s child is full of woe,

Thursday’s child has far to go,

Friday’s child is loving and giving,

Saturday’s child works hard for his living,

And the child that is born on the Sabbath day

Is bonny and blithe, and good and gay.’