It’s the first day of the year when the words ‘unseasonably’ and ‘mild’ are bandied around. That day in spring when you can just about get away with wearing flip-flops even though only last week it was biker boots and cable tights weather. Although the stylish little worker bees at FASH already know that this summer will be all about the pool slider, some people will always wear flip-flops. And the most faithful exponent is swinging into FASH towers.
‘Morning Sam, good weekend?’ says Emma as Sam skips through the double glass doors and slides straight into his low seat. Emma is always there early, catching up on what’s been trending across the globe overnight. Wondering which of those trends can translate into something relevant to their customers. Always eating her muesli and berries, as bursting with goodness as she is, although this morning she can’t stomach breakfast.
‘Emma,’ Sam salutes.
Lucy races through the glass doors, plonks her coffee on her desk and doesn’t even sit down on her chair, next to Emma’s, before sending a quick email to Maya – who isn’t there yet – to confirm the date for her to present to the executive team. Lucy doesn’t have a clue Maya might have doubts about going for the site editor job, and Maya the people-pleaser would never want to tell her, through fear of letting her down.
*
Maya sits down and plugs in her earphones. She is facing backwards on an Inferior Train. Matted gum sits on matted blue faux-velveteen upholstery with white chevrons all over it, but Maya accepts that it is just one of those days. Maya wears a white Bardot top tucked into a lilac circle skirt. She has dressed up in the hope that Train Man will come back to her this morning, but she didn’t see him race into the station from the other side of the sweeping approach where buses, bikes and cars pull up with brakes squeaking. She didn’t see him hurry through the ticket barrier and under the subway where the train tracks rattle overhead and shake the tunnel roof. And she didn’t see him walk with purpose up the platform. Maya hasn’t seen Train Man for over two weeks and she feels empty. The possibility that Train Man might have moved away is something Maya doesn’t want to accept.
Music starts. Maya closes her eyes and on the inside of her eyelids she sees dappled sunshine poking through the trees from yesterday’s run. Worry and absence and yearning took her further into the woods beyond Hazelworth than she had gone in a long time. Music gets louder, a crescendo builds, and through closed eyes Maya remembers how tired her legs felt when she got home and started baking for another Velma visit.
As the train gathers pace, Maya is distracted by the uncomfortable feeling of an Inflatable Arm nudging into her waist, as it was a few minutes ago. Maya ignores the sensation and hugs the pale green leather bag on her lap for comfort as she is pulled back into a rhythmic doze. The quickening beat and the rising whir of the track beneath fades as PJ Harvey starts to roar.
Time and space muddle and a befuddled Maya awakens and opens her eyes after a jolt on the line. The jolt all regular commuters know, but still, every day, it catches them out. Eyes open. The man she doesn’t know but loves is there sitting opposite, looking down, lost in a book. Darker skinned. His face more thoughtful looking than ever. Sad eyes. The crescendo of PJ Harvey makes Maya well up. One day… we’ll float. Take life as it comes.
*
‘Do you have time to grab a quick drink after class?’ Maya asks, as she files her papers away into a lever arch file.
‘Sure thing, honey, what’s up?’
Maya pauses and waits for Gareth and Cecily to leave before she says any more. They are the last of the remaining classmates and are bickering about who’s going to drive home. Cecily passed her driving test last week but had a near-miss with a post in the supermarket car park as they arrived tonight. They nod farewell mid argument and Maya and Velma smile at them.
‘I have to give a presentation in the morning at work.’
‘Wow, big deal, tell me more,’ says Velma as she shuffles towards the door.
‘Well it’s more like an interview, I’ve been asked to go for the site editor job. And I’ve prepared a presentation for it.’ Last month, Lucy finally got sign-off to replace herself so she can focus on being a senior strategist at FASH, and Maya has been nervously putting together her pitch. Trouble is, she’s not very good at selling herself.
‘Amazing. Wanna do a run-through with me?’
‘God no, I’d be too embarrassed.’ Maya hasn’t told Velma much about what she does for a living. When they meet they tend to talk about matters of the heart or family or their adventures overseas, and Maya feels that FASH is too trivial for a woman who answers every single one of the thousands of letters she receives a year, each with candour and kindness.
‘Well how can I help?’ Velma asks cheerfully, happy to extend her day and for company on a balmy evening.
*
Thirty minutes later they are sitting in the pizzeria beneath Velma’s apartment. Bustling and busy despite it being 10 p.m. on a Tuesday in March.
‘I’m just not great at standing up in front of a crowd as it is, but all of FASH’s big guns will be there.’ Maya takes a sip of her limoncello and smooths down the arm of her floral bomber jacket.
Velma tilts her head contemplatively. ‘You stand up in front of us every week. I think you’ll be just dandy. Practise tonight one more time at home straight through, then just go there. Be who you are. Make eye contact and engage.’ Maya drinks in Velma’s advice and nods. ‘But that’s you all over, Maya. You’re not showy or overwhelming. You are warm, you are interesting, you look interested, and you listen.’ Velma turns the stem of her red wine glass as she talks. Maya looks her in the eye. ‘Don’t forget that even when you’re presenting you need to listen. Listen to their questions and give thoughtful answers.’
Maya nods again.
‘But really, being yourself is enough,’ Velma says with the brush of a hand.
Maya’s heard that from Velma before and still not acted on it. She wishes she had Velma’s confidence.
Maya takes the last sip of zingy limoncello and changes the subject.
‘How’s Madison getting along?’
‘Oh she’s doing fine, thirty-five weeks now, still working like a donkey, but you know those New York women, they’re tough.’ Velma laughs. ‘In fact take some advice from a New Yorker. New York women don’t question whether they’re good enough for a promotion, they feel entitled to it. I suspect you’re entitled to yours. Your boss urged you to go for it, so clearly she thinks you’re amazing. Just believe it yourself.’
Maya blushes. ‘Thanks Velma.’
‘You’re welcome. Now go home and get your beauty sleep. Not that you need it, you have a glow about you tonight.’
Maya’s tired eyes light up as she remembers to tell Velma. ‘Oh. Train Man was back on the train yesterday.’
‘I thought as much.’