My Girl George - Chapter 1

George would always remember the day she turned a corner and ran into her future.
The sun was shining but the air was cool, typical for a late autumn Canterbury day. The inner-city streets were bustling despite it being a Sunday afternoon. A recently built market ensured shoppers had been drawn back into the city since major earthquakes had caused devastation several years ago. But it was the new library that brought George here. She had spent the last few hours “lost” in all the new building had to offer, which for her was mostly peace and quiet and a mindful space to just be. Obviously not so mindful, as she had then by force of habit jumped on the wrong bus to go home. Only when she noticed they were travelling south instead of east out of the city did she realise her mistake, and she was now walking back the three blocks to the bus exchange to catch the correct bus.
She paused with interest outside a recently renovated corner building with a freshly signwritten window. Big red letters with a gold border announced that it was Grumpy’s Bar. Beneath that, a piece of cardboard had been taped to the inside of the glass, with the handwritten words “Opening soon.” Then in smaller letters beneath that “Cleaner wanted. Enquire within.”
She frowned as she tried to peer through the window, confirming what the main sign implied. Yes, they were closed. The lights were off and nobody was home. That much was clear. So, why did the sign say “Enquire within” if the bar wasn’t open yet? She stood for a moment with her hands on her hips, pondering the situation. Her part-time hours at the supermarket had not been cutting it for some time now, and she had been looking for work over the last few months but not finding anything suitable. This was fate, surely? A small cleaning job would mean she could work two jobs and almost earn a fulltime wage. Then, maybe, she could move off her best friend’s couch and find her own place.
Hearing voices drifting around the corner of the building, George stepped out towards the roadside so she could peer into the next street. Male voices and laughter wafted down to her, but she couldn’t see anybody. She could see a concrete step and an alcove, so she assumed it was another door into the building. There was also a small truck parked at the curb, its passenger window rolled partially down, and one of the back doors open and hanging over the footpath.
She walked over. Glancing down to find her footing for the concrete step up, she didn’t see the man carrying one end of an antique sofa walking backwards towards her through the open door. The man at the other end of the sofa saw her only when it was too late, and his shouted warning of “Nate, look out,” coincided with the sound of her sharp intake of breath as she looked up to see his elbow coming hard and fast towards her face. The force of his arm meeting her cheek bone caused her to take a step backwards and she stumbled as her feet found the footpath behind her once more.
“Ow.” She turned and leaned back against the building, rubbing the stinging side of her face as the two men hurriedly backed the couch the rest of the way out of the building and set it down on the concrete.
“Are you okay?” She felt a hand on her shoulder and she looked up with the one eye that wasn’t clamped shut with her hand over it to see the most amazing blue eyes she could ever remember seeing. She felt the breath go out of her again but this time it wasn’t from the impact of being backed into. This guy Nate was tall, with black hair and lightly freckled pale skin. He blinked, gazing at her expectantly.
“Geez, you got her good.” Nate’s companion now joined them. Slightly shorter than his friend, this one had tousled brown hair. He was nowhere near as good looking as his friend, but if you saw him first you wouldn’t look away. He simply paled in comparison to Nate.
She forced a smile. “I’m good. It’s okay.” But her cheek pounded. She forced her eye open, squinting into the low afternoon light through her fingers.
Nate took her fingers and gently pried her hand away from her face. “Oh yeah, that one’s gonna leave a mark.” He grinned, flashing straight white teeth and dimpled cheeks. “Come and sit down.”
She followed him, involuntarily as he still had hold of her fingers, letting him push her gently down onto the upholstered sofa they had unceremoniously dumped in the middle of the footpath.
She giggled. The whole scene seemed completely absurd. “I’m okay, really.”
“She’s laughing, she must be okay.”
Nate sat beside her, glancing up at his companion with a grin before looking back at her. “That’s Zac. I’m Nathan. I’m really sorry we ran into you.”
She shook her head. The throbbing in her cheek had now become a dull ache and she felt much more normal. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going.”
“Where were you going?” Nathan asked, glancing back over his shoulder into the space they had been bringing the sofa from.
George followed his gaze, seeing that the large open area was mostly empty. She could understand his question. She inclined her head back towards the corner of the street. “I was looking for the owner of the bar. I heard voices so I thought he might be around here.”
Nathan and Zac looked at each other, both uttering an “Ah” sound, as if it made complete sense.
“You were looking for Jesse?” Nathan asked.
She shrugged. “If that’s who owns the bar, then I guess so.”
“Well, you’re in luck,” Zac said. “He’s around here somewhere.”
“You wanna go find him, buddy?” Nathan suggested.
“Oh, yeah, sure.” Zac disappeared back into the building, bellowing, “Jesse!”
George looked down at the sofa she had been placed on. It was obviously old. It had a hand-carved wooden frame, and the deep red velvet covering was pinned with what looked like the original brass tacks. “Nice couch. You guys are moving out?”
Nate smiled. “Yeah. Shop’s been shut for a while. We’re just helping Jesse get the last of his dad’s stuff out.”
Voices drifted out of the building and they both turned as Zac returned into the daylight once more, followed by a lanky man who appeared to be only slightly older than the other two.
George stood up as he approached, surprised by how young he appeared. Surely this wasn’t the owner? He wore a pair of camouflage pants, the kind you would buy from an Army surplus store, and tan lace up boots. A black T-shirt and short haircut also hinted at the fact that maybe he came from an armed services background. She was suddenly aware of her own appearance and wished that she’d thought to come back another day when she wasn’t wearing ripped jeans and a hoodie, her hair pulled back into a messy ponytail.
“Hey.” He lifted his chin in greeting as he stepped down off the concrete step towards her. “I’m Jesse.”
“Georgina.” She extended her hand in greeting and he took it with a firm grip. “Are you the owner of the bar?”
“That’s me.”
“Wow, you’re young.” The words came out before she had a chance to shut her brain down. Her mother had often said she had a faulty brain-to-mouth filter.
Judging by their matching grins, Nathan and Zac had found that amusing, but Jesse was not smiling.
“What can I do for you?” he asked.
“Oh, I saw the sign in the window.” She pointed back towards the bar. “You’re looking for a cleaner?”
“I am. Are you interested?” His gaze shifted over her, as if he was analysing her physique.
“I’m very interested.”
“Have you cleaned before?”
“Yes. Part-time when I was in high school. My mother and I cleaned schools and commercial premises.”
“Great.” He seemed to think about it for a moment. “Come in and I’ll show you around.”
“Now?” George asked with surprise.
“I don’t see why not. Unless you have somewhere else to be?”
George didn’t have to think about that one. No, she had nowhere else to be. That, in short, summed up her life right now.
She bit her bottom lip. “Not at all.”
Jesse looked at Nathan and it was then George witnessed him smile for the first time. “Get this thing off the footpath, will you?”
Nathan grinned and gave him a mock salute. “Yesth, bosth!”
It was clear the three men were firm friends.
“Follow me.” Jesse was all business again as he turned his back to George and began to walk away.
Passing Nathan on the way, she mouthed a Thank you. As Zac took up his position at the other end of the sofa, Nathan winked and smiled at her. The two men resumed their banter as they wrestled the two-seater towards the back of the truck.
George smiled. She liked that Nate guy. Then she turned and concentrated up the step once more, this time making sure there was nothing blocking her path. She had to take a couple of running steps to catch up to Jesse. His long legs took him further than hers in the same space of time, but he waited for her in the middle of the floor of what was once a retail space. Faded blue carpet mirrored a pale blue ceiling and George looked up to admire what once would have been a majestic fashion statement—back in the nineteen-seventies. Three chandeliers dripping crystal shards and strings of glass beads adorned what could only be described as a plaster masterpiece.
“Wow,” she breathed as she admired the work that must have gone into the stippling and arranging of the plaster moulds.
“That’s one word for it,” Jesse chuffed as he followed her gaze.
“This used to be a shop?” George asked as she took in the rest of the room. An open door at the back of the space revealed a small kitchenette with an angled ceiling. George guessed by the look of it that it was partially under stairs on the opposite side of the wall. Like a little kitchen cupboard.
“Yeah, it was an antique shop. This space and the one next door.” He indicated to a wood panelled door at the end of the interior wall. “Soon to be renovated and leased out if I can let it.”
George nodded but didn’t say anything, letting him continue instead.
“So, there would be this space to clean once it’s leased.” He walked to the door and opened it. “The rest of the original space, as you know, has been converted to a bar.”
George followed him into a wide hallway. Looking left, she could see the stairs she had guessed would be there, leading up to a small landing that ended with another door. A chained sign across the bottom of the stairway announced “Private. No Entry”.
Jesse waved his hand in that direction. “That’s my apartment. I don’t expect you to clean that.” The corners of his mouth curled into an almost smile. “I think I can manage that myself.” He led her down beside the stairs towards what seemed like the back of the building. He took a bunch of keys from his pocket, linked to the belt loop of his pants with a metal dog clip, and unlocked another door, revealing a well-stocked cleaning cupboard. This room shared a wall with the cupboard kitchen. “Everything should be in there, but just let me know if there’s anything you need.”
George surveyed him with curiosity. He was speaking like she already had the job but the only thing he had asked her so far was if she had any experience.
He promptly closed the door, locked it, and turned to another door. Selecting another key on his keyring, he unlocked the door and went through the back of the building. From the roadside you would hardly know this space existed.
Mirrors lined both of the longer walls, cut in half by wooden handrails. Polished wooden floors extended the length of the room. This space was easily the size of a basketball court.
“Wow, is this a dance studio?” Georgina marvelled at the existence of such an amazing space, hidden from view.
“Ten points for observation.” Jesse’s voice was laced with sarcasm, but his smile couldn’t hide his pride for this area, or the fact that somebody else was impressed by its grandeur. “It needs to be kept like this. Have you used a floor polisher before?”
George nodded. “Absolutely.”
“The mirrors might put you off but they don’t need much, just touching up when five-year-old ballerinas get their sticky fingers off track.” He pointed toward the other end of the hall. “There is a small kitchenette, toilets, and a shower down there.”
George smiled. “Is it used frequently?”
A sad look crossed Jesse’s chiselled features. “Not as much as it should be.” He forced a smile. “And not always as it was intended. These days we have salsa dancers, line dancers, ballroom dancers, even a karate group that hire this room.” He shrugged. “It pays the bills.”
“You own this building?”
Jesse shook his head. “No. My dad owns it. He ran the antique shop for years. My mother…this was my mother’s baby. She was a dancer and then a dance teacher, for as long as I can remember.”
George closed her eyes, suddenly in love with Jesse’s parents. “They worked next to each other,” she almost breathed out. What a romantic notion. Working together, living together—raising a family together.
Jesse’s short laugh brought her out of her reverie. “Don’t get carried away.”
George’s face reddened. “Sorry. But it must have been nice.”
Jesse shook his head, dismissing her. “Anyway, would you like to see the bar?”
George clasped her hands behind her back, remembering this was, after all, a job interview. “Yes, please continue the tour.”
She followed Jesse back the way they had come in, past the stairs and onto the locked door on the opposite side of the corridor from where they had started.
Finding the right key on his chain, Jesse unlocked the door. “There’s a spare set of keys somewhere but I’ll check them all to make sure you can get into everything.”
Again, Jesse was speaking as if she already had the job. She kept quiet in case anything she said jinxed it, simply followed him through to the bar area. Like the recently sign-written window, everything in this space looked new. Of course, it was.
A range of low tables and wooden bar leaners had been strategically placed around the long timber bar, which was a focal point of the room. A pool table stood in one corner, cues all lined up and ready for someone to take them off the wall. A partition wall had been erected next to that, hiding a large empty alcove behind. George peered into the space.
“Pokie room. Machines will be here this week.” Jesse answered her silent question.
“Ah.” She turned back to the other side of the bar. A small stage and wooden dance floor lay barren but doors either side showed exits to male and female bathrooms. Another alcove housed a modern looking jukebox and a cash machine.
Jesse pointed to a table. “The staff will wipe the tables and put the stools up at the end of the night so you can get on with cleaning the floor when you come in, and they obviously keep the bar area maintained, so it’s vacuuming, cleaning the hard surface floors and the stage, then of course the bathrooms.”
“Sounds pretty straight forward.”
“It’s not rocket science.” Jesse gave her a level stare. “I just need someone with a good eye for detail who’s reliable and will turn up.”
“What are the hours?”
“The bar will be open from ten in the morning Wednesday to Sunday, so I need you in and out before we open. The other areas are an if-and-when scenario. The studio space needs cleaning once a week, but you can break that down between toilets and floors over two separate days.” He shrugged. “I would think to start it will be fifteen to twenty hours a week. Sometimes more depending on how often the studio is used.”
George knew she would have to shuffle some hours at her other job, but it wouldn’t be a problem. She had worked at the supermarket since her fifteenth birthday and had never asked for much. Other staff asked for different shifts all the time, and there were plenty of staff so management were quite flexible.
Without even waiting for her response, Jesse asked, “Can I email you a contract?”
George’s eyes widened. “Are you saying I have the job?”
“If you want it.”
Did she? Fifteen hours per week wasn’t much, to most people. Plus, it locked her into the possibility of seven days of work per week, depending on alternate shifts at her other job. But to George it spelled freedom. Financial freedom for one. Added to the twenty hours she already had at the supermarket, it would be as close to a fulltime wage as she had ever had.
She grinned. “Yes, of course.”
“Great.” He stuck out his hand and she took it, shaking briefly to seal the deal. Then, letting go, he fished his mobile phone from his back pocket. Pressing a few buttons, he turned it around and held it out to her. “Put your number in here and I’ll send you a text. If you reply with your email address, I’ll send through a contract.”
George thumbed in her number, typing “George” for her name, then handed the phone back.
She watched his eyebrow curved up with curiosity as he surveyed her entry. She had, after all, introduced herself as Georgina.
“Most people just call me George.”
He tapped a few more buttons, seemingly adding his own tag to her name so he would remember who she was. “Well, George, hopefully you get this.”
Her own phone buzzed in her hoodie pocket just as she reached in to get it. “I think I just did.” An unknown number flashed up on her screen. She smiled. “Yep, got it.” Unlocking her phone, she quickly hit reply to the message and typed in her email address, then hit the send button. She would save the contact information later.
His phone gave a ding of response. He gave a short laugh. “You didn’t have to respond that quickly.”
She shrugged. “Well, now I know you have it.”
He gave her a comical look after surveying his phone. “My little pony?”
George felt her cheeks redden at his question. Why had she not changed her email address already? Maybe she should have gone home and done that before she sent it to him. “Georgina Godfrey. The initials G-G has led to all sorts of nicknames over the years.”
She paused to let the association sink in. The look of amusement on his face told her it had computed.
She added, “My Little Pony is much better than Horsey-face.”
Jesse shot her a look of understanding. “Oh, I hear you. Starting school twenty years ago with a girl’s name was never easy.”