Hitting refresh once again, Editia drummed her fingers on the kitchen countertop. The screen was blank aside from a circle spinning in the middle, letting her know that the computer was trying its hardest to connect to the outside world.
‘Come on,’ she muttered. ‘Come on.’
She turned slowly to the kettle, keeping one eye firmly on the laptop. Grasping for the handle, she removed the lid and turned the tap on to fill it. As she did so, the page reloaded, showing her the latest emails in her inbox. A message about using work phones ONLY for work-related tasks, a press release that had been issued about the company’s recent charity work, and an email asking her to order more stationery for an upcoming workshop. None of which she was inclined to reply to while she was on holiday.
Editia gasped as the kettle overflowed in her hand, splashing her with tepid water, and she hit the tap quickly to stop it. Why hadn’t they told her yet? Why had no one said anything at all?
Putting the kettle on to boil, she pulled an IKEA mug down from the shelf, and threw a teabag into it. She hit refresh again, and waited once more, hoping it would bring news of the job she had applied for. It would be a big step up for her, a new role that would challenge and excite her, in a completely different area of the business. Rather than being an administrator with little opportunity for progression, this role in the Compliance team would help her get on the right foot for an actual career – something she’d been hungry for since she’d started at the place.
It had been two weeks since she had applied for the job, interviewing with people she had already called colleagues for the last three years. But she knew there were strong candidates – from inside and outside the business – applying for it too. Maybe even some who had all the right qualifications, or experience already working in a similar role – none of which she could offer.
The one thing she had going for her was a knowledge of the business’ processes, and a real ambition that she hoped they would see. She’d crossed her fingers that it would be enough.
As the laptop took its time reloading, she poured her tea, picked up the device, and headed to the chair near the window. This holiday cottage they’d booked was the ultimate place to switch off and unwind. The irony. Charlie had placed reservations back in the autumn when they were looking for somewhere that would suit Toby, their three year old, but give them the space to clear their minds too. It would be the perfect pick-me-up after a long January – something to look forward to. Little did they know that it would coincide with one of the biggest moments of her career.
After the interview, when all the nerves had shaken off, and she felt like she could actually breathe again, they had told her that she would know the outcome within a week. But then another candidate had come in at the last minute, a referral from someone in the Finance team, and the whole process had been delayed by another week. Now, here she was, in the most beautiful seaside cottage, wishing desperately for superfast broadband like they had at home.
Her emails appeared on the screen, but there was still no message from the Compliance Manager or the Recruitment team. It didn’t help, of course, that the headquarters in the US were working in a very different time zone. They had told her they would have a decision by the end of the day. Editia checked her watch which displayed a photo of Toby grinning in the background. It told her that she had walked 13,424 steps that day, and that the time was 21:46. Only a few more minutes and it would be 5pm in New York. 14 more minutes and she’d know what the outcome would be.
The cottage was still while Charlie and Toby slept, exhausted from the long walk they had taken along the coast path that day. If her nervous energy wasn’t keeping her awake, Editia would be snuggled up too right now, resting her aching legs after a day filled with adventures.
This morning, they had ventured out to the next village which had a beautiful harbour, bracing the cold wind that threatened to blow them right back to the cottage, and ate some fish and chips, huddled under a small shelter for warmth. Of course there were no restaurants to sit in when the weather was absolutely torrential. Toby moaned that his chips were getting wet, and Charlie lamented that they should have gone in the opposite direction and back to the cosy pub they had found yesterday. ‘We’re here now,’ Editia had said. ‘Let’s make the most of it.’ It didn’t take much to convince Toby to go into the gift shops, and get a bag of sweets, and a fishing net for when the sun was due to come out tomorrow. Getting back to the cottage, turning the gas fire on, and huddling under a blanket was probably the best part of the day. Unless she had some good news this evening, that is.
The rain had subsided not long after they had got home, soaked to the bone. ‘Typical,’ Charlie muttered. ‘Typical,’ Toby copied, folding his arms and sighing. Charlie smirked at him before swooping him up in his arms, and flying him around the living room, Toby’s laughter reverberating off the walls. Now, the only sound was the wind howling down the chimney. No new emails had come through.
Editia put her laptop to one side and unlocked the French doors that led on to the veranda. A blast of fresh air would do her good. She pushed her feet into her wellies, and stepped outside into the dark night, her hands wrapped around her mug of tea. It was bitingly cold, and she quickly leapt back inside to grab a blanket to wrap around her shoulders before emerging once again.
There must be a reason things have turned out this way, she thought. Maybe she was meant to be here now, rather than at home where she would be worrying about what shopping she needed to get in the morning or how Toby would cope, transitioning from nursery to school next year. At least being away from the humdrum of routine had helped distract her for a little while.
From here, she had a perfect view of the beach and the moon pulling the tide. Her friend Denise had told her that the full moon in February was called the Snow Moon, although she had no idea why, and little chance of finding out until she was safely installed in a pub with proper wifi. Surely, it was due to the snow that falls in February – there couldn’t be much more to it than that.
The rhythm of the sea soothed her, like it was rocking her gently. Moonlight on the water lit up the foam, as waves crashed on the shore, before being pulled back again into the vast expanse of darkness. She was sad that Charlie and Toby had missed it – this beautiful scene that stood before her.
How long had the waves been lapping at this beach, bringing little sea creatures, rocks, and glass from all over the world to this place? Editia pondered it as the wind tugged the blanket from her shoulders, and whipped at her curls. All the people who wandered the beach looking for answers, or solace, or some sort of release. There was something about it that she just couldn’t explain. The wildness of the waves, and the moon gently pulling them back again, reining them in though they couldn’t be contained. It made her feel small, tiny in the grand scheme of things.
A raindrop splashed into her mug, and she looked up to see a black cloud above her, threatening to eclipse the moon from her view. Closing her eyes, she let the rain hit her face for a second longer before hurrying back into the warmth and cosiness of the cottage. The rain got heavier, starting to hammer at the window, and Editia pulled the curtains slightly to keep the room warm, leaving a small sliver open so she could still see the moon from where she sat. Hitting refresh, she hoped her emails would finally contain the answer she’d been hoping for. The time at the bottom of the screen read 21:58.
Editia gazed up at the Snow Moon, and desperately wished for the Compliance Manager’s name to show up when the page loaded. Her tea, full of raindrops now, was put to one side, and her leg jiggled up and down, up and down, while she waited for the internet to work once more.
21:59. It must be there by now, waiting for her to read it. The start of her next chapter.
The screen started to reload. This time, there was one new message in her inbox. Editia gasped at the sight of the Compliance Manager’s name.
‘Dear Editia,’ the opening line read.
© Allie Morgan
Allie Morgan 