The End of the Despair
By kharlow
- 229 reads
The End of the Despair
As Peter walked into the job centre, he knew that he absolutely had to
get this job. As he walked past the green pin board full of minimum
wage dead end jobs, he knew he had to do well. As he gave his name to
the wan, grey-haired receptionist he knew that he had to go home with
good news. As he sat down on the hard wooden bench and surveyed the
other interviewees, he knew that he didn't stand a chance.
With tremendous dread, just as he had each morning for the last four
months, Peter had kissed his pretty young wife goodbye and walked with
trepidation from the flat down to the front door. Every day he stood in
front of the gilt edged hall mirror and forced himself to look into his
own grey eyes. Most days he couldn't and instead stared at the small
crescent shaped crack in the plaster next to the half dead hydrangea.
Today was no different. Absent-mindedly pulling out a few of the last
green leaves and stuffing another unpaid red reminder bill into his
pocket, Peter set off for the job centre.
He hadn't managed to pay the rent last month, or this month either. He
had taken out another loan, just so Sandra wouldn't have to do without
anything. She was so busy finishing her degree that Peter just couldn't
tell her how bad things were. She didn't know that the landlord wasn't
giving them another extension on the rent. She didn't know that he
hadn't paid the council tax in two months. She didn't know that both
the electricity and the gas companies had passed his details on to the
debt collectors. And she didn't know just how horrible he felt about
it.
Peter wasn't a bad person. He knew that he should have told her when he
lost his job. She would have understood. She would have helped him to
look for something else. She would have stood by him. But it was too
late now. How could he explain why he had left it so long to tell her?
Things had now hit rock bottom and nothing; nothing could make the
situation any worse.
Peter wasn't a sales person. He couldn't meet the targets. They had
warned him, and he tried. He really tried. But it wasn't good enough.
Four months ago he came home from work, never to return again, and all
of the worrying really began. He ate through their savings, took out
loans, new credit cards and store cards. And now the bills were coming
in so quickly and there was nowhere to get more money. They were in
trouble and it was all Peter's fault.
As Peter looked at the other candidates, he thought of what he would do
if he didn't get the job. How could he break the news to Sandra that
they would have to move out of the flat that she had spent so much time
decorating? The flat that she loved. How could he tell her that they
were in thousands of pounds of debt? He couldn't think about that now.
He had to concentrate on getting this terrible job. He had dreams once.
He had visions of what a great life he would have. He never dreamed
that he would be so desperate to get a low paying dead-end job.
One by one, the other interviewees were being called into the office.
They all seemed to rise off of the hard benches and cross the room with
exuberant confidence. His turn was coming soon. Peter reached into his
pocket and pulled out that morning's post. Amidst the alarming red
reminders and demanding final notices was a letter from the landlord.
They were being evicted in two weeks. Peter struggled to swallow the
lump developing in his throat, and with trembling shameful hands he
stuffed the letter back into his pocket. Oh, how could he break the
news to his wonderful Sandra? As he fought back the shame welling in
his eyes, his name was called.
Standing outside of the door to the flat, Peter contemplated the best
way to break the terrible news to his lovely new wife. He had such a
terrible bombshell to drop, he didn't have a job, they didn't have a
home and he had massive debts. She was completely unaware. With shaking
hands he struggled with the keys and prepared himself for the mortified
look he expected to see on her face.
With a deep breath Peter opened the door. "Sandra?" he called.
"Oh Peter!" She ran into the room almost squealing with delight. "I
have some news for you."
"Please Sandra, I need to tell you something" Peter said
solemnly.
"No, me first! Oh Peter, I'm so happy. I'm pregnant!"
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