THE JOB

As he shut the door behind him Dave punched the air with delight.
“Yesss!” he crowed, dancing a little jig in the corridor. Pamela, the Sales Manager’s secretary, came out of her office and caught him in the act.
“I take it you got it then?” she grinned.
“Er, yes,” he replied, flushing. “How did you guess?”
“Can’t think.” she said, still smiling. “Anyway, congratulations, and I look forward to working with you. See you later.” and she carried on walking down the corridor.
He returned to his own desk thinking about his new job. He’d worked really hard for this promotion and he was full of ideas for the future of the department.
“My department” he amended to himself. When Mr. Anstruther retired at the end of the month he would be the new Sales Manager! He could hardly believe it.
All day he tried without success to keep the smile off his face. He didn’t want to appear too gloating when colleagues came over to congratulate him, but in the end the elation won and in a fit of euphoria he invited everyone to the office local for a drink at the end of the day.
He awoke next morning with the mother of all hangovers, but it being Saturday it didn’t matter. Even the hammering in his head couldn’t stop him savouring the thought of his new future. With the salary rise he’d be able to trade in his old car for something more sporty, perhaps sell the flat and get somewhere better, book that holiday he’d decided only last week he couldn’t afford. Oh, yes the world was truly his oyster now. He grinned at himself in the shaving mirror and resolved to make a start on improving his lifestyle to-day.
He spent a happy hour in the travel agent and booked the trip to Chile he’d thought would remain a dream for a very long time to come. It was a gratifying to realise that he would be able to explore the mountains while he was still young and fit enough to enjoy it.
From there he went to the estate agent and put his flat on the market. Armed with a handful of details of flats and houses he would now be able to afford he went to the local car showroom. He’d been drooling over one of the models on their forecourt for months. He did a deal with the salesman and put himself into debt, but when his new salary kicked in he would be able to afford the repayments - just.
The next few weeks at work he spent familiarising himself with his new responsibilities, sitting in with old Anstruther, getting up to speed on what had been happening in the department, and getting to know Pamela better. He’d always fancied her quite a lot, and was looking forward to working with her - and maybe taking the relationship further. In his spare time he went flat hunting. He’d found two he really liked and was having difficulty making his mind up as to which one to choose.
On the last weekend before taking up his new post he viewed the two flats and decided to take the smaller. It was nearer work and had a balcony and access to the roof. These advantages outweighed the charms of the other flat even though it was £5000 dearer and he would be very pushed to meet the mortgage. He put in his offer and it was accepted. On Sunday he started making plans for the move, sorting out a few belongings. During the evening he sat listening to music and reflected on how his life was going to be so much better in the future. New job, new flat and, hopefully, new girlfriend.
“Dave,” he told himself, smugly, “you’re a lucky bugger.” He finished his drink and went to bed, still smiling.
On Monday he went early to the office and sat at his new desk, grinning like a schoolboy at Christmas.
“All this,” he thought as he looked round his new office, “Is mine. All mine”
Just then his intercom buzzed.
“Ah, David. Good, you’re in,” The MD sounded sombre. “Could you step into my office straight away, please?” and he switched the machine off, giving Dave no time to ask questions.
“Well,” he thought, straightening his tie and making his way to the MD’s office, “Here comes the welcoming pep talk.”
Half an hour later he was back at his desk, slumped with his head in his hands. He couldn’t believe what he’d just been told.
“It’s got to be some sick joke. It can’t be true.” He shook his head and realised he was trembling. He felt sick and was afraid he was going to burst into tears.
He’d just been told there had been a takeover of the company. All the sales and marketing would be taking place at the new head office, and his job no longer existed. All his dreams and ambitions shattered. No job, no car, no new flat. Nothing. Just a whole lot of debt and no way to pay it.
He put on his jacket and, as if in a trance, slowly walked out of his office, out of the building and into a very uncertain future.