Whatever Works By Soft Ragoo.pdf

Whatever Works By Soft Ragoo

http://www.fanfiction.net/s/6744234/1/

Prologue

I sat drumming my fingers on the empty table in front of me. It seemed much

longer than necessary. There were chairs lined up along the opposite side and

only one on my side – the one I was instructed to sit in. The room was cold. They

had the air conditioning blasting, unnecessarily. It added to the cold, sterile

feeling of the room. Glancing up, I stared at the cold, white fluorescents set in a

cold, white panelled ceiling. Cold, white, sterile room – designed for what? I

couldn't imagine this room was meant for anything aside from making its visitors

feel cold and intimidated.

I stopped the drumming and rubbed furiously at my arms. Damn, it was cold!

And what's the delay? I was very prompt for my appointment. I was always

prompt. This was one of the reasons I despised job interviews. But it was

something I had grown used to over the past year. More and more people were

going for private therapy these days, and every time I got situated in a clinic,

they closed up. With the last redundancy, I decided to throw my hat in the

private sector, and this is where they sent me. Wonderful.

"Ms Swan?" A voice echoed through the hollow room, making me jump.

I turned towards the voice. "Yes?"

"It will only be another few minutes. Can I get you anything? Cappuccino?

Perrier?"

"Thank you, no." I took a deep breath and opened my credentials file for the

umpteenth time, then closed it again. They already had everything that was in

here. I already had a phone interview and we had gone over my referrals and

qualifications extensively. Now they wanted to meet me. They didn't seem in too

much of a hurry to meet me... I glanced at the standard white clock on the wall.

It looked cold too. And it indicated that I had been sitting in this chair for 74

minutes already. I exhaled and rubbed my temples. Was it worth it?

A sudden flurry of activity outside the door alerted me that an end to my wait

was imminent. I cleared my throat and straightened my jacket, folded my hands

on the table. Then my lap. Then the table again.

The door flew open and a dozen or more people rushed in and the door was

promptly slammed behind them. I could hear the shutters of cameras flashing.

What the hell? My heart raced and my palms were sticky with sweat despite

being ice cubes. Who were these people?

"Ms Swan? I'm William Varner." He slapped a briefcase in front of us and

extended a hand. "Directing your attention to the far end – Mrs Cope, steno. Dr

Banner, the patient's physician. Mr Crowley, representing Dr Banner, and his

lovely assistant, Kate."

I noticed the slightest cringe from the lovely Kate but no other acknowledgement

or sign that the others had been introduced. Perhaps the slight of introducing her

by first name only was bad enough without the chosen adjective.

Mr Varner continued on. "My assistant, Mr Yorkie, and his assistant, Angela." He

adjusted his glasses and glanced at the paper on the top of his folder.

Angela smiled at me. She was lovely; why didn't she get a 'lovely' intro? No

respect shown with a title and surname and no adjective. Ass. I smiled at Angela

in return.

"And to my right, Mr Stanley from the AMA. Ms Goff, Rehabilitation Providers

Association. Mr Newton..." Ah. Ms Goff, like Mrs Cope, wasn't lovely, nor

disrespected in the ass' intro… what was his name? Oh right, Varner.

"Mike. Hi." Finally, another voice!

"And of course, Edward. Now..."

The two men beside Edward were left unannounced. Strange. The whole line-up

was strange. "Sorry... Excuse me, I think I'm in the wrong place? I was here to

meet with a prospective patient?"

Mr Varner nodded tersely. "Right place. You won't meet my client until you're

approved here. Now, all parties are present, formal introductions made, let's get

the paperwork out of the way so we can all continue on with our day, shall we?"

All parties present began shuffling papers and clicking pens with the exception of

me and the four men to the far right of Mr Varner. I realized I had no idea who

they represented. The man introduced as Mike smiled and winked at me. Edward,

the man beside him stared blankly at the table. One of the unnamed men beside

him watched me. I don't think he blinked. At all. It was unnerving so I looked on.

The other man at the table was turned facing the door. My attention averted

there, I noticed a third anonymous man: a big one, guarding the door.

I blinked my eyes rapidly to clear my thoughts. This has to be a joke. Someone

from the last clinic job? One of Charlie's old friends pulling a prank?

"Angie, be a doll and pass the forms along the table." Mr Varner didn't look up as

he commanded her.

She stood abruptly, grabbing the stack in front of her seat. "Angela!" she

muttered under her breath. I offered her an understanding smile.

She walked straight to the end and placed what appeared to be a contract in front

of the stenographer. "Please sign here...here...initial here...sign and date here.

Thank you."

The scene was repeated for the doctor, his representative, and his assistant. Her

heels clicked on the cold ceramic as she strode past her employers to the medical

watchdog reps. The four men at the end were not required to sign.

"Angie, Ms Swan's is a touch more complex; you'll have to advise her as well."

"I know! I typed the damned thing up!" she whispered under her breath as she

bent over me. "I've marked on each page where you'll sign. I'm sure you'll catch

on." Her tone was smooth sarcasm and her smile, sympathetic.

"What is it exactly that I'm signing?" I inquired as Angela handed me a pen and

pointed to the first 'X'.

"A simple confidentiality agreement." Mr Varner mumbled as he flipped through

more papers.

I stared at the booklet before me. Simple confidentiality agreement? This thing

was at least a dozen pages! "I don't discuss my patients!" I insisted.

The shuffling by all halted and pens were slapped down on the table. I, clearly,

was a nuisance. I glanced at Angela, and she raised an eyebrow at me before

giving me a slight nod. "It's okay. It's standard."

I read through the legal jargon on the first page. My temples began to twinge as I

attempted to process the bullshit hidden in widely unused words. I gave up and

signed. Then flipped and signed. Flip. Sign. Flip...

I passed Angela her pen.

"Hold onto it, hon. There's more." She stayed standing by my shoulder.

"Now, your referrals all gave their highest regards, and your clinical qualifications

are suffice. You have not done home care." His eyes drifted up to me and bore

holes into me. "Why do you think you can care for my client?"

At that moment, I didn't. It wasn't the work involved; it was the bullshit that

apparently came with it. I was looking for security – not upheaval. I smothered

my doubts and focused on my diction. "I cared for my father, at home, for five

years while I completed school and training. Spinal cord injury. He's not on my

resume because he wasn't a job."

"And he's not an issue now?"

I lowered my eyes. "He's deceased."

Ms Goff took that opportunity to speak out. "Ms Swan has been cleared of any

wrong-doing in regard to that case."

I stared back at the silent stares up and down the table and lifted my chin.

"Thank you, Ms Goff, for establishing the fact that I didn't kill my own father."

The corner of Edward's mouth twitched, and Mike leaned in to whisper to him.

Otherwise, I received more blank stares. I was ready to tear up the papers laid

out in front of me, now three separate piles. I wanted to take the lovely Angela's

pen and… yes, lovely Angela, because she was lovely! Just because she wasn't a

cute, perky blond like Kate didn't mean she wasn't just as attractive. More

importantly, she was the only person in the room who displayed any sort of

personality. Well, the Mike guy seemed personable... Anyway, Mr Varner wouldn't

appreciate what I wanted to do with the pen.

As my head pounded and my blood pressure came to a rolling boil, Mr Varner

spoke again. "Right then. You have no other issues in your personal life that

would inhibit your full dedication to my client?"

My personal life? What the... I felt Angela's hand on my shoulder, giving it a

gentle squeeze. She was cold, too. "None. There's no one." I stated. "I have no

one."

"That's fantastic. Angie, doll, finish up with the rest of the forms and we can be

on our way. We'll be in touch, Ms Swan."

I signed away what felt like my life and passed Angela her pen. She smiled

warmly at me and whispered, "Well done" when she bent to gather the forms.

The others prepared to leave, and it was then that I noticed the man named

Edward's gaze. It was intense. His eyes flashed away as soon as I caught his eye,

and he looked down, morbidly sullen once more. What role did he play in this? I

was still frozen to my seat when the flurry of activity started up again. The man

at the door gave a nod, and he opened it, allowing the team of my adjudicators

to exit swiftly. He, Mike, and the two nameless men from the table formed a

protective circle around Edward, and they disappeared into the flashes and

frenzy.

What the hell had just happened? I rubbed at my temples and took some deep

breaths. All of this for an in-home care position? No one had ever told me a thing

about this kind of hassle. I rubbed a little harder. This couldn't be worth it.

And yet, it was, I convinced myself as I sat with a hot cup of tea in my barren

apartment. I was chilled to the bone from the icy room and the sterile

atmosphere of my 'interview'. My home didn't offer much more warmth. Its walls

were lined with cardboard boxes that I'd yet to unpack since my last move. What

was the point? This was my third apartment in a year – since moving out of the

house my father had died in. Nowhere felt like home.

I wanted this job more than I needed it, truthfully. The sale of the house,

Charlie's insurance and his pension provided more than enough to keep me on

my feet, but I was tired of moving around aimlessly. When the agency advised

me of this position, I'd thought it was the perfect opportunity for me to really

start over. The work itself would keep me occupied, and truthfully, I'd enjoy the

company. The patient, a middle-aged woman, from what I initially understood,

was also alone. It would be how it was when it was just me and my dad.

Dad...

I set my mug down and headed wearily for bed. I hadn't shed a tear for Charlie

or myself in almost a year. I wasn't about to start that again now.

~ 0 ~

It was two long days before anyone was in touch with me. When Angela called, I

was relieved to hear her voice on the other end. She asked if I could make

another meeting at 2:15 and told me a car would pick me up at my residence at

1:30.

"And don't worry, hon, this won't be like the last one. I'll see you there!"

Dressed in casual business attire, I stepped out of the chauffeured car and gaped

at the sprawling house in front of me. Jesus... Whoever this woman was, she had

money. And as we entered, I realized this wouldn't be the same intimate in-home

care I was used to with Charlie. This house was fully staffed, and I would merely

be another employee.

Angela greeted me first when the maid took me through. With a warm smile, she

pulled me to the side. "Some place, huh? Don't worry though. It's not nearly as

stuffy as it appears. Mrs Cullen's quarters are at the back, by the garden, and it's

very... unlike this." We both gazed up at the 20' ceiling that reflected light off the

polished marble floor. "And she's such a sweetheart. You'll love her."

Entering Mrs Cullen's private quarters was like walking into an entirely different

house. This was a home. The doors opened onto a quaint sitting room, one wall

entirely glass overlooking the elaborate garden. Another had a fireplace with

inviting-looking chairs in front of it. There were modest flower arrangements and

loads of what appeared to be hand-stitched cushions and quilts. It was not cold

and sterile here.

Neither was the woman who was wheeled out briefly after my arrival. She was a

petite woman with beautiful caramel-coloured hair. It framed her flawless face

perfectly. Her eyes were a soft, warm brown, and her smile was even warmer.

"Isabella? May I call you Isabella? I don't like formality. I'm Esme."

"Bella, please." I rushed over to accept the extended hand she held out to me.

Warm.

"Please have a seat... or would you prefer to go outside?"

I returned her warm smile. "Whichever you'd like best, Esme. Both are lovely."

"In that case, would you mind if we walked the garden?"

"Absolutely!" I took her wheelchair and guided it through the double doors held

open for us.

"We'll see you in a little while! I'm in Bella's capable hands." Esme firmly

dismissed everyone else in the most polite manner. "I'll take over, dear. Walk

beside me so we can have a good chat. Now, tell me all about Bella!"

The grounds were obviously amended to accommodate her chair, the smooth,

paved path was wide enough for us both as we wove our way through the

garden. I found it soothing, and this frail woman had a remarkable way of putting

me further at ease.

Within an hour of leaving her side, I missed her already and desperately wanted

the job.

Whatever Works

Who Are These People?

My ringing cell phone woke me Sunday morning. It had been silent since Angela's

call mid-week. Leaving my meeting with Esme, I had felt certain the job was

mine. Then, I heard nothing. I had planned to return to the agency Monday to

arrange for them to send me on more interviews, but my phone was ringing. Why

would they call me for a job on Sunday? But who else would be calling?

Frantically, I reached for my phone before it stopped ringing. The now familiar

voice of Angela put a smile on my face so wide I could advertise dental hygiene. I

had what she promised to be my final meeting at noon. Not 'interview' – meeting.

Same arrangements, the car would pick me up at 11:15. Sounded to me like I

was going back to Esme's! I did a happy dance through my barren apartment and

got down to business. I was ready and waiting at 11:10.

I was correct in my assumption, but when I was granted entry, I was ushered to

a different section of the house. It wasn't the grandeur of the front hall, but it

wasn't as warm and inviting as Esme's quarters either. I was instructed to wait in

a sitting room outside another closed room. 'Someone' would be with me shortly.

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