Rona had to wait until well into the next week for any news of the job. There was still stocktaking to be done, and Loretta was approaching her exams and so couldn't spare the time to come in to the bookshop, so Rona went in on Monday and Tuesday to continue the work, her back having barely recovered over the weekend from the work the week before. Then she had to wait until Thursday night, after dinner, before she knew anything, nursing her pay cheque the whole time (because she'd at least been paid for the work she'd done so far, and had celebrated by buying some honey to have on her toast in the morning).

In all that time she didn't give anyone else in the house an opportunity to answer the 'phone: whenever it rang she was there, plucking it out of its cradle on the second ring, mid-ring, and inevitably handing it over to Miranda or to her other housemate, because the call was for one or the other of them. She'd almost decided: stuff it, when the call came on Thursday night, and if she still rushed to the 'phone to pick it up on that occasion it was mainly because she didn't want her housemates to think she was starting to despair.

On this occasion, though, the rush was worth it. "Hello, Rona?" said a familiar, slightly patrician voice. "It's Guy Wilhelm" the voice continued, emphasising the second syllable in Wilhelm, "from the Sagging Shelf." The Sagging Shelf was the name of the bookshop; Rona has remarked when she did her second shift there that it'd be a good name for a pub. "Would that it was, Ms. McKendrie, would that it was" Guy had replied.

Now, though, he was in a less wistful frame of mind. "Rona," he said, "you are no doubt aware that my employee, your colleague these past two weeks -" a slight exaggeration on his part, Rona noted - "the young lady Loretta, is at this time of year somewhat less than reliable in her availability for work. Or rather, she is reliable in her general unavailability for work."

"Uh-huh."

"Furthermore it would appear that you are blessed, or perhaps burdened, with an abundance of leisure time."

That was one way of putting it, Rona supposed.

"Additionally" Guy continued, "while your knowledge of literature is sadly lacking, no such fault can be found in your enthusiasm, or, if these past few days are any indication, in our reliability and efficiency. Though it is vulgar of me to praise somebody for their efficiency, yet it is sadly an unavoidable necessity for the continuing function of my modest shop."

Rona thought, at first blush, that this was all sounding promising, but the more she thought about it the less certain she became. She also wondered if Guy might get to the point any time soon: she was getting sick of constantly having the 'phone pressed to her ear. She felt like she needed about a week of peace and quiet.

"Rona, all these facts, and more which I shan't discuss on this occasion because, sadly, there is much to be done - which circumstance is one not insubstantial element in the decision - all these facts mean that I have decided to extend to you today the hand of employment."

"Umm . . ."

"I am offering you a job, Ms. McKendrie" Guy explained. "Should you choose to accept it."

"Oh - yes!" Rona replied, her mind suddenly catching up with Guy's intentions. "Yes, I do choose to!"