Free Re-Awakening by Ashe Barker Page A

fortunate the landlady at the Fleece in Bainbridge had re-stocked on Saturday, though she was probably wondering who had emptied her vending machine in the Ladies and where all the action had been.
    No action here, now, that was for certain. Apart from an elderly couple celebrating their wedding anniversary, she’d had no more guests since Zack. She suspected her more recent visitors would not deplete her stock of remaining condoms though she’d decided to leave them in the bedside drawer in what she now thought of as Zack’s room. Her finances were stretched to breaking. She needed a job. Desperately.
    So the one bright spot on her horizon had been the phone call yesterday from the employment agency she’d registered with asking her to attend for an interview later this afternoon in Hawes. It sounded like a decent job, too, interesting even. Personal assistant and admin officer to support the new director of a rural business support network that was just starting up. The agency felt that her admin qualifications were right for this, but her background as a rural business owner herself was the icing on the cake. She’d be front of house, reception duties, answering the phone, greeting visitors, setting up networking events, running the office. At first. They were offering training in leisure and tourism, this could be the start of a new career for her. And it was only thirty hours a week—she’d still have time to run her guest house as well. It sounded ideal, and Imogen was cautiously optimistic although she kept telling herself not to get too excited. She’d yet to land the job, and she’d had no interview practice in God knows how long. But she needed this—she really, really needed this. Her bank balance needed this. And so did her self-esteem.
    At five to four she presented herself at the newly opened Rural Business Development Centre in Hawes. A cheerful woman of around fifty with greying wavy hair greeted her and invited her to come straight through. Imogen followed her through the door, and stopped dead.
    Zack. Zack was there. Her Zack. Sitting at the interview table, a middle-aged and somewhat weather-beaten man on one side of him, and an empty chair on the other, obviously just vacated by she of the greying wavy hair. The candidate’s chair was positioned opposite Zack, a glass of sparkling water helpfully to hand. Imogen reflected that she was definitely going to need that.
    “Imogen, I’m glad you could make it today. It’s lovely to see you again. Let me introduce everyone.” Zack stood, leaned across the table and shook her hand.
    Shook her hand! Imogen was dumbstruck. What was he doing here, looking as though he owned the place? He was a farmer, for God’s sake…?
    Ignoring her obvious confusion, Zack proceeded with his introductions. “You’ve just met Claire. Claire Montgomery works for our accountants and she’s been temporarily seconded to us to head up finance and HR. She’ll be overseeing us today, to ensure the interviews are conducted correctly.”
    Ms Grey and Wavy nodded politely and offered her hand. Imogen took it, managed to murmur something about being pleased to meet her.
    Zack continued, “And Jack Barraclough is chair of the management board. He runs a farm near Askrigg. You’ll remember I mentioned. He interviewed me when I was up here last month.”
    Farmer Jack leaned over and offered his hand. Imogen politely took it, her head whirling.
    She vaguely recalled that Zack had told her the interviewer had been taken ill, which was why he found himself stuck in the Dales over the weekend. And that he had to get up and be off early because his interview was scheduled for some ungodly ‘farming’ hour. She’d assumed he was an agricultural worker. Clearly he was not. Somehow the subject had never come up between them.
    Well, it wouldn’t would it ? The thought flittered uselessly through her head. We were too busy with makeshift nipple clamps and finding unhygienic things