Roberta Kind was unlike any person he had met before. Bright blonde, very curly hair, intense, blue eyes set in a wide, pleasant face. Her wide smile uncovered a few crooked teeth, which weirdly made her more charming than taking away from her.
Roberta Kind was not beautiful by any standards, but there was something about her nasal, loud laugh, about the laundry softener smell she always spread around her, about the way she looked at you straight in the eyes when you were talking to her, unwavering and focused.
Roberta had been working in the furniture store for ten years when he joined, and for the world of him he could not understand why she was not a manager, she knew everything there was to know and then some.
One rainy day, when the shop was deserted, and it was just the two of them wiping invisible dust and polishing mirror like furniture he asked her.
‘Roberta …’
‘Hmm?’
‘Can I ask you something?’
Roberta looked up and a crooked smile appeared in the corner of her mouth.
‘I am pretty sure you can, the question is, should you?’
‘Oh come on …’
She seemed extremely amused now.
‘Go ahead, I promise I will not say a word to HR … or will I?’
Her blonde hair bobbed around while she gave out a short, funny laugh.
‘I was just curious, why are you not a manager, you’ve been here forever, you know what there is to know … I don’t get it …’
‘Oh, you’re so kind!’, Roberta was all of a sudden serious, and her amusement seemed to disappear completely.
‘Come, let’s sit down at the table there.’
‘What? We are not allowed!’
‘No worries, nothing will happen! Come I will tell you a story.’
He followed her and sat at the big table on chairs that seemed made for giants, but were weirdly light to move around.
Once they were sat, the rain falling rhythmically on the large windows, Roberta looked at him intensely.
‘How old do you think I am?’
When his answer delayed she went on speaking.
‘Leave it. I might not look it, but I am oldish and thirty three years ago my life changed. I got an inheritance, like a really big one, more money than I could spend in ten lives. A crazy aunt from America that, funny enough, I had never met. What do you do when you are young and stupid and have a ton of money you did not work for? Anything that crosses your mind, that is what you do!’
His face was now like a stone mask, shocked.
‘Yeah …’, Roberta leaned back in the large chair, and looking up at the ceiling she seemed to be watching a film only she could see.
‘I did everything, bought everything, went to all sorts of places, surrounded myself with a ton of people that I did not know, had no clue who they were, but when you have money there will always be people around to help you spend it, or encourage you to spend it more likely.’
‘Hmm… I must have done that for I don’t know, fifteen years maybe? I lost track at some point, days blended into nights, possessions lost their value, food no longer tasted like anything … I was heading into an early grave. I had my wake up call when one night, I don’t know how, I left a club and got lost in a big city in the States somewhere. I ended up sleeping on the street, sooooo frightened, I cannot put it into words. Even now the fear I felt then gives me the chills.’
‘I found my way back to my hotel, booked the next flight out and came back home. I hid for a bit while I recovered and then I felt the need for something real, something sound. Something of my own.’
Roberta smiled at his shocked expression.
‘Yeah mad isn’t it? I think having a job, having to follow a routine, to show up, actually saved my life, I am not the kind to live freely, I would lose myself. Not sure it makes sense …’
It did not! He was sure she is just messing with him, there could not be one person, not one, on God’s green earth that would choose to work in that insignificant furniture shop, in that forsaken town, the bog of Ireland. He got up shaking his head.
‘Messer!’, and he left Roberta sitting at the large table looking out the huge windows.
‘That I am!’, she whispered to herself. ‘But I am not a liar.’, and she chuckled feeling a bit lighter for the confession she had just made.
It takes all sorts.