Her voice is rising and becoming breathless. This is where my sister, Tonya, would lose patience and snap, “Don’t be so stupid, Mum, of course your phone won’t turn itself on!”
“Mum.” I take it gently from her. “How about we leave it in the car?”
“Yes.” She relaxes a little. “Yes, that’s a good idea. I’ll put it in the glove compartment.”
I glance at Dad, who gives me a tiny smile. Poor Mum. All this ridiculous stuff going on in her head. She really needs to get things in proportion.
As we approach the funeral center, I hear Uncle Bill’s distinctive drawl carrying on the air, and sure enough, as we make our way through the little crowd, there he is, with his leather jacket and permatan and springy hair. Everyone knows Uncle Bill is obsessed about his hair. It’s thick and luxuriant and jet black, and if any newspaper ever suggests that he dyes it, he threatens to sue them.
“Family’s the most important thing,” he’s saying to an interviewer in jeans. “Family is the rock we all stand on. If I have to interrupt my schedule for a funeral, then so be it.” I can see the admiration pass through the crowd. One girl, who’s holding a Lingtons takeaway cup, is clearly beside herself and keeps whispering to her friend, “It’s really him!”
“If we could leave it there for now…” One of Uncle Bill’s assistants approaches the cameraman. “Bill has to go into the funeral home. Thanks, guys. Just a few autographs…” he adds to the crowd.
We wait patiently at the side until everyone has got Uncle Bill to scribble on their coffee cups and funeral programs with a Sharpie, while the camera films them. Then, at last, they melt away and Uncle Bill heads over our way.
“Hi, Michael. Good to see you.” He shakes Dad’s hand, then immediately turns back to an assistant. “Have you got Steve on the line yet?”
“Here.” The assistant hastily hands Uncle Bill a phone.
“Hello, Bill!” Dad is always unfailingly polite to Uncle Bill. “It’s been a while. How are you doing? Congratulations on your book.”
“Thank you for the signed copy!” puts in Mum brightly.
Bill nods briefly at all of us, then says straight into the phone, “Steve, I got your email.” Mum and Dad exchange glances. Obviously that’s the end of our big family catch-up.
“Let’s find out where we’re supposed to be going,” murmurs Mum to Dad. “Lara, are you coming?”
“Actually, I’ll stay out here for a moment,” I say on impulse. “See you inside!”
I wait until my parents have disappeared, then edge closer to Uncle Bill. I’ve suddenly hatched a demon plan. At his seminar, Uncle Bill said the key to success for any entrepreneur was grabbing every opportunity. Well, I’m an entrepreneur, aren’t I? And this is an opportunity, isn’t it?
When he seems to have finished his conversation, I say hesitantly, “Hi, Uncle Bill. Could I talk to you for a moment?”
“Wait.” He lifts a hand and puts his BlackBerry to his ear. “Hi, Paulo. What’s up?”
His eyes swivel to me and he beckons, which I guess is my cue to speak.
“Did you know I’m a headhunter now?” I give a nervous smile. “I’ve gone into partnership with a friend. We’re called L &N Executive Recruitment. Could I tell you about our business?”
Uncle Bill frowns at me thoughtfully for a moment, then says, “Hold on, Paulo.”
Oh wow! He’s put his phone call on hold! For me!
“We specialize in finding highly qualified, motivated individuals for senior executive positions,” I say, trying not to gabble. “I wondered if maybe I could talk with someone in your HR department, explain our services, maybe put a pitch together-”
“Lara.” Uncle Bill lifts a hand to stop me. “What would you say if I put you in touch with my head of recruitment and told her: ‘This is my niece, give her a chance?’”
I feel an explosion of delight. I want to sing “Hallelujah.” My gamble paid off!
“I’d say thank you very much, Uncle Bill!” I manage, trying to stay calm. “I’d do the best job I could, I’d work 24/7, I’d be so grateful-”
“No,” he interrupts. “You wouldn’t. You wouldn’t respect yourself.”
“Wh-what?” I stop in confusion.
“I’m saying no.” He shoots me a dazzling white smile. “I’m doing you a favor, Lara. If you make it on your own, you’ll feel so much better. You’ll feel you’ve earned it.”
“Right.” I swallow, my face burning with humiliation. “I mean, I do want to earn it. I do want to work hard. I just thought maybe…”
“If I can come from two little coins, Lara, so can you.” He holds my gaze for a moment. “Believe in yourself. Believe in your dream. Here.”
Oh no. Please no. He’s reached in his pocket and is now holding out two ten-pence pieces to me.
“These are your two little coins.” He gives me a deep, earnest look, the same way he does on the TV ad. “Lara, close your eyes. Feel it. Believe it. Say, ‘This is my beginning.’”
“This is my beginning,” I mumble, cringing all over. “Thanks.”
Uncle Bill nods, then turns back to the phone. “Paulo. Sorry about that.”
Hot with embarrassment, I edge away. So much for grabbing opportunities. So much for contacts. I just want to get through this stupid funeral and go home.