The Grapevine

In these days of darkness, I'm stuck on the other side of the grapevine, waiting, always waiting, to see if more news will pop up in the media about Hughes and Hughes or Jonny Havron. So far, nothing new. Jonny is still missing, though the police have increased the search, and have handed out 3,000 flyers and 20 A3 posters. I can only help it helps piece the events together.

As for H&H, I was with the former staff of my branch today, talking about it. The boss told us how a few rumours are flying around, like that some of the shops might be swept up by other businesses. I don't know too many of the details, and I can't confirm that any of this is true, but he reckons that we'll know a lot more within the next week. And we should get our last pay slip.

I feel better today, though. I think blogging about my pain over everything has helped. I slept soundly last night, for the first time in a week, I might add, and I wasn't massively depressed meeting up with everyone. It was nice, actually. Sure, they all still need jobs, but they're joining the dole and for the most part taking advantage of their time.

As for my own job hunt... I haven't started it. I won't get my redundancy pay if I'm hired beforehand, so I don't see the point. Plus, I can use this time for college work and for editing. Most of the way through Meet Sam now, before I go into the rewrite. I haven't done this much work on the book since I first wrote it in November 2008. Sure, the word count isn't jumping up by several thousand a day, but I'm working out the finer details of the plot, and noticing the way I wrote the book all over again. I don't want to sound boastful, but I actually love this book! I love the way its written, the way the story is told, everything about it, except for the little bumps that need smoothing out. That's a good sign, I reckon. It means that I can finish this project, because it's something I really care about, something I can stand to work on for a long time.

Who knows, it might get me into the published author world... A man can dream, can't he?

Bye Bye Job

I'm unemployed, it seems. I had a job three hours ago, and now... well, I found out over the radio that the bookshop I work in, Hughes and Hughes, was closed, due to the fact that it had to go into receivership. We had an idea that the company wouldn't last long, what with less people travelling, and so less sales at the airport, but we never thought it would happen so soon. I literally said to someone at six o'clock last Saturday, "See you next week!"

Unless we all meet up tomorrow, that's not going to happen.

I feel oddly empty knowing I've no work tomorrow. It was different when I took a holiday before, to study for my mocks. I knew why I wasn't in work... I knew I wouldn't be in work... this just came on very sudden. And I had to pass the shop too, on my way to the cinema, which is where I was going when I found out about the dead company. It looked so dark, so lifeless... okay, so the lights were off and it was empty, but that's not what I meant. The soul of the shop was gone.

But even still, now as I type this, I can't claim it's all about me. I don't know most of the people who are now unemployed, but I knew the people in my shop. Two of them are the main income earners in their families. Two are in college. One just moved into a new apartment. One's living with his girlfriend, but he'll need a new job if he's to keep that up. And the last is my boss, whose wife doesn't work... well, not in a company. She's a writer. I think lots of us know how little money that will get them.

I'm going to be stuck thinking about how they're managing. I won't be able to help it. These people are my friends, and now we're all without a job, just suddenly, without direct warning from the company. Unless someone else buys out the place and keeps all the shops running...

My parents are advising me to look for somewhere else. My mum said it doesn't have to be a bookshop. But she doesn't get it. I loved working in a bookshop. It was my thing. If I had to get a new job, I'd love for it to be in another bookshop. Nothing else would feel right.

Nothing else could make me feel happy like Hughes and Hughes did.