THE GIRL IN THE CV

The Girl In The CV

It was already 5.30 pm as she wearily tossed the brown folder she had been carrying into the overflowing rubbish bin at the edge of the sidewalk before collapsing with a sigh of relief onto a park bench. Pulling off her trainers, she rubbed her aching feet with a sigh of relief, murmuring to herself ‘Well that’s the end of that then!’ How could anyone possibly imagine what incredible consequences would follow such an apparently trivial act?

It had been a long and tiring day for Louisa who had spent most of it dropping off her CV to every shop on the bustling High Street. She had just started University and needed a job to help support herself. Her Granny had told her that it would be easier for her to get an interview if prospective employers could see what a smart, presentable young lady she was and so she had produced a smart CV complete with an attractive colour picture of her smiling out of the front page. Her friends had teased her, saying that with the long blond hair framing her face she looked more like a fashion model rather than the Doctor she aspired to become!

Realising that she had just one copy of her CV left in the brown dog eared folder she had been carrying all day, she had wearily tossed it into the rubbish bin rather than carry it all the way back to the Student Village,

By midnight the icy wind and snow flurries made sure the High Street was deserted except for a pitiful solitary figure that was limping slowly and painfully along the edge of the sidewalk. He clung close to the shop windows for warmth, head bowed against the chilling north wind that made no distinction between his shabby coat, long unkempt hair and beard, or the empty fast food cartons that it spun and whirled in crazy eddies under the cold yellow of the street lights.

The lights cast deep shadows on the man’s bearded grimy face. From under shaggy eyebrows bright and alert nut brown eyes darted birdlike here and there, constantly searching for anything that might be of use to him. He limped towards an overflowing litter bin, talking to himself in low tones ‘Mmm, looks as if this one might be interesting Jeremy, or whatever your name is!’ Rubbing his hands to try and restore some circulation, he hummed to himself saying, ‘This one’s very, very full Jonathan, or whatever your name is!’ As he reached inside he said, ‘Mustn’t make a mess on the sidewalk though William, or whatever your name is must we?’

Suddenly he violently recoiled. Behind the litter bin was a tree and there, on a low branch less than two feet away from his face, were two huge brown eyes staring directly back at him!

‘What the devil…!’Staggering backwards in shock he gasped as he saw that the eyes belonged to a very large barn owl that was staring back at him with unblinking brown eyes from the branch opposite! ‘Good grief, I never knew barn owls were so huge, but there’s no guessing why you sit there old chap, plenty of mice and rats around litter bins like this one methinks.’ Suddenly the owl let out a loud indignant screech and flew over his head so low that he fell backwards onto the sidewalk!

Struggling back to his feet he said, ‘My gosh, Cedric or whatever your name is, that was lucky I can still remember Eric Hosking, the wildlife photographer chappie being attacked by an owl, took his eye out as I recall.’

With the owl gone, he once more turned his attention to the litter bin and exclaimed ‘Ooh, well now Henry or whatever your name is, what do we have here, hmmmm?’ His pert brown eyes focussed on a brown folder lying on top of the litter piled up in the bin. Opening the folder with grimy hands he saw that it was someone’s CV that had been carelessly tossed away.

‘Mmmm Godfrey, or whatever your name is, what’s this then?’ Taking the documents out of the folder, he twisted round turning his head so that he could read what was in the folder by the pale yellow of the street light. ‘Oooo, what an attractive girl Charlie, or whatever your name is!’ He squinted closely at the young face beaming back at him. Suddenly he recoiled, dropping the document as if he had received a powerful electric shock from it. ‘I. . . know. . . you!’ His voice cracked and quavered, ‘I know you….I can’t quite remember….but…’

Just then a gust of wind swirled up all the papers from the open file scattering them along the sidewalk. The man stood stock still as if in a trance, his eyes wide open staring unseeing at the shops on the opposite side of the street. His mouth moved as if he was trying to say something very difficult and complex, then suddenly he was galvanised into action. Looking wildly around him, he frantically searched the street to see where the wind had so carelessly tossed the sheet of precious paper he had just been reading; a precious piece of paper that now meant more to him than life itself! Suddenly his eyes widened, and he smiled broadly, ignoring the pain of protest from his cracked, chapped lips. There it was, in the next shop doorway, whirling and dancing round and round with some gaily coloured fast food containers! Clumsily, he lurched forward, madly stamping his right foot at the ground, spinning round and round as if locked in a macabre tarantella dance with the paper and the fast food containers. He tried to stamp on the paper and capture it, but it was always too quick for him. Tears of frustration began to run down his grimy cheeks. He made another desperate lunge for the paper as it came once more within reach of his hand and a fraction of a second later, gripping the precious piece of paper as tightly as a shipwrecked mariner might grip a lifeline, he slipped on the icy sidewalk, his head striking the hard stone edge of the window sill.

A group of revellers, heads bowed against the wind walked quickly by and seeing the inert figure in the doorway the woman in front shouted, ‘Oh just leave him, look at him, he’s dead drunk, probably stinks to high heaven, come on just leave him to sleep it off!’ With that the revellers went on their way, heads bent against the merciless flurries of snow that were now beginning to fall more heavily.

The man lay in the icy cold doorway, blood slowly oozing from a gash over his right eye that the revellers had failed to notice. Much later he began to stir and then he remembered! His limbs were so stiff and he was so cold that he thought his joints would never move again. His numb fist still clutched the precious piece of paper and groaning with effort, he rolled onto his back and propping himself against the doorway, he looked once more at the paper.

As he read the CV he learned more about her; that she lived on the University Campus, was studying Medicine, even what she liked to do for relaxation. With shaking hands he stroked the picture repeating the words, ‘ Beautiful girl, beautiful girl, beautiful hair, so blonde and fine, must find her, must get to speak to her on her own, must, must, must!’

Dragging himself upright once again, he shambled off into the yellow light. Snow was now beginning to stick to the shoulders of his tattered coat, and the long hair and unkempt beard that blew around his shoulders transforming him into what appeared to be a mad 21st Century prophet. He knew where the University was and he was sure he knew where the Student Village was, and so slowly and painfully, step by step, he made his way there shambling through the snow that was beginning to drift in the icy wind. The blood from the gash on his throbbing head was beginning to congeal, matting his eyebrow and forming dark rivulets as it ran down his cheek.

Louisa and her flat mate Jane were sipping their first coffees of the morning and chatting, ‘Got my CV out to 21 shops yesterday, when they see my photograph I’ll get offers from all of them,’ laughed Louisa. ‘Oh yea, and I’m Adele!’ Retorted her flatmate Jane, ‘Come on, we’ve got Physiology at 9.15, better make a move’ Gathering their bags they left the building but noticing the fresh fall of snow, they decided to walk through the park to the University. Some school boys chased them, pelting them with snowballs, and having run away to escape they stopped near a park bench to get their breath back. ‘Look at that poor old man over there on that bench, he’s got snow all over him, hope he’s not dead’ As they approached, the man lifted his head and watched them intently. He stared at faces that were wrapped up in scarves against the cold but when they were level with the bench, the man staggered to his feet and made three hesitant steps towards them on stiff legs. Slipping on the snow, he fell to the ground. ‘Leave him Lou, he’s a tramp and it looks like he’s still drunk!’ Jane took Louisa’s arm, firmly steering her past what she saw as a drunken derelict. ‘Oh, but look at him, we can’t just leave him, look at that horrid gash on his head, he must be freezing, he might die of exposure if we just walk away and leave him, anyway remember, we’re medical students aren’t we?’ ‘What about that Hippocratic Oathie thingy, and all that?’ With that Louisa pulled her arm away from Jane and turned back to the tramp who was now struggling to get back to the bench he had been sitting on.

By the time the girls got to the bench, the tramp had managed to raise his torso and get his elbows onto the bench. Looking up at the girls as they approached he said, ‘Let me see you, let me see you, stand where I can see you,’ he muttered with ragged breaths through bloody chapped lips. ‘It is you isn’t it Louisa ?’ Staring incredulously at the tramp, Louisa asked, ‘How can you possibly know my name, who are you?’

‘Don’t you know me Louisa?’ Louisa stared at the tramp’s face and despite the grime, the long hair, the beard and the awful gash on his head, something about him was somehow familiar, and frowning she asked, ‘Who are you?’ The voice dropped to a whisper as the tramp struggled to reply, ‘I’m…. your father…… I remember everything now! That car crash…..your mother died in my arms….I had a mental breakdown….I couldn’t take it, I lost my memory, I didn’t know who I was any more…. I live on the streets…..and then last night when I was rummaging in a rubbish bin for food….. I found this!’ Pulling the torn and tattered CV from his pocket he pointed to the picture. ‘I looked at this and suddenly I knew who I was and who you are, and it all came flooding back to me!’

Louisa stared in shock, but quickly recovering her composure she blurted out, ‘Quick Jane, call an Ambulance. We need to get him to Hospital, he’s suffering from exposure as well as that nasty gash on his head.’ As Jane called the emergency services Louisa gently held her father in her arms and with a faltering voice, through tears of happiness, she stroked his head and said, ‘Ok Dad, everything will be alright, we’ll soon get you into hospital and I promise you we will never ever be alone again.’