“I see.” In that small statement, Ronan Fletcher made me feel as though it were my fault that St. Augustus’s had gone under. My fault that the funds couldn’t be raised to keep the school going; My fault that the other faculty members had lost their jobs, too. In my head, I was reeling, all kinds of excuses and explanations dancing on the tip of my tongue, begging to be unleashed. I didn’t utter a word, though. I just sat there, hollowed out and miserable, as Ronan seemed to consider his next move.
“So you would be available to start immediately?” he said finally.
“I would.” I was surprised he was even bothering to check this information, given how clear it was that he didn’t think me fit for the job.
“And do you get sea sick?
“I’m sorry?”
“Sea sick. There’s a considerable amount of boat travel involved in this job.”
I just stared at him blankly. “I would have to cross the river a lot?”
“Not the Hudson, no. I need someone to care for my children in my hometown, which just so happens to be on a remote island off the coast of Maine. There is a six-mile ferry journey between the mainland and The Causeway, and sometimes the waters can be pretty rough. The position is a six-month contract, as I’m sure the agency explained to you. You will have two days off a week, and the children’s aunt will also be on hand to assist in their care. Ideally, the successful candidate for this role will take care of the children during the day, making them breakfast, taking them to school after the new year, once they’re enrolled at the local elementary. Collecting them and helping them with any homework, playing with them in the evenings etc. Before they are able to go to the local school, both Connor and Amie would need to be home schooled.
“Rose, their aunt, will take care of them two days of the week, as well as some evenings, which she can work out with the successful candidate once they have arrived on The Causeway.” He said “The Causeway” like it was difficult for him to form the words in his mouth.
“An island?” He wanted me to leave the mainland? He wanted me to travel to some remote speck of land out in the ocean with him and his children? I couldn’t quite manage to make the information sink in. I’d been devastated by the idea of being a six hour flight away on the other side of the country, but Mom had talked me down. She’d reminded me how easy it would be to jump on a plane in New York and get back to L.A. whenever I wanted, and cheap enough too, if I was earning decent money, but an island? Off the coast of Maine? That was not a simple hop, skip and a jump away. That was far more complicated indeed.
Ronan seemed unsettled as he continued, which didn’t reassure me at all. “I was born on The Causeway,” he explained. “I haven’t been home in some time. If you were selected for the role, you would need to commit to traveling to the island and staying for a full six-month period.”
“I wouldn’t be able to fly back to L.A. on the weekends?”
Ronan shook his head. “Unfortunately that wouldn’t be practical. It would take more than a full day to travel in each direction, and I would like someone on hand in case of an emergency. You’re more than welcome to spend your free time as you want on the island, but I would prefer if you have your cell phone with you at all times, so Rose can reach you should she need to. I’m going to be writing a book, and so I won’t be available for much of the time. Once the six-month contract is at an end, I’m hoping I can arrange for another family member to take care of Connor and Amie in my absence.”
“I see. This…isn’t really what I was expecting. Are the children okay with such a huge change of scenery?”
Ronan’s expression grew cold, turning his perfect features to smooth, flawless marble. “Ever since their mother died this time last year, Connor and Amie are still…” He frowned, lips slightly parted as he seemed to search for the right word. “Adjusting to the loss. A change of scenery is exactly what they need.”
Shit. I’d overstepped. I shouldn’t have suggested he didn’t know what was best for his kids. And the second he’d mentioned his wife’s death, something had altered in him. Ronan was a storm now. A perfectly dangerous storm. I could see the clouds forming over his head, twisting and turning as a darkness seemed to overtake him. “Yes, of course. I’m sorry.” My words were weightless, inconsequential, but they were all I could manage. What I could possibly say to rewind the past few minutes and reset the interview. Nothing fitting came to mind.
“It’s of no consequence,” he said hurriedly. “If you’re offered the job, you will be given a file containing information you should know about Connor and Amie. Their personalities, their issues and their specific needs.”
“I still...I don’t think I can move to a remote island for six months, Mr. Fletcher. I’m sorry. I just can’t.”
“I told you, call me Ronan. And I’m aware a six-month contract such as this is a lot to ask, which is why the pay is so generous. I assume the agency told you what the salary was?”