Vicky Ewan: It’s my good fortune to secure a dream job

I have been employed – and very happily so – as parish secretary for nearly fourteen years. 

Until recently, I held an additional position: cook-housekeeper for a resident priest whose neurodiverse needs made providing for himself too problematic. I was engaged in this dual-role capacity for over five years, and learned how to manage each of the roles so that they complemented each other (almost) seamlessly; it helped, naturally, that they co-existed in the same premises (thank goodness for oven timers and good hearing). 

It also helped that a certain amount of flexibility and tolerance was wielded by those for whom I worked, when necessary, for which I am grateful. I quickly grew accustomed to my unusual but enjoyable working pattern, and quite comfortable with the lifestyle it afforded me: I worked solely during my younger son’s school hours (apart from during the holidays; I imagine exclusive term-time employment might have been a bit too much to expect), and never had to sacrifice my weekends. 

The proximity of the church to my son’s school and our house was also a huge boon, and although I cheekily nudged my husband into giving us the occasional lift – especially on wet weather days – there was no burning need to have access to a vehicle. Smugly ensconced in this cosy cocoon, I grew foolishly complacent; thus, although the prospect had been brewing for some time beforehand, it was nonetheless with a shock that I learned early this year that my domestic role was to become redundant when the resident priest moved away a couple of weeks hence, leaving me with several – very awkwardly placed – hours to fill. 

Suddenly, I found myself set adrift in an unfamiliar sea, and it was not a pleasant sensation. My generous employers were considerate in their handling of the situation, granting me several weeks’ grace period in which to adjust to the new reality and secure myself an alternative job. Still, the days began tumbling past at an alarming rate, and the job-hunting terrain was dauntingly unfamiliar, pocked with pitfalls and precipices that tripped me up at every turn. I scoured the listings on employment websites several times daily to identify a position that could fit in with my office hours. Unsurprisingly, few were forthcoming, but I made a few applications and was called for my first interview in over a decade – a strangely enjoyable experience that left me quite hopeful (though I recognised, regrettably, that the vacancy itself was not ideal, for logistical reasons). 

‘Twas no matter, anyway – my application was ultimately unsuccessful. My husband, sensing my increasing desperation as time stumbled onwards, mooted approaching local businesses to seek any employment that might be in the offing. Acknowledging the pragmatism of this suggestion, I created some contact cards and handed them in at various establishments, posting them through the letterbox should the premises be closed. I wasn’t sure what to expect, but I was shocked and thrilled in equal measure when one of the outlets made contact a few days later, inviting me in for an interview with the view to offering me a few hours’ employment. All went well, and this time, my application was successful: I had secured one day’s work a week. 

My current employers, kind as ever, agreed to shift things around a little to accommodate this new position, and I began to look forward to the start date, which was speedily approaching, and the challenges a new job would bring.

A few days before beginning at the latest establishment, I received a phone call from another interested party who, having been absent from her business premises for some months due to a change in health, had only recently received my calling card. The lady in question has known me, and my family since we moved to the area when I was a young child, and I was deeply touched when she expressed a willingness to take a chance on entrusting her precious business to my keen – but inexperienced – care. I paid her a visit a short while later, and we discussed her proposal in depth, coming to an agreeable understanding about how things could move forward. With joy in my heart, I took possession of a set of keys to the business, then skipped home with a huge grin plastered across my face, barely able to fathom the good fortune that had befallen me.