My mother is sick!
That was the only thought running through my mind as I made my way through the streets of London, trying to find a job to pay for my mother's medication.
I had been going up and down through the town for the past week but found no job. I was desperate!
My mother was diagnosed with Diabetes and each insulin injection to be delivered was quite expensive. I had to withdraw my younger brother's education plan funds to buy a few doses. But obviously, a few doses couldn't hold her for long.
The only positive side was that it wasn't severe. She would get a few attacks every now and then. So that gave me some time to gather enough money for when the current doses got depleted.
"Good afternoon, ma'am," I greeted the woman standing at the counter in one of the restaurants I walked into.
She smiled at me. "Good afternoon, how may I be of service?"
"Um... I am wondering if you have any vacant positions here. I really need a job and I will do about anything you've got."
I wonder if that was the correct way to go— looking all desperate— but I guess I didn't have a choice. Maybe if I looked desperate enough, then they would take pity and give me the job.
"I don't think so, but I'll take you to the manager so you could ask," she said thoughtfully and walked out from behind the counter.
She took me to a door that had 'Only Staff Allowed' written on it. She swiped a card at the machine mounted on the wall beside the door and then opened it.
Inside was a bustle of activities as the chefs moved from one point to another, trying to gather ingredients and utensils. Waiters and waitresses carried orders through the door we just walked through.
I ducked as one of the chefs swung around with a meat cleaver in hand. I honestly wonder how those people did not end up in hospitals at the end of the day.
The lady from the counter, whose name I did not get, walked further into the chaos until she reached a door that led into a corridor of doors. She got me in front of a door that read 'Manager' and knocked.
"Come in," said someone behind the door.
She opened the door to reveal a man seated behind a very untidy desk. His fingers gently massaged the sides of his head.
"What do you want?" he asked without looking up. The lady told him my business and only when she was done did he look up.
"I'm sorry, young lady, but currently we have more than enough staff. But you can leave your contact details with her for when the need arises," he said with a scowl on his face.
I nodded my head.
"Well then, if you may excuse me, I'll get back to my work."
That was not very lucky. Guess I would have to keep looking.
After giving the sweet lady my contact details and made my way out. That's almost what happened in every restaurant and small hotel I walked into.
I looked at the street clock in the middle of the road. Three. I had a few more hours before I had to go back home. With nothing. Again.
I walked through a park and a large building came into view. It had gargoyles designing its walls near the rooftops. It's walls with slightly chipping paint near the ground gave it an ancient vibe.
The little I could see of the garden through the iron bar gates was perfectly manicured. The trees looked like someone took a pair of scissors and shaped the tops with delicate yet precise detail.
Rosewood Palace.
I have always wanted to come by here and just tour the place. Or the little bit that was allowed to be toured. The museum.
As I looked at the glorious building that was way older than me, a thought struck me.
What if, the palace is in need of a maid? Or a gardener? Though that was unlikely. I had to check it out.
I glanced at the palace guards standing at the entrance. I highly doubted those guys ever smiled. They just always scared me.
But this wasn't the time to be scared. I had to go and find out if the royal family needed a helping hand. And I would bet they would pay me handsomely.