How my Dad got his job in trade

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It was 3. 30am. I heard a noise and saw that the light was on, so I got out of bed and crept downstairs silently. The office door was ajar, and I could see my Dad still sat at the computer. He was so engrossed in his work, he did not see or hear me approach. I went to peer over his shoulder and the floorboard creaked as I got nearer to him. He was startled and was surprised to see me but he retaliated quickly and turned off the computer monitor. He had a sealed letter in his hand, which he asked if I would post for him in the morning on my way to school.

I went back to bed and my bedside clock said 4. 00am. Three hours later, it was time to get up for school as it was 7. 00 am. I felt very tired because of my disturbed night. On my way to school, I nipped on down the post box to post the letter. I don’t know what the letter contained – should I have a quick sneak I said to myself or would that be cruel. I slowly opened the letter. It said that my ambitious Dad was looking for a job, and it also enclosed a completed application form.

The job was for a position at the World Trade Centre in New York. I sealed the envelope back down and posted it in the post box and went to school. A month passed. Our local postie was strolling up to the door and delivered about ten letters through the letterbox. There was a blue envelope with the words “TRADE CENTRE” printed on it. I took it in to Dad, pretending I didn’t know what it was, but really I did. As soon as he saw it, he gashed it open with his hands which looked as shaky as a leaf blowing in the wind.

Later, he gathered the family around and explained that the World Trade Centre had offered my Dad a two-year trial job, which would start in two years time. In the afternoon he then explained to me “yes, that’s who the letter was from that arrived this morning when I acted so secretive”. Of course, I already knew, but he didn’t know that. The time had come. Me, my Dad, my Mum, my brother and my dog all moved to New York. It was going to be wicked. Another two years had whizzed by when Andy Andrews, the Manager of the Trade Centre, had called Dad to his office alone.

It was only a week before he was finishing his two-year trial period when he thought his contract was coming to an end. Dad came out of Andrews’ office in glee. He ran out and shouted to us that he had been offered a nine-year contract working full time to work on the 79th floor of the World Trade Centre. We were all so happy for him. We ran up to him and squeezed him like a rag doll and congratulated him. It was 8. 00 pm. We all went out for a celebratory meal because my Dad was going to be so rich. He was going to be earning $6,000,000 a year.

His contract was due to start a week after his trial period ended. He went to “Fashion Fit” the most expensive suit shop in New York so that he could look the part. He went to the till in “Fashion Fit” with his credit card and wallet and asked “Excuse me, how much is this suit? ” The shop assistant said ” that is the most expensive suit in the shop, it will cost you $2,000,000″. That didn’t stop my oakum Dad from handing his credit card over. After this spending spree, my Dad went home, put on his new suit, and drove his brand spanking new BMW to work.

He even had a car park space with his name painted on it, which was right outside the entrance to the World Trade Centre. He walked on in and jumped in the lift to floor 79. Five minutes later the lift stopped at Floor 79. My Dad hopped out, found his desk and computer and got to work straight away. On his desk it said Jon Doherty – Deputy Manager. He couldn’t believe his eyes that he had been hired as the Deputy Manager of the whole building out of all the 4,789 people that work in there. There we have it, that is the story of how my Dad got a job in the World Trade Centre in New York.

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