bag in the bottom drawer of the desk. How long had she been doing this job? He hadn’t even thought to ask her. All he knew from a letter she sent a while back, before Mum’s funeral, was that she was a hotel manager. “Right, I’ll show you around, give you a quick tour and find you a uniform.”
On their way down the narrow staff corridor they met a young man wearing chef whites, adjusting his hat. “Hi, Ruby,” he said.
“Oh, this is Brett,” Ruby said and smiled. Under his chef’s hat poked coal-black hair. He wore glasses and had a diamond stud earring in his left ear. “He works in the restaurant.”
Steve held out his hand and smiled. “Hello.”
“This is my brother…Stuart,” Ruby said, after a deep breath.
The young man, probably of similar age to Ruby, took Steve’s hand. He had a firm handshake, which surprised Steve, because Brett was slim built. Maybe the chef whites masked his true appearance.
“Hi, I’m the sous chef.”
“Nice to meet you, Sue,” Steve said, and winked, internally cringing – the joke had come out all wrong. He’d sounded American then. Need to concentrate on the accent.
Luckily Brett laughed. “So what you doing here? Ruby has never mentioned a brother.”
“She’s giving me a job until I find my feet,” Steve said the first thing that entered his head. Act. Remember to act.
“Right, well there’s lots to see, talk later, Brett,” Ruby said quickly, grabbing Steve’s arm.
Steve waved a friendly goodbye to Brett, who watched Ruby with a happy expression, then nodded at Steve.
Phew, one down, the rest of the staff to go. Maybe he could do this.
Entering a staff area full of lockers, Ruby rummaged through a cupboard. She handed Steve some clothes and pointed to where he could change, providing him with his own locker key.
“The rule is to get changed here,” Ruby said. “Not to wear the clothes out of the hotel.”
“Why’s that?”
“So that you don’t go down the pub wearing your uniform, and get drunk and give the company a bad name.” Ruby smiled. “Leave your belongings in the locker too. You’re not allowed a mobile phone or any money on you.” Steve nodded. “Meet me back in my office when you’re changed.”
Steve fixed his tie and pulled on the three-quarter length jacket over his waistcoat. There was a lot to be said for tailor-made suits – and he wanted his back, now. The grey uniform trousers with their starched crease down the front were a little short in the leg, especially when sitting, and the shirt, like his burgundy polyester jacket, fitted across his broad shoulders snug but was too big in the waist. This added to the dork factor, supposedly, but he was pretty sure Clark Kent’s clothes had fitted him.
Once he was as happy as he could be with his appearance, he found Ruby’s office.
“Right, I’ll show you around the hotel, introduce you to some of the staff and then leave you at the bar. I have a hotel to manage. I’ll try to make your shifts tally with mine, otherwise I’ll have to drop you in or something, if you have to come in when I’m not working.” She chewed her lip.
“Roo, don’t worry about it, I’ll go with the flow. You’re doing me a huge favour.”
“Okay, let’s do this. Gosh why do I feel nervous?”
“I don’t know, you’re not the one pretending to be Clark Kent.”
“Stuart, Stuart, Stuart,” Ruby mumbled as she left her office.
***
Steve was going to look at all this as experience. Research. You never know when something like this might be needed for acting. He followed Ruby out of her office, his heart beating faster with nerves, his palms sweating. His polyester-cotton mix shirt was making him hot and uncomfortable. He pushed the glasses up. The damn things were hurting behind his left ear and across the bridge of his nose. Did he risk returning to get them adjusted? He needed them to be comfortable as he couldn’t risk not wearing them.
How hard could the work be? It had to be pretty straightforward and he’d do the job adequately. He did worry he’d let Ruby down. All his life he’d acted, though admittedly, he’d done every job imaginable before the acting had taken off. He’d done those successfully, too. Dredging through his memory, he’d done all sorts from waiting tables, serving drinks to working for a pizza delivery company. All in between bit part acting and gigs. Where did fifteen years go when you looked back on them?
“Okay, you’re predominantly going to work in the bar area. You’ll need to learn how to work the coffee machine too, I’ll get Callum to show you.” Ruby spoke as she walked and Steve nodded, running a finger around his collar. “And at quiet periods you may need to man the reception desk. We’re a small hotel, so we have to muck in where we can. You’ll have to work otherwise the others will complain, you understand?”
“Yes, boss.”
She scowled at him.
“Stuart Fisher,” Ruby said, more to herself than Steve as they headed towards the reception desk.
“Stuart Fisher.” He nodded and placed an arm on her shoulder. “Relax, Roo, it will be fine.”
“Yeah, why am I the nervous one here? Just remember to act nerdy, you know, like Clark.”
“Yeah, yeah, but I don’t want to be too clumsy…”
Lois hadn’t fancied Clark – not initially.
“Yes, but too confident and they may see through the disguise. And work on your accent.” Her eyes narrowed. “Right, I need to find Alice,” she mumbled.
They almost bumped into a skinny lad with mild acne as he walked out of the lift.
“Ah, Callum, I want you to meet Stuart,” Ruby said, as Steve held out his hand. As Callum returned the handshake, tucking the tray he carried under his other arm, he wore a puzzled expression, as though he’d done nothing so formal in his life. “He’s going to be working with you behind the bar.”
“Hi, Stuart.” Callum looked from Steve to Ruby.
“He’s my older brother,” she said.
“Yeah, Ruby’s helping me out. I need a job for a while.” Steve tried very hard to lose his American accent but at the same time not sound like Benedict Cumberbatch. He remembered Ruby’s advice, and his memories of the old Superman movie, trying to mimic Clark, to make his gestures jittery. Clark never stood as tall and straight as Superman.
Steve was naturally confident from years of girls falling at his feet, so now he needed to look less secure about himself – especially standing in front of a guy barely out of his teens.
“Ruby never said she had a brother.” Callum frowned.
“Well, I’ve been away, um, travelling for a while,”
