Destination India. Katy Colins
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seems to have such an impact on my life.’ Well at least she could see the ironic side. It was the first time in the twenty minutes since she’d been sitting opposite me that she’d smiled, the worry lines on her pale thin face receding as she was instantly taken back to her youth. ‘I saw an advert about the tours you organise, with people like me I guess, and just hoped you would have something for me?’ She looked so lost I wanted to give her a hug, but I noticed the guy talking to Kelli kept staring over at us – breaking the intimate moment with a strange cold glance.
I nodded and patted her hand. ‘We will do our best to get you back to that happy young woman. I’m positive about that.’
I started to tap on my keyboard, looking for tours that would suit her. We had had an amazing success rate of matching people with countries and challenges that seemed to pull them out of their comfort zone and fix them back together again. The wall of the office behind me was tacked with so many thank-you cards and postcards from other customers who had once been sitting in the exact same chair as her. This was why I loved my job. The satisfaction from helping people get back on their feet was immeasurable – so what if it meant other things in my life may have been slipping?
Not long later, Nice-Nails Lady was booked to go to Barcelona, looking to reignite her Spanish youth. She would be in a small group dusting off her language skills, joining fun nights out and soaking up the architecture all around her. She left the shop clutching the information to her bony chest, beaming. I couldn’t help but smile too.
I noticed that the strange man Kelli had been talking to had also left. ‘What was he after?’ I asked her, picking up shreds of tissue from the floor.
Kelli shrugged. ‘Was a right weirdo. I asked him what he was looking for but all he was bothered about were boring facts about the business.’ She popped a piece of gum in her mouth and chewed it loudly.
‘Did you speak to him like how we told you?’ I shuddered thinking back to when we’d first hired her, a favour to Trisha who was friends with Kelli’s aunt. A few weeks after she’d started, a new customer had walked in, someone in a similar position to the lady I’d just helped: red ringed eyes and chapped nose from the constant wiping of tears and snot. Ben and I were both on the phone at the time so Kelli had bounded over to her, thrusting our brochures into this poor woman’s sad face. She had started crying almost immediately seeing the faded band T-shirt that Kelli was wearing and explained mid-sobs how her ex loved that band. Instead of consoling her, offering her a cup of tea and a seat in a comfy chair, Kelli burst out laughing, exclaiming that she wore that T-shirt ironically as their music was utter shite. A true believer in tough love was our Kelli; let’s just say the client made a quick exit and never returned.
She always used to rock up late with pillow creases down her pale cheeks and no apology, she never wore suitable clothes and barely brushed her hair but Ben was adamant we keep her on to please her aunt and said that with a little encouragement she would blossom. He was right. Ben had spent a lot of time patiently explaining to Kelli how she needed to listen to the customers before judging them on the music their ex liked or chucking our tours down their throats. Some customers were just not ready to go off and explore the world; they were still grieving their relationship and not yet ready to turn the page and start a new life.
Kelli’s hunched-up shoulders had gradually softened, her timekeeping had improved and that sulky teen attitude that she’d had when she first walked in here had evolved into a sort of vulnerable confidence. She wasn’t the perfect employee but she had a heart of gold and got what we were trying to achieve here, even if she did still have as much tact as a heavy-handed butcher at times.
‘Err yeah.’ Kelli rolled her kohl-heavy eyes at me. ‘Even if he was acting shifty I still offered him a brew. He said no though.’
I chucked the tissue in the bin and looked at her. ‘What do you mean shifty?’
‘I dunno. Just asking about how the shop was doing … something about turning?’
‘Turnover? Money?’
She shrugged, bored with this conversation. ‘Maybe. I said you were doin’ all right, although you could pay me a little more.’ She said this so matter-of-factly I wanted to laugh.
‘If I could, you know I would.’ I smiled at her as she rolled her eyes. ‘Did he look like he was going to book a tour?’
‘Er, he was asking about that India one, you know the one that’s going tits up.’ She yawned.
‘It’s not going tits up.’ I pursed my lips at her. ‘It’s just had a few not so great reviews, that’s all.’ Getting to the bottom of why was high on my to-do list. We had been lucky to receive almost five stars for every other trip we offered, and the India trip had initially received similar reviews, but now it just felt like the black sheep of the family.
She nodded slowly. ‘Well anyway, I gave him the brochure.’
‘OK, good,’ I mumbled distractedly. There was another Indian tour leaving in a few weeks and I was determined to make sure this one was the best ever.
‘Hey, what’s with that face?’ Ben asked as he put his phone down and got up to flick on the kettle.
‘Nothing. Just thinking about those Indian reviews again.’ I sighed. ‘Kelli was just with a customer asking about going to India with us. I can’t face another set of one stars.’
Ben got the milk out of the fridge. ‘Don’t worry, Georgia. Our winning streak was bound to come to an end one day. I’m amazed we’ve managed to notch up so many five stars already. It’s only normal that we’re not going to please everyone.’
‘But we should! We work hard in picking the best tour guides, the nicest hotels, the funnest activities,’ I half cried. ‘Every tour should go without a hitch.’
‘Yeah and My Chemical Romance should get back together and tour again, but not everything we want works out,’ Kelli piped up.
‘Thanks for that, Kel, really helpful,’ I said sarcastically.
‘She’s right, you know,’ Ben said, passing me a full-to-the-brim cup of tea. I took the mug and smiled gratefully. On the front was a photo of us from the local paper when we opened our business just last year. We looked so happy, unaware of what we were getting ourselves into and the adventures that lay ahead. I still cherished this mug even if the dishwasher had smeared off most of the colour and my smile had faded half away.
‘Cheers,’ I said and he winked back. ‘What do you mean she’s right?’
‘Well, I know we want to offer the best tours to our customers and make everyone who comes in this shop or travels with us happier than they were before they met us, but it doesn’t always work like that, Georgia. We can’t fix everyone’s problems. Getting some duff reviews is just part and parcel of this business, especially when we’re working with some very heartbroken people. It’s just the way it is.’ He shrugged and sat back at his desk.
I sighed. Maybe he was right. Maybe the perfectionist in me needed to just chill out. ‘But don’t you think it’s weird that a lot of these reviews are coming from the Indian tour?’
‘I’ve been to India a few times. That is one crazy place.’ Ben shook his head, lost in some memory. ‘I bet those people struggled with the country rather than our tour. It’s a whole other world over there, far removed from the life we live here and for some that culture shock is too much to take. Come on, please don’t get stressed about it. Like you say, we have the best guides, the best trips planned and we give it one hundred per cent, but we can’t control everything.’
I nodded slowly. ‘I guess.’
‘So, how was your dad’s birthday meal? Did they like the restaurant?’ Ben asked, changing the subject.
I tapped my forehead. ‘Oh my God, I completely forgot to tell you.’
‘Tell me what?’
‘OK, well you know that sales guy Dan at Itchy