RICHARDMature

I was Dylan's mentor when he did work experience at the hotel years ago. I used to work there whenever I could because acting is not a good career to enter into if you want to make a lot of money. I mean I worked hard in school, performed in plays outside of school, went to university when nobody I knew was doing the same... and then most of the time I was out of work. So, I was working in Food and Beverage at the Mildaley Park Inn - the most prestigious hotel in Mildaley and possibly in Phalscam. It was good work actually - the day was routine and I like routine. I couldn't be doing with pushing a hoover up and down all day. My day mostly consisted of washing and drying the glasses and cutlery, setting the tables, laying the tables, clearing the tables, arranging food and serving food. And I did whatever jobs needed picking up, like wiping tables. I even tampered in room service. 

Anyway, Dylan came to work with us briefly around October/November, I think it was eight years ago. I remember him because he did as he was told. And he'd take whatever jobs you threw at him. Really, he was a keen boy. Even helped out around the bar, although he was still to young to be serving alcohol. 

Then shortly after he left, very very shortly, Beryl wanted to know why £44.20 had disappeared out of one of the tills. I had an inkling it might be Dylan, but he was such an honest soul you wouldn't have thought it possible. My agent had just told me about this production of The Importance that they were holding auditions for and she thought I could get a good part in that. And I thought, well if anyone gets the blame it ought to be me. I can't let one of the young foolish girls in Food and Beverage get sacked. Most of them were still living with their parents, couldn't get a deposit on a flat even if they wanted to. They needed their jobs. So I admitted to it, and they said I'd have to leave. Fine by me, I said, and left.

In a way, you could look at it as a kind of redemption. I mean, owning up to this sort of made up for all the minor felonies I'd committed against my employers. For instance, I ate more of the leftover bits and pieces than I cared to admit, and on a plate's journey from one of the tables to the waste disposal, some bits of bacon or toast would go missing. I thought it was better to eat them than waste them but what did that say about me? Dylan would never have done something like that. He was honest. Dependable. That's why I took the rap.

Where was I? Oh yes, Dylan. Yes, I remember him. He was a nice lad and he didn't deserve to die like that. Shame, really, he was only a young thing. And his sister too. They were both skinny little scraps who looked like they'd never had a decent meal. Poor Shelby. She was dressed nicely enough though, at the funeral. And her parents too. 

The End

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