Decline and Fall: a tale of unemployment (part 1)

Janet Percy was at the hen party of her friend, Sheena Patel. They stood chatting with cocktails in their hands.

‘This is a great night out Sheena and such an exotic bar, and that was a lovely Pina Colada, but my dear friend, when is the stripogram going to arrive? Every time a man walks through the door, I’m thinking is that him? Is this the stripogram. Is he going to come over here and arrest us or something, handcuff us and tie us down, and then start stripping.’

‘But it wasn’t up to me to arrange for one, now was it? You’re my best friend. I thought you would have ordered one.’

‘Yes and why didn’t I? You know we just weren’t organised were we? There’s ten girls here. It wouldn’t have taken any trouble to have organised a little subscription. And to think! I saw one once at a bar – someone else’s hen do – and my how handsome he was. And so servile as well, very deferential you know. Letting all the hens grease his chest down and he was just smiling to bits and loving all the attention. And I saw all the hens just going for it in the end, snogging him, groping his backside. No we’ve missed out my girl, we weren’t organised. And in six weeks time when you’ve been married for what seems an eternity and your husband’s snoring in bed and weeing on the carpet – you’ll think to yourself then, oh why didn’t I have a stripogram!’


They were good friends and stood there talking with each other, smiling genially with that deep seated happiness that exists between true friends, especially on a night like this, a night that marked a turning point in the life of Sheena, who was moving to London to get married. They would not be seeing each other so often after tonight. So there was an especial poignancy in the air between them. They were both the type of person who loved thinking and talking about sex, but when it came down to it, it never quite happened. Like the stripogram tonight. Janet had not quite had the heart and courage to order one, even though she’d thought about it a lot.


‘Janet’ said Sheena, changing to a more serious note ‘look, I just wanted to thank you for all you’ve done for me and everything. Making me feel so welcome, when I first started at CPIS. You were so kind to me…..and that was three years ago now and you’ve looked after me like a big sister ever since and I just wanted to say thank you.’


And as a tear was forming in her eye, she embraced Janet. They hugged.


‘Oh come on now, anyone would have done the same. If I hadn’t have liked you now, I wouldn’t have bothered with you.’ She was serious and true in her words, yet whenever faced with emotion like this, she always wanted to make a joke.


‘And anyway we’ll soon see each other again. In a few months time’ continued Janet ‘you’ll be so fed up with so called marital bliss, that you’ll have to come and stay with me for a weekend. We’ll go out on one of our little benders and fly the red flag of the Florentines. No Sheena, there’s no need to give up the good things in life just for marriage. Your life is not over, our friendship is not at an end. We’ll stay in touch. And next time we will hire a stripogram, one of those male slave types, you know the ones, with a naked chest and ball and chain, and we’ll order him about and make him do tasks and force him to strip.’


The evening came to an end and the women went home. Janet was forty-two and lived alone in a one bedroom flat. She always loved talking of men and about sex, but she had no taste at all for the banality of married life or any desire to get caught up in the everyday intimacies of living with another person. In the dead of night, when all she wanted was to sleep, the thought of someone lying next to her just irritated her as though he encroached upon her territory. At such times she just wanted her bed to herself.


Sheena was married and left. Life went on. Janet continued to work at CPIS, a shipping company. She worked there as an office clerk. Probably, if she had have been born twenty years later or so she would have gone to university. But as it stood she had made her way in life at times as a secretary and at times as an office clerk. And for the last ten years she’d been at CPIS.


One day she was in the photocopying room chatting to another female employee. In walked old Evans, the boss.


‘Hello ladies’


‘Hello, sir’ replied Janet. ‘How are you?’


‘Oh well, thank you, how about you?’


‘Yes I’m fine thanks. Did you have a good time up in Edinburgh, at your daughters?


‘Yes, it was great actually. We got to see our three little grandchildren, I think I showed you the photo, didn’t I? We drove up on the Friday evening, Maureen and I. They’re lively little things, the kids! I’ve been running around all weekend playing hide and seek and this game they’ve got, twister I think it’s called, is that it? Do you know it? They roped me and Maureen in and wouldn’t take no for an answer. Imagine it, your old boss and his wife on their hands and knees bending over backwards, those little tinkers laughing devilishly to see us in such pain. I’ve put my back out bending so much.


‘Oh sir! But it’s good fun, I played it myself with my nieces once. Down in Hampshire, at my brothers. And how is Maureen? Are her feet any better?’


‘There a bit better, thanks Janet. Yes she’s had a lot of pain with them this last year. The chiropodist keeps treating them, but she has to keep going back regularly. She’s hoping they’re going to be alright for August when we go on holiday, otherwise it’ll limit how much walking she can do.’


‘Yes that would be a pity’ she added. ‘My mother always had problems with her corns and bunions. It can be really painful, I know.’


She expressed such genuine sympathy, and was such a good listener, that Evans enjoyed chatting with her, if they happened to meet like this. She was often to be found talking with colleagues, avoiding the boredom that work presented to her, either by going to the photocopier room, or making a coffee, or simply chatting outright. She loved flirting also, and enjoyed passing the tedium of office time that way.


‘She’s not teaching you her bad habits, is she now?’ said Evans, trying to bring Debbie, the other employee into the conversation.


‘She’s meant to be showing you how to work, not how to avoid work’ he said teasing.


‘Oh come on sir, that’s a bit harsh!’ said Janet


‘He! He! She’s been here nearly ten years’ said Evans addressing Debbie, with merriment in his eyes, ‘and I’ve never seen her do a full days work yet. She’s always running off to the photocopier room, going for a coffee or chit-chatting or dilly-dallying and thinks that skiving and flirting are part of the job description. I said to her when Sheena leaves my girl, you’re actually going to have to do some work!’


‘And I have!’ pleaded Janet, ‘I have!’ There was such an age difference between the two, that she felt very comfortable in his presence. She suffered somewhat from low self-esteem, and so felt much easier with an old man like Evans who she could always count upon to be amiable.


But a few months down the line things changed. Evans had a near fatal stroke and had to be retired. A new boss came in.


He was in his forties, tall, well-built and dark, fairly handsome and very manly. He was totally serious, was not given to smiling, was quite cool headed and hard handed, and simply reeked of testosterone in a terrifying manner. And he wasn’t particularly kind or humorous and he didn’t have that genial ray of sunshine within him that Janet had and which she liked to see in others.


From the minute he walked in the door Janet’s heart sank. She felt she didn’t like him. She felt really put out by him as if he trampled on her light-hearted philosophy. She felt the force and brutality of him as if she would be knocked aside by him. She felt she meant nothing to him, would never mean anything to him. And she was really downcast. It was as if a dark cloud had suddenly appeared to terrorise and menace the relative peace and happiness of her days. She felt herself targeted as though by a predator. And he was like an irresistible force: he couldn’t be reasoned with or overcome: he would never see anything of merit in Janet.


She felt she could be steam-rollered over by him at any minute. And she just couldn’t in her heart like him, with his fancy car which he seemed incredibly precious of, his dark good looks, his air of business and meanness, the fact that he never smiled, that he seemed soulless, always dissatisfied, that he was an unhappy person at heart; and it didn’t help that he was of a similar age to herself, and simply his whole demeanour, his masculine, rough and tough, testosterone fuelled stupidity annoyed her.


Nevertheless, submissive person that she was, she made every attempt to please him and to be nice to him, and chided herself for her fear of him, telling herself that you should never judge by appearances, and that of course, just because he seemed business minded and driven, and drove a fancy BMW that didn’t mean he wasn’t a decent man at heart.


But it wasn’t really any good. Please him she could not. And whenever she tried to do so, or asked him how he was or even tried engaging him – she dared not flirt with him – he just seemed to get more annoyed with her, as though she was a pesky midge. A dark cloud had come over Janet’s life. Her work life first and foremost; but it spilled over to her life after hours as well.


Then one day, there was a buzz in the office. Blackmore, the new boss, gathered everyone together. There was going to be some streamlining at CPIS, the whole business was to be revamped, restructured and re-ordered. In other words there were going to be cutbacks.


There were thirteen office workers and Blackmore told them the score. The facts were that CPIS had to streamline if it were going to survive. And inevitably and unfortunately that meant that one or two people would have to be laid off.


However, there was room for compromise, and it wasn’t all bad news. If one person were to take voluntary redundancy – and they would be given a decent pay off for the next three years – then probably that would be all the changes needed. Another alternative would be that two or three people could share a job, being employed on a part time basis each. Anyway Blackmore wanted them to think about it, and he had decided that, in a week’s time they would each hand him a note, not to be seen by the other employees, in which they would state if they were willing to take full time or part time redundancy or if on the contrary they would like to keep their jobs. That way the situation might be worked out amicably. If not, well then they would have to see.


When Blackmore had finished and returned to his office, there was much heated talk in the workplace.


‘Well’ said a middle aged woman, Susan, ‘I’m absolutely enraged by this. If he thinks I’m going to lose my job or become a part-timer he can forget it. I’ll take him to a tribunal. I can’t afford it, I really can’t. I’ve got three kids and a mortgage to think about. And he just waltzes in here and treats us like scum and thinks he can get away with it. Well I’m sorry, but no. I won’t let him take my job, I won’t. And I’ll take it to court if necessary. Who does he think he is, coming in here like macho-man with a business degree, with his five bedroom house and BMW and he thinks he can just take the food out of the mouth of my children and it’s as easy as that and who gives a damn! Well I’ll tell you if he even dares to think he can get away with this, I’ll take him to court!’


And there was much concurrence and accord with this sentiment. Susan was an intelligent woman, wore glasses, and could always put her thoughts succinctly, and Janet thought her very loquacious. And she knew her rights and was always one for believing in the rights of the people. She was educated as well, had an ego of her own and wasn’t impressed with macho-man.


‘No you’re absolutely spot on’ said another employee Chris, ‘he doesn’t have children himself and has probably never known what it is to be poor. I’ve worked my way up from nothing. I can still remember what it’s like to be penniless and adrift. His sort have always had it good and don’t know how the other half lives. Rich parents, university degrees, mooching easy as you like into top jobs, he doesn’t have a clue. I’ve had to scrap and scrape for every penny I’ve ever earned, every pissing penny, I tell you! I’ve worked hard for fifteen flipping years at this place. And now he swans in here and thinks he can get rid of me? Thinks he can just give me the boot and say adios amigo? Well you’re right Susan, you’re absolutely bloody right, we’ve got rights, we’ve got bloody rights. And if that sod thinks he can violate them he can forget it. I’ve just booked a foreign holiday for God’s sake! What am I meant to do? Go home and tell the wife it’s all over? ‘Sorry kids, the holiday’s off this year I’m afraid. And by the way Christmas is cancelled!’’


And so the hubbub went on. Everyone seemed adamant that they would remain and was having their two pennies worth. Everyone except Janet.


That night she was deep in thought. All the other workers were clearly tormented. They didn’t want to lose their jobs and yet it was patent one of them would have to. They were terrified it would be them. The whole team got on well in general, and yet now one of them had to be chosen, one of them had to be sacrificed for the good of the many, or at least two had to make a half sacrifice. And though they were friends, the friendship wasn’t so strong that it wouldn’t crumble, and in a situation like this each person was fiercely putting out their own stall.


But Janet thought of her own situation. Did she really care for her job that much? Not really. In fact on most days she hated it. And what about that compensation package? That wouldn’t be bad. True she’d be getting less than half her weekly wage over the next three years, but still her days would be her own, she would be free to enjoy her own life, to be, in a word, a lady of leisure. And the thought of it enticed her.


And there were other reasons too. She didn’t have a family or a mortgage. She had no dependents or anything like that. Other employees did. Susan for example had three kids. So too did Chris and Mike, and Carol had a three year old. These people had responsibilities. They had dependents. Surely if anyone should in a moral sense, keep their jobs, then they should. For her to make a sacrifice of herself would be a good deed, Janet thought. The right thing to do. In fact she felt cut out of this clique of parents, she felt different to them, and sensed that they were all looking toward her and saying ‘she doesn’t have children’. And Janet thought they were right. Moreover she thought about Chris’s words. He had worked himself up from nothing. He came in everyday and slogged a gut for the company. He was constantly at his work and often was late finishing in the evening. And herself, Janet? She only worked to get by, because she had to. Most days she would rather not be here, she was always bunking off and looking for a diversion, always chit-chatting and dilly-dallying as Evans had once jokingly said, and in no way at all was her heart and soul in the company. Would it really be fair if Chris was retired in place of her?


But above all this Janet remembered her relationship with Blackmore. If the truth be told, if she sat down and took a deep breath and thought about it, then it was very clear that there was no love lost between them, and they would never get on, not in a million years. She recalled how Blackmore had informed the staff of the changes: hadn’t he been looking at her? Wasn’t that a subtle hint. She thought so. She had felt herself cornered out and selected, isolated even. It was only body language she knew, but wasn’t it true all the same? She always felt Blackmore was displeased by her presence. She was more and more lonely in the office now without Sheena, and she felt silently disliked by Blackmore without having anyone to talk to about it. She felt vulnerable and alone: Blackmore wanted rid of her, she was sure.


So she decided to take this redundancy and that was that. Blackmore called her into his office.


‘Well Janet, I see here that you’ve put in to take voluntary redundancy.’ He spoke in a miserable, humourless tone that was anathema to Janet. Nevertheless she made a real effort to be polite and there was a kind, sensitive, smiley expression in her eyes, as she looked at him. She was so submissive and nodded and agreed so politely as he told her all this.


‘In fact’ he continued in his dull monotone, ‘you were the only one. It’s therefore just a matter of getting a few details sorted out and you can enjoy your retirement.’ Retirement? She felt annoyed by this. How old did Blackmore think she was? She was taking redundancy, not retirement.


They spent half an hour or so going through the details. Blackmore was unremitting in his dull, emotionless way. He didn’t thank her for her sacrifice – she had thought he would finally be pleased with her for this but he wasn’t – and as quietly rude as he was to her, she in return was as pleasant to him, kindly and intelligently making eye contact with him and agreeing with everything he said. She noticed he had a calendar on his wall of girls with huge breasts in bikinis. She was really quite intimidated by him and his person.


Half an hour later the business was settled and Janet made to leave. Just as she was on the threshold, Blackmore called her back.


‘Oh and Janet?’


‘Yes sir?’ she turned to face him, her face full of sensitive expectation


‘Shut the door as you go would you’


‘Yes of course,’ and she exited.


When the other employees heard the news they were thankful and extremely grateful to Janet.


A few months later and she was leaving. They had a retirement do for her in the office on the Friday afternoon that she left. Just a small party, but it was pleasant enough with sandwiches, biscuits and a champagne toast. And she was given a card, and they all wished her well – including Blackmore who’d signed his name – and when she was home that evening she found herself overcome with emotion.


‘I didn’t know they all cared about me so much. They’ve been so nice’ she said to herself, and she felt terribly guilty.


The next day she wrote a letter to Sheena:



My dear friend,


It’s finally happened. Today I finished at CPIS. There’s been such a change around since you left, since the days of you, me and jolly old Evans. But in the end I ’m glad to leave. And it’s a fairly nice package as well. Means yours truly is now a lady of leisure. I’ll be free to toodle around town and have all those affairs I’ve been meaning to have. But seriously I just can’t wait. You know I was sorry at first to lose my job, but then on reflection, not really. It seems as if I’ve been chained to that company for a lifetime, but now my fetters have been cut. What drudgery and utter boredom! Now I’m free, free to have a holiday – for three whole years!


I’m so excited. I feel as if I’ve got my life back. World here I come! I intend to kick-start my life again with a shopping spree. To town, to town on Monday morning!


I hope you are well my petal and that you’re marriage isn’t too dull/ monotonous/boring or that you’re pregnant or something terrible like that.
Anyway toodley-pip my dear and take care. Sincerely, I feel so guilty: my life is set to take off!



Best Wishes


Janet



P.S. I’ve joined an online dating agency. Must dash have got hunks to chat to!