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Authors: Samantha Davies

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BOOK: After Work Excess
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So Samantha, I've just received the latest copy of the national personal banker's sales league table,” he stated, whilst looking at a printed sheet of paper and scratching his double chin, before adding “and I see that you're currently ranked as number 1,321...”

I nervously fiddled with my diamond ring, before replying with “Surely I can't be that low down the table?”

“No, it says it right here, although this in only based on the last four weeks.”


I guess it's just a blip then...” I professed.

He paused before pulling out two more sales charts, one from the previous month and the other for the month prior to that, before stating “According to last months figures you were ranked as 43
rd
nationally, and 2
nd
in the branch.”

That's good then,” I replied more optimistically, before adding “and how about for the month before?”

“That was also a good month, as you were 29
th
nationally and 1
st
in this branch, but of course – we're not here to reflect on your
past performances
, are we?”


No, I guess not...”


So, with a ranking of 1,321, and last in this branch, I'd have to say that it certainly seems that you've lost your mojo Samantha, wouldn't you?”


I think it's more of a
blip
, as I was saying...” I countered, whilst feeling increasingly nervous.


What do you normally average as a cash bonus at the end of the month Samantha?” he asked.


Usually I get somewhere between 500 and 700 pounds...” I replied.


Well I can tell you that on your next pay-check, you haven't qualified for anything, and if I have a quick look at how the first half of how this month is shaping up,” he began before putting his cheap glasses on and tapping into his computer keyboard “your again heading for no bonus whatsoever, you haven't even made the minimum threshold.”


What nothing at all..?”


Well you are ranked well outside the top one thousand Samantha, what did you expect?” he asked, as he removed his glasses for effect.


Okay, but I'm sure that I can pull it around before the end of the month.” I replied, desperately trying to appear confident in my own ability.

He again paused, before he attempted to conclude the meeting with “Well if this afternoon is anything to go by, you've got a lot of work to do to get back to where you were before I joined this branch. So go away and have a think about your future, and remember that if there's anything troubling you at home, you can always come and talk to me.”

“No – I've got no problems at home Brian,” I replied dishonestly, before adding “If that's all Brian, I'd better get back to it?”


No that's all for today Samantha, now I want you to go home and think things through – rather than stay late tonight, and then return tomorrow with a fresh spring in your step...”

***

I walked from his office with the feeling of a distinct tear in my eye, as everything that he had said was absolutely true, but I just hadn't been prepared to be told that my performance was quite
so
woeful, as he had pointed out. I could clearly sense that the other personal bankers were watching me, as I grabbed my hand bag from beneath my desk and headed for the main door. They'd all be doing at least another 2 hours of work - chasing up their sales leads and no doubt pulling further ahead of me in the league table, but all I wanted was to get myself home – and lock the front door behind myself.

Four hours later, and whilst enjoying my third glass of cheap white wine, with the empty tray of my
pasta meal for one
next to me on the coffee table, I looked intently at the screen of my laptop. I was logged into my online banking account and looking at the previous months outgoings, to try to ascertain where the end of this month would leave me financially, especially without receiving any kind of bonus. It was a grim picture, as without John's contribution to the rent, and with all of the other bills including my credit cards and the repayment on my recently purchased second-hand BMW Mini, I calculated that I'd be earning at least £700 less that my outgoings.

I therefore concluded that I needed to
get back on track,
and fast, or, if I was willing to lower myself, I could see two or three guys, for some account balancing '
cash for sex
' liaisons. For me, sadly there would always be that option, lurking in the background of my mind, as it was always the easy option
waiting in the wings
, just in case things became a real struggle, but it certainly wasn't an option that I was willing to
bring into play
right now.

My thoughts were then swiftly interrupted, as my phone bleeped, and I eagerly picked it up in the hope that it was anther message from Claire, and that she was now up for a night out tomorrow, on Friday night, but sadly it was just another message from Jamie, and it read '
Hey babes, you up to much tonight? X x x
'.

I really wasn't in the mood for another night of intrusive text messages from him, and so I sent him a message straight back, simply saying '
I'm out, with friends tonight, so I'll text you tomorrow x
'.

My Friday morning at work seemed to be going surprisingly well, as against my recent run of poor form, I seemed to be getting myself back on track. I'd sold two home insurance policies, opened a current account as well as two ISAs and even managed to pass one customer upstairs to the local business manager. Brain even looked over at me with an approving nod, and despite noticing that he had a dubious stain on his tie, which resembled dried egg yoke, I smiled back, as if to say '
I'm gonna do this, I'm gonna get back to how I used to be – to be the branch's top seller.
' I think that we both knew that this month was a total right off, no matter what I did now, but there was always next month, as I felt that my confidence was finally beginning to return!

My temporary return to form was interrupted though, as mid-afternoon, just after I had helped a customer to understand how online banking works, a tall figure suddenly jumped the queue and sat before me at my desk. I had already been acutely aware of his entrance into the branch, as this hooded character had thrown down his BMX just outside the main door, partially blocking the entrance, but with him now sat before me, I had no option but to talk to him.

“What are you doing here Jamie?” I coolly asked, whilst trying to keep my professional composure.


I just thought I'd pop in and see you, as I've just finished work...”


Well thanks for popping in, but as you can see – I've got a queue of customers lined up to see me.


Popular girl aren't you, by the way I'm loving the glasses Sammy!”


Thanks, but I've really got to
get on
, so what is it that you want Jamie?”


I just wondered if you wanted to do something tonight, as it's Friday night?”

I paused, suddenly aware that this had become all the more difficult with him sat in-front of me, and then responded with “Look we do need to talk, so I'll phone you later – yeah?”

Brian then thankfully provided a welcome, but rare interruption, as he leant between us, with his hand on the back of the chair that Jamie was slouched in and said “Is everything okay here Samantha?”

Jamie looked up at him with a scowl, as I interjected before he could speak and said “Yes everything's just fine, I was just explaining to this young man that he needs to make an appointment to see me.”

As Jamie got up, he looked at Brian, no doubt noting his middle-aged spread and the dried egg on his tie, as he said “Yeah she's a popular girl this one, so I've just made an appointment, and I'll let you know how it goes mate!”

Brian looked totally flummoxed, especially as Jamie then winked at him, and promptly swaggered out of the branch.

***

That evening, after a much needed post-work shower and my standard ready meal for one, I sat in my dressing gown, texting the girls. Although I was aware that we'd already had our Wednesday
girls night out
, I was desperate to try to cajole them into getting their heels on and coming into town with me. I knew that my finances were in a total mess, but I just didn't want to be sat in alone, I needed to be out there – enjoying myself with my favourite
girlies
. Unfortunately though, it was a fruitless task, as one by one they all told me that they had other plans for the evening.

Half an hour later another text message arrived, this time from Jamie, which read '
Hey babe, you still up for chatting, as I could pop over? X x x'

I thought about a suitable response for a few minutes and then decided that the last thing that I needed tonight, was to be sat here with Jamie, having to explain that he wasn't actually what I was looking for at the moment, or ever for that matter! I therefore sent him a short reply saying '
Sorry I'm out tonight, but I can meet you for an hour on Sunday - at lunchtime, if you like?
'

Thankfully he didn't reply, and so with my ever increasing message of disinterest hopefully beginning to finally sink in, I settled down on the sofa, clicking the TV on and opened a bottle of white wine.

I'd just finished my third glass when the door-bell rang, and it must have been almost 11pm. Reluctantly, I opened the door to see that Jamie was stood before me holding a take-away pizza box, a McDonald’s bag and a box of Kentucky Friend Chicken, as he said “I saw that the lights were on, and I thought that you might have the munchies after your night out?”

I couldn't help but smile, feeling totally left footed, as I had already lied to him about my night out, and now here he was – before me with an exuberant display of take away junk food. “Well, I guess that you'd better come in...”

“Cool, it's freezing out there.” he proclaimed before hanging his puffa jacket up in my hallway, as if he was my boyfriend, returning home from yet another lads night out.


I guess you'll want a drink then, with all that food?”


No '
Samantha'
, as that fat man at the bank calls you, I've thought of everything”, as he went back to his jacket and pulled out two bottles of cobra lager from his deep pockets.


I'm not sure I want one of them though, as I've already had three glasses of wine...” I explained.


Nonsense,” he began, before opening the parcels of food and spreading them out on the coffee table before me, and adding “you're gonna need a drink to help you get through this lot!”


What, you mean that this is all for me?”


No you dumb arse, I'm kind, but not
that
kind, now tuck in!”

I sat beside him, with the volume turned down on the TV and helped myself to a slice of pipping hot take away pizza. It was a thoughtful gesture, the sort of gesture that you would expect someone to make for a friend that was suffering from flu, although that didn't hide the fact that we still needed to have
that talk
.

A little later and with all that remained of our food, only fit for the bin, I said “Christ I feel stuffed now...”

“Me too,” Jamie replied, before adding “is that Lost DVD still in the player..?”


I think so, yes...” I replied, before adding, “but haven't you got to be heading home soon?”


Yes, but I've got time for just one episode...”

He then grabbed for the remote, as we both naturally found our way over to the sofa. I guess that I could have kicked him out there and then, but he had brought me all of that food, and all he wanted now was to watch one episode with me, and hopefully – at some point during it, I could initiate
our talk
. He pressed the play button, and the machine thankfully sprang to life, continuing from just where we had left off on the previous weekend. After all of that food and a whole bottle of wine, I was just thankful to be able to lie back, next to him and switch off for a bit...

It must have been mid-way through the episode when I must have dosed off, and was then gently awoken to see the credits rolling on my small flat-screen TV.

“Hey
Miss sleepy head
, you must have dosed off, after all that food?”


Yeah, I guess so...” I weakly replied.

I noted that my dressing gown was still neatly secured and that he hadn't attempted to initiate any sort of sexual advance on me, as I asked “What's the time?”

“A little after mid-night, so are you going to bed?”


I think I need to yes...”


Do you want me to go home, or are you happy for me to stay over?”

BOOK: After Work Excess
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ads

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