Swan (18 page)

‘So what you’re basically saying,’ Margery said, ‘is
that we’re all going to have to reapply for our jobs?’

Angela hesitated. ‘In a manner of speaking, yes.’

‘And how many “Customer Specialist” posts are there
available?’

‘Well, that hasn’t yet been confirmed. I mean, the
members haven’t even given this the go-ahead and -’

‘Just a brief estimate will do.’

‘Um, er, about twenty.’

‘Twenty?’ Margery was incredulous. ‘Twenty? So, if
I’ve got this right, that means half of us in this room are going to be out of
a job come April?’

‘In a manner of speaking, yes.’

A deadly hush descended over the room. Caroline
wiped away a tear and Rodney looked like a bewildered Dachshund. I exhaled
loudly. Angela Towner was really starting to piss everyone off.

Sabina shook her head. ‘What a time to tell us, eh?
And just before Christmas too. Talk about Scrooges.’

‘But Angela,’ Caroline sobbed, ‘can you at least
guarantee that these new jobs will be ring fenced to this department only? I
mean, you won’t advertise the jobs externally, will you?’

‘I’m sorry but I can’t make any promises, Caroline.
In all likelihood, the vacancies will be open to everyone in the council.
Possibly even the general public.’

‘What hope do we have then?’ Margery snapped. ‘It
looks like we had all better start job hunting from tomorrow.’

‘Well, I wouldn’t be quite that dramatic,’ Angela
said, ‘I mean, April is still a long way off.’

Margery turned on her with blazing eyes. ‘Maybe it
is for you, Angela. But for those of us with kids, for those of us with
mortgages, who don’t have the luxury of a box at Ascot to comfort us, it might
as well be tomorrow. People like us don’t have a six-figure salary and a
gold-plated pension to cushion the blow of redundancy. Thanks a lot, Angela.
You’ve just given us all a wonderful Christmas present. I hope you’re proud of
yourself.’

‘How dare you speak to me like that!’

‘I can speak to you how I bloody well like. You’ve
just as good as told me that I’m out of a job. What did you expect me to do -
shake your hand? What planet are you on, woman?’

‘Get out!’ Angela roared. ‘I will not be spoken to
in such a disrespectful manner.’

‘I’m not going anywhere until my union rep gets
here. You can’t make me.’

‘Get out now!’

We were stunned into silence. All eyes were on
Margery now, as she engaged in a battle of wills with Angela: two wildebeests
eyeing each other up like Clint Eastwood and Lee Van Cleef.

You could hear the sound of a pin-drop.

Then Jaiman stepped in and whispered something in
Margery’s ear. With great reluctance, she followed him outside. Angela hurried
after them. The door slammed and we heard a chorus of raised voices followed by
a long, painful silence.

William nervously adjusted his tie. ‘Right, er, I
think it’s best we get back on the phones now. The service level is bound to
have dropped while we’ve been in here talking. With regards to this matter, I
will keep you all updated on any future developments.’

‘I think I need a drink,’ Caroline sighed as we
filed out. ‘Who’s up for going to the pub after work?’

‘I am!’ everyone said.

* * *

Whetherspoons was unusually empty for a Thursday
evening. We entered through the main doors and found ourselves a long table at
the back of the pub to accommodate us. Unsurprisingly, all the managers except
for a sheepish looking Jaiman had declined to join us. They obviously had no
intention of being thrown to the lions just yet.

‘Right, let’s have a little whip around shall we?’
Jaiman smiled. He took a scrunched up piece of paper out from his pocket and
prepared to take notes. ‘So what’s everyone drinking? I don’t mind going to the
bar if someone will help me carry them.’

No one said anything. We were all still feeling
rather jaded.

He wiped his brow with his sleeve and gave a toothy
grin. ‘Tell you what, how ‘bout I make this first round on me? Just tell me what
you want and I’ll get it. No expense spared.’

‘How long have you known?’ someone asked.

‘What?’

‘How long have you known about the redundancies?’

‘Honestly, I was just as shocked as you were,’
Jaiman replied meekly, ‘I had no idea this was coming. I think it’s well out of
order. I mean, telling you guys just before Christmas is so wrong, isn’t it? I
think Angela has handled this very badly.’

‘That’s an understatement,’ Margery said darkly.
‘I’d love to wipe the smirk off that silly cow’s face.’

There were murmurs of agreement around the table.

I studied Margery for a second. Studied her fat face
and dodgy Kevin Keegan perm, her bad skin and bad dress sense and wondered why
she was always so aggressive towards people. I wondered if she had a louche,
domineering husband at home barking orders, screaming at her to get his tea
ready. I wondered if she had no control of her personal life, instead choosing
to vent her frustrations at work. I wondered if she ever felt as fat and ugly
as I did, if she cried herself to sleep at nights, praying that she would wake
up with a different body or face. Perhaps we had more in common than I thought.

Margery turned her glassy eyes on everyone. ‘I hope
you’re all with the union, cos it’s important we stick together. There’s more
power in numbers, know what I mean? What that bitch told us today is illegal.
I’m certain that they can’t just dissolve our jobs like that. Tomorrow, I’m
gonna seek legal advice from the Citizen’s Advice Bureau.’

‘Oh, what Angela did is legal all right,’ Barry
Hopkins said. ‘It’s legal cos they’ve gone about it very sneakily. By
terminating our contracts, and completely doing away with the current job
description, they have saved the council thousands of pounds in legal
disputes.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Well, had they allowed us to keep our jobs and
simply asked us to take a pay cut, they’d have had the full weight of the union
on them. In the public sector, you can’t just cut people’s salary like that.
But you
can
terminate their jobs.’

Jaiman shuffled awkwardly in his seat. ‘Okay, so
what’s everyone drinking?’ He took the orders and scurried off to the bar.

Margery watched him through narrowed slits.’ They’re
all the same, these managers. You can’t trust any of them. At the end of the
day, their jobs are secure so they’ve no idea what we’re going through. How can
they possibly relate?’

‘Jaiman’s all right,’ Caroline said warmly. ‘He’s
not like the rest of them. I think he’s really sweet.’

‘No he isn’t,’ Margery snapped. ‘You’re just saying
that cos you fancy him. Believe me, Caroline, if he had the chance to sell you
out, he would. Do you really think if Angela told him to sack you he’d think
twice about it? No love, he’d do it in a heartbeat. It takes a different breed
of human to be a manager. They’re not like us. They’re cold and cruel and
ruthless. They don’t have a shred of decency in them. Trust me, Jaiman will
always look out for number one.’

‘But isn’t that what everyone does?’ I asked. ‘Look
out for number one, I mean.’

Margery looked across the table at me. ‘Ah, it
speaks,’ she cackled.

Ignoring her jibe, I continued, ‘I don’t think
you’re being fair to the managers, Margery. I mean, they’re just doing their
job. I don’t think any of them enjoys laying people off.’

‘You don’t know what you’re talking about.’

‘I’m just giving you my opinion, that’s all.’

‘Well, I’d prefer it if you didn’t give one. I see
now why you never talk. When you do open your mouth, crap comes out.’

The whole table fell silent.

Sabina gave a nervous cough. ‘Er, I think I’ll go to
the ladies.’ She made a sign at me to follow her. I managed to hold my
composure until we got to the toilets. Then I exploded in a barrage of sobs at
the basin. Sabina came behind me and patted my back soothingly.

‘There, there, don’t let her get to you babe.
Everyone knows Margery’s a bitch. She’s like that to everyone.’

‘I don’t know why she hates me so much, Sabina.
She’s always had it in for me, right from the word go.’

‘It’s because you’re such a nice person. Margery’s
just a bully. She always goes after people she thinks are weaker than her.
Don’t even bother getting worked up over it, Maddy. She’s not worth it.’

I leaned over the basin, patted some cold water on
my face and looked up in the mirror. My face was all red and puffy. I turned
and looked at Sabina. Forced a smile. ‘I’m going home,’ I whispered. ‘I’m not
in the mood anymore.’

She nodded understandingly. ‘Are you sure you’re
going to be okay getting home babe?’

‘I’ll be fine.’

Sabina gave me a hug. She smelled fresh like Ariel
washing powder.  

Chapter
Fourteen

I was still seething when I got home that night. I
hated myself for not having the guts to stand up to Margery, hated the fact
that I was such a wimp. I had never been good at confrontations with women. Even
at school, when the other girls had made fun of me and teased me about my
obsession with Chet, I had found it impossible to defend myself.

As I lay on the sofa watching
Eastenders
, I kept replaying the events of the evening over and
over again in my head, envisaging different scenarios, things I could have said
back to her. Then I started thinking about William’s mid-life crisis jibe. Did
I really come across as some sad old spinster who had lost her grip on reality?
Perhaps I
was
in need of a makeover.
God knows I’d spent the last decade styling my hair like some sad middle-aged
housewife. I wasn’t really helping my cause was I?

By the time
Eastenders
had finished, my mind was made up. Bugger my bad credit rating; I was going to
have some fun for once. I was going to have a complete image over-haul to make
myself appear younger, hipper and fresher. I was so sick of dressing like
Margaret Rutherford at a funeral.
[E10]
 
I’d be damned if William was ever going to mistake me for some
desperado again. No, this was the dawn of a new me. And, more importantly, I’d
have something to surprise David with on his return – a new improved
Madeline Smith!

I plugged in my laptop and cradled it between my
knees on the sofa. As I waited for the Internet to connect, I felt myself
growing more upbeat. Now that I had something positive to focus on, life didn’t
seem so miserable. There was something for me to look forward to.

Once connected, I began surfing the Net looking for
credit card deals. I needed to find a company that offered me credit with
little to no background checks. In other words, a credit card that had a
phenomenally high interest rate – not a bright idea I confess, but I was
now too fired up to care. I would fund my new image and to hell with the
consequences. After all, I told myself, you only live once.

My new card with a £2000 overdraft limit arrived in
the post a week later. I immediately went to Canary Wharf and booked myself a
cut and style at Tony & Guy. My hair was normally a dark brown, but I had
decided to go for red highlights.

‘Why don’t you go all out and do a Christina
Hendricks?’ the chirpy hairdresser suggested as we gazed at my unruly locks in
the mirror.

‘Christina Hendricks?’ I frowned.

‘Yeah, you know ... do the whole hot redhead thing.
I think it’d look really cool on you.’ The young blonde grabbed a handful of my
hair and chewed gum ferociously at her reflection.

I tilted my head to one side. As gorgeous as Miss
Hendricks was, I wasn’t ready to go quite
that
red. I didn’t have the cheekbones to carry it off. So in the end, we settled on
dark auburn with golden brown highlights.

My cheery little hairdresser (Katie from Shadwell)
carefully feathered the front and back with her scissors. I told her sternly I
didn’t want to lose too much of the length as my hair was one of my best (and
only) assets. When I looked in the mirror at the finished result I was blown
away. My hair glowed with health and the cut had given me an air of
sophistication I didn’t think possible. I looked like a total diva.

‘Well, what d’ya think?’ Katie beamed, holding up a
little hand mirror for me to check out the back.

I patted my head, marvelled at its softness. ‘I
absolutely love it. Thank you so much.’

‘Yeah, beautiful innit? I’m well chuffed.’

After I’d finished in the hairdresser, I went to
Boots in search of some make-up. I hadn’t worn so much as mascara since my
teens so felt a bit clueless about what to get. When I reached the make-up
counter, a heavily made-up girl appeared and tried to sell me a Lancôme face
cream set with a limited edition bag – all on the condition that I spent
thirty pounds or more on cosmetics. I shook my head, told her that I wasn’t
interested in face creams, just make-up.