Tyler caught her eye and raised his eyebrows and lifted his chin in greeting without missing a beat of his call. Tyler, who wore a shirt and tie even though there was no formal requirement to do so. Tyler, who kept pens in his top pocket for just in case and jumped to life when a call came in. Tyler, whose stats were impressive, the highest customer satisfaction score, the most calls taken and the winner of every bonus and incentive going. To her certain knowledge he had enjoyed a golfing weekend, a giant Easter egg, and a couples massage at the local sports centre. He was what Tony would have described asa right keenerback in the day. This thought alone was enough to make her smile and dilute the irritation of Graham’s lingering presence. It was some small comfort that even though her lovely friend was on the other side of the world, he could still lift her mood. It was nice to think back to those days, when she and Tony had danced and laughed and sung until their throats were hoarse. Before that night.
Oi!Still she heard this call at the most random of times, and still it was a gunshot and about as terrifying. That night when she had known the true meaning of fear, the very worst of times, and the very best too, because she had met Midge.
She wished Tyler would stop shouting. Yet to take a call, his energy made her somehow weary.
‘Now let’s see what we can do aboutthat, Mrs Williams!’ He grinned.
He wassoloud, almost as if this job were a performance and he was desperate to guarantee that even those in the cheap seats at the back could hear every word. She liked to study him over the privacy board that offered none. It sat between the two rows of facing desks like the Berlin Wall, only it was thinner, smaller, and upholstered with cheap, grey, hairy fabric.
The call centre operated two shifts, meaning customers could get help or at least vent into a willing ear from eight in the morning until ten at night. She wasn’t sure who occupied her seat when she was off but had arrived one morning eight weeks ago to find a large, wonky penis scrawled on the privacy board. The cleaner had tried to remove it with a soft cloth and detergent but had only succeeding in smudging the balls a little. Despite no doubt tackling the tackle with the very best of intentions, the smudging had somehow made it worse. As if the neat, narrow lines of the phallus might have been ignored, but this distorted, faded, obvious and crude art demanded attention whenever she approached the desk.
‘I would like to apologise, Remy Hughes, for you having to look at that.’ Graham had visibly coloured.
‘Oh, no worries.’ She had smiled, deciding not to share that Midge had a fondness for similar artwork on any icy surface, a snow-covered window, anything steamed up, or if the kids left a pen within three feet of an envelope. ‘It can’t be that hard to find out who drew it, can it? I mean, who was sitting at the desk, or who was sitting next to them? Don’t we have CCTV?’
‘I’m afraid it’s not that straightforward.’ Graham had pushed his glasses up on to his nose. ‘They were agency staff, temps, and I don’t think they’re coming back again. They drew a similar image on the bathroom wall and wrote something unsavoury about Melanie in marketing.’
‘What did they say about Melanie in marketing?’ She was curious. The girl was lovely and wore a short top that showed offthe diamanté dangler in her naval, she laughed at whatever anyone said to her, whether with nerves or in genuine bemusement, it was hard to tell, but she was lovely nonetheless.
‘It wasn’t very nice.’ Graham blushed.
‘What was it?’ Her curiosity knew no bounds.
Graham had sighed and looked to his left and right, as if checking the coast was clear.
‘It said something like, Melanie the minx and her most marvellous melons.’
Remy guessed it was notsomething likebut was in fact entirely accurate in his recollection. The banal, sexist, juvenile wording was obviously disappointing, and yet she was quietly impressed by the half-decent alliteration. It was conflicting.
‘Nothing amusing or clever about reducing a woman to the sum parts of her body.’
Remy had stared at the team leader for her section and given him a warm smile.
‘You’re absolutely right, Graham.’ It was a nice moment when his irritating flaws were diluted by his clear sense of indignance.
Her headset beeped to indicate a call was coming in and her computer screen automatically brightened. She glanced at the timer in the corner of her screen. It popped up automatically when a call was answered and ticked second by second in a grassy-green digital display. The colour chosen presumably to remind her of nature, of life outside this vast square building where the grass grew while she toiled. After three minutes, the green changed to a rather muddy orange and after seven minutes it became bright red, reminding her of failure, of blood, of emergency and the fact that Graham would see a red mist if she couldn’t keep her call times down.
Speedy!
Helpful!
Interested!
Timely!
This was one of Graham’s motivational initiatives that had been plastered all over the kitchenette areas and in the lifts. She had roared her laughter, yet chose not to disclose the unfortunate mnemonic, delighting in seeing it every time she made a scalding cup of tea or waited for her floor. It seemed someone else had chosen not to remain so tight-lipped, as the posters were removed as quickly as they had appeared.
It still made her chuckle to think of it.
‘Good morning. Thank you for calling Castle Care, you are through to Remy. How can I help you today?’
And just like that she was out of the blocks.
Ashleigh
‘Come on, parking fairy!’ Ashleigh banged the leather-covered steering wheel of her shiny Land Rover. ‘Just one measly space! Just one! Please!’
She hated that often the most stressful part of her day was finding somewhere to park her fat-bummed car. Having driven up and down the streets at a snail’s pace, hoping, praying, and doing her best to manifest a spot, she spied a man wearing a red-and-blue striped beanie hat sitting in the driver’s seat of a shiny Mercedes. Whether with the intention of moving or having just arrived, it was impossible to tell. Either way, her heart lifted with joy at the prospect of getting this lucky.
