'I suggest you go and speak to your superiors and find someone who's prepared to take responsibility for this shoddy mess and come and sort it out. I was forced to park at Leftbank Place because of this council's inefficiencies. I have a son who has a medical condition and I needed to get him to the toilet urgently. If the council had done their job properly in the first place and had made sure the public toilets were in full working order then I wouldn't have been parked there, I wouldn't have been clamped and I wouldn't be stood here now talking to someone who clearly can't or won't do anything to help me. I need to speak to someone who's a little higher up the chain of command than the receptionist so why don't you do us both a favour and go and find someone who is actually prepared to do something before my son needs to use the toilet again.'
Patronising bitch. I stand and stare at her, feeling myself getting angrier and angrier. But there's nothing I can do…
'Well?' she snaps.
'Just give me a minute, madam,' I stammer. I turn and storm back into the office and walk straight into Tina coming the other way.
'What are you doing in here, Danny?' she asks, her tone of voice as patronising as the woman outside. 'If you're in here, who's manning Reception?'
She knows full well there's no-one out there. I try and explain but I know it's pointless.
'I've got a lady out in Reception who…'
'You should have telephoned through if you needed help,' she interrupts. 'You know the rules, you've been here long enough now. There should always be someone at the Reception desk and you should always telephone through if you have a problem.'
'There is someone at the Reception desk,' I sigh, 'and she's having a real go at me so can I tell you what her problem is please?'
She looks up at the clock. Damn, it's gone five. I'll probably be stuck at the station until six now.
'Make it quick,' she sneers, making it sound as if she's doing me a favour.
'This lady has been clamped because she parked at Leftbank Place…'
'Tough! You can't park at Leftbank Place. There are bloody big signs up everywhere telling you not to park at Leftbank Place.'
This isn't getting any easier.
'I know that, you know that and she knows that. That's not the issue.'
'What do you mean, that's not the issue?'
I pause before speaking again. I know I'm going to have a battle convincing Tina that this lady has a genuine case. For a moment I consider giving up and taking my chances outside in Reception again.
'This lady tells me she parked at Leftbank Place because she needed to take her son to the toilet.'
'What kind of an excuse is that?'
'She needed to take him to the toilet because he has a medical condition and because the public toilets in Millennium Square have been vandalised.'
'That's not our problem…'
'No, but her argument is that it is the council's problem. She's demanding we get the clamp removed. Won't go anywhere until it's done.'
'She can't go anywhere,' Tina laughs to herself. 'We'll get the clamp removed when she pays the fine.'
I'm not surprised by her response, just disappointed. I want to go home. I don't want to go out there and get yelled at again. What annoys me most of all it that we both know the longer this lady stands her ground and makes a noise in Reception, the more chance there is that the clamp will be removed. I can't stand all this bullshit and pretence. I can't help but say something.
'Come on, Tina, give me a break. You know as well as I do that if she shouts long enough we'll let her off.'
She looks at me, chews her gum and shrugs her shoulders.
'That's as maybe, but we have to try and take the fee from the client first. You know the procedure. We have to…'
There's no point listening to any more of this rubbish. I can't be bothered.
'I know the bloody procedure,' I sigh as I turn my back on her and trudge back towards Reception. I wonder whether I should just keep going? Should I walk straight past the woman and her kids and just leave the building and the job behind?
I open the door and she turns round to glare at me. The expression on her face is pure evil.
'Well?'
I take a deep breath.
'I've had a word with my supervisor,' I begin dejectedly, knowing what's coming next. 'We can get the clamp removed, but we must insist on payment of the charge indicated on the signs displayed at Leftbank Place. We can't…'
And she's off. She explodes again, shouting and yelling at me. The force, velocity and ferocity of her outburst is remarkable. It's an incredible (but not at all unexpected) rant and I have no defence. I can't argue because I happen to think she has a valid case. If she'd just shut up for a second I might be able to… oh, what's the use? I don't know why I bother. The more she shouts at me the less I'm inclined to listen. I've given up trying to follow what she's saying now. Her words have just become a constant stream of noise. I'll wait for her to take a breath.
'Madam,' I interrupt quickly as she pauses to inhale. I hold my hand up in front of me to make it clear that it's my turn to speak. 'I'll go and get my supervisor.'
I walk away, ignoring the muttered comments I can hear about 'speaking to the organ grinder, not the monkey.' I'm long past caring. As I reach for the office door Tina pulls it open from the other side and barges past me. She stops just long enough to hiss a few venomous words in my direction.
'Well handled,' she sneers sarcastically. 'You're bloody useless, you are. I could hear her shouting from my desk. Now what's her name?'
'Don't know,' I admit, cringing at the fact that I haven't even managed to establish the most basic of details.
'Bloody useless,' she sneers again before fixing a false smile on her foul face and marching over to the bedraggled woman and her children. 'My name's Tina Murray,' she says, 'how can I help you?'
I lean against the office door and watch the predictable charade being played out. Tina listens to the complaint, points out to the lady that she really shouldn't have been parked at Leftbank Place, then makes a phone call to 'see what she can do.' Ten minutes later and the clamp is removed. Tina looks fantastic and I look like an idiot. I knew it would happen like that.
Five thirty-two.
I run to the station and reach the platform just in time to see the next train leave.
3
The one slight advantage of leaving the office late tonight was that, for once, I was able to get a seat on the train home. It's usually packed and I'm left standing in-between carriages, surrounded by other equally pissed- off travellers. I needed the space to help me relax and calm down tonight. While I was waiting on the platform I decided I should spend the journey home trying to work out what it is I actually want to do with my life and how I'm going to go about making it happen. I have similar useless discussions with myself on the way home at least once or twice every week. I was too tired to concentrate tonight. There were two girls sitting opposite me and their conversation about clothes, soap operas and who'd done what with whose boyfriend was far more interesting than anything I was thinking about.
February. I hate this time of year. It's cold, wet and depressing. It's dark when I leave the house in the morning and it's dark when I get home at night. This time tomorrow, I keep reminding myself, it will be the weekend. Two days without work. I can't wait.
I drag myself up the hill and around the corner into Calder Grove and I can finally see our home at the end
