Three Job Seekers and a Restart Officer (Part Two)

It is at this point I notice that next to the white board, another large pad of paper has been placed, upon which is written, in Pauline�s large, clumsy handwriting: �Pauline�s final thought: Bye bye biro, hello giro.� I actually feel amused by the humour of this strange phrase, and think to myself that it�s the first time I�ve laughed with Pauline rather than at her.

She takes up her overly bright tone again. �Right, well as it�s the last day, I thought we�d play a game I�ve invented called �Shop a Scrounger�...�
She is interrupted by Mickey. �Here, Pauline!� I glance towards him and see he is holding out a clumsily wrapped package towards her. Pauline seems genuinely surprised and touched. �What�s this Mickey?�
�I�ve brung you a present.� The immature tone and content of his phrase makes me smile.
�A present? For me? Why?� The last question is a frank enquiry, not spoken in her usual sarcastic style. Mickey pauses as if seriously considering the question. Eventually he concludes, �Dunno...I think I like you.�
�Aah.� Pauline�s expression of authentic appreciation surprises me. Perhaps she is capable of being almost humane after all. She quickly unwraps the gift and holds the contents of the package in front of her. It resembles a necklace, but instead of a pendant, a pen hangs from the thick string. Pauline is confused. �What is it?�
�It�s a pen!� Mickey states the obvious.
�Well, I can see that but...� Pauline indicates the string with her spare hand. Sighing, Mickey rises from his seat, and makes his way towards her. Taking the strange object from her, he places it round her neck, pausing before he does to say, �Like Swapshop.� After he places the string over her head, he does not draw back. Instead, he continues leaning forward, and places his arms around Pauline in an embrace. Pauline stiffens beneath him, and makes no effort to return the hug. The expression on her face is one of utter disgust, and she rolls her eyes. However, she is obviously touched by Mickey�s thoughtfulness. �Thank you Mickey. I shall treasure this.� Her voice is hushed, with considerable emotion behind it, although which emotion is indeterminable.

As Mickey returns to his seat, Pauline makes a visible effort to regain some of her dignity. She is about to speak when Ross makes his presence known to the room. His accent makes the words seem unlike a question as he says, �Can I have a word with you, Pauline?�
�What is it Ross? What have you brought for me? A lump of poison?� Obviously her reaction to Mickey�s gift is not going to be a long-term personality change. Ross is unperturbed. He continues to speak, and straightens his glasses with his right hand, drawing attention to his clear eyes and long lashes. �No, it�s better than that.�
�Well come on then, spit it out. Don�t be so egregious.� The last part of the sentence is spoken in a smug and scornful tone, and addressed to the whole of the room.
Ross obliges. �All right then, well, I regret to inform you that as of 4pm today you are suspended from the employment service, pending further investigation.�

The whole room looks at Ross in surprise. Slowly, a realisation of his actions over the past week become clear to me. His clever manipulation of Pauline, the secrecy about his previous work and future plans...
�Oh, piss off.� For once, Pauline�s reaction is understandable. Ross holds up a small business card that is conveniently placed on his desk. �I work for the social security Pauline. Internal investigations. I�ve been assessing your working practices over the past few weeks, and frankly I�m appalled.� My pride and admiration for Ross is reiterated. His obvious intelligence and ability to work undercover in situations like this amaze me.
�You what? You, work?� The expression on Pauline�s face is one of utter distaste. Mickey decides to have his input. �You don�t have to come here if you work Ross.� Colin laughs next to me, and I hear various sniggers from around the room. Ross�s only reaction is to leave his seat to stand directly in front of Pauline, taking a large black folder from his desk.
Indicating it, he informs her, �This is all the evidence I need for your instant dismissal and believe me, I�m gonna push for that.�
Pauline looks slightly scared, her mouth parted in disbelief, and her eyes slightly narrowed. �What is it?�
�It�s my report. Use of abusive and threatening language, unprompted violence and physical attacks.� Ross�s descriptions are entirely accurate. But Pauline was determined not to be overcome by someone who, to her, was just a worthless piece of dole scum.
�Oh, sit down Ross. You think I�m gonna fall for that one?� Ross holds up a Dictaphone that I�d not previously noticed. He presses play, and Pauline�s angry voice fills the small room.
�You work shy set of bastards, what�s the point of you trying to work? Sit up straight you bone idle lazy cun...� Ross stops the tape. The irony and perfect timing of his actions seem irresistibly hilarious, and I cannot stifle a giggle. Pauline doesn�t notice, as she is staring in wide-eyed incredulity at the Dictaphone, her fat, pink lips quivering. �What�s that?�
Ross replies immediately. �That was your workshop on self-esteem for the unemployed.� Once again I feel the urgent need to laugh loudly, but someone from the back of the room does it for me.
�Well, it was only a bit of fun.� Pauline is grasping at straws.
�It�s not a joke, Pauline. You�re finished. I shall personally see to it that you never work in the employment service again.� There is a long pause as the reality and harshness of Ross�s words registers in Pauline�s mind. The horrified expression on her face is so intense I almost feel sorry for her. Ross obviously notices it, as he speaks in a more gentle tone. �I�m afraid I�ll have to ask for your pens back.� I slowly realise that this uneccessary request is simply another device to use Pauline�s ludicrous weakness in order to humiliate her.
It appears to work, as her appeal indicates. �No Ross. Leave me me pens. Please?� Pauline�s voice is small and desperate, and I think how sad it must be to have so much pent up emotion for inanimate objects. She gathers the green shoe box marked �Pauline�s Pens� in front of her. Knowing he has hit a weak spot, Ross continues.
�I�m afraid they�re no longer your property.� He reaches out to grab the box, but Pauline grasps it tightly, causing it to tip and its contents to spill onto the floor, underlining the tension in the room in a distinctly dramatic fashion. Pauline instantly drops to her knees and attempts to gather the pens towards her. Ross uses the distraction as his cue to keep talking. �You�ll be hearing from us.� He looks up at the rest of the room. �This course is finished everyone.� He glances round the room, and his eyes catch mine. I give him a smile of encouragement, and he turns to walk out of the door, stepping on and breaking several of the scattered pens as he does so.

But Pauline is not defeated. She shouts to his retreating figure. �Wait, wait, wait.� Ross obliges, turning to face the object of his torment, fringe falling slightly out of place, expression neutral. Pauline regards him from her position on the floor with contempt and new-found determination. �You�ll never get away with this Ross.�
�Why not? All I have to do is file this report.� He holds it up for emphasis.
�I�m not talking about your report. I wouldn�t wipe me big fat arse on it.�
Ross opens his mouth in distaste. �What then?�
�You�ve been working and signing on, and that, job seekers, is a crime. We lose millions a year to people like Ross.� Pauline has plainly lost the argument. The rest of the gents leave their seats and exit the room in single file, each taking great joy in smashing the littered pens underfoot. Transfixed by the drama, I remain in my seat. Pauline is hopelessly talking to the departing figures. �If you do any part-time work you have to declare it. Well, don�t you see gents? He�s nothing but a...but a dole cheat.�

By the end of her gibbering speech, their are only four of us remaining in the room. Ross, Pauline, Mickey and I. Ross is not offended by Pauline�s words. �Maybe. But I�m not unemployed.� His accent emphasises the middle of the word, and makes it sound appealingly tuneful.
Pauline�s desperate hunched figure finally seems to realise its fate. �What?� Her voice is soft and quiet, almost inaudible.
�I�m not unemployed. You are.� With that smooth statement of utter control and authority, Ross leaves the room. Unthinkingly, I get to my feet to follow him, eager to express my pride and admiration on the events that just occurred, and to ensure my last car journey to his home. I exit the room, leaving Mickey alone with Pauline.

Ross has not got far down the long hallway when I catch up with him. I put my hand on his shoulder, and he turns easily, expression unreadable. �That was amazing,� I say, slightly breathless from running after him down the corridor. He smiles naturally, but with no hint of egoism.
�Thanks. I�m sorry I couldn�t tell you.�
�Oh, don�t worry about that! The important thing is that you put that bitch in her place!�
He grins and nods in agreement. �Revenge is sweet!� The pronunciation of the last �T� emphasises the positivity of the word.
�D�you want a lift home? I mean, it�s a bit early, we could go out for lunch or something? You know, celebrate?� I am amazed at my confidence, particularly seeing as the idea hadn�t even occurred to me before I said it. I picture my husband at home, but the image is gone almost instantly.
�Yeah, that�d be nice. Oh, damn.�
�What?�
�Oh, I left some papers and stuff in there, I�ll have to go back.�
�Oh no, and spoil your dramatic exit!�
�I know! Never mind, can�t be helped.� He turns quickly and walks back the way he came, leaving me to contemplate our proposed lunch. I am going out to lunch with Ross. Ross...? I don�t even know his surname. But I do know that I want to get to know him better, and at the moment, David is the farthest thing from my mind.

As I wait patiently for Ross�s return, a strange sound hits me from down the corridor. It sounds like someone screaming in pain. In fact, it sounds like Ross screaming in pain. I turn and run down the corridor, back to the small classroom. Peering in through the doorway, I am unable to believe the scene in front of me as I see Pauline straddled over Ross who has been forced to sit one of the trashy plastic chairs, and she appears to be attacking him with cellotape. Ross is grunting in pain, occasionally shouting phrases like, �Get off me, what do you think you�re doing?�. His fringe has fallen so far down his face that it is almost straight, and his glasses have slid to the centre of his nose. There are new scratches on his face as well as the old one still visible from Monday�s escapade. His vulnerability triggers a strong sexual feeling inside me, which I brush away with guilt as I realise the amount of pain he must be in. Without thinking, I fling the door wide.

�Ross!� He looks up, relieved expression entering his eyes. But there is a sudden physical weight on my shoulders, and I fall to the floor, stunned and shocked. I manage to turn my head just enough to see Mickey�s monkey-like face leering at me, his surprisingly strong arms pinning me down, counteracting my struggling.
Pauline speaks urgently, but not without a smug intonation of voice. �Get her in that chair, Mickey love.� She gestures to the nearest piece of plastic crap and places it behind Ross. Mickey drags me over to it with such force I am unable to fight back. He grabs my neck and forces me to look upwards into Pauline�s unattractive face. She says nothing, simply extends a string of cellotape in front of my face in a failed attempt at menace. Unable to believe that I am going to be beaten by a sacked restart officer, a would-be fireman with a mental age of eight and a roll of something usually used to fasten paper together, and incessantly unsure of the reason for my undoubted fate, I begin to laugh. This apparently upsets Pauline, who informs me, angrily, �Oh, Dawn, this is no laughing matter.�

Cellotape is surprisingly robust. With my hands attached to the leg of my chair (in itself attached to Ross�s), I am literally unable to move. My vista is highly unpleasant, consisting of Pauline�s conceited, self-righteous expression accompanied by her constant verbalisation of her thoughts. Only one threat actually scares me, and she says it again and again, slowly and deliberately. �The two of you are going to be here for a very long time.�