Chapter 7

SEVEN

In IT, we probably see much more of this building than others as we traipse through departments, mainly putting up passive aggressive signs telling people to stop turning off the printers at the mains and to update their passwords. One thing that's clear: all the other supervisors in this building have not had to invest their own time and money in making their departments look festive and seasonal. There's a theme running from floor to floor of sleek golden trees, draped in tinsel and lights. Garlands festoon the coffee machines and water coolers, and in every kitchenette space, there are bouquets of candy canes. In the background, there's a faint sound of Christmas elevator music played on panpipes. I can even smell cinnamon. How are they siphoning that scent in?

As I approach HR, there's a different vibe to us in every way. Our desks downstairs are strewn with operating manuals, parts of computers and in Frank's case, a whole set of Funko Pop! figurines of every member of the Guardians of the Galaxy . Here it's a straighter vibe of family photos and useful things like desk calendars and working pens. That said, the majority of the desks here also look abandoned; there's one intern in the corner with his headphones in who looks like he's being left to pick up the work dregs, but that's it. I look around and see that no one has turned off their monitors properly and someone has also put their computer to sleep. I now decree that they are now blacklisted in IT.

‘Maggie?' Jan pokes her head out from her small office. She's accessorised her charcoal trouser suit with a Santa hat and holly earrings. She looks me up and down. There's always a more casual vibe in IT that allows for trainers because we have to move around the building, crawl under desks and haul heavy equipment around. I do wonder, though, if she thinks my LET IT SNOW! Christmas jumper relates to my hopes for the weather or a secret cocaine habit. I'm glad I took my antlers off before I came up here.

‘Jan. How are you? Nice earrings.'

She flicks them with her fingers. ‘Just a little something to get in the spirit,' she tells me, still judging my outfit and how the Christmas spirit seems to have consumed me fully. ‘I'm good. I'm glad you're still around actually, everyone else seems to have scarpered.'

I won't tell her I let my department leave early as, unless she ventures down to the basement, she'll never know. ‘Oh well, you know. I want to ensure everything is shut down properly before I leave.'

‘Any plans for Christmas?' she asks me.

I'm not sure there's an easy way to tell her about what I have planned for my Christmas week without it sounding overly complicated. I've been adopted by my department because I'm a sad Christmas orphan. ‘Oh, you know, spending time with family. You?'

‘Family and then off to New York. Can't wait.'

I force a smile. Such is the difference in our supervisor wages. She leads me into her office, offering me a seat behind her desk. I know Jan is grown up as she has a plant in her office, a coaster set for her hot beverages and a framed print on the wall telling me Build Your People and Your People Will Build Your Business. We have a poster of Keanu Reeves from The Matrix, saying It's All Just a Glitch .

‘I didn't see you at the Christmas party the other week?' she says, taking a seat in her fancy ergonomic chair.

‘Oh, IT weren't invited,' I tell her plainly. ‘We did our own thing.'

‘Well, that is an oversight. How awful! Let me remedy that for next year,' she replies, though I sense she doesn't quite mean it. ‘You missed a great party. Such a wonderful lunch. I made a complete fool of myself in karaoke.'

I know this because I saw the videos, the social media posts, the photos that showed everyone looking Oscar-worthy and dolled up to the nines. There was a vodka luge, teeny tiny canapés and a snow machine. Do you know what I'd have to do to have a snow machine in IT? I'd have to cut up all the paper from the shredder and make it fly through the air with a vacuum cleaner.

‘So what did you guys get up to in IT?'

‘We had a jazz brunch…on a boat…' I say, trying to give our Christmas outing a sense of grandeur beyond chips and dips and Jasper throwing up in a hedge.

‘Superb. Please make yourself comfortable while I get my documents up.'

I take an unusually upright stance, legs together and hands in my lap. HR can call you in for a number of reasons. Sometimes it's to start an annual review. One time I got called in here to give a witness statement because they suspected someone in accounts was stealing loo rolls. Please let this be a meeting about loo rolls.

‘Will this take long?' I ask tentatively.

She shakes her head and I look around the room. I guess the other difference between us is that she gets an office. It's the size of a decent stationery cupboard, but she gets privacy and a perceived sense of importance. I look around as she clicks on her computer, frowning. She'd be able to access all that information easier if she put it in a folder, but I don't think now's the time to offer that helpful suggestion.

‘So, I am so glad we could fit this meeting in before the break and sorry for the last-minute nature of it, but I thought the break would be a suitable time for you to digest the news.'

News? Is this good news or bad news? I might be relatively new to my supervisor role but it's something I enjoy and think I'm pretty good at. I hand in all my paperwork on time, I'm rarely sick and take a very serious attitude towards health and safety. I also recently bought the tiniest of flats and now have a mortgage to pay. I've put gifts on a credit card.

Jan sees the panic in my eyes and laughs, a little callously. ‘Oh, don't worry. We like you. You do an excellent job and we only receive good feedback from other departments. But you were at the meeting last week, yes? The one with all the fellow supervisors?'

I nod. There are ten supervisors in the building and when we meet, platters of sandwiches always appear and white teacups with matching saucers. I always wait until everyone has gone and steal the leftovers for the department. Jasper's mood is greatly improved by egg and cress.

‘Well, what finance were talking about wasn't a joke. With increased operational fees, we've really had to look at the budget and think about ways in which we can cut back.'

I sit there, very still, thinking about how this really affects me. I literally live in the basement of this building. Are they going to cut our heat? Leo might cope as he has Northern blood in his veins but Frank and Jasper won't survive. I funded our Christmas do, I carried a Christmas tree on the Tube to decorate our office. I try not to let my frustrations show, though they're simmering under the surface .

‘And this has meant we really need to consider some staff redundancies. Every department will be affected. In your case, we are asking you to think about letting go one member of your team.'

I knew the words were coming but I had hoped she was going to say something different. Anger is suddenly replaced by a whole range of emotions, but mostly sadness that this is what's being presented to me, right before Christmas. A Christmas where I'll be spending so much time with these men. It feels cruel, so very cruel.

‘Really?'

‘Needs must. I'm having to have difficult conversations with a lot of departments so please don't take this personally.'

I don't think there's any other way I can take this. I sit there quietly trying to take it all in.

‘So, I have their personnel records here. The obvious choice is Leo Golding. He's our most recent hire, classic last one in, first one out,' she says, cutting straight to the point without even giving me time to fully comprehend what I've been asked to do.

I shake my head, panicked. Never Leo. I'm shocked at my own response, but maybe it's not surprising given how much closer we seem to have grown in the last month. To have to do that would be completely gutting. Plus he dilutes the geek quota in the room. Hiring him was one of my first jobs and it showed me, at least, that I knew what I was doing. ‘Leo is my people person. And essentially the most qualified of the three of them. He's got the most up-to-date certifications in information systems security, he's been instrumental in helping us incorporate AI into how we operate,' I say as decisively as I can.

She types notes on her keyboard and I arch my neck around to try and see what she's doing.

‘Well, if not him then how about Francis San?' she says scrolling down on her computer. ‘He's been here the longest. I'll be honest, there's quite a bit missing here in terms of his CPD. He swerves us every time we try and talk to him about that. One could argue he's stagnating in his role? Maybe he needs a different challenge?'

‘His name is Frank,' I say curtly, annoyed by her detached business speak. She's in HR, I get it, but none of this feels very human. ‘He has a masters in computer science, amongst the top 1 per cent of his graduating year, a genius at coding. He's just very happy in his existing role, doesn't really want for much more.'

She continues to type her notes. I can't do that to Frank. This job is his life, he'd be completely lost. I'd have to send him out into the world again to meet people and he'd crumble.

‘Then it's Jasper Westwood-Knights…That is a very posh name,' she comments, almost a little too judgementally. She scrolls down on her computer. ‘I won't lie. There are a few complaints here on his file. I have reports of him being combative, rude, a bit unfriendly. Is he the one they all call The Grinch?'

I don't reply to that. ‘But those complaints were all sorted at the time, definitely when he was under my supervision. He does get frustrated at times but IT can be a thankless task. It's basically us telling people to switch their computers on and off again,' I try and joke, hoping I haven't undermined the very nature of our roles. It is true though. I'd say that instruction makes up at least 90 per cent of my in-house work calls.

‘It says here he once told someone in accounts that she had ugly hair,' she reads verbatim from the screen.

‘No, he didn't. We were called to accounts as someone had disconnected a modem to plug in their hair straighteners and Jasper told her she needn't have bothered,' I say slowly.

‘Which you could argue is mildly offensive?' Jan adds.

‘I think what Jasper was hinting at was that she didn't need to straighten her hair at work, it looked fine as it was…Maybe?' I say, gulping, trying to cover his tracks. ‘And I'd also argue she wa s trying to cover her own back for her own incompetence. I don't think it's appropriate to bring appliances to work that haven't undergone the appropriate electrical checks.' I try and argue my points but even I know I'm grabbing at straws when it comes to Jasper. He's a grumpy bastard, but I think that adds charm. While we sometimes are far too polite, I quite like how direct he is with people.

I lean forward in my seat, fiercely defensive of my team and what all three of them offer to my department. ‘If you want to know why our server room is so organised then that's all Jasper. I'd credit the efficiency of all our systems to him. Look at our output and how few incidents we have due to failed technologies and software.'

Jan hears a slight shake in my voice and for her moment her eyes soften, as if slightly surprised that I would know so much about the people in my department. I guess since coming into this job at a more elevated standing, and as a woman, I wanted to prove to myself that I could lead this team. I went into that sad basement with its inflatable sofa and I turned things around. I nurtured them, I looked after them. They're my friends.

‘Look, this is the hardest part of my job and any supervisory role. We need to make tough business decisions and think about the company as a whole. It's one job as opposed to two hundred,' she tells me.

‘But…But…' I say, struggling to get the words out.

‘But it's IT. You can't swing a cat around London without someone looking for an IT technician or engineer. They'll land on their feet. We will offer good references and a very substantial redundancy package,' she continues, pushing a file towards me, to take with me. Some Christmas gift, Jan. I'd have preferred soaps but here we are. I look down at the papers in front of me.

‘You don't need to decide now. I've put you on the spot, but I wanted to implant the idea in your head so you can think about it more over Christmas. I will look at my emails from time to time so run any ideas past me or when we come back.'

‘So the thirtieth?' I ask her.

‘Oh no, I'll be in New York,' she says, reminding me. ‘We need a decision by the second.'

Great. So while she's taking bad selfies on the Empire State Building, I basically have two weeks to torture myself with this information and make an impossible decision. I suddenly feel the overwhelming urge to get downstairs and download a virus on to Jan's computer. I pick up the redundancy papers in front of me. ‘The second of January then,' I say, awkwardly standing up to leave the room. ‘Can I just say something?' I ask, unable to help myself. ‘I apologise if it's out of turn, but that Christmas lunch with the three courses and the red-carpet treatment, the fireworks, bells and whistles. If the company is struggling so much then why put that on?'

Jan scrunches her face to hear me challenge what this all means. ‘Not my department, I'm afraid. My guess would be morale. Perhaps they thought a party would soften the blow of any bad news?'

‘Except we weren't invited to that party,' I tell her, trying to not let the anger hit my tone. I pause quietly, clutching on to that file. ‘Have a good Christmas, Jan. Don't forget to shut down your computer fully before you go, please.'

She nods. ‘Merry Christmas to you too, Maggie. I said there were doughnuts, there are some festive Krispy Kremes on the table outside. Do help yourself.'

I nod, leaving the room, almost close to tears. How unfair to do this now. At Christmas. I feel such anger and irritation at the injustice of it all. I saw one of the Wisemans on a yacht the other day on Instagram. The closest I've been to a boat is a pedalo at the beach. Sell the yacht. You could have had fewer fireworks, fewer fancy trees in every corridor of this place, you could have served people crisps at your party as opposed to tiny blinis with smoked fish…

I can't do it. I'm not going to choose between my friends. I'll refuse to do it. No one comes to that basement anyway so they'll never know. I stand outside Jan's office, hovering, wondering whether to storm back in there and make an impassioned stand for myself and my colleagues. The intern in the corner sits there and I glance at his screen. If you want to talk about staff we don't need, he's playing Solitaire.

I think of my three workmates and I feel completely numb. Do I tell them? Do we make this decision as a group? Draw names out of a hat? I'm going to be spending Christmas now with each and every one of them harbouring this information. I won't cope.

I don't know what to do at all, so I follow the only impulse which is clear to me in that moment. I pick up the entire box of twelve elf-themed doughnuts and jog to the lifts. You're coming home with me.