This time, I present myself with some confidence. After all, I have an appointment. To my great excitement, I am ushered past the desks on the gound floor and directed upstairs. Upstairs? It had never occurred to me there as anything other than the Middle Earth space downstairs.
I wait awhile for my appointment and am royally entertained by the young security guard, who considers himself the warm-up act. Wise-cracking, flirting with the female staff and utterly bored, we strike up a conversation about his role as a roaming guard for various JCs. This one, I am assured, is easy-peasy. You don't want to be in Reading though. Apparently. I marvel that he is permitted to sport the rather flamboyant diamond earings in his ears.
My appointment is with Colin*, a gentle man who seems to have seen it all before. Another very empathetic lady processes my paperwork and asks my circumstances. "Redundant, after almost 16 years with the same company". She smiles sadly. "Still in shock?" she asks, and I am startled to find my eyes suddenly stinging with tears. I am clearly more fragile than I had thought.
Colin is calm, efficient and reassuring. He believes I will have 'no problem' finding alternative employment. Really? I wonder what he bases that on? "No offence, but you can speak English" is the answer.
I sign-on 'proper' in ten days time, then every two weeks thereafter.
For how long?
*name has been changed
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