The Office Party

Part 3

While sharing Sandra's enthusiasm for the upcoming gig, I'm keeping an eye on Diana too. Truth be told, I'm slightly pissed off. Not because she's keeping me from my plans, far from it. I'm one of the few people who usually bothers to work until the office closes, particularly on Fridays. But this meeting was only called a few hours earlier, so I haven't dressed for it and have had very little time to prepare for how to deal with it. My skirt and top are boring in the extreme, I've come out without my emergency make-up because I picked up the wrong handbag when leaving the house, and my hair is a fucking disaster. Worst of all, my body has descended to its lowest monthly ebb and I know for a fact that I have a spot on my nose, a spot on my forehead, and another two on my chin. I try to ignore the dull ache inside.

Diana comes back and takes her seat at the meeting table in the corner of her office. I'm in a seat on the side, at right angles to her, and I see her eyes slide down me casually as she settles into her chair. I cross my legs self-consciously. 'Where's this band on, then?' she asks Sandra. 'Haven't been to a band in a pub for ages. Not since I was about your age.' She nods at me. I meet her gaze with a dull blink, and watch the smile die on her lips. Shame, because it was a nice smile, and looked genuine. Oh well, I'm not in the mood.

Sandra tells her a little about the band. I smile and nod when I need to, but mainly I keep quiet and tug ineffectually at the hem of my skirt over my crossed legs. And generally wallow in feeling crap, while hoping that everyone - but particularly Diana - will ignore me. Roger joins us finally, and Diana calls the meeting to order.

Fat chance of sitting there quietly and letting them get on with it. I soon find that the room's attention is definitely on me, and Roger is beaming at me in expectation of me doing my thing, turning the numbers we both love into generally intelligible English. Sandra looks unconcerned, biro poised above her pad waiting for my words of wisdom. It's her job to take notes, she doesn't care what the import is, as long as it's a true record. Michelle, for once, looks attentive, as if I might be able to teach her something. Diana sits back carefully and clasps her hands on her tummy as she crosses her legs.

I sigh and turn my body towards Diana, crossing my legs and hooking my foot around the leg of the table. I know it's for her benefit mainly, that we're going over these figures again. Even if I look rubbish and feel rubbish and am generally rubbish, I suppose I should make the effort to help her out in her difficult job. I rub my eyes, take a deep breath and get stuck in

In previous meetings, she's cut in with difficult (but oh so very pertinent) questions. Today is no exception, but given my state of mind I for once take it very personally. At the same time as being aware that I really shouldn't. I deal with her as best I can, coldly and efficiently, but inside - when I need it least - I am seething. I leave the meeting feeling drained and beaten.

*** 

After the meeting, I hover at Michelle's desk, while she gets her stuff together. I'm trying to put off going back to my desk in what will be a virtually deserted department downstairs. Michelle is quite cheerful.

'If we still had your list, Fi, we could so cross off a few things today. What is this effect you have on her?'

I shrug non-committally. 'You mean, completely demolishing me in front of you all? Today of all days?'

She knows me well and knows what I can be like when it's a bad time. She hits me playfully on the arm. 'Yeah, babes. That, for sure. Go and find some chocolate.' She turns the punch into a friendly stroke. 'It's not that bad, really.' She nudges me off her desk gently and we start to walk to the stairs together. 'You know it wasn't that bad, Fi. Come on, eh?'

I am grateful for Michelle's friendship. We pause on the stairs, and she brings the subject of Diana up again. 'But, seriously, the actually listening to you because you are the only one who knows what they're talking about? That's a good thing, Fi. Yeah? She virtually never looks at people the way she looks at you. She might hide it well, granted, but when you're in full flow, it's like she's fascinated by you.'