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‘We’re wasting our time,’ Jeanelle says. ‘I’ll email the script and will expect it to be used as from Monday.’
‘It’s bollocks, come on.’ I look round the table. Nobody says anything. As per bloody usual.
Jeanelle folds her arms. ‘Right. Item 2. Future Funding Opportunities.’
Item 2 sets Jeanelle on ten minutes of SMART Thinking, Income Diversification, Revisiting our USP and no actual substance. I drift into thinking about meeting Karen. Why didn’t she talk to me about Don’s letter, instead of sending it with the birthday card like that?
A pause in Jeanelle’s drone alerts me to her beaming her frosty smile, as if expecting applause.
‘Can I ask what time we’re finishing?’ Charlie looks at the clock. ‘I’m due at Chloe’s school review in forty minutes.’
‘I’m meeting a friend at lunchtime, so I need to go soon as well, really,’ I add.
‘If we can get on with the agenda, I’m sure you’ll both be on time. Now Item 3, Mission Statement.’
‘Before that, can I ask if there’s any news on the contract with the Council for next year?’ I say.
‘I was coming to that in Item 4, General Updates.’ Jeanelle sifts through her papers.
‘It’s a bit relevant to future funding, isn’t it? All this talk of diversification – is our contract secure or not?’ I say.
Silence. Jeanelle leans her head on her hand.
Charlie nods his approval. ‘I think it’s a question we’d all like answering.’
She takes a breath. ‘OK, are we in agreement with bringing this item up the agenda?’
Just the faintest of nods from the others.
‘The latest communication, and I stress, it is only a preliminary briefing to the chief executives of voluntary sector providers of Council contracts, which will form the basis for a consultative document…?’
‘What does it say?’ Charlie emphasises each word.
‘The recommendation is that some of the non-statutory contracts be absorbed within existing Council services. In our case this would be their Equipment and Adaptations service.’ She stops abruptly. Studies her agenda as if it held the meaning of life.
Everyone exchanges glances of disbelief.
‘And you thought you’d drop this on us as General Updates?’ As per usual it’s me saying what everyone else simply thinks.
Jeanelle purses her lips. ‘As I have said, it’s a preliminary. I will keep you informed of any firm proposal. In the meantime, we need to keep positive, so let’s plug on with our revised mission statement.’
I can’t take any more, the blood boiling in my ears. I look at the clock: 12:05, I’ll have to leave if I’m going to make it to see Karen.
‘Pauline suggested Keeping Sheffield Homely. What about anyone else?’
I look up into her sickly smile and feel my fingers clench into a fist. I stand up, pushing the chair back to screech on the laminate.
‘I’m sorry, I’ve really got to go.’
Jeanelle’s grass green eyes widen as she opens her orange lipsticked mouth. I’m out before she has a chance to say anything.
I run down the street, blinded by the harsh sunlight, sweat and hot tears. Fucking bitch, fuck her, fuck them all.
A man’s face in front of me, Arab complexion. Wearing a stripy cotton cap, wire rimmed glasses slightly askew, his hands held up in horror.
‘Sorry.’ I dodge past him. What’s the matter with me, cursing out loud?
I turn the corner towards the cathedral, the café’s just in sight the other side of it. Slow down, catch your breath. Think.
