Christmas Lights

by Amelia Andrews

  She arrived at the ActionPlus offices and smiled to herself. She’d worked for a charity back in London, but it had been for the head office of a global not-for-profit. She’d always wanted to work for a charity and she thought she’d hit the perfect position with her previous role.

  What she hadn’t realised was a large, multinational charity operated pretty much like any other business. Her administrative role had her send out letters, performing mail merges, sitting in pointless meetings, and filing.

  Just like any other job.

  ActionPlus was a smaller, local, charity and Millie hoped that she’d be able to get stuck in with some real local issues.

  She entered the reception, introduced herself and was asked to take a seat while her new boss, Christoph, was called.

  Her knee nervously bounced up and down as she waited. She wanted to make a good impression. While she’d desired getting out of London for a while, it was this job that had actually been the catalyst.

  Thankfully, Christoph didn’t leave her waiting for too long. He came bounding into the reception area with a big smile and an outstretched hand.

  “Millie! So lovely to finally meet you,” he greeted, shaking her hand enthusiastically. “Online interviews are great but meeting in person is so important. How are you finding Bromford?”

  “Brilliant,” Millie admitted. “My best friend lives here so it’s great to see her again.”

  “Really? That’s fantastic,” he said. “Come with me, I’ll show you to your desk and introduce you to the team. I’m afraid you may find some dreary faces today, we’re having a little funding issue.”

  “Oh.” Millie felt her blood run cold. Had she really gone from the safety of a large, well-financed charity, to a smaller one that was suffering with financial issues?

  “Nothing to worry about for you,” Christoph quickly reassured. “No, it’s the budget for some of the outreach projects we do. We’re passionate about doing more than just our headline mission statement, you see. But for that, we need funding and the local council is cutting funding for the next financial year. We just found out this morning.”

  Millie couldn’t help but shake her head. “The local council?”

  “Yep, they’ve been cutting funding for… well, pretty much everything, for the last twelve months. We’d hoped that we were immune, but we’re not. Nightingale got us eventually.”

  “Nightingale?” Millie asked, as if she had never heard the name.

  “Kay Nightingale, head of the council. She’s got a bit of a reputation. Squeezing the life out of everything in Bromford.” Christoph continued to smile as he explained, he seemed to be a naturally cheery person. Good for someone who worked in the charity sector.

  “I think my friend mentioned her,” Millie said. “I’m going to the council meeting tonight, she’s supposed to be there?”

  “Oh, in which case, I’ll see you there. I’ve been nominated to go and speak on behalf of ActionPlus, fight our corner. So many people don’t bother going to the meetings anymore, Nightingale just wears people down with political nonsense. She can’t see the bigger picture.”

  “I heard there wasn’t going to be a Christmas tree this year,” Millie commented.

  Christoph laughed. “That’s right, wow, she’s really aiming to make as many enemies as possible before the year is out. Maybe she has a quota to meet?”

  They shared a laugh.

  “Maybe,” Millie agreed. “Well, I’m sorry to hear about the funding cuts, but I want you to know that I’m willing to help wherever I can. I’m happy to do some extra hours, unpaid of course.”

  Christoph paused and looked at her gratefully. “That’s fantastic, thank you, Millie. I can see you’re going to fit in well here. I’ll have to talk to you later about the food bank.”

  “Absolutely, looking forward to it.”

  Chapter 11

  “Are you ready?” Steven asked her. His tone indicated that he thought they were about to walk into battle.

  In some ways, they were.

  Part of her campaign for election had been based upon the certainty that she would run fortnightly council meetings. She would always be visible, approachable, and accountable.

  Kay had never missed a meeting. Enormous snowdrifts, the death of her mother, flu, and cancelled flights had all nearly caused a cancellation, but her work ethic, and her promise to her town, meant they always went ahead.

  “Yes, of course,” she told him. They walked down the corridor towards the large meeting room at the end of the building. It was an ornate space, built originally for weddings and other official ceremonies. That was back in the early 1830s, since then the room had fallen out of use.

  But it was large, had plenty of seating, and a stage where she and her team could sit and field questions.

  “How are we looking, numbers wise?” She asked.

  “About fifty people,” he said. “Anyone with signs or looking to cause trouble has been turned away, but there could still be one or two in there. We’ll remove them as and when we need to. I asked Inspector Leslie for extra officers.”

  “Excellent, please remember to send him a thank you card from my office,” Kay requested.

  Steven made a note. “Also, we have asked the party to get as many supporters as possible to attend, they make up the first four to five rows.”

  “Wonderful, thank you.”

  It wasn’t unusual to face an unsympathetic crowd at these meetings, but in light of the recent protests, and some of the letters sent to her, every caution was being taken.

  She paused outside the doors to the main room, glad that the stage had a separate corridor which she could arrive and leave by in case things got heated. She took a deep breath and then lifted her head, fixed a smile on her face, and entered the room.

  The rest of her team were milling around the table on the stage. She looked at her wrist watch and indicated to them with a nod of the head that it was time to start.

  They took their seats and the attendees in the main room did the same, the murmuring coming to an end.

  Kay picked up the gavel and tapped it lightly on the desk.

  “I call this meeting to order,” she began. She ran through the official wording, stating the date and the time and listing all of the attendees from the council who were attending.

  The minutes would be held in the archive and she was aware of the importance of ensuring that everything was done correctly. As she spoke, she glanced up and looked around the room. As Steven had suggested, the first few rows were filled with friendly, smiling faces.

  Beyond them was a different story.

  There were some of the usual people, the ones who came to every single meeting either to sit and silently stare at her, argue with her, or applaud loudly.

  These were the ones who came to every meeting, the ones she knew by name, and the ones that no matter how bizarrely they acted, caused her no concern. They were the knowns.

  It was the unknowns that worried her more. And today there were about fifteen to twenty of them. They had deep frowns etched on their faces, their arms were folded and they looked hostile and angry.

  It wasn’t unusual to have a few of them, but this was easily three times as many as usual.

  She hoped she could win them over, or at least satisfy them enough get through the evening without major incident.

  When she’d finished her opening speech, a man jumped to his feet. “Nightingale out!” He shouted.

  Security moved quickly to grab him and lead him out.

  “The election is in eight months,” she said calmly. “Although, any candidate will tell you the same, there’s not enough money to go around. Anyway, shall we begin. Thomas? Do you want to read the minutes from the previous meeting?”

  She sat back and allowed her colleague to take over for a while. Her eyes drifted around the audience, wondering what would come next. She hoped that someone would mention the fact that she’d managed to convince the waste disposal
department to not strike over the Christmas period. But probably not. No, people didn’t come to these meetings to congratulate, they came to complain.

  When Thomas wrapped up his piece, Kay took over again and handed the floor to the planning department to talk about the new car park being built. Parking in the town was diabolical and had been an issue for nearly a decade.

  It had taken a while to find the right site, at the right price. Getting permission and funding had been an uphill struggle but they were there. It had pleased the public for a while, but that was a month ago and memories were short.

  And now Christmas had nearly arrived and people’s minds were singularly focused.

  Once all the updates were complete, she opened up the floor to any questions. A few of the party members thrust their hands up and kindly asked easy questions that weren’t controversial. When would the renovations to the swimming pool be complete? Would there be an increase in parking fees in the town centre next year? Could she do something about the local bus company and their lack of punctuality?

  As usual there were a few questions about things that were nothing to do with the council and she redirected them appropriately.

  Just as her guard was going down, a hand popped up on the back row.

  “Yes?” Kay asked, pointing towards the hand.

  A young woman stood up, no older than mid-twenties. She had long brown hair, glasses, and a scowl.

  “I have two questions,” the woman said.

  “By all means, Miss?”

  “Yates. Millie Yates.”

  “Go ahead, Miss Yates,” Kay said.

  “Why has funding been cut for ActionPlus? It’s one of the few charities in Bromford that is actively tackling homelessness, helping to get people off the streets and into temporary accommodation. Not to mention the work they do with poverty in the area, their assistance with the food bank is entirely voluntary through staff and is at risk. The cuts are going to have a huge knock-on effect, are you aware of that? And do you even care?”

  Kay licked her lips and sat up straight. “I do care, very much. Which is why I have increased charity spending on the whole by twenty-two percent since I came into office. The funding cut you are referring to is actually the end of a four-part payment that was agreed two years ago, to be paid twice a year over those two years. The funding has not been cut, it has been completed. It was made very clear to ActionPlus when they were first awarded the cash that it was a temporary situation and not to rely on it.”

  “Do you know we have one of the highest rates of homelessness for a town of our size in the entire country?” Millie Yates continued, not missing a beat.

  “I am acutely aware of that. Which is why we have allocated a two and a half million pound fund to build a hub which will provide not only housing but also mental health and medical support.”

  “Which won’t be ready for another year,” Millie argued.

  “That is true, the building won’t be complete and ready until next November,” Kay agreed. “However, we do have provision in place for that period.”

  “It’s not enough. The services that ActionPlus provide will be immediately missed by the community, the homeless community in particular, who need our help the most.”

  “The rough sleeper team dealt with 92 cases last year, this year it has increased to 171,” Kay explained. “We know there is still a lot to do, but I assure you that we are doing everything we can. We have opened two extra shelters in the central area to cope with this influx. It is simply not sustainable for the council to continue to fund local charities for these issues, we need to build long-term solutions which, unfortunately, take time to build. But, as I said before, this was not a cut to any funding but the end to an agreed amount.” Kay looked around the room. “Are there any other questions?”

  “I have another question,” Millie spoke up.

  Kay looked at her and tried to mask her sigh. “Go ahead, Miss Yates.”

  “Are you aware how many families in Bromford rely on food banks to survive?”

  “I’m not, but I’m more than happy to have a conversation with you regarding this matter at a later date. The topics you are bringing up aren’t something we can resolve in this meeting.”

  A man stood next to Millie. “Convenient!”

  “Just the truth,” Kay said. “If I could solve all of the issues of Bromford in this meeting, then I would welcome that opportunity. Sadly, it’s impossible. But I’m happy to set up further meetings where I can discuss the many innovative schemes we have set up to tackle poverty in the town.”

  “You can’t silence us,” Millie said.

  Kay shook her head, there would be no getting through to the woman or her friend. She pointed to another person in the audience who had earlier had their hand up.

  “Did you have a question?” She asked, hoping to change the subject.

  He nervously stood, looking back at Millie and then towards Kay, wondering if they were done.

  “Go ahead,” she encouraged.

  “It’s about the drains on West Street,” he said.

  “What about them?” Kay asked, smiling. She’d happily talk about drains if it meant not having to continue talking about ActionPlus.

  She’d worked hard to provide them with a temporary funding package and they assured her that they would not become reliant on the extra income.

  But, unsurprisingly, they had.

  And now they were going to complain to her, and accuse her of cutting their budget. Quite forgetting that without her, they would have never had the extra money to begin with.

  Chapter 12

  It became obvious to Millie that Kay Nightingale wasn’t going to answer her questions. No matter how often she stuck her hand in the air, it seemed that she’d had her fifteen minutes of fame and that was the end of it.

  When one of the, obvious, plants in the front row asked a question that allowed Kay to speak about her plans for financing school libraries, Millie had enough.

  She turned to Christoph and shook her head in annoyance. He agreed and indicated the exit with his thumb. They both got up and left, not caring about the noise the door made as it creaked open when they exited the room.

  They walked along the corridor towards the main exit.

  “So, now you’ve met her, what do you think?” Christoph asked.

  “Typical politician,” Millie said. “Lots of words, no action. Doesn’t care in the slightest.”

  “You see why people have given up coming here,” he said.

  They stepped outside into the cold and Millie did up her coat. Christoph nodded his head in the opposite direction to where she was heading. “I’m off to the bus station, you?”

  “Oh, I walk, I’m just around the corner.”

  “I could walk you home?” He offered.

  Millie chuckled. “Thanks but I’m fine, it’s literally a five minute walk and it’s well-lit. Thank you though.”

  “Thank you,” he said. “I hope you enjoyed your first day working with us, I can tell you’ll make a great addition to the team.”

  “I loved it,” Millie confessed. The team had been great, the work easy and yet so fulfilling. She could really see herself making a career and a lot of friends at ActionPlus.

  “Great, so I’ll see you in the morning then?” He asked, half joking.

  “You definitely will,” she confirmed.

  They said their farewells and Millie turned and walked around the Town Hall towards one of the roads she needed to take to get home. She’d had a great day at work but now she was super frustrated with Kay Nightingale and her attitude.

  Picking over issues about funding like that was ridiculous. Of course the charity was going to miss the funds, what kind of council makes a large payment in four segments and then expects a charity to be able to operate on the far lower amount?

  And the stooges at the front of the audience were so obvious. Probably all personal friends of Nightingale, brought in to say a good word,
ask a few pre-decided questions, and make her look good.

  As if Millie was stupid enough to fall for it.

  She was so wound up that she almost didn’t notice that the metal gate to the parking area around the back of the building was open. There, under the glow of a nearby streetlamp, was Kay’s car.

  A Mercedes, of course. Millie rolled her eyes.

  She decided there and then that the evening wasn’t over and she would have her say. Kay Nightingale would listen to what Millie Yates had to say, whether she liked it or not.

  She marched over to the black car and stood beside it and waited. While she waited, she thought of all the things she wanted to say. Facts and figures she wanted to explain, questions she wanted to ask, explanations she would demand. She performed a couple of searches on her phone to arm herself with as much data as possible.

  It was forty-five minutes later when the back door to the building finally creaked open.

  Kay Nightingale took one look at Millie and sighed.

  “Miss Yates,” she greeted. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

  “You didn’t answer all my questions,” Millie said. She folded her arms and glared at Kay as she approached the car.

  “This is neither the time nor the place, Miss Yates.”

  “I’m sorry, should I have made an appointment? Do the homeless people in the town have to make an appointment? The mothers who can’t feed their children?”

  “My door is open to anyone. During office hours. And preferably not in the car park.”

  Kay unlocked the car and manoeuvred around Millie to open the passenger door and put her bag into the car. Millie caught a whiff of expensive perfume. She hated herself for noticing, but Kay was extremely attractive and very well dressed and turned out. Typical for an alpha bitch with money. It just so happened that Millie found that kind of woman attractive, even if right then she’d really rather not.

  “As if you would let any of them in the main entrance,” Millie argued. “People like you just don’t care.”

  Kay slammed the car door and stalked around to the driver’s door.