An Ordinary Working Man

by Gillian Ferry

  “Sue Bailey,” a voice called, it was time to jump through hoops.

  There now existed between her and Lauren a sort of wary truce, Sue had come to realise that her adviser was making the situation as easy for her as possible; she’d heard enough horror stories from others to know Lauren could demand a lot more from her than she did, and for that Sue was extremely grateful.

  “Hi, are you okay?” Lauren asked, genuine concern in her eyes, from which Sue concluded she must indeed look as rough as she felt.

  “I’m just tired, sore, the usual. How are you? Is your daughter enjoying her course?”

  Lauren’s daughter had just begun a college course with a view to becoming a teaching assistant. Her son was a year away from his GCSEs and as far as Sue was aware, Lauren was a lone parent; she’d certainly never mentioned a partner and Sue hadn’t pried.

  “Yes, well, the first few weeks anyway. She’s waiting to hear which school she’ll be in after half term.”

  Sue smiled. “Straight into the lion’s den, she’ll love it I’m sure.”

  “Yes, I think so, she’s always wanted to work in a primary school, or a nursery, she’s not bothered which.”

  “Would she rather help with the younger ones?”

  “At the moment, anyway, have you got your diary?” Lauren asked.

  “Yep,” Sue began rooting around in her bag as she spoke until she finally pulled the document free from shopping receipts, lists and all number of other things paper.

  “How’s the job hunting going?” Lauren asked as she scoured and then signed Sue’s diary. Sue always felt a great rush of relief at that point, the damn thing had been signed, she was okay for another fortnight.

  “Well, it’s going,” she replied.

  “Do you get many replies?”

  “Just the usual e-mails bounced back saying thank you for your application, nothing beyond that. But, I have thought of something that could be a really good second career for me,” Sue started to feel oddly nervous as she spoke, as if putting the thought into words made it real, no turning back.

  “Oh that’s good, what is it?” Lauren asked.

  “Well, I’m thinking of retraining to become a bookkeeper, then I can become self-employed, chose my own hours. It’s not like I’d be working away to make millions, just enough to get by.”

  “Great idea,” Lauren gave a nod of support as she spoke.

  “The thing is, I can’t afford to pay the course fees and I was wondering if you knew of any funding that would be available to me?”

  Lauren frowned as she replied. “I’m not really sure to be honest. There is money available, but it wouldn’t be applicable in your case; it’s set aside for those in an existing trade who want to move up in their field. It involves me putting a proposal together, and presenting it to a board, but yours would be a complete change in career.”

  “So, if I wanted to train to become a super teacher I’d be okay, but because I’m trying to find a new career, something that I can actually do, there’s no help for me?” Sue tried to keep the irritation out of her voice as she spoke, it wasn’t Laurens fault after all. She was just the representative of the DWP, and their policy was always to wave the stick at claimants but never to offer a carrot. Every correspondence from the DWP came with a warning, if you do not do as we say, we may stop your benefits, but it offered neither hope nor encouragement for jobseekers.

  “Some colleges do offer the courses for free if you’re in receipt of certain benefits, I can have a look at Meadow College for you,” Lauren offered.

  Sue shook her head. “I’ve already looked, they offer bookkeeping and accountancy courses as a full fees option only.”

  “Typical, but keep checking; it might be worth giving them a ring, just to make sure.”

  “Yeah, I suppose so.” Sue’s head was spinning, she’d decided on a new career, one that could work for her and she’d felt excited. In the end maybe it wouldn’t work out, maybe her brain had turned into an irreversible pile of mush, but she had to give it a go. There must be some way to do it, but as her head ticked off the options, she wasn’t sure what it would be.

  “Have you tried looking at the Open College, studying as a distant learner?” Lauren asked.

  “I can’t afford to pay for the course,” Sue stated again.

  “They do offer funding, I’ve done two courses through them and I’ve never had to pay.”

  “Really?” Sue’s mood lifted, her plan had suddenly gone back on track.

  “Yes, and I’m thinking of doing another one next year. It’s certainly worth looking at.”

  “Right, yes, I’ll have a look when I get home, thanks,” Sue replied. It had only taken five years, but she’d finally been given a useful piece of information by the Jobcentre Plus.

  If her father was surprised that she emerged from the building with a smile on her face, he didn’t say anything, he merely lifted his eyebrows as she climbed into the car.

  “That was quite a useful visit, for a change. There is no funding for me via the jobcentre, but Lauren did say that there was some via the Open College, which would be ideal because I can do it remotely in my own time.”

  “Well, that sounds encouraging. Are you sure there’s nothing through the jobcentre though, you would have thought they’d offer something,” her dad said.

  “You know what they’re like, heaven forbid they actually do something useful. No, there’s only funding if you want to go on and improve your existing skills, whereas I want to change career altogether.”

  “What the hell difference does it make? These people couldn’t find someone a job if they were standing beside a wanted sign. I was reading an article the other day by an employer, retired now of course and I forget what it was he’d done, he was saying years ago if you wanted staff, you could call in at the local job centre and they’d say so and so would be great for the job and that was that. They actually matched the unemployed up with the job market, saw the process through from beginning to end. Now, he says he wouldn’t even go through the jobcentre, because you receive hundreds of applications that have nothing to do with the position you’ve advertised. It’s just a complete waste of everyone’s time.”

  “That’s because you’re obliged to apply for so many jobs a week to get your JSA, your suitability for the work is immaterial,” Sue stated.

  “Exactly, if you want to advertise a job, or find one, he said the jobcentre is the last place he’d go to. Ridiculous, isn’t it? All these people employed to tick boxes.” Sue could hear the frustration in her dad’s voice and knew it was there because he wanted her to go on and find something meaningful to do. Existing amid the dank pools of despair, was not a place Sue had ever thought she’d find herself, and the journey had been a complete culture shock. Christ, if she hadn’t been marooned there herself she might have been nodding along to Proust as he talked about reforming the welfare state, ending the free ride it had always been for those who had embraced it as a life choice.

  “Although to be fair, I don’t think finding you work is part of their remit, their job is to ensure you’ve jumped through the hoops required by law. They haven’t time to do anything else, bar check up on you.”

  “I don’t know what the hell this country is coming to, I really don’t,” her dad said.

  “Yep,” Sue agreed, it was a common theme, often revisited by her father, but today he seemed to have talked himself out. He merely shook his head and sighed once more.

  Ten minutes after being dropped off by her dad, Sue was seated with her laptop on her knee, a hot water bottle on her back and a cup of tea by her side. The fire of enthusiasm she’d felt when talking to Lauren was still there; gosh Lottie would be surprised when she came in and Sue had already enrolled on her course. Because, although Sue didn’t like to think of it, she knew deep down inside, well insulated with denial, was that worrying thought that her daughter thought her capable of more. That she could attempt more than she did, aspire to more. O
h, it wasn’t as if Lottie had ever given Sue cause to think that, and maybe it was the voice of her first GP, Dr Grove, all those years ago, ‘you’re setting a bad example to your daughter,’ that nagged at her, but she just had to show Lottie, everyone, that she was doing the best she could. Her parents ate into their savings every month, supporting her, keeping her home, for them she had to demonstrate that she wasn’t wasting their money, she knew the overwhelming value of their support, and she needed to do her part to be worthy of it. Or maybe it was just the guilt that the vast majority of people on benefits felt, every single day. Because society excludes you, without even being aware it does so, shops have metal shutters pulled down over the doors, only window shopping is allowed, and even then it’s a pointless act. All those friends chatting and laughing in cafes, another cappuccino, this time with a muffin, but the hill to climb before you enter just keeps extending away from you. Theatre, cinema, friends, people who ask, ‘have you seen such and such?’ and you feel the heat rising in your cheeks, as you mutter, ‘no, was it any good?’

  Sue was lucky, her friends and family never asked shall we go for a cuppa, to the cinema, a meal? They said, ‘come on we’re going, my treat,’ enabling Sue to slip between the two worlds, remember her old life while being horrified at the treatment of her new one. But like everyone else she still dreamed of that, ‘one day.’ when she would be working and be able to treat everyone, repay their kindness for looking after her. It’s a strange world, in the way we define ourselves, meet someone you haven’t seen for years and one of the first questions they ask is, where are you working now? Because, of course, it’s an expectation, everyone doing their part to maintain the status quo, and when your answer is, ‘nothing,’ everything else stops, conversation becomes strained and small talk dries up; partly because the one who asked the question is embarrassed at stumbling into such a supposedly sensitive area, and partly because of the respondent. In such situations Sue refused to elaborate or explain, she merely stated that she wasn’t in fact working at the present time, and then became silent. Maybe it was a challenge, and at that an unfair one, to see how they would react, as you refuse to apologise for your existence. But the attempt to justify, explain your situation somehow seemed worse, seemed to validate a feeling of unworthiness. It was the same when Sue had attended her many medicals and appeal hearings; answer each question as if it’s your worst day, don’t take your medication before you go, become upset and cry a little, it all helps, people said. But she refused, why the hell should she? If she was capable of working she’d be doing it for christ’s sake. She wouldn’t reduce herself to their level, she wouldn’t fling herself prostrate at the feet of the state. No, they should accept her word as truth, the fact that they didn’t and sat over every appeal and medical with the assumption that everyone they saw was lying, well, that was for their conscience to deal with. Sue would not give them the satisfaction of being anything other than herself because that should be enough.

  The Open College website was easy enough to find, and sure enough they did indeed run an accounting and bookkeeping level 1, first hurdle overcome. What was harder to establish was the criteria for accessing their social fund, after several fruitless minutes searching Sue decided to do it the old fashioned way and phone them up. After navigating the maze of options, she finally made it to the relevant service.

  “Hello, Open College funding department, Chris speaking, how may I help you?”

  “Hello, I was phoning about your bookkeeping and accountancy level 1. I’m just after a little information really.”

  “Okay, that’s no problem, if you just hold on for a second I’ll check and make sure we still offer that course.”

  The sound of fingers on a key board drifted down through Sue’s earpiece.

  “Ah yes, that course is still current.”

  “That’s great,” Sue replied. “But what I really wanted to ask about was the availability of funding through your social fund.”

  “I see, we do offer a limited number of bursaries dependent upon your situation.” The way he said it suggested that, even if it was a possibility, it was a difficult one. He continued, “Have you accessed further education before?”

  Sue’s excitement started to drain away from her stomach. “I have, but it was over twenty years ago.”

  “So you have a degree level qualification?”

  “Yes, in history and a P.G.C.E. in teaching,” she stated, all the joy she’d felt at being proactive and in believing she could retrain through the Open College had now gone. She just waited for the confirmation that although she may have found a possible new career path, accessing it was not going to be that easy.

  “I’m sorry, the funding we offer is only available for those who have not yet accessed further education.”

  “Ah right, thank you for your help,” Sue said.

  “You’re welcome, is there anything else I can help you with today?”

  “No, that was it, thanks.”

  “Okay, bye.”

  “Bye.” Hum, she might have cleared the hurdle, but she’d landed in a heap on the other side. Still, there must be other pots of money available, all she had to do was find them. Although disappointed, Sue refused to give up that easily, she had to explore every avenue she could find, she owed it to herself, and to her family. Over the next few days she researched any possible lead toward an elusive pot of gold. Student finance was a dead end, having studied at University before; there seemed to be money available for eighteen to twenty-four year olds, but that was not of any use to her. She checked out several charities, but didn’t fit their criteria, and dismissed a study loan from the bank; she would not take on debt when she couldn’t absolutely guarantee she would be able to pay it off in the future. After all she may yet turn out to be hopeless as a bookkeeper, she might be unable to find enough work, or her physicality could deteriorate beyond a level she could cope with. No, she wouldn’t lend money, failure would mean asking her parents to pay it off and she was doing this for them as well as herself. And, of course, if her body limited her productivity, she had to face the unsavoury thought that she could be better off on benefits; she found it shameful to think it, but it was true. If she could only manage a few hours a week, but it amounted to just over her benefits payment, her mortgage help and council tax relief would stop and she would be unable to pay them. It was an awful position to be in but Sue now understood what people meant when they said they were better off on benefits. It was essential she clear at least one hundred and twenty-five pounds a week in order to cover her bills. Sue didn’t want any more than that, she wasn’t particularly materialistic, the benefits system and her Buddhist leanings had put paid to that, but she did need to be financially independent of her parents; their retirement pot should be their own, to pay for holidays, little treats to compensate for a lifetime of work, and not be used to prop up their daughter.

  She kept going, and found a local college which specialised in educating those with physical and mental health problems, they did a bookkeeping course but it was full time which she found to be a tad odd, at the end of the day, if she could have coped with those hours, she would have still been working, and everything else would have been immaterial. The only glimmer of a possibility that existed, was an adult access to study grant available via the Work Introduction Programme. She phoned her mam and dad. Mark Bailey answered.

  “Hi dad, well I may have found some funding,” Sue said, she’d been keeping everyone updated on her search.

  “That’s great, who through?” She heard the relief in her father’s voice.

  “Well, that would be the not good news bit, according to the website it’s available through the Work Introduction advisor.”

  “Okay…why’s that bad news?” her dad asked.

  “The Work Introduction adviser was that useless woman, you know the one who was going to post me out all these great work from home opportunities.”

  “Oh yes, I remember and despite cha
sing her up on it you never heard a thing,” Mark Bailey almost groaned as he spoke.

  “Yep, that’s the one,” Sue confirmed.

  “Still, it’s been a while since you were there, maybe they’ve got someone new.”

  “I hope so, anyway I’m going to give Lauren a ring and ask if she’ll make an appointment for me.”

  “I suppose it’s worth a shot Sue,” her dad said.

  “Gosh, yes, it is, I know, I’ll definitely give it a go.”

  “Okay, hang on, here’s your mother for a quick word.”

  “Okay, bye dad.”

  “Hi, how are you feeling today?” her mum asked, bless her. Sue had been off work for almost five years and she still asked, every time she spoke to her, how she was feeling.

  “Not too bad, thank you. I was just telling dad about some funding I might have found, but I have to go through the Work Introduction advisor,” Sue said.

  “The Work…wasn’t that the useless woman who did absolutely nothing?”