Sue reached the doorway, which was slightly ajar, checked her watch and then knocked and went in.
“Oh, I’m sorry, are you still busy or shall I wait?” Sue asked. There were four people in what was obviously an IT suite, two women, two men; they were chatting amongst themselves and Sue was confused as to whether they were lecturers having a meeting, or students, or anything in between.
“No, just come in, we did,” one of the women said.
Students then.
It was a decent sized room, monitors around the edges and a large table in the middle of it. The men sat opposite each other on the table while one woman sat on the side of the room directly opposite from Sue, the next, one edge along. Sue shuffled in and sat at the remaining side; a large whiteboard dominated the remaining wall. They couldn’t have positioned themselves further away from each other if they’d tried.
Sue squeezed her file between two keyboards, and removed a pen from her bag. Christ she’d forgotten to check if it worked, she’d been too busy hunting for a file to put some paper in. And, it had only dawned on her to do that five minutes before she was due to leave. She opened the file and did a small squiggle on the bottom of her first sheet of A4, and was extremely relieved when she saw a corresponding black mark appear. First crisis averted.
The door opened, wide, this was obviously the lecturer, Sue couldn’t imagine anyone else entering with such confidence. Sue was sure that when she’d been a student the first time around, she’d probably assumed that as an adult she would have re-entered the education experience with a self-confidence borne from the intervening years, yet in fact the opposite was true. She felt terrified, afraid of being judged, afraid of saying something stupid or doing something stupid; the fact that she knew she was being ridiculous in thinking that way did not help.
“Hello, I’m Carol and I’ll be taking the accountancy level one course. Has everyone enrolled?”
Murmured affirmations accompanied by earnest head nodding followed.
“Good, although you are of course allowed to talk,” Carol smiled as she spoke. She looked to be in her mid-forties, stick thin with jet black hair, obviously dyed, Sue surmised because who, at her age, had such a luscious deep colour without the aid of a bottle. Her opening remark did not sit well, had she being trying to put everyone at ease or was she going to be one of those annoying over the top types who rubbed Sue up the wrong way. It was strange, in her job as primary school teacher Sue had always sought to raised children’s self-esteem, to make them confident and comfortable with themselves; yet see those qualities in an adult and Sue groaned inwardly. Having achieved little reaction from her students, Carol ploughed doggedly onwards.
“Right, as I said I’m Carol, so why don’t we just go around and everyone can introduce themselves and perhaps say why they’ve chosen the course.”
She nodded at the man in front of her and to the right.
“My name’s Steve Hunterson. I’ve been on various courses and this one interested me, so I thought I’d give it a go. I’ve studied carpentry, plumbing…”
Good grief, Sue thought, where did he get the time? He must be either unemployed or on long term sick.
“…I even tried alternative therapies but…”
Sue’s eyes threatened to glaze over as Steve insisted upon giving a blow by blow account of all the courses he’d attended, and his opinion of the tutors.
“Well, I’ll have to be on my toes,” Carol managed to interrupt his flow, turning to the man sitting opposite Steve.
“My name is David Fromes, this is my first course, unlike Steve. I spent twenty years in the army but, since coming out, I’ve realised that I haven’t really got many transferable skills. I’ve come on the course in order to kick start a possible new career.”
Sue smiled at the back of David’s head, they were in the same boat, having to retrain after years in one job.
“My name is Diane Shield, I’ve got two children and have been a housewife for the last eight years. My youngest son has just started school so I’m looking for a possible new career myself.”
Another one on team Sue, excellent; she could feel herself staring to relax.
“My name is Linda Tate, I’m already an accountant, but I’ve only ever worked online using Sage. I wanted to learn the bookkeeping side of things, double entry, and so on.”
One to sit next to, Sue thought, I’ll probably need all the help I can get. She looked around at her fellow students, it would be…and then she realised they were all looking at her, rather expectantly, which could only mean it was her turn.
“My name is Sue…” and then she stopped, she now fully understood what people meant when they said their mind went blank, because there was nothing there, not a single thought, except her own panic and the instruction to speak,“…Bailey, Sue Bailey…” What on earth was she supposed to say, what had everyone else said? She couldn’t remember that either, but she knew she had to say something, “…err…that is, I can’t actually remember what I was supposed to say next, sorry.”
“Don’t worry, I do that all the time,” Carol grinned as she spoke. “We were just telling each other why we’d enrolled on the course.”
Sue took a breath to compose herself, and then spoke before she forgot what she was supposed to say once more, “Well, I’m looking to retrain, I was a teacher, but…” she made a gesture toward her stick, “…but now I’m not. And, is it okay if I get up and stretch my legs now and again, I’ll try not to disturb anyone obviously.”
“That’s perfectly fine,” Carol said. “You just do what you need to do.”
“Great,” Sue replied, the need to mention her physical limitations had been on her mind all day, it was a suggestion from the pain management course, forward planning enabled you to make things as easy for yourself as possible. Maybe that was why she’d forgotten everything else, in her need to remember that one thing.
“Right, well I think we might as well jump straight in. I have to say five is a lovely number, I had twenty nine on this course last term and that was too many, I struggled to get around everyone; so five is brilliant.”
Sue thought she should try getting around twenty-nine children, that was hard. She shifted in her seat, it wasn’t a particularly comfortable one and it was just a shade too high, she would adjust it when there was a pause in the course. In fact Sue could do with standing up, but she was afraid it was too soon. But then, why would it be too soon? That was a ridiculous thought, if she needed to ease her back, she needed to ease her back. If she sat for much longer she was going to be in some real pain, she looked at the others. Sue was sure they wouldn’t mind, but she…
“…so if I give you this flow chart it shows the exchange of documents I’ve just mentioned.”
Sue had no idea what Carol was talking about, her stomach returned to a hard knot; she needed to listen, she must concentrate.
“Thank you,” Sue said as she took the sheet.
It had information on it about a buyer and a seller, and how paper work passed between the two, so if…it was no good, Sue needed to stand up. She eased herself gently to her feet and massaged her lower back.
“Are you okay?” Carol asked.
Sue stood still. “Oh, yes, I’m fine, sorry.”
“No, no that’s fine you just make sure you’re comfortable,” Carol said.
“Thanks,” Sue said, hoping she wasn’t going to ask her if she was okay every time she stood up, as it was she could feel Steve’s gaze upon her; he was obviously wondering why she was hobbling about with a stick.
“…and the seller requests payment, what sort of document would be issued?” Carol asked.
By the time Sue took the four steps back to her place and picked up the flow chart, four voices had said, “An invoice.”
Sue sat back down, she must try and follow what was going on, but that horrible gut wrenching exhaustion that she’d felt of late, seemed to fall over her like a fine silk sheet. Dragging exhaustion thro
ugh her body, culminating in nausea no longer caused by nerves but tiredness. I want to go home, I need to go home, that thought filled her head. She couldn’t be bothered and what the hell was the woman talking about now? “…and if there was a problem with the goods, what may be issued to the buyer?”
“A credit note,” four voices again.
A credit note, Sue thought, that’s it, she has lost me. Why would the seller issue a credit note? Sue ignored Carol and tried to focus on the point she’d just made. If the buyer had bought something and then they paid for the goods, if there was a problem, they’d get a credit note or refund, got it…hopefully.
“Excellent,” Carol said. Sue doubted very much that she was included in that praise.
“I’m going to hand out a little activity, but before that who can tell me what VAT is?”
Sue shot her hand up, answering the question at the same time, “It’s the tax that gets added to most goods when we buy them, although items such as children’s clothing are exempt,” Sue said.
“Right, and what does VAT actually stand for?”
Sue’s mind froze, it was as if answering that one question had drained it of the power of thought once more.
“Value added tax.”
“Thanks Steve, yes, value added tax. I’m going to be asking you to work out the VAT from some GROSS figures and thus give me the NET, and then to work out the VAT from some NET figures and thus give me the GROSS. You’ll need your calculators for this one.”
The feeling of complete terror mixed with utter apathy struck Sue once more, she could never remember which was the GROSS amount and which was the NET to start with, and to top matters off, she hadn’t thought to bring a calculator.
“Has anyone not got a calculator with them?” Carol asked.
Sue raised her hand.
“Have you got one on your phone perhaps?”
“Yes,” Sue replied, but didn’t add that she had no idea how to use it, she should have said no, now she would look even more stupid.
“Is everything okay?” Carol asked appearing at Sue’s side, as she sat down once more.
“Yes, I’m fine, really.” Sue had no idea why she’d felt the need to add really. She stared at the sheet in front of her and wondered what the hell she was doing on the course? It wasn’t that the content was hard she knew this stuff, it was just that her brain had obviously settled down for the night and left an idiot in charge. She tried to focus; question one, explain the difference between a sales invoice and a purchase invoice – that’s easy, isn’t it? Or is it…what was the difference? The purchase invoice is…she hunted for her flow chart, but couldn’t see the answer. She tried not to panic, question two, what is the VAT owed by…right, divide by one hundred and multiply by twenty…is that right, yes…isn’t it? Yes, so the NET is…she risked a look around her, everyone looked to be finished, how was that possible? Carol weaved between the students marking their first pages while Sue had yet to answer one question, and she couldn’t be bothered, couldn’t think for tiredness and her back hurt, pain spiking into her neck, but she had to try, right, the NET’s £85.00, so divide by one hundred and…
“How are you getting on?” Carol asked, standing looking over Sue’s shoulder.
“Fine, fine really.”
It was obvious from the expression on her face that Carol doubted that to be the case. “Well, just shout if you’re unsure.”
“Thanks,” Sue replied, she could feel her cheeks burning.
“I’ll come round and mark second pages,” Carol announced to the room.
Sue could have cried as she turned over her sheet to reveal yet another one underneath.
They had been in the room almost an hour when Carol announced she was popping along to the office to check something; conversation flowed more easily this time, but Sue did not join in, she was still entangled within the horror of the VAT system.
“Would you like to borrow my calculator?” Linda asked.
“Thank you,” Sue said. “I don’t know how to use the one on my phone.”
“Well,” Carol announced her arrival back in the room, “I just thought I’d better go and check with reception, as there has to be at least ten students on the course for it to run. So, I think we may as well leave it there for tonight. Hopefully more people will enrol by next week, but someone will e-mail you and let you know what’s going to happen.”
Everyone voiced their hope that the course would continue, as they packed up their bags and picked up their coats. Sue was the slowest to leave causing Carol to come over yet again and ask if she was alright. Sue smiled and replied of course she was, and she hoped to be back the following week and then she sat in the foyer, texted her dad, and asked him to come and pick her up.
Her dad wanted to know all about the course, how it had been, how many other students there were, and so on, but Sue sat in a blank cloud and struggled to answer with the appropriate comment. Then she got out of the car, waved good night to her dad, unlocked the front door, went inside, sat on the sofa, put her head in her hands and cried. Because she’d only been there an hour, and it would normally be a three hour course, because she couldn’t think, couldn’t concentrate, because she was so tired and in so much pain, because she had to be able to do this, had to be able to get out of the benefits system, be able to support herself, because…because…she got up, it was seven thirty, and she climbed the stairs to bed.
The following morning Sue sat with her college notes in hand, and it all made perfect sense, it was easy. She did all the exercises in no time at all, and yet last night had been awful, and would probably continue to be awful for the next nine weeks. She would have to do what she could on the evening at college, and then consolidate the information at home the following morning. She stretched out her legs, christ, her whole body felt like it had been hit by a bus, she felt sore and bruised, ready to go back to bed despite the fact she’d only been up for an hour. And that was it, wasn’t it, could her body hack a three hour course, one night a week; in the back of her mind the answer lay, no it couldn’t, but she wasn’t going to give that response space to grow, because she had to do it, had to, there was no other option and maybe her body would adapt. It took four days of bed rest and gentle movements for Sue to recover from the hour at college, her determination to carry on regardless turned out to be a needless one; the day after she received an e-mail, the course had been cancelled.
Chapter forty-nine
Andrew
“I think we should have another one soon, I like the idea of having a small age gap between our kids,” Molly murmured as she lay in her husband’s arms.
“I’m all in favour of the process, but…I mean, we barely sleep as it is,” Andrew replied.
“I know, but I never had a sister or a brother and I want Elaine to have all that.”
“I don’t know,” Andrew said, kissing his wife on the forehead. “You’re pretty perfect.”
Molly snorted, “Flattery doesn’t work on me Prime Minister. It’s something I want to seriously consider.”
“Of course, but Elaine’s just started sleeping through; do you really want to be up seeing to another baby in between the few short hours of oblivion we enjoy now?” Andrew asked.
“You are aware that after the small matter of conceiving, it’ll be another nine months before anything happens.”
“I know Mols, I just worry that it’s you who has to shoulder most of the responsibility in looking after Elaine; maybe if we hired a nanny?”
“No way, not happening; I don’t want to have children just for someone else to raise them.” Molly had made her feelings very clear on this subject before, but it didn’t stop Andrew feeling guilty about the fact that he wasn’t always around as much as he desperately wanted to be. He’d been worried about his reaction when Elaine had been born, but he needn’t have been, the moment he saw her he fell in love; a deep, protective adoration that a parent feels for their child. He’d found himself looking at his
own parents and wondering, how did they bare it when he and his sister had gone on their first night out, first holidays with mates and when they’d finally left home? Elaine was just over a year old and he already worried about her constantly. He often found himself drifting off during cabinet meetings, wondering what Molly and Elaine were up to, especially when the Foreign Secretary was droning on; it wasn’t that he wasn’t a decent politician, but that he had a monotonous, nasal twang to his voice that irritated Andrew even on a good day.
“I guess, if you’re sure then…yes, we can think about trying for another child. But, as its twelve thirty and I have to be up at five to fly to Germany, can it not be tonight?”
“Gosh Prime Minister, you are such a romantic,” Molly replied.
Andrew gave her a playful nip.
“Hey,” she squeaked, and then they both froze, bodies rigid, waiting, until finally they relaxed once more. The danger had been averted, Elaine had not been woken up.
*****
“You look rough,” Nigel said as Andrew climbed into the car.
“Thanks.”
“You’re welcome, tough night with the baby?”
“She has a name Nigel.” Andrew’s irritation had grown from the moment he’d woken at five, followed swiftly by Elaine. She’d cried for the whole hour he was getting ready, normally he could cope fine, but this morning had just been horrendous. Molly had been following him around, Elaine jostled on her hip, asking if he’d packed enough socks and so on, while he’d tried to order his thoughts for the day ahead. In the end he’d had to ask Molly to take Elaine into another room and shut the door, just so he could concentrate enough to make a pot of coffee, never mind meeting the German Chancellor later. However, what was worse was that as his screaming child was carried off he’d shouted after his wife, and you want another one? Now of course he felt like the worst husband/father in the world, and all he wanted to do was spend the day with the two people he loved most, and not be stuck on a plane with his Chancellor, who, quite frankly, he couldn’t stand.
An Ordinary Working Man Page 36
