Workmates

Loud laughter leaks from the lunchroom… door sitting slightly ajar.

Surely today will be different. As they say, “Today is the start of the rest of my life!”

Inhaling deeply, straightening her shoulders, Cindy carefully schools her face into a pleasantly, neutral expression. Resolutely, she pushes open the lunchroom door. Meredith - her back to the entrance - continues to chortle away merrily, rather like a kookaburra.

A blanket of silence suddenly falls over the rest of the room. Like a ping-pong match, gazes bounce between Meredith and Cindy. A gamut of expressions surround them… embarrassment, shock, amusement, shame and mischief. Meredith, slow on the uptake, finally takes a breath and turns to face the newcomer.

Mouth agape and eyebrows hidden in her fringe, she stalls. “Oh! I didn’t expect to see you today. I thought you were sick, again,” is the best she can come up with. “Sorry to hear about your mother,” she adds, insincerely.

With a dip of her head, Cindy searches in vain for a clear patch to place her bag. Yet again, the others have strewn their gear on every clean, level surface. Gingerly, she deposits her belongings in the corner — onto the grubby floor — in the vain hope they won’t get kicked over. Likewise, the fridge is already packed to capacity. Undeterred, she spends a few tense minutes squeezing her lunch into an almost nonexistent space in the far, back corner.

It should be safe there. I’m tired of being reduced to ‘Iron Rations’!

Like a scene from an oil painting, they all remain frozen in time and place. Everyone avoids eye contact with her. Outside — at the Town Hall — the clock strikes nine, and shatters the silence. Relieved to be spared awkward, small talk, Cindy tosses “I hope it’s a good day,” over her shoulder and beats a hasty retreat. Immediately, a low murmur of conversation recommences, interspersed with staccatos of laughter. A few minutes later they amble out to start ‘work’.

The morning flies by, as usual. Cindy barely draws breath between answering the incessant phone and customer inquiries. The rest of the team are kept ‘busy’ staring at their mobile phones computers and discussing ‘weighty’ matters. The customer queue sporadically, stretches like a bungy cord. Disgruntled glares threaten to boil over and shake the office staff out of their impervious state. Then — with a huff and a scowl —the others staff take turns ‘helping’ out… grudgingly scraping their chairs back to rudely approach the counter and its awaiting customers.

Lunchtime makes a welcome appearance. Like fallen leaves in autumn, her workmates drift off, leaving Cindy to plug away — alone — until they eventually wander back, satiated.

Shelby, the Office Manager barks, “Cindy! Why haven’t you taken your lunch break? You know you need to make a start on the mail and banking in twenty minutes. Why must I remind you every day? Quick… off you go, now!”

Mutely, Cindy beats a hasty retreat.

Thankfully, I have some lasagna to brighten this dreary day.

Entering the vacant lunchroom, her heart sinks. She instantly registers that the room is redolent with an aroma suspiciously like her previous evening’s meal. Swinging the fridge door open, an all too familiar view greets her. Like a carcass picked clean by vultures, only a few withered pieces of fruit and an expired tub of yoghurt remain. Her lunchbox sits abandoned in the sink full of unwashed dishes and cutlery… lasagna crusted and congealing on several plates.

Not much of a start to the rest of my life. Muesli bars and potato chips… some lunch! I suppose I should pity the rest of them… bored, clock watching and overeating. What dismal lives!

Her reprieve from ‘Office Ostracism’ is unexpectedly interrupted by a tear stained workmate pushing through the doorway. Meredith, strives to conceal her distraught state by snuffling into a tissue… muttering about ‘hayfever’.

After a moment, Cindy makes another cup of coffee and offers it to Meredith. Surprise flits across her splotchy face. Hesitantly, she accepts the cuppa.

Twenty minutes evaporates. The banking beckons. Cindy squares her shoulders for Round Two.

Soon afterwards, Meredith emerges, smile plastered on her puffy face. Studiously ignoring Cindy’s discrete, inquiring glance, she returns to the welcoming fold her circle of friends. Before long, they’re kicking back; sharing pet photos and giggling over silly memes on their phones.

Only half an hour until knock off time…

Cindy frantically dashes off to catch the bank, before closing time. Later, mission accomplished, she approaches the office entrance. Her fellow workmates are already exiting. “Meet you down the road for Friday arvo drinks,” they call to each other, ignoring her completely. She may as well be a clear plate of glass.

Brushing past her, Meredith brusquely reminds her, “Don’t forget to lock up properly when you leave.”

In moments, the flurry of activity ceases. One lone car now squats in the car park… awash with blissful peace and quiet. With a sigh and shake of her head, Cindy turns back to finish her the day’s work before closing up the now empty, premises.

Just another day at the office.

*

A modern day Cinderella tale, written for the below challenge. Sadly, no rescue in sight.