Chapter 27 - Gay Dave, Thursday

Yesterday ended up being every kind of shit!

I knew I was tempting fate when I thought we were on top of the auditing stuff! Then in the middle of the day the temp left - she said she couldn’t cope with it, the work was too complicated and the people were hassling her. God knows who she meant, but HR came down for a bit of an inquest, which is when I came back from lunch and found Bob and Mike in full flight. Bob was blaming Mike, and Mike was claiming it was nothing to do with him at all - which is a fair point, as he’d got his own PA back why would he want to steal our temp? I’m guessing she’d spoken to Bob before she left so he had some kind of idea about what he was talking about, but it didn’t seem to make much sense. Mike got sick of being blamed for things he hadn’t done and stormed off back to his office, muttering about, “this fucking place!” Bob headed back to his and five minutes later had sent a memo requesting a meeting between me, Mike and him tomorrow morning. Oh good , there’s nothing better I like than starting the day with inter-office bickering!
I spent the rest of the afternoon going over what she’d done, trying to work out how much more needed to be sorted, and allocating it around the office. About 4.30 David knocked on the door looking very sheepish.
“Hmm, Dave, I need to speak to you.”
“This isn’t the best time David, is there any chance it could wait a day or two?”
“Well, I’m not sure. It’s just that I think it might be my fault that the temp left.”
Great, this was all I needed. It would have suited me perfectly if Mike’s team had fucked this up, and would have been the perfect reason to get a new PA just for our department instead of this sharing nonsense. If it turns out someone on my team scared her off we’re fucked. And Mike will never let me here the last of it. Shit.
“OK David, I don’t want to hear this, but you better sit down and tell me what happened.”
“Well, it was only meant as a joke….”
What followed was a tale of bored blokes in an office getting their kicks by winding up the temp. Apparently they’ve specially photocopied pictures of their own arses just for such and occasion. And asking the temp to copy and laminate a selection of them might not have been the smartest idea, especially when they used an old Post-it note from Mike as the instruction. Fuckwits.
“How could you be so fucking stupid? This isn’t school you know! You know we’re on the verge of an important audit and if it goes badly we’re fucked. And I mean properly fucked. I mean sackings across the board and an accounts company replacing all of us. You stupid fucking twat!”
“Sorry Dave, it was only a joke!”
“A joke? You amaze me. How old are you? Too fucking old to be photocopying your spotty arse! Now, who else knows about this?”
“Just me, Jed and Tom.”
“Right, don’t tell anyone. This isn’t going to blow over. Bob wants a meeting about it tomorrow. If Mike gets wind of this you’re fucked and there’s nothing I can do to help you. Although why I’d want to is anyone’s guess. Now get out of my fucking sight and do something useful”
Oh shit.
I spent the rest of the day wondering what to do. Should I protect the stupid fucker and hope the whole situation blows over? Or sacrifice him just to put an end to the trouble? I felt like I ought to protect my department, but in doing so we’d really shoot ourselves in the foot. I hope to God this blows over.

By the time I got home my head was spinning and I needed to clear it. Dancing would have been good, or drinking for that matter, but I was a bit short of mates who were up for that kind of thing on a Wednesday night. Danny was out with Todd and had left a note telling me not to worry if he didn’t come back tonight. Jammy git.
So I made myself a G&T, got out of my work clothes and got on the computer. Within a few minutes I was chatting to three or four potential playmates, and within half an hour I had someone on their way round. There was just enough time to jump in the shower, tidy the bedroom and make myself look seductive. Actually, seductive was the last thing I needed to look - we both knew why he was coming round, who was I kidding.
An hour later there was no sign of him. Apparently he only lived round the corner, so he should have taken no time at all to get round. The fucker had stood me up! I went back online to see if I could find him, but there was no sign, and everyone else I’d been chatting to had gone as well - clearly they’d got themselves sorted for the evening, so it looked like I’d be spending it on my own. Damn. I hate Wednesday’s.

Thursday turned out to be not much better either!

I headed to work, still unsure about what I was going to do. I’d decided I was going to wait and see how both Bob and Mike were behaving - if they’d slept on it and agreed the whole thing was bollocks I’d probably just let it lie, but if things got nasty I’d have no choice but to throw David to the lions.
I was doing the usual morning stuff - post, emails, catching up with phone calls - when Jim phoned to say he was at a police station, waiting to pick up Simon. What in God’s name can that be about? Simon doesn’t do anything wrong, I’d be surprised if he’d ever broken a law in his life. Something must have happened to him, he sometimes had victim written all over him.
I wanted to phone Nick, but Jim said not to, as it’d only panic their mother, which wouldn’t be a pretty sight. So I told him to ring me and got on with my work, slightly distracted though - what can he have done? Thankfully the meeting was called off, perhaps they both realised that now wasn’t the time, although when I saw Mike in the corridor he looked like thunder, so I doubt we’ve heard the last of it.
Jim finally rang just before lunch - he’d been with Simon all morning, who was apparently in a bit of a state. He was nervous about leaving him on his own, but had to get back to work for a meeting, so he wondered if I’d go over and see him? My first thought was to tell him I couldn’t and to get Nick to do it, but they rub each other up the wrong way so it’d only make things worse. I made a quick mental check of everything I had to do in the afternoon and decided it could all wait, so I said yes, and as soon as it was lunchtime made my excuses and left.
I grabbed a cab, not fancying the ridiculous bus journey to Simon’s, and by the time I got there Jim had gone. Simon finally came to the door, looking like shit. He was still wearing a suit jacket despite the fact they’d been home for hours, and he looked like he’d not long stopped crying.
We went up to the flat, and sat down. I didn’t know what to say, so I waited for him to say something, but he didn’t, just sat there staring into space. This wasn’t going to get us anywhere. I toyed with the idea of making tea, but the coffee table was littered with cups so that had obviously been Jim’s plan too. In the end I just put my hand on his arm and asked him if he wanted to tell me what had happened. I thought he might be up to it as he’d obviously spent all morning talking to Jim, but he just started crying, so I gave him a hug until he stopped. Then he held my hand and started telling me the whole story.
When I thought he’d finished he said,
“but there’s something else. I didn’t tell Jim, he might not have understood, but I know you will.”
It was only after he’d finished telling me about his incident in the toilets that it occurred to me that I should be slightly insulted that he would think I’d understand - is that what he thought I did all the time?! It was hard to know what to say - he was clearly going through a bad patch, and sometimes one bad thing seems to attract another, until you’re in the middle of a cycle you can’t escape from. I just hoped he was going to be strong enough to ride it out, although judging from what I’d seen I hardly thought so.
It was getting late and I’d not eaten. I was guessing that he hadn’t either, so I suggested I go make us some sandwiches. But once he realised what the time was he got in a bit of a panic - he was supposed to be going to his Mum’s for a birthday tea. I just told him to cancel it - he was hardly in a fit state for cake and presents, and he certainly wouldn’t manage to put on a brave face. But he said he’d have to go - it’d be easier to explain to his Mum in person than on the phone, especially if Nick was there to help calm her down. I made her promise not to mention the cottaging - there are just some things you shouldn’t tell your Mum, especially not on your birthday!