This is a story about a young girl and her changing relationship with her boss as he trains her over a period of time. There is no underage character in the story which is purely a work of fiction.
*****
I was a habitual late comer to office and often I left office early too for reasons that would be evident later on in my narrative. My last supervisor had warned me on this lapse quite often. But I ignored him till he was just on the verge of taking action. Just then, he decided to quit, much to my relief but he was just replaced by another supervisor. I should have realized that, as an authority, a supervisor had to impose rules and in turn, as an employee, I had to obey those rules and I really had no reason to feel relieved. Things continued to be normal for a while but eventually it became worse than before. I observed that the new supervisor was keeping a much closer watch on the staff under him, obviously to my discomfort, and I just dreaded being summoned any day. I didn't have to wait long.
At 5 pm a week after his joining, as most of the staff started to make their way out of office and I too was packing to leave, my new boss Mr. Malcolm Smith called me on my extension.
"Please wait behind till the others have left Jenny, then step into my office." That tone, I was sure, would not lead to very happy conclusions. But it was my thinking that he was new and I would try to get the upper hand on the first day itself.
I straightened my dress, ran a few fingers through the lustrous strands of my hair and then, without knocking, walked in straight, pulled a chair and sat down.
I got the shock of my life when he confronted me with something that I was certain nobody knew ... or rather, knew till now. I had lied to the company to get this appointment and, somehow, my new supervisor had got a whiff of this secret. I really didn't know what to say when he threatened me with dismissal and asked if I had anything to say.
The truth is that I had a huge debt on my head and I had, in addition to this job here, taken up a part-time job where I was required to put in a couple of hours three days in a week. Invariably, I was either late on these days or found a pretext to leave early. I had incurred this debt due to my way of life but that's another story that I would like to forget. I knew I couldn't tell these things to my supervisor. That'll surely be a reason for my dismissal under the company's Disciplinary Code.
"Is there anything you want to say, Jenny?"
I was uneasy, unable to give a proper explanation. As I looked towards the floor unable to look at him, I hoped that my silence would get me out of harm's way. But I knew he still had his eyes on me, waiting for an answer.
"Mr. Smith, I am really sorry Sir ... actually I was desperate for the job," I appealed to him with imploring eyes.
He remained unmoved, just tapping a finger on the desk and staring at me with cold eyes, silently sending the message across - go on, tell me the reason.
"I beg of you Sir, Oh! Please! I didn't mean any harm," I was almost on the verge of tears, "I am willing to compensate."
"Jenny, I can see that this job means a lot to you, and of course I don't want to start my new role here by sacking someone, but the disciplinary code is quite specific I'm afraid." He waited, prolonging my distress before he continued.
"Of course in my old firm, years ago, when a young woman failed to meet the standards required or transgressed our behavior code, we had a different way of dealing with the matter."
My immediate thought was that there was possibly a chance to save my job...maybe a fine or possibly a probationary period.
"However, I can't imagine that these days a young woman would accept that sort of...how shall I put it...corrective treatment...not in this time of feminist assertiveness."
My hope began to recede.
"I do have some discretion I suppose...I could hold on to this information till tomorrow morning...give you time to consider whether you are prepared to undertake a number of after hours' training sessions, where we could address some of the issues of your poor punctuality and your misinformation on your application form."
I was perplexed at the approach of this new, middle aged man who was my supervisor. On the one hand, he seemed mildly caring and sympathetic while, on the other, glaringly disciplinary and threatening. I wasn't sure what approach would help me in retaining my job. I had begged and implored earlier but he didn't seem to be too much concerned.
"What I suggest is quite simple Jenny, if you turn up tomorrow dressed like you usually do in these jeans and trainers I will contact HR immediately, and proceed with the firm's Disciplinary Code. If on the other hand you want to accept my offer... then I require you to be dressed as follows: White or cream fitted blouse, pleated black skirt, heels and white cotton underwear and our first session will take place tomorrow evening. I leave the decision in your hands."
And then, in finality, "Now I am very busy so would you kindly close the door behind you as you leave."
It was obvious that he didn't appreciate the casual dress that I wore and neither did he get on with the modern day feminists. The middle aged and the elderly, I thought, were all a class apart - always taking us to be disobedient and rebellious. Each word that he uttered kept ringing in my ears. Some of the words were harsh enough to make me red in the face. Some brought a sense of relief too. But, there could be no doubt that there was a veiled threat of dismissal looming over my head.
Yet, I stood as I was, quiet for a few moments, hesitating and wanting to say something more to pacify this man.
What was it that Mr. Smith had said about a dress requirement for the next day? It's not that he was insisting on my going around naked but to discard my usual casual dress and wear something which, I thought, was a bit orthodox. If I had to retain my job, wearing that dress hardly mattered to me. It was only the question of those training sessions after office that would spoil a few of the 'fun-filled' evenings that I indulged in.
"Sir, I thank you for giving me this opportunity to rectify myself. You have been kind ...most kind... and I ...I shall surely try... uhhh ... surely fulfill your requirements without fail," I blurted out.
Mr. Smith remained aloof to my words. He was a busy man and his attention was entirely riveted to the papers on his desk. I waited, hoping against hope that he would be pleased and respond. He maintained his silence.
"I have already noted the dress that I am supposed to wear tomorrow Sir. You shall certainly see me in whatever is the required dress code," I continued to say.
He seemed exasperated as he shuffled a bit on his chair. In the end, there was a look of irritation when he looked up. I held my nerve ... I simply had to keep my job.
"And .. and ... I shall stay back every evening to get my training under you Sir," I said in the most sincere tone that I could, " I am certain that it would be for my best."
++++++
One of the first tasks at home was to see if I had the desired dress for office the next day. The items required were nothing special and I was certain of having these in my home and wardrobe. Back home, I was a trifle disappointed. I didn't have either a cream or a white fitted blouse that Mr. Smith had clearly spelt out, and it was too late to get one now. I rummaged through my clothes and found, to my horror, that the nearest to his chosen color was a beige fitted blouse. I had been well and truly shaken the previous evening and I just prayed that this minor difference would be overlooked.
The next morning I made a concerted effort to be on time by getting up early. It helped that the day was not one on which I went for my part-time job. I left early for office and was in before most. Oh God! Help me! Just let me not lose my job - I was praying for the greater part of the day. I did steal glances at Mr. Smith's glass chamber now and then, hoping to get his attention and show how busy at work I was. But I was least in his mind, as he kept himself occupied with the papers on the table or serious discussions with some of the other staff.
When it was almost five and the rest of the staff were in the process of tidying up and leaving for the day, I remained glued to my papers and files. I could hardly offer an explanation to Betty, my colleague, as to what was so urgent that I had to stay back late. In the end, she just shrugged her shoulders and left.
With the departure of all the staff, there were only two who remained to face the silence - me and my supervisor. I was in no hurry to go to his room - I was scared. He would, in time, call me. Of this, I was certain. I kept wondering what would ensue when I finally entered his chamber for my training. Just at that moment, my extension line buzzed busily.
"My office now please, Jenny" I could hear clearly from the other end and these were as cold as they were threatening. I quickly got up and dashed across to his room, not forgetting to knock and waiting a while before I finally entered.
As soon as I entered the room he looked up once before he pointed a finger at the corner.
"Please sit down at the spare desk Jenny, there is hand written document I would like you to type up and sign please," he said tersely.
Mr. Smith had a task ready for me, rather easy I thought although I had to type a document meant for me. The terms of the document, though slightly indistinct, were a bit binding but I had no choice.
The document read as follows:
"I, the un..(illegible), agree that I have con ...(illegible)..vened the firm's disciplinary policy in manner which would normally result in my dismissal. Mr. Smith has kindly a..(illegible) to give me a number of after hours' training sessions rather than dismiss me.
I agree to undertake each and every instruction and comply with all correctional activities that Mr. Smith requires of me. I will do so without argument or complaint. Should I fail to do so, he will contact HR with details of my contravention of the firm's ...(illegible)nary code and I will be summarily dismissed.
