Year One Pt 04

January 2022

Monday January 3

rd

Well, it's New Year and definitely NOT a happy one. Lucy called me into her office this morning, soon after I got in. She definitely isn't going to sponsor me. Angie phoned her over the weekend several times apparently, trying to persuade her, but she says she has made up her mind. She doesn't want to take on the extra responsibility, especially while there's so much going on at work. I tried saying that I could help with that, but she just said, "Well, that's your job, isn't it? I don't have to get involved with all the faff of sponsorship for that."

I went back to my desk feeling a bit numb. I mean I suppose I had thought it was going to be a foregone conclusion that Lucy took on Angie's role. I didn't really get anything done all morning - just moved paper around really - it just felt like every woman that walked through the office was looking at me - the poor guy that can't get a sponsor.

When I got back from work there was some cleaning to be done and I was busy with it when the door bell rang. When I opened it, Jill Guest was standing outside. She laughed as she saw my overall. "You're wearing a dress!"

I didn't bother to defend myself. "Can I help you?"

"I was looking for Angela Casey," she said. "My mother 'phoned. Sally Guest."

"OK," I said as Angie emerged from the living room.

"Jill! Come on in." Angie called, "Don't mind him." The girl giggled again as she passed me. I assumed she had come down about some New Order party business and I went back to my cleaning. It was about twenty minutes later when Angie called up from the hall. "Do you want to come down here? You can meet your new sponsor."

My reaction was a mixture of relief, and puzzlement. I mean this girl was about fifteen years younger than me, fresh out of University, how could she possibly be qualified to be a sponsor? And that was without even asking why she would want to.

That question was answered by Angie's first remarks. "Jill is moving back from university. She doesn't want to move in with her mother and she's been looking for a place. This one comes with the benefits of having the rent paid and it gets cleaned. She's prepared to take on the responsibility of sponsoring a male, I can arrange a place on a mentoring programme for her, so your problem is completely solved. And, best of all, no decision making needed on your part."

I ignored the jibe. The last thing I wanted to do at this point was to say anything that might disturb what seemed to be a better outcome than the one I had been expecting.

"I'm not anything like as experienced as Angie, I'm afraid. I mean, I've not had anything much to do with New Order at uni," Jill said. "but I'm sure we can make it work."

"Thanks," I said, trying to sound as enthusiastic as she was. "I'm sure it will be fine."

"That's agreed then," chipped in Angie. "I'll get the transfer documents sorted. When do you think you can start, Jill?"

"Early next week if that suits everyone," unexpectedly she looked at both Angie and me.

Angie raised an eyebrow at that, making sure I knew that my opinion wasn't needed. "That will be perfect," she said.

The only good point was that as she was just about to leave Angie pulled my mobile phone from her bag. It turns out the police returned it before Christmas but she hadn't got around to letting me have it back. Jill said she was happy for me to have it - at least it would let her get in touch with me if she needed anything, she said.

Friday, January 14th

Well, Angie has left for her new job and Jill is installed as my new sponsor. Heaven only knows if this is going to work.

Angie and Jill had a meeting before Angie finally left. They were sitting at the table in the dining room and Angie had me standing to one side while she was going through all these documents that she thought Jill needed to have and saying things like, "Well, you'll need to keep on top of this sort of thing" and "I wouldn't let him do that if I were you, no matter what the rules say,". Jill seemed to be nodding very attentively, though whether she'll actually take any notice, I guess we will have to see.

After Angie had finally left - a goodbye might have been nice - Jill said, "Isn't it exciting that she's off to help the Government? I'm really envious. I mean she'll be really involved with all these terrific changes that are coming in."

I'm not sure I share her enthusiasm. I haven't really seen any personal benefit from New Order - quite the reverse with all these restrictions and regulations. I think virtually every man would say the same. I mean apart from, actually the government does seem to be getting things done now and national productivity seems to be improving and inflation is down, which I suppose is all to the good but even so the costs seem hard to justify to me. Quite apart from that I liked having Angie about the place. She could seem uncaring sometimes and she wasn't very sympathetic when I got on the wrong side of the rules but she could be friendly too. And she did try to keep me out of trouble.

Jill seems to be treating the place a bit like a flat-sharing arrangement, which is OK I guess. I'm actually not seeing much of her. She's still in bed when I leave for work and she's usually out in the evening, only getting back after I've gone to bed. It's all a lot easier than when Angie was supervising my every move. Jill isn't anything like as keen on housework either, so I've been able to cut back on how much time that takes.

There's been a few letters from DOSA this week, which I assume have been about the transfer of the sponsorship arrangements. Luckily there don't seem to have been any problems. I got stopped for an ident card check this morning and, while it took a bit longer than usual, it all went through OK - thank goodness.

Angie stopped by this evening to have a talk with Jill. I heard her voice in the living room, "No, get him to get it, he knows where the wine is. You'll spoil him if you don't keep him busy."

Jill appeared and asked, almost apologetically, for a couple of glasses. "Angie's worried that you might not have enough to do." It seemed like my quiet week was coming to an end but at least Jill hasn't shown any interest in the other "benefits" that Angie used to enjoy. I've got enough problems with Lucy when it comes to that. Plus, I guess its nice that Angie still thinks that I need managing.

Saturday January 15

th

It seems like I was right. Jill has obviously taken on, Angie's suggestions. She had me spend the morning clearing up her room. She hadn't done anything since she moved in. There were clothes all over the place and the remains of at least three meals, not to mention the week-old coffee cup with its interesting fungal growth down behind her bedside table. Angie must have told her that I needed watching, because she stood by, hands on hips, scrutinising me, while I cleared it all up.

"Do you want me to do this laundry?" I asked pointing to the pile of soiled clothes that I had collected from around the room.

Jill looked surprised for a moment but then said, "Sure why not?"

As I picked up the clothes, Jill sprawled back on the bed. She really has got good legs but it really wasn't a helpful point at which to notice. I'm not sure if she noticed that I was trying to hide an impending stiffy or not. "This is all right," she said. "Angie was really helpful. Thanks."

It was only later I started thinking. This is crazy. I'm letting myself be passed from one woman to another like this. Angie, Lucy, Jill - how much longer before Jill's mother decides she wants in on the act? Or one of Lucy's friends at work. The trouble is, it's hard to see how I can get out of this.

Sunday January 16

th

Jill had two of her college friends round last night. Jill asked me to go and join them in the living room for a drink, which was a whole new experience. All right I did have to sit on the floor ("Angie says you shouldn't really be allowed on the furniture," Jill said.) but it was good to have something that felt like a normal conversation. None of them really seemed to know much about what New Order had been doing. It seems like it hadn't really changed anything at the University yet although Jill says that they were just getting started on a programme of positive selection of females for the teaching staff. For the whole of last term the men had studied alongside women just as before. Jill said she'd been surprised when she came back home and her mother told her about how her father's business had been signed over and how her mother was running things. One of Jill's friends said that a boy she'd been seeing had got an internship which had a sponsorship scheme going with it too but some of the others were on Government sponsorship (from what they said, I'm pretty sure I'm right to be trying to avoid it) because they'd come out of Uni with qualifications that weren't any use for the sort of jobs men get employed for now.

One other thing, Jill said she'd been reading about how current government employment policies were wasting talent by preventing men from doing certain jobs. There'd been some survey or other that showed firms expected productivity to fall in the short term. I think that's the first time I've heard a woman criticise New Order since the election.

Monday January 17th

In work today, Lucy gave me some stuff to work on that was quite disturbing. It was to do with the South Merryside project. Apparently we won the contract and now we're getting started on the procurement and service implementation. Normally that would be down to Service Delivery but for some reason Service Planning is having to do it. I was working on the list of existing assets. Some of it was what you'd expect for a detention facility, I guess; there was a schedule of equipment for each of the cells, furniture for the offices and stuff for the education and exercise centres.

The alarming stuff was on a page headed "Restraint Regime". It listed things like dog cages, leg irons, electric shock collars, leg spreaders and neck shackles. I mean, what possible sort of facility needs stuff like that?

I'm beginning to think that Harry was right when he was looking to leave the country. The trouble is I don't know how I'd even start. I'm pretty sure that if I turned up an airport with my passport I wouldn't just be able to buy a ticket.

I've had an idea. Up until now the problem is I haven't had any money. So, even if I'd wanted to get out of the situation here, I couldn't see how I could. Angie used to insist that all the household shopping was done on a credit card, but I don't think Jill is quite as well organised. I've suggested that it would be easier for her if I had a housekeeping fund added to my cash card. Plus it seems like she's got sod all idea of how much stuff costs and she certainly hasn't checked the card statements this month (if she does, I'll just say I'm saving the surplus in case of emergencies), so over the next few weeks I'll build up a couple of hundred quid on the account. Then I've just got to find out how to turn it into cash and disappear. But to where?

I tried looking for my passport. I'm sure it was in the desk in the living room but it's not there now. I can't find it anywhere.

Tuesday January 18

th

I've decided that I'm going to try to get in touch with Harry, assuming he's still in the country. I went back to the cafe where I'd seen him back in October but the bloke behind the bar said he hadn't been in for a long time. I wasn't sure I believed him though. I'll go back again in a few days and try again.

I keep thinking someone is watching me, but I'm pretty sure that is just paranoia. As I was walking back from the cafe I suddenly heard the sound of police siren and an MCF officer in leathers sped by on a motor bike. She wasn't looking for me at all but it scared me, even so. I'm not cut out for dissident activity, if that is what this is.

Jill was out on her "sponsor's induction course" this evening. It was something Angie had set up with the local New Order party branch. About eight o'clock, Jill's mother, Sally turned up. She said she was looking for her daughter.

I wasn't sure what to do. Sally was obviously dressed up for an evening out - fur cape around her shoulders and a long silk dress."Would you like to come in and wait, errr..," I began unsure how she would want to be addressed.

"Mrs Guest is fine. I know taking your husband's name is seen as odd these days but it was usual when we got married and I suppose I'm used to it." She seemed to think about it for a moment but then said, "Well, that sounds like a nice idea but I don't have time. Although it might have been be fun with my husband in the car."

That sounded like she thought I was propositioning her, which I really wasn't, but I didn't think I should say anything apart from, "I'll tell her you called. Can I say anything else?"

"No, that's all right." She turned to go back to her car. I could see her husband standing by the rear passenger door, waiting for her. "Jill was right, you know. You're sweet."

Jill came back with a whole pile of stuff to read and work through. I hope she's not going to take the whole sponsor thing as seriously as Angie did. I told her that Sally had called. "She's incorrigible!" she said when I related our conversation which made me think my assumptions about her were right.

Wednesday January 19

th

I saw Angie on television this morning! It turns out that Nina Henning has been appointed to some role as a Junior Minister in the Department of Home Affairs, looking after something called "Rehabilitation & Reform". Anyway she was being interviewed outside the Houses Of Parliament and there in the background was Angie, looking very efficient & professional. I wonder if I need to tell Lucy about that. I suppose that some people might think there was a conflict of interest if I'm working on Home Affairs stuff given that Angie was my sponsor.

An odd thing. There was an envelop on my desk this morning. When I opened, it there was a ticket for an exhibition that's on in the local library. It wasn't something I'd have thought of going to - I'm not much into art and this was something about the works of artists called Stanton and Montorgeuill - and it didn't seem like it was something Lucy would be suggesting. Then I noticed the initial "H" on the bottom.

I spoke to Lucy about where Angie was working now. She didn't seem to think it was a problem given she isn't my sponsor any longer. She said, "Well done for telling me though." I did feel a BIT patronised.

Wednesday January 26th

I have just had the most embarrassing morning of my life. Lucy told me she need me to help at a meeting on the MCP bid. There was Lucy who was running it and five other women mainly, I think, from Service Delivery.

After I got there, Lucy got out a box and put it on the desk. "These are some of the devices we will be managing if we win this bid," she said opening it up.

Inside were half a dozen different designs of cock restraint. Some of them looked as if they had been specifically designed for the new system, but two of them looked like existing products that the electronic identity mechanism had been added to as an after thought.

"I thought," said Lucy, that it would be a good idea if you could see these devices before you write your parts of the bid document. Some of them are going to prove more reliable than others, and while that isn't specifically our problem it probably will lead to more customer support calls and the like, as you will all know."

The other women around the table were all nodding as though they thought Lucy's idea was helpful.

"And David here, can show us how they work in practice."

It was news to me be suddenly I had six women staring at me with an expectant air. Lucy held up one of the devices, a chromed steel cage with a thick bar that locked around the neck of the ball sack. "Perhaps you could could start with this one David?"" she said.

Well I wasn't very happy but it was obvious that I had very little choice and when Lucy said, "David,

please

don't keep everyone waiting any longer." I dropped my trousers and pants and fitted the damned thing on. It felt cold and uncomfortably rigid.

"Lift your shirt tails up, David," Lucy ordered, "so everyone can see." She turned to the audience. "This is probably going to be the most commonly used one according to the Ministry. "

And that was just the start. She had me try on all six, including one that was basically just a steel tube (One of the girls remarked, "Ooooh that will be really painful if he gets any ideas won't it?" while crossing her legs provocatively. I'm pretty sure she did that deliberately and yes it was.) and another one that was made from a luminous pink plastic. The last one was more of a wire cage and the most uncomfortable. Unfortunately it was this one Lucy chose to use for demonstrating the tracking app and anti-tamper detection system that she'd installed on her phone so I had to keep it on for quite a while. Then it was only after Lucy had finished talking about it that she realised she didn't seem to have the key to unlock it.

This seemed to amuse her audience greatly and the fact that I was getting pretty annoyed at their laughter didn't help. In the end she found the key in the box and produced it with a flourish to set me free. I was even more annoyed when she said, "Come on, David, can't you take a joke?"

Needless to say the rest of the room found it hilarious; me less so.

Thursday January 27th

I really felt I had to talk to Human Resources after yesterday. It can't be right that I have to put up with something like that. Mrs Harris wasn't able to see me until the end of the day and I was a bit rushed because of needing to get my bus back to avoid the curfew but I explained what went on.

Her first reaction wasn't encouraging. "They do have to try these things out you know and they could hardly have tried it on a woman, could they?" Still, she did say she would look into it.

Friday January 28th

I went along to the exhibition in the library at lunchtime. There was a snooty-looking girl sitting at the reception desk when I got there who peered over her glasses at me, looked at my ticket and then nodded at the sign on the wall saying, "Only Accompanied Males - 12:00 to 13:00".

It was 12:50 so I said, I'd wait if that was OK. She said "Whatever" and went back to whatever it was she was reading. Ten minutes later, Harry came in, walked straight past me without saying a word and into the exhibition.

"I guess it's open now," I said to the receptionist, and followed him in.

He was standing by a big panel with a potted life history of the two artists. "I thought this would be a good place for a chat. I don't think there'll be too many visitors. Most of us get enough of this stuff in everyday life, don't we."

I nodded.

"How's the job going?"

"OK, I guess but I keep thinking I ought to quit and find some way of getting out of the sponsorship thing. Did I tell you I got a new sponsor? How come you didn't leave anyway?" We went on talking as we walked along the gallery. Montorgeuil's pictures had a sort of old-world, European charm to them but Stanton's were all brash American, sharp edged images.

"Well, in the end, I felt there was more fun to be had here. There's a few people that think this whole New Order thing can be turned over, if they try hard enough. You

can

get out of the country if you're prepared to put up with some rough travel. I've got some friends that got out through Scotland. Walked overland to Aberdeen, living rough and then hopped a fishing boat to Norway. You could get down to the South Coast and try getting across to France but from what I've heard the French are charging rip-off prices for the crossing and you're not sure of much of a reception at the other end - they were pretty upset about the whole way Brexit worked out and they don't see why they should bend over backwards for British political refugees now. Even if you're up for that you've got to ask yourself what you're going to do when you get there."