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Copyright Oggbashan September 2005 revised July 2014
The author asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.
This is a work of fiction. The events described here are imaginary; the settings and characters are fictitious and are not intended to represent specific places or living persons.
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I couldn't own and run my company without being sometimes not very nice and occasionally nasty. I try to make the nasty part only an act but managing a business isn't always pleasant.
I first met Eleyna about four years ago. She was taken on as an employee in one of my food factories as a production line worker. On my regular walks round that factory I noticed her. She was impossible to miss. The most obvious sign was her headscarf. She always wore one, in different ways each day, not totally covering her hair but enhancing it.
Eleyna is tall and blonde with a slight build. She isn't beautiful but she has the sort of looks that make a man look twice and then a third time before starting to wonder why he is looking so much at this woman who isn't beautiful.
I had been thinking about Eleyna far more often than is good for an employer. Finally, on one of my visits I stopped beside her workstation and spoke to her. I don't remember what I said first, probably something about how did she like the job. Her reply was in clear educated English. That made me ask the second question.
"Why are you working in this job?"
Elenya's reply was that it was the only job she could get. That made me think hard. If that was true, and if she was well educated as she sounded, she must be an illegal immigrant. That would mean real trouble for me and for her. I couldn't afford to employ illegals. I had too many employees to be certain that one or two weren't on forged papers but my personnel department checked as best they could.
The immigration department left my company alone because we tried to comply with the law. If they found one or two of our hundreds of employees were illegals then apart from removing them to a detention centre their department wouldn't prosecute us. They could. They didn't if it was just one or two and we could show that we had done our best to prevent illegals getting jobs with us. The system is stupid. If illegals could register to work legally while their applications were processed then they wouldn't be such a strain on our welfare system. Their employers could help sort the genuine willing future citizens from the workshy and criminal.
But now I had a problem. I suspected Eleyna was an illegal. If I wanted to retain my relative immunity from the Immigration Department then I had to do something to make certain about Eleyna's status. I beckoned to Eleyna's forewoman who was standing at the edge of the group of managers around me.
I took the forewoman away from the group.
"Please tell her, what's her name," I pointed discreetly to Eleyna, "to report to the Personnel Department at two o'clock. Ring Personnel, tell them that I have asked her to come and get an interview room ready for me at one forty-five with her personnel file. Understood?"
The forewoman was obviously frightened of me. She was perspiring despite the chill on the factory floor.
"Yes, Mr Andrews. I will tell Eleyna to be at Personnel at two o'clock."
She struggled with her fear of me.
"Is anything wrong, sir? Eleyna is a good worker. I wish we had more like her."
That sounded good for the forewoman. Despite her fear of me, she had stood up for her worker.
"What's your name?" I barked at her.
"Mary Jones, Sir."
That was a prompt and certain response. Mary Jones wasn't afraid of me for herself but for Eleyna.
"Thank you, Mary. I'm not sure whether anything is wrong or not. I'd like to see you too in the Personnel Department. At three o'clock. OK?"
"Yes, Sir.
I dismissed Mrs Jones. I had noticed the wedding ring on her finger. I beckoned to the factory production manager.
"Alan," I said. "I am pulling that girl off the line just before two and her forewoman at three. Make sure the line is covered."
"Yes, Mr Andrews. Will do."
He wanted to ask why. I let him sweat.
When I had finished lunch in the factory canteen, eating the same food in the same conditions as any of the employees, I dismissed my entourage and went to the Personnel Department. They had the small conference room ready for me and Eleyna's personnel file. I read it and found what I didn't really want to find. Some of her paperwork was forged. They were good forgeries but I had seen too many, more than the Personnel people at this one factory.
I stood up when Eleyna was shown in. The conference room had double-glazing to half of the walls. The staff in the Personnel Department could see us but not hear what we said. There was a recording facility for audio and video. I hadn't switched it on. I asked Eleyna to sit down. She sat, crossing her wrists in her lap.
"Miss Eleyna," I said. Actually I didn't. I used her surname. I won't record it here. Eleyna has relations back home who might object if their name was shown. It was a complicated surname for an Englishman to pronounce. I got it right first time. I could see that Eleyna was surprised.
"We have a problem." I continued.
"We?" she asked.
"Yes. We. I have a problem because I have looked through your personnel file and some of the paperwork is not genuine."
Eleyna looked shocked.
"How can you say that?"
"I'm sorry. I have seen too many similar documents. Your immigration papers are good forgeries but forgeries they are. That is the problem."
"Mr Andrews, I can see that would be a problem for me if it were true. Why did you say that we have a problem?"
"It is true. Your papers are forged. The only way I can prove that is to call in the Immigration Department. I don't want to."
Eleyna looked at me as if I was a slug that had crawled out from under a stone. Her voice showed her contempt.
"And what do I have to do to stop you?"
"Nothing."
"Nothing?" She still sounded disgusted.
"I am not going to call the Immigration Department because I think we can sort out your paperwork between us."
Her face showed what she expected. I held up my hand.
"Not how you think. I am not going to ask you to sell yourself. I am a widower and happy with my life as it is."
That was true. I was happy with MY life as it was then.
"Then what do I have to do?" She was unconvinced.
"I said nothing and nothing is what I meant. Certainly nothing like that. I can't continue to employ you as a factory hand. That would be dangerous for both of us if the Immigration Department found out. However there are other ways that you can stay in this country and earn money – legally. Would you listen while I explain, please?"
"You are the manager. My job is at stake. Of course I have to listen."
"You made three mistakes in those three statements. Firstly, I am NOT the manager. I own the business. This factory and the others are mine. Secondly, your job is not at stake. You have lost it because you are an illegal immigrant on forged papers. Thirdly, you should listen because we can help each other. You do not HAVE to listen. I can arrange for you to be paid and you can walk out of this factory at the end of this shift. I would do nothing to report you to Immigration."
"OK, Mr Andrews, you have convinced me that I should listen. As long as I am being paid to be here I can listen to the owner..." Eleyna hissed 'owner' as if it was a swearword, "...of this factory."
"Would you like a cup of tea? Or coffee?" I asked politely.
"Coffee, please."
I rapped on the window behind my head, held up my hand and made a C with my fingers followed by thumb and forefinger for two. Someone close to the window nodded and rushed off. The coffee arrived a few minutes later.
"You are aware of student visas?" I asked.
"Yes. What good would one be to me? I need to earn money to support myself not pay out money to be a student."
"Maybe. But some student visas allow the student to work and earn for up to twenty hours a week. Did you know that?"
"No, Mr Andrews. It still doesn't help. I can't earn enough in twenty hours a week in your..." She spat out 'your' "...factory to keep myself."
"Probably not. You are employed as an unskilled worker. What are your real qualifications? Assuming of course that you are not who your papers say you are."
"If I say, what will happen?"
"Nothing bad. Humour me. If Elenya is not who her papers say she is, what qualifications might she have?"
"Assuming that, Eleyna might admit that she has a Ph.D."
"In what?"
"European History."
"I suspect something like that. What languages do you speak apart from English?"
"My own, and I am fluent in German and French. I can speak some Italian and Greek but not fluently."
"OK. This is what I think Eleyna could do if she has the Ph.D. and can prove it."
Eleyna nodded.
"I need a tutor for my son Darren. He is fifteen and will be taking his GCSEs next summer, in eight months time. He is a good lad but has two faults. He is lazy and he has a poor opinion of women. His mother was too indulgent and when she died two years ago he felt betrayed. He doesn't listen to women. That is unfortunate because most of his teachers are women. I want you to do two things, if you agree to become his tutor. First, coach him so that he gets good grades in his GCSEs, particularly in English. Secondly, change his attitude to women and to women teachers. Do you think you could do that?"
"How did your wife die?"
"She crashed her car on an icy road. She was driving too fast. She didn't understand that all the safety devices on a car are no use on black ice. I had tried to tell her the limits of cars. So had Darren. Neither of us would get in a car she was driving."
"Poor woman."