Resolution – Sandra 38

 

[For back story go here: Story so far at 30 Nov 2020 and more recent Sandra episodes especially this one.]

[Other back story through in-links.]

“Good job we didn’t say anything, right?” said David over the speaker phone.

New Years Day. Sandra wasn’t strictly speaking at work. Nor was David to be honest but here they were, talking, although Sandra didn’t feel obliged to give the conversation her full attention. If David wanted to justify his company’s pathetic response – or non response – to a momentous occasion, if he wanted his company to keep schtum despite many of their lorries being stuck at the border over Christmas then so be it. If they still didn’t want to welcome or not welcome the Brexit deal at the start of the New Year then so bit it. She’d toe the line and maintain radio silence – aside from this note to show where she was coming from:

“To be honest, David, if this was any other business in a similar situation and being this quiet I would consider quitting,” she said. “The idea that you don’t want to discuss anything with anyone is amazing. You could be a household name right now, headline news. Every time those stories are told without you in them you’re losing ground.”

“Well, thank you for that feedback,” said David, sounding relieved it didn’t go any further. “And please don’t quit just yet. Bill really likes working with you and that’s not nothing.”

No thought Sandra. It’s not nothing. It’s less than nothing. Ben and the others were all effectively having a negative impact on her career, not just pushing her back but digging a hole for her to fall into, concealing her from view, muffling her voice. But if they were going to pay her to not put their name forward for interviews, to not offer editorial quotes and copy then fine. OK? Fine!

The doorbell rang and Sandra swiftly ended the call to go, telling David she’d be back in touch when she was actually working – if they wanted her to do any actual work from Monday next week.

The delivery was a stack of groceries, mailed ordered during a slight panic session on the evening of Christmas Day. She’d got through the day itself in reasonably good spirits, video calling with her family twice, once for a general chat and a second time to play bingo with her niece and nephew. They were quite good at the game, although they had to play twice because the first time Sukie cried because she lost. The second of course she won and Freddie cried because he lost. So that was all fair.

The call had been retrieved slightly by a swift game of Go Get where everyone playing had to Go Get something one of the other players called out. This lasted a good 15 minutes before the things they had to Go Get became a bit more dangerous and problematic than the grown ups would have liked. Sandra was more than happy to log off the call and leave Frankie to pick up the pieces.

The doorbell rang again. 

This time it was a fast food delivery. Sandra had reached the point where just thinking about cooking was enough. Not that she was sick of cooking, but just the thought of it was satisfying that part of her brain. She’d pawed through three or four recipe magazines and books which offered her the best of Yule Tide Feasting and she admired many of the dishes, but she didn’t actually need to cook any. In any case scaling everything down to a single portion seemed a little extreme and tiresome, so she decided to just look at the pictures and blow a cool £20 on getting someone to bike a gourmet burger to her door.

The delivery man came by car which disappointed Sandra a little and made her wish she hadn’t tipped him. She felt short changed, not least by the interactive map that had definitely shown her delivery person to be riding a bike.

Nevertheless she waited for the masked person to drop the food before she picked it up and carried it in her gloved hands indoors. She immediately tipped it out onto a plate and threw the trash unceremoniously out the back door where she’d bag it in the morning. Finally she sat down in front of a black and white film, cut into the burger and waited for the endorphins associated with having food prepared by someone else to kick in.

Sandra had drawn up her New Year Resolutions. They were:

1. Don’t get involved
2. Don’t get taken for a ride
3. Don’t get ill

And the greatest of these was:

      3.  Don’t get ill.