Saturday afternoon, and I journey to a colleague's house - a colleague who is currently on sick leave. I have to catch two trains to reach my destination, and I descend onto a platform in what appears to be the middle of the country. It is so quiet that the only thing I can hear is birds singing.
The walk to her house is a 20 minute sojourn under leafy canopies and I am so early that I have time to sit in a pleasant park for half an hour and read my book (I am nearing the end of it, and although I'm dimly aware there is a sub-plot about espionage and the Irish revolution, I have managed to skim over most of this in favour of descriptions of sea battles...)
It's lovely to see my work friend, and within half an hour we are joined by another colleague who lives just a few roads away. It's the first time our particular juxtaposition of three co-workers has ever spent significant time together, and as the afternoon wears on and we sit under a beach umbrella in the garden nibbling at a picnicky array, we talk and talk and talk...
And things start to emerge into the light of day. Things which The Hierarchy wants to keep hidden.
- The previous complaints which have been made against Spiteful Manager, making a mockery of Personnel's assertions that he is whiter than snow.
- Further evidence of Line Manager's bullying behaviour towards others
- The utter ineptitude of Former Boss's "efforts" to ensure appropriate colleague behaviour.
We sit in silence for a few minutes, contemplating the swinging Pendulum of time, and the horribly deep Pit into which our department appears to be falling. Then we give ourselves a little mental shake, pass round the strawberries and muffins, and start talking about families, holidays and our home lives.
We all know, you see, that there is no point in trying to "do" anything about what is happening. They are both aware that my own attempt to challenge bullying has had a devastating impact upon my well being, and that I am not prepared to ever raise my head above the parapet again. So why should they?
No - from now on we will be taking the path of least resistance. We'll be submitting requests to work from home, taking all our holiday entitlement, and throwing the odd sickie when we fancy a few days break from the malice, and spite, and crap.
When I glance at my watch, I am amazed to see it is now 6pm (I had told Husband this was the time I would be home). The journey back is slightly slower and more complicated than the journey out, but I have plenty to think about.
I think most particularly of the email Personnel sent me, threatening disciplinary action if I breathed a word about their investigation of Spiteful Manager's malicious behaviour towards me (the organisation's craven conclusion was that despite this having been proven, they did not consider it a disciplinary matter...) Personnel's final instruction was that I was not allowed to say "anything detrimental to Mr X's interests".
I politely pointed out that I felt being bullied and humiliated until I became ill were pretty detrimental to my interests.
But really.
What's the point of talking when no-one is listening?
It's enough of a horror film as it is.
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