“Hold the handle on the doors so they can’t get out!” The fat lady screamed.
“Don’t worry, this is what we do when they play up and won’t go to bed, they struggle with the door a bit but they settle after a while,” said the skinny one, sensing my distress.
“I…I…can’t do it,” I said, lightly touching the door handle, terrified to actually clasp it firmly.
“Come on love, this is the job, you’ve only been here five minutes, there’s no other way to keep ‘em in their rooms,” said the fat lady, gripping the handle tightly and leaning backwards using all of her body weight to keep the door shut.
“I’m gonna kill meself” screeched John. “I’ve got a blade right here, gonna do it, you’re fucking cunts, the lot a' ya!”
“Yeah, well no one will miss you mate, so just go right ahead, cleaning up your blood will give us all something to do,” said the deputy manager, who had just decided to step in before leaving to go home from his afternoon shift.
“You fucking wanker, all you fucking cunts are the same,” screamed Stephanie. “You only work here for the money, no one really gives a crap about us, why the fuck do you think we sleep all day and don't wanna go to bed at night? Fuckwits the lot a' ya!”
As the fat lady appeared to adjust herself for a tighter grip on John’s door handle, the light in the corridor began to flicker, occasionally illuminating her vengeful face.
“John! Are you alright in there?” I said, worried that he may have carried out his threat, there was no response.
“Oh don’t worry about him, he’s a big bloody drama queen, you just worry about yourself love, otherwise you won’t last more than a shift in this job,” said the skinny lady.
“Yeah, that’s right, I’m a fucking drama queen,” screamed John. “You tell her fuckface, tell her how you like to get it on with deputy David in the office when he’s on his sleep-in shift, you dirty pair a' cunts, not much fucking caring goes on round 'ere!”
The next morning, the silence in the office was stifling. I opened the window to breathe in the bird song, giving myself time to think about how to approach last night's disaster.
“Do you think we could have done things differently last night?” I said, trying cautiously to address the issue.
“What do you mean?” The deputy manager said, looking at me suspiciously.
“Well what we did, I mean…holding the doors like that, could be seen as abusive as bad things usually happen to these kids at night in their rooms,” I said, choosing my words carefully.
“Well what would you have done differently?” asked the fat lady.
“Well isn’t there a way of talking to them, or just allowing them to walk off the unit if they need to?” I asked.
“Look love,” said the fat lady matter-of-factly, “We have a duty of care, we can’t just let ‘em walk off the unit especially in the evening. They need to be in their rooms at a certain time and if they’re not, then that’s what they get.”
The deputy manager didn’t say anything, he busied himself with papers at the desk and kept looking at the clock.
“Oi cunts!" John shouted, kicking the office door several times, "You’re always hiding away in that fucking office, you’re all fucking lazy cunts, get out 'ere and do the job you’re fucking paid to do! Oh yeah, ha, I forgot you fuckers get paid to do this job.”
"You didn't kill yourself then?" said the deputy manager to himself so only we could hear him, he then returned his focus to the stack of papers on his desk.
The office fell silent and then the phone rang…
“You answer it love, I’ve got last night’s episode to write up plus a 1-1 which is a week late,” said the skinny lady.
“Hello… how can I help you?” I said, shaking slightly.
“Hello Jane, can you come to the office in the next building please?” said the manager.
“Yes, of course, I will come now,” I said, wondering if it was time for my appraisal.
As I sat facing the lady who was in charge of the unit, her self-importance secreted from her pitted skin, her nicotined stained teeth were dressed and uncovered slowly by thin lips as the tongue spat out her loyalty to the others.
“So some of my staff have been saying things,” she said like she was trying to make me confess to something.
“Oh right, what things?” I said, slightly confused.
“Well, I heard there was an incident last night and you refused to help and then had something to say about it? Apparently, you accused them all of being abusive?” she said, ready there with her pen and clipboard to seemingly take notes.
Slightly unnerved, I tried my best to explain. “I…didn’t…I mean…I used the word abusive but…”
“Right well, look, this is an extremely difficult place to work and my staff do what they can to make sure things run as smoothly as they can, so being called abusive is not something I can tolerate. If you want to continue to work here, I suggest you become a team player,” she said, pointing her finger at me.
“I…didn’t directly call them abusive, I just said it could be seen to be abusive and that perhaps we could do something differently next time,” I said, my heart punching at my ribcage, sweat starting to dribble from the corner of my eyebrow and down the side of my nose.
“Look, you're new, I understand that it’s going to take you a while to fit in and know what our procedures are but if you want to continue working here, you will need to know them off by heart and sometimes, you will have to improvise when necessary and when you are called to do so. I suggest you take the next hour to go and read through our procedures and keep up to date with any changes. Do you think you can do this?” she said, placing the pen down on the clipboard to announce the finality of her speech.
“Yes, I do,” I said, my heart now near to an escape from its protective cage.
As I left the office and stepped back onto the noisy unit, I suddenly felt the tears swell. Two dropped heavily, both scraping my cheeks as they splattered on the tiles below; I wished at that moment they could take me with them. I couldn’t let the young people see me like this. Feeling like I had no one to turn to, I walked swiftly towards the direction of my car, wondering how I would deal with what I had witnessed.