Chapter 9 Redundancy

 Monica just couldn’t believe it. She was invited into a Human Resources office room. This new girl, Paula, was sitting there with a complete poker face. Next to her, was Nancy, the HR head, a plump UK immigrant, who usually went red in the face for no apparent reason, but now was pale and looked nervous. 

Monica just couldn’t believe it. This Paula might have been the age of Monica’s older daughter. She wasn’t even thirty. And this paper. A white piece of paper was lying in front of Monica ready to be signed. 

Monica was reading line after line, again and again, as if the words and their meaning omitted her completely. She didn’t understand. 

‘I don’t understand,’ she admitted with a shaking voice, ‘I don’t understand…’

Paula pouted, and seeing that Nancy was getting red in the face (nothing new, the blood just came back to her), took over.

‘It means that your position is shifted to India. Your work is no longer necessary and we are letting you go.’

‘Letting me go where?’

‘Wherever you want to go, dear. According to the contract we owe you a three-month leave, which we are willing to pay in advance. I’m sure you’re colleagues will help you collect your personal belongings from your desk and Jean, our security man, will help you to the door. We are grateful for your service to the company and we hope that we can separate on friendly terms.’

‘Just like that?’

Paula pouted. But she didn’t answer. She made Monica sign the paper and leave. 

That day at home, Monica was undergoing a nervous shock. She thought that it would never concern her, but in all honesty, it was worse than the day when her husband abandoned her for a younger woman. It was worse than that day her younger daughter announced that she wanted to move to Australia, and Monica was left to see her just a few times a year. It was worse than the day her beloved dog, Ulio, was hit by a car and died on her lap. 

DADANTI employed a twenty-something bimbo, who had no idea what they were doing there, to make her redundant after thirty years of professional and meticulous service. And from the start, Monica was a good and conscientious employee. She cared. She stayed overtime. She devoted her personal time to think about the products. She mourned failed initiatives (Lovagina) and celebrated successes (The Unicorn Collection). She was there at every event, at every business trip, at every Christmas meeting. She lived this work. And at the age of fifty-nine, she was deprived of everything she loved so much. And there was nothing left. 

She recalled her friends, who at some point suffered from job burnout and spent months on doctors’ leave. She reminded herself of her cousin Teresa, who suffered from a year-long depression after she was made redundant a couple of years ago. She even remembered the time when her own daughter was fired on the day of her childbirth, which made Monica traumatized and shocked how they were dealing with people these days. And soon, something like this happened to her. 

And possibly, if there had been a loving husband to comfort her at this time, possibly, if there had been a dog to be taken care of and cheer her up, if her two daughters had been around (both now residing in far-away Australia), she would have had it easier. Finally, if there had been a psychologist to talk to her, she might have come to terms with Paula’s decision. It wasn’t only her who was made redundant. There were others. But they didn’t fire Adam, who was stealing food from the kitchen, or Michael, who was smoking pot in the courtyard when Kirk was away. Only her duties were redirected to India, where they could be done by people with no experience, for ten times less money. 

And Monica just couldn’t deal with it. She couldn’t rationalize it. Her life was her work and that was taken away from her. What could she do? Change her profession a few years before retirement? Find another company with a team of twenty-somethings eager to learn and change everything that proved to be good? Start from the beginning? 

No, it wasn’t for her. Even sheer thoughts made her feel wrapped in a bubble wrap with no possibility of escape and no room for oxygen. 

And the next day, not being entirely herself, and having no better things to do due to lack of responsibilities, she developed a plan.