I have been one of ten cleaners starting today. we all match. a roomful of green and white striped minions that they assume need educating on how to use a mop properly. I imagine that’s what we are to them, nothing but cheap grunts, incapable of doing anything more with our lives.
“We pride ourselves on our professional standards,” our new line manager tells us. “Everything must be perfect. Always perfect.”
My fantasy of being assigned to Mr Henley Jnr’s office gets a reality check as they divide us into pairs. Canteen kitchen, that’s where I’m assigned. Scrubbing grease and cooking oil, taking out the food waste, and disinfecting the main employee toilets along the corridor. Toilets that I doubt Alexander Henley ever uses.
I’m paired up with a girl called Sonya, and we head up towards
