Brenda, the former under-boss, has been bumped up a few stripes.
Part of the conditions of my return was that I had to go from Bolton to Wigan. If it isn’t bad enough that I have to come back, I have to fit in with Brenda’s new World Order she has developed in the Wigan office.
Brenda has grown from a tuna-and-onion-breathing to fire-breathing dragon. She is half way between Thatcher and Evita played by Janet Street Porter.
I think she is avoiding me. Occasionally, she’ll flounce past saying “busy, busy, busy,” or she lurks behind a plant and says, “I’ll catch you for a latte and lunch. Honk! Honk!”
Three days on and I feel like I we’ve crashed landed and I’m trapped in a strange place with a beast lurking, making strange noises in the undergrowth.
Its like LOST. With ugly people.