were likely to be one and the same.
“Confidentially, I can inform you that the quilters’ decline was brought to our attention a while ago by another subsidised organisation, to which a number of quilting persons had previously defected. It wasn’t easy, though, to get the quilting office holders to come clean.”
Alan believed he knew the identity of the other subsidised organisation, for the quilters and the cross-stitchers had been subgroups of the same Women’s Craft Association until a falling out – the original cause now long forgotten – had resulted in an irreparable rift.
“Within minutes of the vacancy becoming official, the Christian Fellowship─”
“–currently meeting on Mondays.”
“─indicated they were keen to swap to Fridays, when attendances are higher and there are fewer public holidays.”
“Understandable,” said Alan.
“Until they heard that the Muslims were trying to get Friday, in addition to the Tuesday they already have.”
“The Muslims wanted two days?” said Alan, trying not to appear irrationally concerned.
“They never indicated as much until they mistakenly thought that the Christians were determined to have days at both the beginning and end of the week.”
“Dear me,” exclaimed Alan.
“─at which point, of course, the Christians did indicate a keenness to have both Mondays and Fridays.
“I see,” said Alan.
“But when the belly dancers and cross-stitchers ─”
“─sharing Wednesdays.”
“─and the meditaters and lip readers─”
“─on Thursdays.”
“─found out that the two religious groups both expected a second day…”
“They wanted two, too,” said Alan, “as in, two as well.”
“Or at least one day to themselves, by themselves.”
“Most unfortunate,” said Alan.
“And soon after that, the public speakers, who currently meet off-site, owing to a shortage of venues, registered interest in the spare day.”
“They do have a case,” said Alan.
“As did the bonsai people, who we all thought had disbanded, but had apparently been operating… well… underground, under a different name.”
“That's a surprise,” said Alan, recalling the campaign against the bonsai club a decade before by a group of women passionately opposed to plant torture. He recalled hunger strikes, petitions for and against, threats and counter threats, melees, bra burning (for no obvious reason) police intervention and, finally, removal of the club (in the cause of peace) from the amenities room roster.
“The Christians have indicated they are not prepared to turn the other cheek vis-a-vis the Moslems and, might I say, vice versa.”
Alan tut-tutted.
“Both have stated that they’ll claim discrimination should the other be granted a second day.”
Alan gave silent thanks for the willingness of Hindus, Buddhists, Confucians, Sikhs, animists and devil worshippers to perform their rituals at sites away from the workplace. He was especially pleased that persons engaged in the worship of fertility gods (whose statuary often seemed to feature impossibly distended body parts) had not joined the department in significant numbers.
“The meditaters,” Gulliver continued, “have said all manner of intemperate things and one of the belly dancers made me an offer of an intimate nature that would not have amused Mrs Gulliver, even though, of course, we have been married for many years and are no longer interested in those sorts of activities. As for the crossstitchers – did I mention them earlier?”
“Only in passing,” said Alan.
“They claim their share arrangement with the belly dancers – which came about because the meditaters, Moslems and Christians couldn’t abide chatter during their rites – has run its course.”
“They’ve also got a point,” said Alan.
“And last Thursday morning…” Gulliver shook his head.
“There’s more?” Alan enquired.
“Yes. Last Thursday morning the social committee received an application for the vacancy from a new group calling itself Departmental Embroiderers, which has the same office holders and members as the Cross-Stitch Society: a pathetically transparent attempt to secure a second day under a different banner. Do these people think we are idiots?”
Alan thought it best to treat this question as a rhetorical one.
“If all of that wasn’t bad enough, on Friday I received expressions of interest from a Budgerigar Appreciation Society – I can’t begin to imagine what the cleaners’ union will have say about their gatherings – from a group of highland dancers (do we really want people on-site with swords and a tendency to obstreperousness?) and finally – wait for it – from a wine appreciation group, whose members seem to think that the secretary would be perfectly happy to have a bunch of soaks – proponents, I dare say, of the liquid lunch – staggering around, causing all manner of trouble on departmental premises on Friday afternoons.”
Alan could appreciate the likely problem with budgerigars; the thought of lice, droppings and encephalitis filled him with revulsion. He readily understood, too, the danger in allowing persons with Scottish tendencies to wander about the department in possession of long, sharp objects, and would have owned, if questioned, to an abhorrence of music produced with an instrument that needed to be inflated, squeezed and fingered.
He was mystified, however, by Gulliver’s objection to post-prandial drunkenness because, although he rarely indulged in more than a single glass of claret at a lunchtime celebration, he’d observed that others weren’t so abstemious when presented with an excuse (or any excuse) for excess. Indeed, there had even been occasions in the distant past when he’d observed Gulliver to be incoherent, flushed and feckless while sporting a loosened necktie after the luncheon break.
“And this morning there were still more applications. So, we need a solution to this mess,” said Gulliver, “by the time we all head off for Christmas.”
“One that, presumably, gives them all hope … but no cause for later criticism.”
“Something beyond a “name from hat” exercise,” said Gulliver.
“Of course,” said Alan, thinking that almost any chance-reliant process was likely to unite the contenders in contempt for the social committee, Gulliver and the department.
“Are you willing to take the problem on?” said the first assistant secretary, leaning forward
