Finish a task
“And so, to celebrate the completion of the fly-tipping fines project—finally!—we’re going for drinks at the Shovel after work,” Jeff said, trying to sound natural while reading off index cards. “I must stress that in accordance with council diversity policy these will have to be self-funded and attendance is not compulsory. If you have any special dietary requirements, please let us know and we’ll try to move the venue. This project was a real team effort, with everyone contributing to its success and…” Annie tuned out. She’d already spent much more of her life thinking about fly-tipping than she could ever have imagined. She was surprised they were going to a pub—the council were so keen to avoid possible cultural offense they’d moved the Christmas do to January, when no one felt like celebrating at all.
“Are you going?” Fee was standing in front of Annie, whispering over Jeff’s drone.
“Oh! I don’t know.” She’d routinely avoided all work events for years now. “You?”
Fee had dark circles under her eyes. “Well, I suppose…if you were going…”
Annie thought about having to make awkward conversation with Jeff, who only talked about going to the gym and work, and pretend she didn’t loathe Sharon, and veer away from Tim’s halitosis. But on the other hand, she had no other plans. “I suppose we could. Just for one.”
“Just for one,” Fee agreed. She smiled, the strain on her face melting away. “It’s worth celebrating the end of it. I don’t know about you, but if I never hear the phrase fly-tipping again, it’ll be too soon.”