Free Anywhere's Better Than Here by Zöe Venditozzi

couple of hours and just as she was giving her mop a rigorous squeeze, Pat appeared at the doorway.
    â€˜â€˜That’s time for your break. We’re all having a cuppa in the staff room.’’
    Laurie pushed her trolley after Pat. She parked up with two other trolleys outside the cleaners’ staffroom while Pat held the door open for her.
    â€˜â€˜Now, Laurie, you know Margaret already,’’ said Pat indicating where Margaret sat, eating a sandwich. Margaret looked up and tried to smile, but a piece of egg mayonnaise started to fall out of her mouth and she scooped it up with one hand whilst doing a little wave with the sandwich. Pat pointed to a plump young woman and smiled. ‘‘And this is Marie.’’ Marie was about Laurie’s age and she beamed up at Laurie.
    â€˜â€˜Take a seat Laurie. You must be knackered,’’ said Marie, half rising from her chair. ‘‘I know I was when I first started.’’
    â€˜â€˜Aye,’’ said Pat, ‘‘knackered from talking!’’
    The three women all roared with laughter. It was strangely reminiscent of coffee time at BT. Why did women do this when they got together? Break time was more tiring for Laurie than working. She found it hard to work herself into hysteria over lame jokes and comments about the other women and their boyfriends and their superiors. It was always taking the piss and making a joke of things. She felt as if women in break rooms took their cue from dramas about women during the war, making the best of a bad situation.
    She’d have to find a way to avoid breaks in here.
    â€˜â€˜Would you like a biscuit Laurie?’’ asked Marie pointing to a packet of digestives on the table between the seats. Laurie hadn’t thought to bring a snack with her and was ravenous.
    â€˜â€˜Yes please.’’
    â€˜â€˜Take a few,’’ said Marie, ‘‘please – it’s all the less for me.’’ She patted her stomach. She was slightly overweight and had the look of a dinner lady about her; Laurie could imagine her with a ladle.
    Laurie finished the biscuit and looked around. It was just a room with six lockers and a little kitchenette with a sink, kettle and microwave.
    â€˜â€˜This is very civilised,’’ she said. A tray sat on the table with the milk jug, the teapot and a sugar bowl with sugar cubes in it. Marie and Pat were drinking from cups and saucers.
    Marie beamed.
    â€˜â€˜Everyone has their own cup, you can use one of the day shift cups until you bring your own in, if you like.’’ Humming to herself, she rinsed the yellow cup under the tap and gave it a wipe with a tea towel. ‘‘Would you like tea or coffee?’’
    â€˜â€˜Tea please,’’ said Laurie smiling up at Marie who stood slightly stooped over her as if she was working in a care home and Laurie was some old dear sitting in a wing chair.
    Marie poured slowly and carefully. Pat and Margaret watched her. Laurie did too, feeling soothed by Marie’s graceful movements. She lifted the milk jug and looked at Laurie. Laurie nodded and in went a stream of white.
    â€˜â€˜Sugar?’’
    â€˜â€˜No thanks.’’ Laurie almost wished she did take sugar so she could hear the plink of the cubes into the cup.
    Marie handed over the cup to Laurie, a look of anxiety and pride mingled on her shiny face.
    Laurie took a sip.
    â€˜â€˜Perfect.’’
    Marie beamed again. Laurie could tell that this tea tray and the cups and saucers had been Marie’s idea. Laurie wondered what Marie’s life was like outside work. Did she keep a perfect house full of china and doilies? She seemed too young to care about those sorts of things. But it must be nice to live in a proper, organised house where there was a way of doing things and a routine for times like dinner and breakfast. She’d like to live in a house with