So then...

About Me

Welcome to my blog. My pen name is Eva James. I'm an aspiring writer paying the bills working as a legal secretary. Bullied by my boss in 2008, I looked for another job but the recession hit. Feeling trapped, I started this blog. Trevor Griffiths, legendary theatre, TV and film writer said at the outset, "I like the writing a lot: smart, cool, placed. If you were prepared/able to take your prick of a boss on, you'd marmelise him." I was unaware back then that it would catalogue one of the most extreme cases of workplace bullying in the UK. I've found another job, but am subject to a gagging order. I'm still blogging, of course. Just don't tell the lawyers!

Tuesday, 12 January 2010


This morning I arrived half hour early. Checking the coast was clear, I emptied the shredding into a carrier bag I'd brought and hid it under my desk.

The day before he'd been on about my not having children.

“Thinking about it,” Howard had concluded, “its nature’s blessing. You’re the type of person who should be chemically castrated to prevent them from having kids.”

Then esterday afternoon, he followed me around as I put his files away.

“Do you dream about being raped, Eva?" he said. "I bet you pray for it…wishing - if it has to be rape – please let it be a gang one!”


“I bet when you’re watching Jodie Foster in The Accused you think, “I wish that was me…I wish that was me...”

Howard asked me if I lay awake at night, scared at every sound outside my door. He wanted to remind me that, though I may think I’m too ugly to be raped, there are some deeply sick men out there for whom this wouldn’t matter.

I threw the files in the correct drawers and returned to my desk, only to be followed by Howard. He carried a letter which needed the address changed. Looking thoughtful, he asked for a pen. I handed it over. He scrawled something across the letter. He’d done this before so I knew it was offensive. He took his hand away and showed it to me. I was losing the will to live. I just stared at him. Seeing me at a loss for words he covered the letter up and scribbled further. Again, pulling his hand away – he’d written about my private parts drying up like an old prune. Underneath he’d written how I think women who are raped have all the luck.

Howard showed me everything he’d written. Then he whispered, “I’d better shred this.”

“That’s the best place for it, don’t you think?” I replied.

He pressed the letter to him so no one could see it until he’d safely fed it into the shredder.

“I know you made that mistake about the address, Eva,” Howard announced for the office's benefit. “But, I’m not going to mention it again. I think we should put this whole disgusting matter behind us.”

There were too many people around for me to grab the shredding last night, but I managed to get it this morning. If I can stick the letter back together, I think the whole disgusting matter might come up again in the future.

See you soon,
Eva x


abigail said...

This is so sick hun, it makes me so mad! The only reason I keep reading is because I'm hoping HOWARD gets his arse canned!! Or sued...or fined...divorced...bankruptcy...SOMETHING! Why don't you do something about his harassment?!

-Anonymous Reader

Johanna said...

It is almost unbearable to read.Your dignity shines through.I wonder do this men have children themselves because medical castration sounds the right procedure for them. God pity those in their know of course they picked on you because they were jealous you have the integrity they lack.
I love how you kept the evidence.

Bottom Swirl