Drama Collection

The Cleaner

Janet drags the knackered hoover up the flight of stairs to the third level office floor. The soles of her feet ache sharply but she pushes on, eager to get the last floor done and get home. She pushes open the door and sets the cumbersome hoover down, allowing herself a moment to catch her breathe. She glances an eye over the various cubicles, feeling a shiver in her spine. Thirteen years Janet has worked here as a cleaner and in all that time she still hasn't got used to the unoccupied building at night. The lack of people, low buzz of the drinks machine and overhead lights adding to that eerie feel. Not that it is much better in the day. Zombie like office workers at every work cubicle, shuffling their weary carcasses to and fro, repeating the daily monotony of their lives. She shuffles wearily between the cubicles, heading for the small kitchen at the back of the floor. Janet operates her cleaning routine in a very specific order. First she hoovers the kitchen before moving into the bathrooms. This is the worst part of her job. The ladies' toilets aren't too bad but the gent's are horrible. This is also by far the most tiring of all her duties and despite it draining all her energy she does it second for solely the fact of getting it out the way. Lastly she takes the hoover round the various cubicles. This is a fairly easy job but tedious, as many of the cubicle desks are littered with empty sweet wrappers and apple cores. Out of the corner of her eye she notices a cubicle with its light still on. A young, lanky man with a couple of zits and greasy hair sits at his computer, tapping away dully at his keyboard. His dead eyes track slowly across the monitor, like a sloth hanging lazily from a long branch. Upon hearing the rattle of the hoover, the young man glances over the top of his monitor. Janet pauses.

'Do you mind if I...' She asks, gesturing around the office floor.

'Oh...go ahead.' The young man mumbles, turning a little red.

Janet picks up on the young man's social anxiety and nods quietly before moving off. The young man returns his attention to the monitor, occasionally glancing at Janet shyly from time to time.

The young man waits outside the lift doors, drumming his fingers agitatedly against his leg. The doors scrape open.

'That sounds promising.' The young man mutters under his breath and steps inside.

He is reaching for the ground floor button when he catches sight of Janet hurrying towards him, struggling with the cumbersome hoover.

'Wait.' She gasps.

The young man debates whether or not to hold the lift before finally pressing down the door button. Janet bustles inside the lift and throws down the hoover, breathing hard.

'Thank you.'

'No worries.'

The doors close and the lift starts to slowly descend. Janet leans on the lift wall and massages her side, nursing an aggravated stitch. She glances at the young man and gives a tired smile.

'Long day.'

The young man gives a polite smile and looks forward. A silence falls between them. Janet's eyes travel down to the young man's hand drumming against his leg. The action reminds her of something or someone but for the life of her she can't think what. The lift lurches suddenly and Janet, thrown off balance, topples into the young man. The young man grabs hold of her arm. The lift screeches to a halt and the lights flicker on and off eerily. Janet and the young man exchange dubious looks before realizing their closeness to one another and move away quickly.

Janet and the young man sit either side of the lift, both looking extremely shattered and fed up. The young man is listening to a music player, whilst flicking uninterestedly through a magazine. Janet inspects the underside of her nails, disgusted by what lies there. Her stomach rumbles loudly, longing for her dinner she knows is sitting in the oven at home. To stave off the hunger she rummages around in her cleaner apron and pulls at a pack of chewing gum. She offers one to the young man but he doesn't notice.