Lindsay shook her head. “You’ve lost me,” she said. “I need the idiots’ guide.”

Pauline grinned. “Sally’s the expert on that.”

Sally leaned back, closed her eyes and recited. “A company pension fund is financed by contributions from employers and employees. The money is invested to provide pensions. If a fund accumulates more money than it needs to fulfil its existing obligations, there are various options. One, improve benefits and entitlements. Two, the employer takes a pensions holiday and suspends his contributions till the surplus is eaten up. Three, the employer gives the employees a pension holiday, which is, in effect, a pay rise funded out of the pension fund, a useful option in times of recession when business is bad and a rise can’t be paid for out of current profits.”

“Alternatively, the boss-man takes the whole kitty, blows it on new toys, then jumps off the back of his yacht. This is known as ‘doing a Maxwell,’ and is, unfortunately, slightly less than legal,” the young woman in black chipped in.

Pauline took up the tale again. “So we suggested they give us a pension holiday too, since that was the only way we were going to get a rise, given the state of the union finances. They said no. But now they’ve actually done their sums, they’ve decided to shed a lot more jobs than they’d originally planned. And surprise surprise. Every single one of us who’d kicked off about the pension situation is on their hit list. Me included.”

Lindsay drained her first can and crushed it in her fist. “Wild,” she said. “Surely the redundancies are voluntary?”

Sally snorted. “You were one of the ones that got the golden handshake from the Daily Nation in their new technology purge in’86, weren’t you?”

“More gilt than golden,” Lindsay said. “Yes, I was one of the lucky ones, though it didn’t feel like it at the time.”

“And wasn’t that supposed to be a voluntary deal?” Sally demanded.

Lindsay popped the top of her second Bud and took a long swig. “I take your point,” she said finally. “Voluntary as in press gang.”

“Exactly. And Tom Jack managed to make that shitty Daily Nation stitch-up look like the best possible deal for the majority. Now he’s using what he learned back then to shaft the union’s own staff. Anyone who looks like they might be a trouble-maker is going out the door,” Sally said.

“So I’m supposed to accept the tin handshake gracefully, as of the end of next month,” Pauline said.

“They won’t get away with it,” the woman in black said defiantly. The others looked at her as if she’d dropped in from the planet Out To Lunch. “Well, they won’t,” she added, uncertainly.

“I take it there’s action planned?” Lindsay said.