“Oh Josie. Give me strength. There’s another seven of them out there before I can go home. Look at them - all sitting there, waiting for their turn. Look how downcast they look. Resigned even. I have to spend the afternoon playing God again.”
“You’re being a tad melodramatic Mel. Grab a cup of coffee. Then face them.”
Mel went into the kitchen and leant against the bench whilst the water boiled. She didn’t know how much longer she could do this job. Hopeful person after hopeful person but there were only so many visas. And they all took years longer to process than what the applicants wanted.
Mel could see Vlad in the waiting room. And Ibrahim and Maeve. The others she didn’t immediately recognize. She’d have to look at the files to see what they were here for.
Mel realised that not recognizing people, though, meant that those people were in the early stages of their application. She could probably give them some homework to do and make another appointment a couple of months down the track. They would be the easier appointments this afternoon.
Vlad, on the other hand, was more anxious every time she saw him. Ukrainian, he was desperate to bring his sister and her family out to Australia. Each time Mel saw Vlad, it was harder and harder to get him to leave her office.
Ibrahim. He was chasing permanent residency. It seemed like every time he got close, the rules changed and he was back to square one again.
Maeve, she was here on behalf of her brother, Dougall. He had a software business in Ireland and was self-funding his immigration. Maeve couldn’t understand the hoops that Dougall and his family were being put through. To be honest, neither could Mel. It was as if we didn’t want entrepreneurial people to come to Australia with their businesses and employ people.
Mel couldn’t quite get her head around the red tape she had to wrap Dougall in. It seemed to her that Dougall (and others like him) were being pushed to the brink. Maybe it was some kind of endurance test? A test to see how much they really wanted to move to Australia.
The water boiled. There was no more excuse to delay the afternoon appointments. All seven were sitting there, side by side, mostly with clasped hands, waiting patiently and hoping that today would bring different news. Positive news.
“Mel. Are you right?,” Josie poked her head round the corner into the kitchen. “You’ve been in here a while.”
“Sorry Josie. Coming now.”
“Come on Mel,” Mel said silently to herself. “Let’s just hope none of the poor beggars will be hostile today. Or cry. Crying is the worst.”
“Vlad. Come in,” Mel ushered Vlad into her stuffy, windowless office. “Let’s have a look at where the process is up to.”
Mel glanced at the clock.
2pm.
Three hours.
Seven hopefuls.
Seven dreams to crush.
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