Day eight: Summoned

Barry entered Jeffrey Drum’s office with the usual sense of trepidation. “It’s never a good sign when you’re summoned like that”, he confided to me.

Drum stood by the window while Barry sat in a chair that must have been designed for toddlers.

‘‘You’re ambitious, Barry”, Drum lied. “Where do you see yourself in five years’ time? And where do you see CTT&Co?”

Barry knew ambition existed, but not on any planet he’d visited.

“Still here, I expect”, he said. “There’s plenty spare office space, and years to run on the lease”.

Drum explained he was thinking more of personal and business development.

“The second decade of the 21st century; what does it hold for us all?” pressed Drum.

“Lots of new clients?” Barry wondered.

Drum winced like a man who’d dreamed of heaven and woken up in Hartlepool.

“How will we get those clients, Barry?”

Barry suggested Yellow Pages and a bigger name-plate on the door. He was praying Drum wouldn’t ask how he saw the practice manager’s role developing - he hadn’t a clue, or if he had it would be wrong. In Barry’s experience, his responsibilities expanded proportionately to reductions in those of his line manager. However, Drum asked instead about his team. Barry thought Silas was big-headed and Cressida a bit dim; he felt she missed floristry but doubted whether floristry missed her.

“In strictest confidence, of course,” he added, realising all too late that, without warning, he was being appraised. Appraisal to Barry was like strychnine to moles.

Drum shook his head.

“No, Barry, you’re missing partner potential! Spotting partner potential is central to your role”.

Equally central, it seemed, was finishing the Tams return and finding out about call-centre charges, especially the latter. Barry failed on both counts and Drum tut-tutted.

“No cushy number for you in Rajkot, my lad”.

Barry’s mind clouded like tea with sour milk. He left Drum’s office sensing there were forces closing against him. For probably the first time ever, he didn’t want to be at work, he wanted to be at home with Erin, seeing if Clarice really could read. His sense of persecution redoubled when Cressida returned from town and asked for an appointment with him, apparently to ‘discuss career pathways.’ (‘Yikes!’ yelped Barry inwardly). Cressida’s CV was a map with few pathways but many random cul de sacs.

“Are you leaving us?” he asked, proving that hope never dies.

“No”, she replied. “I mean career pathways here”.

Barry didn’t know of any vacancies.

“There aren’t any”, said Cressida. “Yet”.

What’s Cressida after? Don’t miss next week’s bombshells!