give in writing, with my reasons, which I have tried to express very mildly, because I … anyway, there we are.’
He handed her the verbal warning and she read it but he could see that she was too shocked and shaken to take it in.
‘So what happens next?’
‘Your work improves out of all recognition and I’m thrilled.’
‘And if it doesn’t?’
‘I give you a written warning with my reasons.’
‘And if it still doesn’t improve?’
‘I give you another written warning with my reasons, and if it still doesn’t improve I sack you. Reluctantly. Truly reluctantly, Marcia.’
‘I … um …’ She blushed. ‘I don’t honestly think my work will improve that much. My school was shit. I can’t believe the government is as cruel as to want to put me through all those terrible warnings and reasons. I couldn’t stand it. I resign. I’ll give you a month’s notice.’
‘Right … well … if you’re absolutely sure … right.’
‘I am sure. I do have … other ideas.’
‘Right. Well … there we are then.’
He stood up and held out his hand. She stood up too and shook his hand very awkwardly.
‘Oh, incidentally, Marcia,’ he said, ‘before you go, you know the comments I made on the problem of the EU rules for global disposal of unwanted styrofoam, there is one error still.’
‘Oh, lorks, sorry.’
‘Paragraph eight. “We must make sure that there are no barristers between China and the United States.” That should be “barriers”.’
‘Oh, sorry. I’m rubbish, aren’t I?’
She had her hand on the handle of the door but it was as if she’d forgotten how to open it.
‘You said you had other ideas,’ he said. ‘Would you like to tell me about them? Because, I mean, obviously if you need a reference I’ll …’
His voice faded out as he began to think about the difficulty of writing a truthful yet effective reference for her.
‘I thought I might try something utterly different,’ she said. ‘I’ve always wanted to be a writer.’
The man who was no longer in a white linen suit recognised the voice of the Hungarian receptionist.
‘Hello,’ he said. ‘I … um … I came to your hotel to … um … meet … um … my wife, and if you remember I booked a room.’
‘I …’
‘It was a couple of days ago. Lunchtime. I had lunch on my own. She … um …’
‘Oh, yes. She not come, and you book out before you book in, and I not charge.’
‘Thank you.’
‘No problem. And you have lunch.’
‘Yes.’
‘No problem, I hope.’
‘No. Very nice. But I think I may have left a ring in the Gents. A wedding ring. When I got home I realised I hadn’t got it. I took it off in there, because it was hurting, and I think I must have just left it.’
‘Oh, yes. We have.’
‘Oh, that’s marvellous. Thank you.’
‘We will send.’
‘Oh, great. That’s fabulous. My address—’
‘I have the address, Mr Rivers. Lake View, 69 Pond Street, Poole.’
‘Yes. On second thoughts, I’m actually away from home at the moment, not far from your area, I’ll collect it myself.’
‘As you wish, Mr Rivers.’
‘Thank you very much.’
‘No problem.’
He put the phone down, and sighed deeply. It was about a hundred miles each way. Why hadn’t he just said, ‘Look, to be honest, the lady was a married woman, I gave a false address,’ and given his real address?
He still could.
But he couldn’t. Couldn’t do it. It was a question of style. And pride. Couldn’t bring himself to lose face that way. Couldn’t sully Deborah’s reputation by revealing that he had involved her in such a charade, even though neither he nor anyone else would ever see her again.
He began to cry.
People talk about the pressure of routine, the stultifying boredom of routine, but sometimes routine can be very comforting. It was so for James that day, suspended as he was between two difficult meetings with women, between making Marcia resign and having
He handed her the verbal warning and she read it but he could see that she was too shocked and shaken to take it in.
‘So what happens next?’
‘Your work improves out of all recognition and I’m thrilled.’
‘And if it doesn’t?’
‘I give you a written warning with my reasons.’
‘And if it still doesn’t improve?’
‘I give you another written warning with my reasons, and if it still doesn’t improve I sack you. Reluctantly. Truly reluctantly, Marcia.’
‘I … um …’ She blushed. ‘I don’t honestly think my work will improve that much. My school was shit. I can’t believe the government is as cruel as to want to put me through all those terrible warnings and reasons. I couldn’t stand it. I resign. I’ll give you a month’s notice.’
‘Right … well … if you’re absolutely sure … right.’
‘I am sure. I do have … other ideas.’
‘Right. Well … there we are then.’
He stood up and held out his hand. She stood up too and shook his hand very awkwardly.
‘Oh, incidentally, Marcia,’ he said, ‘before you go, you know the comments I made on the problem of the EU rules for global disposal of unwanted styrofoam, there is one error still.’
‘Oh, lorks, sorry.’
‘Paragraph eight. “We must make sure that there are no barristers between China and the United States.” That should be “barriers”.’
‘Oh, sorry. I’m rubbish, aren’t I?’
She had her hand on the handle of the door but it was as if she’d forgotten how to open it.
‘You said you had other ideas,’ he said. ‘Would you like to tell me about them? Because, I mean, obviously if you need a reference I’ll …’
His voice faded out as he began to think about the difficulty of writing a truthful yet effective reference for her.
‘I thought I might try something utterly different,’ she said. ‘I’ve always wanted to be a writer.’
The man who was no longer in a white linen suit recognised the voice of the Hungarian receptionist.
‘Hello,’ he said. ‘I … um … I came to your hotel to … um … meet … um … my wife, and if you remember I booked a room.’
‘I …’
‘It was a couple of days ago. Lunchtime. I had lunch on my own. She … um …’
‘Oh, yes. She not come, and you book out before you book in, and I not charge.’
‘Thank you.’
‘No problem. And you have lunch.’
‘Yes.’
‘No problem, I hope.’
‘No. Very nice. But I think I may have left a ring in the Gents. A wedding ring. When I got home I realised I hadn’t got it. I took it off in there, because it was hurting, and I think I must have just left it.’
‘Oh, yes. We have.’
‘Oh, that’s marvellous. Thank you.’
‘We will send.’
‘Oh, great. That’s fabulous. My address—’
‘I have the address, Mr Rivers. Lake View, 69 Pond Street, Poole.’
‘Yes. On second thoughts, I’m actually away from home at the moment, not far from your area, I’ll collect it myself.’
‘As you wish, Mr Rivers.’
‘Thank you very much.’
‘No problem.’
He put the phone down, and sighed deeply. It was about a hundred miles each way. Why hadn’t he just said, ‘Look, to be honest, the lady was a married woman, I gave a false address,’ and given his real address?
He still could.
But he couldn’t. Couldn’t do it. It was a question of style. And pride. Couldn’t bring himself to lose face that way. Couldn’t sully Deborah’s reputation by revealing that he had involved her in such a charade, even though neither he nor anyone else would ever see her again.
He began to cry.
People talk about the pressure of routine, the stultifying boredom of routine, but sometimes routine can be very comforting. It was so for James that day, suspended as he was between two difficult meetings with women, between making Marcia resign and having
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