Page 16 of One Summer Weekend
Chapter Six
Next morning I returned to Leo Components weighed down with baggage: laptop, suitcase and the remains of a throbbing headache. Up in his office, it looked as if Jack too had barely slept – no doubt for an entirely different reason. The angles of his face seemed more pronounced, casting shadows where yesterday there were none; his hair was sticking up at the frontas if someone had just run their fingers through it.
I averted my eyes before he caught me staring.
The first thing he said was, ‘Sorry about last night, I didn’t expect to have to rush off like that.’
For some reason this rankled. ‘You seem to be making a habit of apologising after every meeting we have. Perhaps you need to change your underlying behaviour.’
A weary smile.‘Something else for me to work on.’
‘And I can’t believe you didn’texpectwhat happened. If you choose to eat at a popular restaurant in your local town, isn’t it likely that you’ll bump into someone you know? Although I must admit the speed with which you left wasn’t exactly flattering.’
He reddened. ‘I’ve said I’m sorry. Now, if you don’t mind, I need to prepare for the union meeting.’
‘So do I.’ I spun on my heel and stormed into Betsy’s room.
In her calming presence, I recovered my composure and asked for the meeting agenda and attendee list. A mix of Leo Components and Sphinx Industries representatives, with Jack chairing, Betsy taking minutes and the HR Director, Phil, no doubt there to defend his territory. The same group had probably already met during the acquisitionnegotiations, but that was history. I knew that, as the UK manufacturing industry was still heavily unionised, the newly formed company would succeed or fail based on the discussions round this table. Jack’s dictatorial style would be highly counter-productive, and I couldn’t help feeling nervous on his behalf.
I needn’t have worried. It looked like he’d taken all my feedback on board and– even more remarkable – worked out how to act on it. He started with introductions, triggering the inevitable amusement when he described me as his executive coach, and then embarked on the next agenda item – ‘Vision’. Instead of pitching his own thoughts, however, he asked each of the attendees to outline three wishes for the company.
It was a shrewd move. He effectively handed the floorto the union representatives, but forced them to put aside any confrontational speeches they might have prepared in favour of constructive ideas. Accordingly, when conflict emerged, it was among themselves – and not directed at him, their original target. As they spoke, he captured the main themes on a flip chart. Betsy kept glancing meaningfully at her watch, but he ignored her.
Only whenthe heated discussion had run its natural course did he sit down at the table again. ‘Excellent, we have the makings of a great vision for our new company. If I can summarise, starting with where we are now … Phil, you pointed out that we’ve got a North-South divide: a sharp decline in the manufacturing power base of the North, and the growing dominance of London as a global financial centre. Butwe agreed that we can’t afford to dwell on this, that our company needs to change – unless we want to see more local communities destroyed. And you’ve given me a clear picture of what change looks like’ – he gestured to the flipchart – ‘with some common themes coming through. Like transforming our approach to employee relations, such as self-managed teams and profit sharing. And that suggestionof yours, Nick, about making manufacturing sexy again – that’s why we’ve been arranging visits for local schools, but there’s a lot more we can do with our apprenticeship schemes.’ He paused and looked briefly at each of us in turn. ‘I haven’t felt so positive about the future in a long time. Nothing we’ve talked about here is impossible, but we need to turn words into action. That’ll mean additionalinvestment in areas which we’ve traditionally neglected. Can I rely on your support if I put a business case to the Board?’
Heads nodded round the table; then, to Betsy’s obvious relief, we moved more quickly through the rest of the agenda. There were still points of contention, but Jack had removed the sting. The meeting ended with a sandwich lunch which, by yesterday’s standards, was lightand healthy. As we ate, we split into various conversational groups: Nick talking about the football transfer window with two of the Sphinx men; Jack and the remaining union representatives, too far away for me to overhear; Phil, Betsy and I comparing notes on holidays in Spain.
When Phil left the table to go to another meeting, Jack came to sit in his place beside me. ‘I thought we’d leavefor the Lakes mid-afternoon, once I’ve finished off a few things with Betsy. Is that okay?’
‘Of course. We can discuss this meeting when we’re in the car – or tonight, after dinner.’
He laughed. ‘Believe me, after one of Mitch’s meals you won’t be in a fit state to do anything except sleep. Anyway, I wouldn’t want to get indigestion.’
‘From all those unpalatable truths?’ I smiled.‘Perhaps there aren’t quite as many as last time.’
‘I hope not. After yesterday’s meeting I downloaded some management books and stayed up all bloody night reading two of them.’
My smile faded. He must be lying; he would hardly have spent the night in bed with Karinareading. I pushed my plate away, unable to finish my second sandwich.
‘Something wrong?’ he said, frowning.
‘No, I’ve just had enough. Excuse me.’ I scrambled to my feet, left the room and took refuge in the Ladies. At least he couldn’t follow me in there.
When I came out, Nick was waiting. ‘Jack asked me to show you the factory.’ He looked me up and down. ‘We’ll stick to the viewing gallery, less of a distraction for the lads. No offence, but on Friday afternoons concentration’s not at itsbest.’
Strange, wasn’t it? From someone like Nick Suggett, this behaviour seemed nothing more than quaintly sexist and rather pathetic. Whereas the same looks and words from his boss would have produced a very different reaction …
I said abruptly, ‘Aren’t thereanywomen working on the factory floor? These days jobs have to be open to both genders, you can’t discriminate.’
Heshrugged. ‘The women prefer office jobs, always have. But Jack’s trying to get the local sixth-formers interested in apprenticeships, girls as well as boys. Can’t see it working myself, but good on him for trying. Anyway, come and see the Leo Components production line.’
I followed him down the back staircase – far less impressive than the front one – then out into an enclosed yard, bleakas a prison. I could hear a strange muffled clanking, although there wasn’t an obvious source. As we approached a tall brick building opposite, the noise got louder. When Nick opened a huge metal door and ushered me inside, I almost reeled. A row of machines confronted me, each as big as a room, pounding and hissing in a relentless rhythm. And the heat … unbearable.
To my relief, we escapedup a flight of steps and into a room with thirty-odd chairs facing a large wall-mounted TV screen. Cooler and much, much quieter. The wall behind the chairs was a sheet of glass, overlooking the factory floor.
‘Take a seat.’ Nick busied himself with a laptop, while I settled myself in the back row. I found that the chair swivelled, so that I could watch either the screen or the factory.I smiled at the thought of a bunch of teenagers let loose in here, endlessly spinning – to the despair of their teachers.
A cough from Nick drew my attention. ‘There’s a company video here which explains what we do, then I’ll show you the different processes through the window.’
