Page 2 of One Summer Weekend
I sidestepped the personal reference. ‘At Coaches for Growth, we don’t believe in a directive approach – it’sall about empowerment.’
He had the nerve to laugh, a deep-throated chuckle that filled the room. ‘You can call it whatever you want, as long as it helps me work smarter. I couldn’t work much harder.’
Or play any harder, according to the media coverage; but I let that pass. ‘To summarise, then, you could say that the aim of your coaching would be to increase your confidence levels andemotional intelligence in a dynamic corporate environment, in order to work more effectively at integrating your recent acquisition?’
The chuckle expanded into a shout of laughter. ‘I couldn’t say that at all! Looks like we’re going to need a third person at these sessions to bloody well translate – is that why you charge such a high fee? We’d better change to payment by results.’
‘The fee is non-negotiable,’ I said stiffly, ‘and doesn’t include a translator – although you’re welcome to provide one at your own expense. Are you saying you disagree with the aim of the coaching?’
‘No, but you might need to help me with some of those long words.’
I addedChildish sense of humourand said briskly, ‘How will you know you’ve achieved the agreed aim?’
‘Easy – theBoard and I have set some ambitious targets. By the end of this financial year, that’s the thirty-first of March, we need to have increased our sales across the two companies by fifteen per cent, same with profit before tax, and trimmed the workforce by ten per cent. Typical stuff to justify the cost of buying a bigger company. But to do all that I’ll need to become more effective from today. Actually,make that yesterday.’
This was more like it. I made a note of the targets, folded my hands in my lap and launched into a well-rehearsed routine. ‘End of March, that’s just under ten months from now. I would normally suggest working with you over a six-month period. More frequent meetings to begin with, then monthly sessions, provided we’re making satisfactory progress. In theory, that fitsin with your timescale. But you must understand that, although the start and end points in coaching are predetermined, the middle part, what I call the journey, is intangible, very much an unknown quantity. Not like a journey by plane or by train, where everything is scheduled. And, if my suspicions are correct, your personality type will find this concept rather difficult. You like things to bequantifiable, like your Board targets.’
‘How else do I know I’m on track?’
‘Quite. But there is no track in the coaching journey, you’re forging your own path with an experienced coach as your guide. Of course, you know where you want to be, what your end point looks like—’
‘I should hope so, at my age.’ No sign of that smile, just the taunt still there in his voice.
Ifinished with a frosty, ‘—but there’s plenty of unfamiliar territory along the way.’
‘I’ll bet. How would it work, then?’ He leaned back in his chair and stared at me through half-closed eyes, as if … well, as if thinking about something else entirely. Or was thatmyover-active imagination, provoked by his permanent state of innuendo?
I willed my blushes away and focused on a picturejust over his left shoulder, a surprisingly tasteful watercolour of a slate-grey lake surrounded by snow-capped hills. ‘We would start with an intense period of two or three days finding out about you, seeing how you interact at work, attending one of your management meetings, understanding your personality, and so on. Then there are various options. You can go for remote coaching, by Skype orvideo conference, but you would be less likely to achieve your aim within the required timescale. Or you can come to our offices in Helsingham, just off the M3, for face-to-face meetings. Clients often find they get more out of coaching if they’re removed from everyday distractions. Or our coach can come here, which will enable him to observe—’
‘Him?’ He leaned in, frowning. ‘I thought itwas going to be you?’
I didn’t answer immediately. Although I hadn’t intended to say ‘him’ instead of ‘me’, that simple slip of the tongue presented a relatively painless way out of my dilemma. Times were tough, and we couldn’t afford to lose this business. But if I handed this assignment to one of my male colleagues … Let’s just say that Jack Smith would find his masculine wiles eliminatedfrom the agenda, Coaches for Growth would get its profit – and I could return to my comfort zone.
I leaned forward too, a controlled display of assertiveness. Up close, his blue eyes showed flecks of green. And they were a lot less friendly than before. ‘I’m afraid I’ll have to think very carefully about taking you on as a client.’ As I said this, as I finally expressed my reservations tohis face, I felt a thrill of relief run through me. I continued, warming to my theme, ‘The relationship between coach and coachee is built on rapport, openness and trust – and for me there’s something not right about the way we’re interacting. Equally, I suggest you give some thought to whetheryoucould work withme.’
He drew away, the frown deepening into a scowl. ‘I didn’t realise thiswas a bloody dating agency. “Male, six foot two, aged thirty-six, good sense of humour, would like to meet female, aged – well, I’d put you in your late twenties, forexecutive coaching?” I don’t think so! This is a business transaction, pure and simple. I buy your services, you send me an invoice and I pay it in thirty days, regardless of your terms. End of story.’
He might be right aboutmy age, but he was wrong about everything else. ‘Coaching’s a very personal service—’
‘So’s a dating agency—’
‘I’d rather use the analogy of a doctor,’ I said, in desperation; not an ideal metaphor, perhaps, but too late now. ‘Do you prefer a male doctor, or a female one, or doesn’t it matter? Do you want someone who’s directive, or consultative? Do you like a lot of bedside manner,or as little superfluous interaction as possible?’ As soon as I said that last sentence, I regretted it. I added coolly, ‘There are so many factors to consider at this level of coaching.’
‘My ideal doctor’s female and consultative, with a great bedside manner and warm hands. When it comes to coaching, though, does it matter whether I’m a man and you’re a woman?’
Another time – anotherplace – another man, saying the same words. The skeleton of a past life stirred, and I shrank back in my seat. ‘I think we should change the subject.’
He raised an eyebrow. ‘But isn’t coaching the subject here? What else would you like to talk about?’
Sip the coffee … force the smile.‘Let me discuss this assignment with my colleagues. We may decide that you’d benefit more from havinga different coach.’
‘But I wantyou.’
That was when it hit me. Maybe everything in this ill-judged meeting had been building up to this moment, like the script for a nightmare. This man, with his invading eyes and soft-spoken intent, had pushed my life into rewind. Back three years to a Californian summer, when another man had said the words, ‘But I wantyou.’ So many times, in somany ways. ‘But Iwantyou, Aleesha.’ ‘Iwantyou.’ And the worst insult of all, ‘I love you, Aleesha. I always will.’
Back then, I had been totally unprepared. But not this time. This time I was ready, and I would deal with it. Fight it. Finish it before it could even begin.
Try to breathe … swallow … moveon. The words almost stuck in my throat. ‘We can’t always have what we want.’
