The staff
fidgeted for a moment.
Unaccustomed as they were to dealing with profound emotion in their
workplace they felt strangely naked.
Valerie sobbed loudly and urged Martin to switch off the video.
“My friends,”
began Malcolm stretching out his arms in a symbolic embrace of his staff. “We have a job of work to do.”
Each nodded his
or her head more or less in unison, glad of the opportunity to express his or
her emotion without having to say something inadequate. All apart from Martin who took this as
a further sign that he was the only one on the payroll capable of rational
thought. He put his hand to his
mouth but couldn’t stop the grin leaking out across his face. Not that he tried very hard. Not after detecting the unmistakable
glimmer of humour that passed over Debbie’s beautiful features.
“Oh come
on. A milk float…?”
“Yes,” piped up
a senior enquiries clerk from the back of the room. “’Cos a friend of mine got run over by a milk float a few
years back. Apparently it happens
quite a lot.”
Most of the
other it seemed were also aware of the risk posed by these silent but deadly
warriors of suburbia.
“Apparently,
right – this is what my dad said – you can’t hear them coming. Like forklift trucks. But bigger and faster. It’s been on the news.”
“Yes, I heard
about that. I think there’s some
EC regulations being introduced. They’re going to give them reversing alarms –
like big trucks – and make them drive backwards so people know they’re coming.”
“Malcolm. “
Debbie stood up and interrupted the manager. “I think that was a very good video. I think it tells us a lot about the how
important it is to identify customer needs early on and meet them with the
appropriate products.”
There was that
word again thought Debbie returning red-rimmed from the toilet. Martin noticed that Debbie seemed to be
hiding something behind her back.
“I think we
should use this opportunity to think about that for a bit and practice doing
the sort of skills we need. That
alright Malcolm?”
“Yes I think
that’s a very good idea – the moment brings the man so let’s strike while the
kettle’s hot. I think I’ll go and
put the iron on again if you want to get things under way.” He retreated into the kitchen area.
“Right then
everybody, what I think we’ll do is some simple roll playing.” About half the staff squirmed further
back in their seats and feigned invisibility.
“No, don’t
worry. Nothing too scary. We’re going to play a little game. It’s really very easy – even I can do
it.”
Such a way with
people, thought Martin. Even
Valerie was beginning to look at home.
“What I’m going to ask you to do first of all is find a partner.”
It was at times
like this when not having an equal could prove a disadvantage. Martin glanced expectantly over towards
Debbie as the others paired themselves for maximum comfort. She nodded back. It was understood that they went
together. That felt very
good.
The staff
ambled around the room as though taking part in some kind of geriatric mating
ritual. Pairs began to form and flop down together until only Martin, Valerie
and Debbie remained unclaimed.
Martin was heading confidently for the latter when Malcolm reentered
with a tray of mugs and found that nobody was sat where he thought they would
be.
“Right
Malcolm,” said Debbie fishing him out of the middle of the room where he had
begun slowly circling with his tray.
“You’re with me. The game’s
all about identifying customer needs.
So one of you needs to be the customer. The other is the member of staff. What you already are.
So that’s you. What
you has to do is find out from the customer what it needs. You find out by asking a series of closed questions. Everyone know what one of those is?”
None of the
staff – neither themselves or customers – knew. Except Martin.
“They’re
questions you answer with a yes or a no.”
“That’s right
Martin. Do
you see what I mean?” she
asked the others by way of a demonstration.
“Not sure,”
said Valerie, biting her lip.
“No, you see
that wasn’t right. You really had
to answer yes or no to that because it was a closed question. See what I mean now?”
“Do I?” asked
Valerie, turning to Rachel for moral support.
“No that’s not
right either Valerie. That was a
question you see. A closed question as
it happens, because it needs a yes or no answer. Is that clearer now?”
“No.”
“Good, that’s
exactly right. That was a perfect
answer to a closed question. Now
to make it a bit more interesting when you’ve spotted what they need don’t tell them. No, keep it to yourself but ring
this.” She produced a brass
reception bell from behind her back and tapped it with the palm of her hand
producing a tuneless click. She
attempted to balance it on the palm of the other hand and repeated the
operation with only slightly more success. “Really need to put it down to show you.” Placed on the table and struck again it
resounded with a gutsy ker-ching. “There you go. Bell ‘n’ sell!”
“Bellansell?”
repeated Valerie cautiously.
“Bella
ensella,” ventured another. And a
few of the others had a go –
“Bill and
Sell…”
“Bee land
sellar … is that Spanish?”
“No, bell and sell,” said
Debbie with an extra long gap between the words. “That’s what the game’s
called. Bell ‘n’ sell.” She briefly explained the rules which
none of them understood but felt confident that nobody else did so weren’t too
worried. All apart from Martin,
that is, who understood perfectly and elected to go first. Valerie closed her eyes tightly as he
turned towards her. Nothing
happened. She opened one eye
cautiously.
“Come on
Valerie, you have to start.
Remember what you say – I’ve a need…”
“Oh yes
right. Sorry. I’ve a need.”
“What’s your
need?” Martin responded like lightening.
“You’ll need to
ask.”
“That’s my
task”
“Good,” said
Debbie, encouraged. “Off you go
Martin.”
“You married?”
“Yes,” said
Valerie through tight lips, eyes closed again.
“Got kids?”
“One yes. David. Nineteen.”
“Sorry?”
“I mean yes.”
“Sorry?”
“Yes.”
“You ambitious?”
“No.”
“Happy just to
do your job?”
“Yes.”
“Know what your
job is?”
“Yes, err no. I
mean yes.”
“Think you’re
good at it?”
“Err yes.”
“Do you know
what everybody else here thinks about that?”
“Yes, err no.”
“Sorry?”
“Yes.”
“Do you really…really?”
“No then.”
“Sorry?”
“No.”
“Do you think
you’re going to cope in the New Age of Banking?”
“Yes.”
“Even though
you’re going to need to remember multiple product specifications, identify
customer needs and match one to the other in a sensitive and persuasive
manner?”
“Eh?”
“Sorry?”
“What?”
Martin turned
away from her. “Do you want me to carry on with this Debbs or is there no point
if she won’t stick to the rules.”
“It’s not
that,” said Valerie. “I just
wasn’t sure what you meant. Not
sure if I understood.”
“No, I don’t
think you do…”
Valerie stood
up and gathered her things together, her face like stone.
“Valerie love…”
Rachel started. But Valerie
left the room, slightly disconcerted by the decisiveness of her own actions.
“Dear me,” said
Debbie. “She always as bad as
this?”
“It’s not her that’s bad,”
muttered Rachel, pulling on her overcoat in readiness to follow.
“Not you as
well,” said Debbie. “Come on, sit
down. There’s going to be nobody
left.”
“Then you’ll
have to cope without us I’m afraid…”
“Sit down I
said!” Debbie shrieked. Uneasy
mumblings ceased as Rachel froze and slowly lowered herself back into her
chair.
“I’ll put the
kettle on shall I,” said Malcolm.
“Alright then
everybody,” said Debbie perkily.
“I’ll be your partner now shall I Martin. Let’s take up from where we left off. I’ve got a need.”
“What’s your
need?” asked Martin.
“You’ll need to
ask.”
“That’s my
task. Got a house?”
“Yes.”
“Got a car?”
“Yes.”
“Ever been
water skiiing?”
“No.”
“Want to?”
“Yes.”
“Like cold
water?”
“No.”
“Any children?”
“No.”
“Planning on
having a family?”
“No.”
“Are you
happy?”
“Yes.”
“Like your
job?”
“Yes.”
“Do anything to
get to the top won’t you?”
“Yes…no.”
“Do you think
you can?”
“Yes.”
“Think you’re clever
enough then?”
“Yes.”
“Know the name
of the Bank’s new mortgage product?”
“Yes.”
“Are you still
intending to close down the branches?”
“No…yes…no. I don’t know. I mean, we never were.
That’s not the right kind of question.”
“It is. Just the wrong kind of answer. You allowed to say what you’re plans
are for the network?”
“No…I mean
yes. Of course I can.”
“That’s not the
right kind of answer either is it.”
“Yes then. I mean – yes. Sorry.”
“Is that yes or
no then?”
“Is what yes or
no the?”
“Are you
closing this branch?”
“No.”
“Got a holiday
cottage?”
“No.”
“Booked a
holiday for next year?”
“No.”
“Was Future
Proof your idea?”
“Yes…I mean
no. Well sort of.”
“Yes or no.”
“No.”
“Know anything
about rubber stamps?”
“Yes…no.”
“Got a
boyfriend?”
“No.”
Martin struck
the bell. “I’ve found a need. Now guess my lead.”
“She needs a
boyfriend Martin. That’s pretty
obvious. You’re losing your
touch.”
Martin looked
around the room inviting other suggestions.
“Needs a
personal loan to buy a holiday cottage.”
“Needs an
easier job.”
“Needs a
holiday!”
Martin shook
his head. “No. None of you got it.”
“We’ve pondered
well,” they said, loosely in unison.
“Now ring ‘n’ tell.”
“A wet
suit. She needs a wet suit. If she’s going water skiing – and she
said she wanted to – and she doesn’t like cold water, that’s what she
needs. Keeps you warm and helps
you float.”
The layers of
foundation couldn’t hide the pools of blood that quickly formed beneath
Debbie’s cheek bones. “What a good
idea Martin. I don’t think it’d
suit me though.”
“I think it
would.”
“Definitely
not. Too many haddock and chips in
the canteen I think.”
“I don’t.”
“Right. My turn then. Let’s swap places.”
They moved round the table, Debbie sitting down with her back to the
mirror. Martin began:
“I’ve a need.”
“What do you
need.”
“You’ll have to
ask.”
“That’s my
task.” She shuffled down to
entrench herself more solidly in her seat and leant forward over the table
towards her adversary. In the
mirror Martin could see the others pressing in on them like wasps towards
delicious nectar. Debbie looked
him straight in the eye. He let
her draw him in. This was turning
out to be the best day he could remember.
“Right, let’s
start with something easy. Do you have
a house?”
“No.”
“Want one?”
“Yes.”
The bell rang
out. “I’ve found a lead now guess
the need.”
“Needs a thick
ear if you ask me.”
“Needs to learn
some respect.”
“Needs to get a
life…”
“No, come
on. There’s obviously a need for a
mortgage sale here. I’m sure you’d
all have got that so I’ll continue.
Said before so I’ll do some more.
Have you got a pension?”
“Yes.”
“Are you
ambitious?”
“Yes.”
“Do you want to
make something out of your time at the Bank?”
“Yes.”
“Do you always
get what you want?”
“Yes.”
Her eyebrows
leapt out of the way as her eyes flashed flirtatiously across at him. A superheated canon ball dropped into
his rib cage and began to sink slowly through his gut.
“Really?”
“Yes.”
“You always
achieve what you set out to achieve?”
“Yes.”
“Are you a good
team player?”
“Yes.”
“Do you thrive
under pressure and relish a challenge?”
“Yep.”
“Do you keep up
to speed with the trends in technology and consumer habits that will shape the
future of the Bank?”
“Yes.”
“Do you?”
“Yes.”
“Do you?”
“Yes.”
“Do you really
Martin?”
“Yes.”
“Is Martin
Crossley going to work for the 21TITs one day?”
“Yes?”
“So why’s he
still in a regional branch? Isn’t
he good enough for Head Office?”
“Yes.”
“Or would he
rather be a big fish in a small pond – staying put because it’s easy for him?”
“No.”
“Is he scared
of moving on incase he’s not as clever as he thinks?”
“No.”
“And somebody
makes him feel as stupid as Valerie?”
“No!”
“So what you
doing Martin?”
Nobody
moved. Nobody spoke. For a few moments nobody breathed
either. There was a soft click as
the kettle switched itself off in the kitchen. Then the gentle clinking of pot against pot as Malcolm
arranged the mugs on the work surface and unscrewed the top of the coffee jar.
“Same again for
everybody then?” he called through.
“That wasn’t
the right kind of …”
“I know.” Debbie continued to stare into his
eyes, her pupils oscillating minutely from side to side as though scanning
every sell of his brain.
“Shouldn’t you
ring the bell or something?” he asked, falling back in his seat, his eyes
bubbling like lottery balls.
“No.”
“What you doing
then?”
“No
Martin.” She rose form her
seat. “What are you doing?”
As Rachel followed the others out of the staff room and down the stairs she almost felt glad she hadn’t walked out earlier with Valerie.
Martin sat facing the mirror, his eyes now calmed to a gentle simmer. He listened to the others chattering down below and then dwindling to murmurs as they put on their coats and passed, two by two, though the air lock doors and into the banking hall.
He removed his
glasses, placed them on the table and turned his head as far to the left as he
could without loosing sight of his reflection. He pushed his bottom teeth in front of his top ones. Better. But it hurt so he reduced his chin to its usual ‘bare
minimum’ setting. Then he turned
his head to the right. His acne had cleared up years ago but his face never
seemed to have recovered. Somehow
he always looked slightly poorly.
He opened his mouth as wide as it would go and closed it again, the rush
of blood to his lower features temporarily disguising his pallor. Better.
Taking out his
handkerchief - still smooth and folded as he’d ironed it that morning, with MB
in the top right hand corner (always top right) – he polished his glasses,
first one lens, then the other. He
leant forward purposefully with one elbow on the table.
“Debbie
darling. Hi. Take a seat, I won’t keep you. Terrific job on Future Proof by the way – and don’t let that
spelling mistake bother you.
Bloody typesetters.
Remember – don’t blame yourself for what you cannot control. Just what you can. Like the rubber stamps… darling I’m
joking. You’re the best we’ve got
and don’t forget that. At
the moment anyway.
“Which brings
me on to why I’ve called you here.
There’s a guy in branches that we’ve had our eye on for a while. Pure talent. I want you to check him out – get close. You know what I mean. Find out what makes him tick and what
it’d take to get him in here with us.
He could be just what we need.
This is your first priority, forget all your other assignments.
“Oh and Debbs,
there’s one other thing. There’s
something I need to say to you about – about you and me.” He slid his glasses on. “Surprised
eh? Didn’t know I wore glasses did
you. Guess I’m not that good
looking after all eh? But that’s
not all. The open plan
warehouse-type studio flat over-looking the canal basin – not mine. Cat sitting for a friend – who’s
inherited all his money from his parents and is also not good looking. The truth is I live with my parents in
Pudsey. Oh and there’s no cottage
in Cumbria. Just a caravan in
Cleethorpes. And even if there was
I couldn’t take you this weekend anyway because my Fiesta’s in for a
service. That’s right. The Porsche was a lie too. I can’t live a lie Debbie. I have to face up to the fact that I’m
not good enough for you. I guess
meeting this Martin guy taught me that once and for all. So now you’re free to go and carry out
your mission. We’ve found a need
and here’s your lead. Martin,
Debbie, Go get Martin!”
***
“Shhhh,” said
Valerie as Rachel joined her in the entrance to the branch. “What’s that? Is it that bell?”
“Must be Martin
and Debbie, still at it in the staff room,” said Rachel.
“Debbie came down with me,” said Lynn
the Back Office Manager, putting down her bag to fasten her coat. “He must be by himself.”
“Well she’s not
come out of here,” said Valerie.
“I’ve been stood here all the time. And I would probably have had a few words to say to her if
she had.”
“Well where is
she then? She can’t have gone out
the back. That’s always locked and
Malcolm’s got the only key. She
must have hidden and gone back up to Martin. I reckon he fancies her you know.”
“To be honest I
think the girl’s got more sense,” said Valerie. “Any way she’d better watch herself, that’s all I can
say. Come on Rachel. See you tomorrow everybody.”
They stepped
out onto the pavement where they were frisked by a warm and playful breeze.
“It’s got quite
nice now hasn’t it.”
“But they say
it’s going to thunder at the weekend.”
“Bound to!”
As Valerie took
Rachel by the arm and set off up the street she tried not to notice the
apparition that slipped out of the shadows of the pet shop door and fell in
behind. It sat close beside her on
the bus, stepped on her heels as she walked up her garden path and scrabbled to
climb onto her back as she fumbled to open her front door. It only left her alone after Frank had
lowered first her, then several Gin and Tonics, into her favourite chair, at
which point it slid upstairs, spun a web of sleeplessness around her side of
the bed and waited. Around
midnight it began its questions. Why was her world changing and she staying the
same? Where had her Bank
gone? Why was the staff room such
a lonely place for her now? But
most importantly, would the hounds that had made such swift work out of someone
as clever as Martin think twice before bringing her and Rachel to the ground?
Daylight began
to trickle round the edges of the curtains and still she had no answers. And she knew she never would, for now
it was time to go back to the branch and bring home a new shadow as she had
every day for months.