Sign of the Times (32 page)

“OK, let’s put her on the shortlist.
 
Anyone else?” she asked.

Another hand shot up.
 
“Yes, Zoe Lesley.
 
She’s young, but hungry and very eager. Her conversion rates are fantastic and I think she would be a very enthusiastic team lead.”

“OK, good.”

A few more possibilities were unearthed and then they moved on to discussing the KPIs.
 
At Insureall this was not synonymous with pay increases, so staff provided real feedback.
 
All in all the process had been a success.
    
They passed on to Statistics
.
 
The team leaders, generally speaking, took care of improving the statistics, which included call handling times, number of calls handled and waiting time.
 
The first thing Antonia did whenever she left her office was look at the overhead screens indicating the status for the day.

The bonus scheme for the contact centre staff was paid on an individual basis and the staff was also eligible for the company’s profit share scheme.
 
Overall Insureall wasn’t a bad employer, offering lots of perks, but they expected their staff to work hard for it.

The conversation soon turned to the pay increases.
 
The company was doing well and pay rises had already been agreed for various departments.
 
Antonia now meted out to her team leaders the various percentages they were able to offer to their staff.
 

Antonia then regaled her staff with details of a new product - flood insurance.
 
It wasn’t a big thing up here.
 
More requirement for it down in England, but there were some coastal areas and the islands which were occasionally affected.

They rattled through the rest of the issues and Antonia finished by asking the most competent team leaders to split cover of Geoff’s team between them until she could come up with another solution.

Antonia returned to her office and busied herself preparing the Performance Management data.
 
It was difficult appraising people you didn’t know much about. What she
could
glean was from their Personnel files, but it wasn’t always enough.

She scanned through the categories.

Achievements

Attaining goals

Relationships

Objectives for coming year

Comments

She looked at the first team member’s name and notes.
 
Hugh Preston, twenty-eight, at Insureall for three years, two months. Why wasn’t he a team leader, Antonia wondered.
 
She knew it didn’t suit everyone, not everyone wanted the responsibility and she could understand that, but just to be a call centre operative at twenty-eight?
 
She read further.
 
Ah, he was still single.
 
No kids.
 
His stats looked OK.
 
His conversion rates were OK and he managed the department football team.
 
He was simply unremarkable.

Antonia moved on to the next one, Lucille Carter, twenty-four, single, with a two-year-old son.
 
She made use of the company crèche.
 
It was one of the major assets the company offered and often kept staff loyal to them.
 
Reduced childcare costs and no additional commute to drop them off.
 
Lucille had started with them last year and seemed to be enjoying it.
 
Her figures were well above average and she had already asked about becoming a team leader.
 
Her name hadn’t come up at today’s meeting as her team leader had left three weeks ago, so wasn’t there to speak on her behalf. Antonia added Lucille to the shortlist.
 

As she scanned the next batch’s credentials, a rap came at her door.

“Come in,” Antonia’s voice boomed.

Hugh Preston shuffled into her office.
 
She noticed his shoes were scuffed and his tie wasn’t straight.
 
Laziness, she thought.
 
He’ll probably still be a call handler next year.
 
She invited him to sit down and the appraisal began
.

Chapter Forty Nine

At six o’clock, the last person left Antonia’s office.
 
The first part of the process complete, Antonia would instruct one of the secretaries to type up the notes.
 
Antonia was pleased to see she was right about Lucille, just the right amount of enthusiasm and common sense.
 
She would make a good team leader.
 
Antonia had raised the bar on each of their objectives for the coming year and included some additional personal development goals.
 
She was asking them to have some ambition.
 
They were used to an easy ride, she thought witheringly.

“Goodnight Bill,” she said to the security guard.

“Goodnight Mrs Bacon,” Bill called.

In the car, Antonia called home.
 
Clara
,
her fourteen-year-old daughter, answered.

“Hi Mum.
 
Where are you?”

“Just leaving.
 
Is your brother in?”

“No, he’s just gone out.
 
Dad said he’d be home in ten minutes.”

“Yes I know.
 
Did Felix say when he’d be back?”

“No, I think he was going over to Jamesy’s.
 
As long as he’s not here bashing his drums, I’m quite happy.”

Her mother knew what she meant.
 
No amount of soundproofing their loft could completely shut out the racket Felix’s band made.

“OK, I’ll be home in half an hour.
 
I’m just going to nip to Tesco.
 
Have you had anything to eat yet?”

“Just some crisps.”

“Clara!”

“Well, I was hungry.”

“Yes, well, there is a smoothie maker that you insisted we buy.”

“I know, but there aren’t any strawberries.”

Sighing, Antonia added them to her shopping list.

*

Antonia arrived home, just as Jack pulled into the driveway.

“Hi,” Jack said, coming over and kissing his wife.

“I stopped by the DVD shop to see if there were any new releases.”

“Were there?” Antonia asked.

“Well, there was a good kung fu one.”
 
Antonia rolled her eyes at him.
 
“And a nice psychological thriller for you,” he hastily amended.

“Just as well,” she chided him.
 
“Kung fu indeed.
 
You can watch that once I’m asleep.”

“I wouldn’t dream of anything else,” he grinned at her.

Draping an arm round his wife, he led her into the house.

Clara was making toasted cheese.

“Hi Clara,” her dad said.

“Hi Dad. Good day?”

“Not bad,” Jack hugged his daughter.
 
She was definitely a daddy’s girl.
 
Her relationship with her mother was friendly, but lacking that special something.
 
Felix on the other hand was just an anomaly and at seventeen and doing his A levels, he was moodiness personified.
 
He was rarely at home, but was meant to stay home on the evenings Clara was back before her parents.
 
They used to be so close when they were little, Antonia thought, looking at a holiday snap of the brother and sister, taken near Cannes, a few years back.
 
But when Felix turned sixteen he metamorphosed into a grunting, sullen youth.
 
At least he wasn’t doing drugs, she hoped.
 
He had his head screwed on.
 
He just forgot it sometimes, she thought fondly.

“No dance class tonight?” Jack asked.
 
Clara shook her head.
 
“Cancelled, teacher’s got laryngitis.”

“You don’t dance with your throat, do you?”

“Daaa-ad,” Clara moaned.

“What’s for dinner?” Jack turned to Antonia.

“Chicken breasts with honey mustard topping, carrot batons and baby potatoes,” she replied.

“Accompanied by a reduction of balsamic vinegar…” Jack laughed, as his wife flicked him with a dishtowel.

“I don’t know what you’re laughing at.
 
There’s a dishwasher needs loading.
 
I’m on strike until the kitchen’s cleaned.”

Jack knew his wife wasn’t kidding.
 
“Clara!” he shouted to his daughter.

“No Dad, I’m not doing it.
 
I have homework.”

Antonia hid a smile. “I’ll make it worth your while,” her father’s wheedling voice carried upstairs.

Clara came trotting downstairs.
 
“Five.”

“Five?” her father spluttered. “To load a bloody dishwasher?”

Instinctively he reached for the swear box and put a pound in it.

“That’ll give me another ten goes,” he grinned.

“Two,” he negotiated.

His daughter made to go back upstairs.

“Three, but you have to do the dinner things too.”

 
“Deal,” Clara took the five pound note from her father.
 
She stumbled upstairs and a few minutes later, when she came back and started loading the dishwasher, her father said, “Where’s my change?”

“Oh I don’t have any.
 
I’ll need to owe you it,” she said smiling sweetly.

Her mother suppressed a snort.
 
Her daughter really had her father where she wanted him.

Over dinner, Jack filled Antonia in on his day.
 
He’d taken advantage of the forty-five minutes until dinner to answer some calls and check his emails.
 
He had a big case on next day.
 
He was prosecuting a medical negligence case.
 
It could have a big impact not only in Scotland, but in the UK
.
 
Alexandru Daicoviciu was an illegal immigrant who had received emergency medical treatment at a Glasgow hospital.
 
Unfortunately, a nurse there managed to inject him with the wrong type and dosage of painkiller and he died.
 
It was Jack’s job on behalf of Alexandru’s family, to prove that the Health Board had been negligent and try to get the jury to find for the prosecution.

“I mean, personally, I don’t think our Health Board should have to pay damages. Yes, it’s a shame it happened, but accidents happen and with underfunding, staff shortages and nurses being able to administer drugs now, is it any surprise?
 
Nowadays there always has to be a scapegoat.”

Antonia cut into her chicken and listened.
 
Jack continued, “I mean, I don’t have anything against immigrants, if they have something to offer the country and they don’t just intend to come here and bleed the system dry, but he wasn’t even legal and now potentially his family could receive hundreds of thousands of pounds in damages, never mind what the court case itself actually costs the taxpayer,” he said indignantly.

Antonia mostly agreed with him, although she did feel for the man’s family.
 
He had a young son and his wife was pregnant
again
.
 
Now their children no longer had a father.
 
Alexandru had been in Britain trying to gain legal status, so that his family could have a better life.
 
But she knew where Jack’s frustration came from.
 
With the absence of quotas until recently and with the government not inspiring confidence that they had any idea what they were doing with Immigration, services were overstretched.
 
She looked at her husband fondly.
 
He was a Tory through and through. They were poles apart.
 
He, born into an upper middle class family, whilst her father had been a bricklayer and her mother had worked in a bottling plant.
 
It was unthinkable that their family would do anything but vote Labour.

Their conversation soon changed to more pleasing matters.
 
Jack had been given tickets for Madame Butterfly.
 
Antonia said she wasn’t fussed as she’d been before, but why didn’t he take Clara?

“That’s a great idea.
 
Maybe I can exchange it for dishwasher loading services in future,” he smiled.

He refilled their glasses.
 
They had no big plans socially for the next few days
.
 
Jack was going to be busy with the case for the next few weeks.
 
After a little more catching up on their day, Jack excused himself to work through the final details of his opening statement
.
 
Wearily, Antonia placed the dirty dishes beside the dishwasher. Her daughter had to earn her money after all.
 
She retired to the lounge with her DVD but within minutes she was asleep.

“Bye darling, remember I’m eating out tonight,” Jack pecked her on the cheek, his skin, freshly shaven, smooth against her cheek, “Have a good day.”

Antonia lifted up her briefcase, set the alarm and got into her
Z4.

When she arrived at the centre at eight thirty, it was still relatively quiet.
 
She unlocked her office and sat her briefcase on her desk.
 
She booted up her computer and as the Windows symbol scrolled and then disappeared, she opened her briefcase, took her planner out and slid her briefcase under the desk.
 
She had a little time to catch up on emails before her meeting with George.
 
Launching straight in, she read,

Anton
ia

I’m going into hospital on the date of the TtT event.
 
What do I do?

Chloe

Damn, Antonia had forgotten Chloe had this coming up.
 
She hadn’t told her the date before.
 
She’d have to take her to task about that.
 
If she asked her European colleagues to change the date now, she’d look stupid.
 
It might be easier to replace Chloe.
 
She wouldn’t be happy, but there was nothing she could do.

Subject
:
RE: Train the Trainers Day

Arnold

The Polish team will be ready on 29
^th
.

Marina

Antonia was in a bit of a bind now.
 
Next email.
 
There were quite a few replies to Arnie’s original email.

Arnie

We will be happy to attend on 29
^th
August.

Jean Philippe

As Antonia scrolled through her emails, she found another four acceptances for the 29
^th
.
 
Well, that’s torn it, she thought.
 
She’d have to tell Chloe she couldn’t go.
 
She sat, drumming her pen on the desk, wondering whom she could send in Chloe’s place, then battered off,

Chloe

Need to see you when you get in.

Antonia

Antonia looked at her diary to see what she had on, after George.
 
Amazingly she had a relatively free morning and spent the next five minutes trying to work out why. With a jolt, she remembered she was meant to be seeing one of Felix’s teachers at eleven o’clock.
 
Damn, she hadn’t put it in the diary.
 
She didn’t have any idea how long she’d be with George and it was a good twenty minutes from here to St Aloysius.
 
There was nothing for it.
 
She’d have to call the tutor and admit she’d forgotten.
 
After two rings a secretary answered,

“Good morning, St Aloysius College. How may I help you?”

“Good morning.
 
This is Antonia Bacon.
 
I’d like to speak to Mrs Teviot, please.”
Antonia heard pages being rustled and then the woman said, “I’m afraid she has a class at the moment.”

“Oh, well, I’m supposed to have an appointment with her at eleven and I’m going to be a bit late.
 
Could you give Mrs Teviot the message please?”
 
The secretary agreed to contact the tutor.

Phew, at least that was done.
 
She hated breaking arrangements.
 
As she started working out her afternoon schedule, she saw that she was meant to be meeting Louise in Princes Square for lunch.
 
Damn, she’d forgotten that too.
 
What was wrong with her?
 
Well, at least if she were up at St Al’s, she didn’t have far to go, although driving and parking in the city centre at lunchtime simply didn’t bear thinking about.
 
She was surprised that Louise hadn’t texted her.
 
Their arrangements were always made so far in advance, that her best friend tended to send her a text the night before to ensure their catch-up was still on.
 

Chloe popped her head around the door.
 
What Antonia liked about Chloe was she was very outgoing and whilst she was respectful, she didn’t kowtow
.
 
She treated the cleaners the same way she did George.
 
She’d never be ingratiating to further herself, which made telling her she was off the course even harder.