The Earlier Trials of Alan Mewling. A.C. Bland
the documents, line-by-line. He paid the closest attention to the ones written by Morton, because they could contain, according to long-established practice, ‘bandit text’ i.e. inappropriate words, usually pertaining to a single subject, inserted to keep the clearing officer on his/her toes.
Morton’s most recent themes had been the history of the oboe, the taxonomy of stick insects, ancient Ecuadorian initiation rites, and the names of the pre-Reformation Bishops of Worcester. His current interest appeared to be, quite unexpectedly, in the Spanish Inquisition.
When Alan located mentions of the rack, strappado and bastinado, his suspicions were aroused. However, once he’d located an auto-da-fe, a Notary of the Secreto and some Edicts of Faith and Grace, he was confident that, without recourse to any reference materials, he was on the right track. Finally, having discovered a mention of interrogatorio mejorado del agua, of the Alhambra decree and of the Albigensian heresy, he was satisfied he had the subject matter nailed.
He became so engrossed in the task that he hardly noticed the passing of time or the return from lunch of Trevithick (who’d earlier revealed that he’d be attending a Christian fellowship meeting in the amenities room), O’Kane (who later revealed he’d been playing touch football) and, finally, Morton (who revealed nothing at any stage about participation in activities reminiscent of both sport and worship, in a local hotel room with one of more shapely executive assistants).
At 2:10 Alan reluctantly put down his proof-reading pen and checked the most recent emails on his screen, as a preliminary to picking up his workbook and leading the assembled team (minus Lorrae and Barbara) to one of the nearby conference rooms for the weekly section meeting.
“I don’t think this will take us long,” he said, when everyone was seated. “Directors’ was mostly about the abolition announcement and how we should respond, administratively, to people who, with the aim of enhancing their redundancy prospects, have dressed up or are …”
He pondered an unprovocative synonym for “nude”, “naked” and “undressed” but failed to find one.
“Stark bollocky?” asked Morton.
“I suppose so,” said Alan.
“All my Christmases ... ” said Hemingway.
“As far as abolition is concerned,’ Alan continued, “Marcus and Brian are doing their best to find out whether there will be an opportunity for potentially redundant people, here, to swap with others, elsewhere in the department, who might be keen to go.”
“But things don’t look good for swaps – what with the staffing freeze – do they?” said O’Kane.
“I wouldn’t be jumping to any conclusions, just yet,” said Alan, thinking there was nothing to be gained by mention of Brian Gulliver’s apparent acceptance that he (and by implication, his colleagues) would soon be making change their friend.
“I suppose you’re right,” said Morton, archly, “anything could yet happen. After all, a day is a long time in public administration, even when you’re not bored rigid.”
Alan wouldn’t normally have allowed a remark of this sort to go unchallenged but the presence of others prevented him from remonstrating with Morton.
“Marcus will let us know, as soon as he can, whether there will be swaps. In the meantime, though, he emphasised the importance of business as usual and of good record keeping, in case others need to pick up, at short notice, where we leave off.”
“Did he give you the impression he knows what’s going on: why this has happened?” asked Trevithick.
“I think it’s fair to say that the precise reasons for abolition are still something of a mystery, but he and Brian are hoping to get to the bottom of that, too, as part of their enquiries about process et cetera.”
“What sort of bastards would put people out of work at Christmas time?” asked O’Kane.
“Self-evidently, the sort of bastards we work for,” Morton replied.
Bad language in the workplace was a relatively recent phenomenon and one Alan abhorred. “Marcus also made it clear that he is going to be taking a strong stand against people who are pretending to be mentally unwell in an attempt to enhance their prospects of redundancy – and especially against persons who are getting about in the … without their …”
“Clothing?” asked O’Kane.
“Yes,” said Alan. “Without their apparel.”
“And he’s proposing a strong stand against them?” said Morton, grinning.
“That’s his intention,” Alan continued, “He intends not to reward bad behaviour –“
“Good luck to him with that,” said Morton, “trying to reverse the whole premise on which this organisation operates.”
“─ and to not facilitate the redundancy of individuals within the branch who are doing the wrong thing,” said Alan.
“Assuming that the whole branch isn’t going,” said Morton.
“Yes, assuming that,” said Alan.
“Permission to speak?” Hemingway asked O’Kane.
“Briefly,” came the reply.
“I don’t understand how dressing up and nudity enhance the prospects of redundancy.”
“Go on,” said Morton.
“Well, it seems to me that if you’re barking mad, you’re in no state to make a decision about your future and probably shouldn’t be given a choice.”
“You’re applying common sense to the situation,” said Morton. “Everybody knows that deranged behaviour is just a ruse to expedite redundancy – a way of demonstrating how serious you are about leaving and getting your hands on some cash. And believe me, no one ever came back, later, and said “you shouldn’t have believed me when I said I wanted to go; I was crazy.”
“Extraordinary,” Hemingway murmured.
“If being just a bit unhinged was enough to get you out the door,” said Morton, “there wouldn’t be any dressing up or getting around au natural, would there?”
“I don’t follow,” said Hemingway.
“It would be enough,” Morton continued “to be sitting at your desk, chatting to yourself, obsessing over process and detail, getting anxious about not achieving the outputs listed in the branch business plan and making file notes of every conversation and phone call.”
Alan could readily have taken issue with these alleged manifestations of mental illness – all behaviours with which he was well acquainted – but, in the interest of brevity, attempted to move things on, yet again. “Talk to Morton or me after the meeting,” he said to Hemingway, “if you require more context.”
“I always thought the secret to a successful redundancy bid,” said Trevithick, ignoring Alan’s ‘no dallying’ signal, “was to be just annoying or embarrassing enough to make management keen to see you off.”
“That might once have been the case,” said Morton, “but over the years managers have become immune to lower order, day-to-day irritation.”
“I really do think we should move on,” said Alan, returning his focus to his workbook and finding his notes of the directors’ meeting more cryptic than helpful. “I think Marcus’s next point was that no one is to pay attention to the individuals engaged in the sorts of behaviour we’ve been talking about … except to expedite normal business, and in so far as each section ─ and this is the important bit ─ each section must gather the information necessary to complete and lodge two forms.”
Everyone groaned.
“Let me continue, please: one form to be completed and lodged on a weekly basis vis-à-vis