A Servant of the Company

by Alan Cooke

  The notice board showed details of other companies on the recruitment trail. They too had been selective in their choice of venue. He was about to return to his seat in the foyer for a further ten minutes when his attention was drawn to a tall young blonde female dashing into the reception area looking flushed and in a great hurry. The receptionist directed her to a notice board which she checked quickly before running to the elevator. He smiled as he saw her remove her shoes and run up an adjacent staircase. A few minutes later he watched as she returned in the lift.

  ‘Excuse me, do you have an A4 sheet of paper and a felt pen I could borrow.’ She smiled sweetly at the receptionist.

  The smile was returned and the receptionist checked under her desk before handing the items to Carol.

  ‘Thank you very much,’ she said as she turned and seated herself near to the notice board. After some thought, she began writing. A minute or so later she had pinned her note on the board. Walking towards the exit she paused by litter bin where she tore up the papers she was carrying and thrust them into the bin. Although still flushed, she had suddenly acquired an aura of serenity. Or was it self satisfaction?

  Under the R.L.G. logo on the board, the note read, ‘Regret Vacancy Now Filled. Applicants will be advised by post as soon as possible.’

  ‘Fascinating. Now what could be in the bin?’ He waited until the receptionist was engaged with a visitor before retrieving the papers and putting them into his briefcase. ‘These can wait until later, now for the bloody interviews.’

  The Agency team were busy arranging chairs around the table when he entered the room. His intention was to remain as low profile as possible so he adopted a timid manner. Introducing himself quietly, he asked where he should sit, and then announced that he would not interfere with the proceedings, he was just an observer. He certainly did not want Henderson to hear his voice and with luck all three would dismiss him as a nonentity. The team leader said he would sit one end of the table with his number two, facing the interviewees. He was asked to sit opposite number three. The applicant would take the vacant fourth side.

  Interviews started promptly at ten o’clock and it was soon apparent that the three interviewers had a well practiced routine. He was impressed at the amount of information they elicited from the applicants. At the end of the first interview he was getting a feel of the pharmaceutical industry. The young applicant had been impressive and had he been really interested in filling a vacancy in that area, he would have had no compunction whatsoever in offering him a job. But he had no intention of any of today’s applicants being offered a job, not even Henderson.

  He had formed a picture in his mind about Henderson’s appearance, and when he entered the room said to himself, ‘Ten out of ten.’ He was tall, slim and had a military bearing about him which was more obvious now he was faced with three civilians.

  When the questions started, he answered positively and with confidence, it was obvious he had no experience of pharmaceuticals, but had done some homework and was able to ask some pertinent questions. There were no questions about his decision to leave the Army until he slid a piece of paper to number two.

  ‘Why did you decide to leave the Army when you were progressing so well?’

  Steve’s face turned pink as he fielded the question. ‘There really wasn’t any money in it?’ he bluffed, hoping that the question would not be pursued. Fortunately it wasn’t, although it would have made no difference if it had.

  Each time Henderson had given a good answer, he had nodded to himself as though in agreement. This was the only applicant he was interested in, the rest of the day would be time wasting. At the end of the interview, Henderson had thanked the team, acknowledging each in turn with a glance and confident smile. He nodded in return.

  He was still, his hands on his knees beneath the table and out of view. The three interviewers could talk among themselves until the next applicant arrived.

  As the last applicant left the room in the late afternoon, he rose from the table and picked up his briefcase. Quietly, he thanked the team for their professionalism in carrying out the interviews and asked them to forward the forms to head office together with their comments and recommendations. A final decision would then be reached. He left the room as quietly as he had entered it. The team would soon forget the quiet man.

  When he returned home, he settled down to consider the day’s events. Henderson had coped adequately with the barrage of questions but he was not in the same Pharmaceutical league as some of the others. To him it mattered not one iota. He had seen his quarry, made a positive judgement and was now ready for the final phase in preparing Mr. Henderson for his future role. Four days later the forms and comments were returned via Arif Rahman’s depository. On day six they were in his hands. One he kept, the remainder he sent regret letters which he had asked the recruitment consultants to prepare on their headed paper in readiness once a decision had been reached. After ten days, he sent the final letter to Mr. S. Henderson regretting that he had been unsuccessful in his application. Posting the letter, he said. ‘That should unsettle you a little more my young friend.’ If he could reduce Henderson to the lowest point he would ever reach in his life, he would be malleable, trainable and very useful. The job was ready and waiting. The location, Manchester.

  There was one more thing he had to do. The papers discarded by the young woman in the hotel lobby had been pieced together, and temptation beckoned to try another recruitment plan, but he was wavering, ‘Should he, shouldn’t he?’ He knew he shouldn’t, but she was a cracker, and certainly had some spirit.

  An Economics Graduate from Bristol University, fallen on hard times. It was too good an opportunity to miss. A plan was already forming in his mind.

  On many of his flights with the major airlines, reading the in flight magazines he had noticed escort agencies advertising their services for businessmen who might be visiting this or that city. He had no doubt that the escorts supplied a number of services, including work as translators, PR assistants and in some cases just company for a specified, prepaid period of time. There were hundreds of beautiful multilingual foreign girls who would be eager to join such companies. And more were arriving each week. It could be extremely lucrative. There might be times when an escort would provide services not on the menu. A real success could be made of this, with the help of Miss Carol Barcroft ex- Bristol University.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  He was pacing up and down just waiting for the mail. It had been a very frustrating time since the interview and Steve had only one thing on his mind from the minute he woke up. There had been a number of regret letters but nothing concerning his one and only interview. ‘It must come today,’ he told himself and then the moment arrived. Hearing the sound of the letter box being opened he rushed to the door as the letters fell onto the door mat. Only one for him but it looked a possibility. He was shaking, this could be it. Tearing open the envelope he unfolded the letter and read the contents. He couldn’t move, ‘For Christ’s sake no,’ he muttered despairingly. All the waiting, all the hope just gone like that. How could he tell Anthea, she couldn’t put up with him forever? ‘There’s no way I’m going to end up as a Security Guard on a bloody building site,’ he shouted at the letter. ‘No bloody way.’

  Picking up the file which kept records of all the jobs he had applied for together with the results, he opened it and entered Regret next to the appropriate application. Looking at all the entries did not make enjoyable reading. ‘Don’t give up Henderson,’ he said to himself as he headed back to the computer with the idea of trawling for jobs on line.

  He still had savings and considered moving into the City where there would be more opportunities, but the cost of getting a flat would reduce the bank balance to nil in a short space of time. If Anthea could suffer him for a little while longer, here was the best place to chase that elusive opportunity. Once he was in employment and had money going into the bank each month then he could move out. It woul
d only be a matter of a week or two he tried to convince himself, but he had reached the stage where his self reassurances were falling on stony ground.

  Four days later, still no progress, and then the envelope had landed on the doormat. Opening it he found a printed note, no address, no signature just a note in capital letters.

  ‘YOU WILL RECEIVE A TELEPHONE CALL AT 10.00 A.M. ON THE 7th. AT WHICH TIME YOU WILL HEAR OF AN OFFER WHICH MIGHT INTEREST YOU.’

  ‘That’s bloody strange,’ he said, reading the note for the third time. Turning it over he checked the back, but there was nothing. Shaking the envelope and peering into it proved fruitless. He was at a complete loss. Could this be the opportunity he had been waiting for, or just some sick joke. He hoped Anthea would be home early, she would know what it was about. She was tremendous in difficult situations. When he had told her about his dismissal from the Army, she had been calm and reassuring, without her he would have been lost. He would discuss this with her and together they might make sense of it.

  It was normally just six o’clock when Anthea returned home. At quarter past, Steve was pacing up and down, every minute or so opening the front door to see if she was coming. He had never had time drag so much, she was only fifteen minutes late. ‘Come on Anthea, I need you.’ He hoped he wasn’t losing his reason talking to himself like this, but this really was his hour of need. The right answers to some questions might free him from the bonds of unemployment.

  Hearing footsteps on the pavement outside, he recognised them immediately. Before she could put her key in the lock he had the door open. ‘Am I glad to see you,’ he bent to kiss her cheek. ‘I’ve had a very odd letter and wondered just what you might make of it.’ Passing the envelope to her, he sat down waiting for her comments.

  She opened the note and read the contents, and like Steve, turned it over for more information. ‘Odd isn’t the word, maybe bloody odd. I don’t know what to think of it. Only the Army people know you are here so they can forward mail to you. It couldn’t be that sicko corporal could it?’ Anthea suddenly felt concerned, he had already suffered terribly at that man’s hands and if this was a joke, she could guess who had been responsible. ‘With this you have to take the bull by the horns, accept the instructions and if it is a hoax, you can at least tell whoever it is what you think of them. On the other hand there is a faint chance it could be a genuine offer. It’s a risk you just have to take.’ Putting the note back into the envelope she then tried to establish a postmark over the stamp. ‘Well, it was posted in London that is the only clue there is right now.’ She looked at Steve trying to judge his reaction to her comments.

  ‘You’re right as usual, I must keep an open mind and try not to show my feelings when the phone rings.’ He was leaving his options open, anger would only erupt if it turned out to be the call he dreaded. Otherwise the caller would hear an interested and intelligent young man.

  ‘Well, where’s dinner then?’ Anthea laughingly gave him a poke in the ribs as a reminder that he had forgotten his duty for the day. I’ve been slaving over a hot computer all day while you have been sitting around with your feet up. Do you think I would make someone a good nagging wife?’ She grinned at Steve as he muttered apologies for failing to even think about a meal.

  He took the envelope from her and put it on the table knowing it would be on his mind until his eyes closed in sleep. ‘Looks like beans on toast tonight, sorry about that, but I’ve been so uptight all day over the silly bloody letter. It has irritated nerves I didn’t think I had. I’ve just been longing for you to bring sound common sense to the situation, and that you have done and I appreciate it.’ He wasn’t sure if he was in love with her, but tonight in particular felt a warm glow when he could see in her eyes the concern for him. She had said only what he already felt, but where his feelings were founded on frustration hers were based on sound judgement. In a way she was warning him against overreaction. If the caller did have something to do with Jennings he would be ready, and he would not moderate his language. It would be pure barrack room. However, should he get the slightest intimation that the caller had something to offer, then he would react accordingly.

  They had stayed up talking until the early hours, Anthea knew he would not be able to sleep and had deliberately kept him talking. When they had eventually gone to bed, she suggested he drank a hot toddy which might help him sleep. From the excitement in his voice, she feared he would be awake all night and not be in the right frame of mind for the ten o’clock phone call. There was always the chance, no matter how small, that this might be the call that would change his life. He deserved it, there were very few men about like him and she just wished that he felt the same towards her as she now felt for him. It was almost three a.m. when sleep finally won the battle for Steve’s tired body and mind. He did however recapture some ground with a dream about a new career.

  It was ten o’clock exactly when the phone rang. Pausing, he gathered his thoughts before answering the insistent ring. He didn’t want to sound too eager, nor did he want to give a hoaxer the pleasure of hearing his excited voice. Slowly he picked up the phone and waited to hear the caller.

  ‘Good morning Mr. Henderson.’ The cultured voice took Steve by surprise, he had not known what to expect, but if he had to guess, this voice would not have been on his list. ‘The Company I represent has heard about you and we think you might be interested in considering an offer. That is if you haven’t already accepted one from elsewhere.’ The caller paused waiting for a response.

  He had prepared the ground well. The interview had built up Steven Henderson’s hopes, and the rejection had done the opposite. Now he was offering a lifeline. At the interview, Steve had told the team that he had not had much success with his job applications so far, so he must be desperate. He had been acutely aware of Steve’s position and was able to exploit it to perfection. It was someone to expand the drugs empire that was being developed, with the supply coming from Mr. P. Although he wasn’t desperate at this stage, he knew Steve was.

  ‘Would you be prepared to move to Manchester?’ The question came out of the blue and took Steve by surprise. There had been no indication of what was involved, just this bland question. ‘We are expanding in that area and need someone of your calibre to recruit and train merchandisers in distributing our product.’ He had no intention of giving too much information. Once an agreement had been reached, then he would feed information as and when necessary. Henderson was hungry, and he had to keep him that way until he was totally committed to the enterprise.

  ‘At the moment I am actively looking for a career as you must know. Can I ask you how you heard of me?’ Steve needed reassuring at this point. He must have someone on his side. Who was it?

  ‘All I can say at this stage Henderson is that your name came up and you were highly recommended. I am just a servant of the Company and do as I am told. If you are as good as the recommendation, it will help the powers that be make their decisions. I carry them out.’ He could cope with anything that any of his potential recruits threw at him, he was an old hand at the game and good at it. ‘Now, would you be prepared to work in Manchester?’ He would now play Henderson as an experienced angler would play a trout.

  The thought of the north didn’t thrill Steve, but the possibility of a reasonable job did. Once he had established himself, he would have the experience and credentials to move on. At the moment he had nothing. He didn’t want to sell his services cheaply or display the desperation he felt. ‘Manchester wouldn’t worry me, but the job and terms of employment would be the deciding factors from my point of view. You may be aware that I have no business training but I am a quick learner and would give any employer 100 per cent.’ He paused to get a reply from the mystery caller.

  ‘We are a very private Company. You may think it strange for me to contact you as I did, but if I said to you, ‘When in Rome do as the Romans do,’ it would probably mean something to you. Believe me, I had the same introduction to the Compa
ny. I soon learned that it was an excellent employer and I have been looked after extremely well. All that is asked for is loyalty and honesty. I would add that those falling short of the standards required leave in a very unhappy state.’ He did not say that it was usually with broken limbs or in extreme cases, in a box.

  ‘It sounds like my sort of company.’ Steve had warmed to the description he had heard. If there was a good sense of discipline, he would welcome it. ‘What would be required of me, and is there a training programme?’ He sincerely hoped there was a programme, he would cope with it and adhere to its aims. It could be everything he had hoped for.