Face The Wind And Fly

by Jenny Harper

  The florid-faced Alan Weatherstone, Director of Human Resources, formally opened proceedings. ‘We’re here, Kate, to review the matter of your suspension.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘You know everyone here, I think?’

  Simon Thomson, AeGen’s Director of Operations was the other man present. He was the most senior man in the company, other than the chief executive, which instantly underlined the seriousness of her position. Kate had her own representative, Judy Fulham, from her trade union.

  ‘Yes.’

  Alan said, ‘Let’s start then. First, I’d like to apologise for the length of time it has taken to conduct the inquiry, but you’ll appreciate how important it was that we do things by the book.’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘The issue under investigation led to a charge of gross misconduct – that is, that on the day in question, you caused the good reputation of AeGen to be brought into disrepute as a direct result of your behaviour towards members of the public, in an incident that was filmed and later reported in the media.’

  Kate remained silent. Her case had been prepared on her behalf and this was not the time to start arguing. The facts would emerge.

  ‘You asked us to speak to a number of people, including your line manager, Mark Matthews, other members of your team, in particular your assistant Jack Bailey. Correct?’

  ‘Yes.’

  He patted the thick file in front of him. ‘We took evidence from fourteen people in total. In addition, other salient facts were taken into account, in particular the position you had been put into when the AeGen management asked you to take charge of a controversial project in your own village. The pressures you were under were borne out by the threatening emails you received on your computer, and which you had filed.’

  Thank God she had filed them.

  ‘There are two other important mitigating facts. First, that you claim you had asked Jack Bailey not to include the route through Bonny Brae Woods on the plans to be shown at the public exhibitions, and second, the fact that your son was present at the time of the incident.’

  Kate had battled discrimination and inequity all her life, but she felt intimidated by the formality of the proceedings, even though Judy had run through what would happen and they had rehearsed their responses. She hated being here in disgrace – in these offices, where she had been an important player with ambitions to reach the top. She didn’t even have a pass, only a visitor tag. She steeled her nerves.

  ‘First, let’s run through the facts of the incident itself—’

  The whole hearing took almost an hour. The overwhelming weight of evidence was on her side, and they seemed to have been very fair. Alan Weatherstone smiled and said, ‘I think that concludes things from our side. Have you got any questions?’

  ‘No. Thank you.’

  ‘No? Then can I suggest you go and find yourselves a coffee? I’ll get someone to take you down to the canteen and we’ll come for you once we’ve reached a decision.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  When the door of the meeting room closed behind them, Kate was about to speak when Judy gave her a warning glance and nodded at the back of the girl who was leading them down to the canteen. Kate closed her mouth again. When they were finally alone, Judy turned to her and said, ‘Well? What did you think?’

  ‘Tough but fair, I suppose. I was a bit shocked to see myself on that video again, I’d forgotten I’d been that forthright – even if it was meant to be a private conversation with my son. How do you think the decision will go?’

  ‘Hard to tell. On balance, I think it’ll probably be all right.’

  ‘I hope so. I don’t want to lose this. I don’t deserve to lose.’

  They waited a full, nail-biting hour before they were summoned back upstairs. Alan Weatherstone placed his hands together on the file. He looks, Kate thought, like a judge about to pass sentence.

  ‘We’ve reached a decision, Kate. There were, of course, incontrovertible errors of judgement and behaviour on your part,’ he paused, his face impassive, then broke into a smile that seemed quite genuine and went on, ‘but on balance we found that the circumstances weighed against these. We are, therefore, going to reinstate you.’

  ‘Thank you.’ It was what she’d hoped for – what she had expected – but she was relieved nonetheless.

  ‘However,’ he continued, hardly giving her time to speak, ‘although you have the right to be reinstated in your role, we are bound to give you a formal warning. You understand that?’

  The relief receded. ‘I— I suppose so. Yes.’

  ‘In addition, you will be expected to report every day to your line manager, Mark Matthews.’

  ‘Report? I don’t understand.’

  ‘You must give Mark a brief written report each evening before you leave the building on the main activities and decisions you have been engaged in during the day.’

  ‘Like a school work experience child, you mean?’ Kate said incredulously.

  ‘It’s just a safeguard.’

  ‘You can’t be serious?’ she shot back at him, her impulsive reaction so strong that she had no time to weigh her words. ‘Safeguard against what?’ A shaft of sunlight, sneaking in through the blinds at the window, caught the faceted diamonds in her brooch and sent up a rainbow. The suffragettes had beliefs. They fought for a cause and they fought with passion. Fight!

  She slapped her hand on the table with such vehemence that it stung. She saw the men jump with surprise. Good. That had got their attention!

  ‘Forgive me for pointing this out, but I’m one of the most experienced engineers in the company. I’ve project-managed some of our biggest wind farms, on time and to budget. I’ve achieved more on the ground than many more senior managers in this company have ever done – don’t you agree? Alan?’ She stared intensely at the HR manager. ‘Simon? You know my record.’

  Neither man looked her in the eye.

  ‘I think you’d find it very hard not to acknowledge the truth of what I’m saying. And yet—’ she paused again, while they shifted uncomfortably in their seats, ‘—and yet you want Mark to crawl over every decision I make?’

  Judy’s foot pressed warningly against hers under the table, but the stress she’d been under over the past few weeks was threatening to explode like an Icelandic geyser. I mustn’t lose my temper, she thought. She couldn’t give them the satisfaction of seeing her again as she had appeared on television, shrewish and uncontrollable.

  In fact … she wouldn’t let them have the satisfaction of seeing her again, full stop.

  She said, before she had time to change her mind, ‘I’m sorry, but I think your judgement is flawed and your decision-making woeful. I have no wish to work in such an environment, or to work for people for whom I have little respect. You’ll have my formal resignation in the morning.’

  She picked up her briefcase and stalked out. Judy ran after her.

  ‘Kate! Are you sure you mean that? After all this effort?’

  ‘I’m sure.’ Kate was walking so fast that Judy was almost having to run to keep up with her. ‘The whole thing has just made me see what a grim place this is.’ She stopped and gestured at the carpet. ‘Forest green. Environmentally friendly. Care for employees. “Our people are our greatest resource”,’ she quoted sarcastically. ‘“We stand for respect and integrity and we listen to our people”. Ha!’

  Judy panted, ‘But we’ve won. You’ve got your job back. The reporting restriction will be lifted in time. Don’t you think—’

  They’d reached Reception. Kate wrenched off her Visitor tag and threw it down on the front desk. ‘I know you think I’m just being hot tempered, Judy. And I do appreciate all your work on my behalf. But I’m not going to change my mind. I couldn’t go back in there and be patronised and demeaned by those people. I’ve got too much self respect.’

  They spun through the revolving door and out into the car park.

  ‘I’m as good as they are. Better. A
nd do you know what? It’s the first time I’ve felt good for weeks.’

  The feeling of euphoria, perhaps surprisingly, lasted for some time. Andrew phoned.

  ‘How did it go? Did they give you back your job?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘That’s great news, well done. I always had faith in you.’

  ‘I told them to stuff it.’

  ‘You did what?’

  ‘They were so condescending.’

  ‘You’ve given up your job on a principle?’

  ‘Yes. The principle of self-respect. Aren’t you proud of me?’

  ‘I think you’re as bloody-minded and impulsive as ever. How are you going to manage?’

  ‘I haven’t thought about it yet.’

  ‘Oh, Kate.’ The reproach in his voice was multi-faceted and she could name its planes – irritation, exasperation, concern, displeasure, and ire. Was the concern for her wellbeing, she wondered, or for his wallet? ‘We have to talk.’

  Kate felt bruised. All the things that had defined her as a person had been put through the mill and ground to powder. Being a wife: fail. Motherhood: half marks? Friendships: fail. Her work: fail, fail, fail. She clamped the phone between her left ear and her shoulder. Would it be such a bad thing to mend things with Andrew, put a small tick beside the box that said Marriage? Might it ever be possible to rebuild her trust of him? Should she try, for Ninian’s sake if not her own?

  He was saying, ‘I’ll come by tomorrow.’

  A faint sense of alarm stirred. She needed time for her new situation to settle in her mind. ‘Not tomorrow.’

  ‘The day after then? I’ll take you out for lunch.’

  She tried to think rationally. She needed to understand what and who she was in this new world of hers. Perhaps talking to Andrew might help. She’d have to talk to him sometime anyway, to think about what to do with Willow Corner. ‘Lunch then,’ she said, twisting her wedding ring. ‘On Thursday.’

  In the small world of renewable energy engineering, news travels fast. Before teatime she got a call from an engineer she had trained with.

  ‘Keith Devlin here. Remember me?’

  ‘Vividly. Puking into a plant pot after a crazy night out, as I recall.’

  ‘Ouch. Can we never put our student years behind us?’

  Kate laughed. ‘Only when the grey cells die in the last one standing. It’s nice to hear from you, Keith. How’s things?’

  ‘Mad. One of our project engineers has been put out of action. Heart attack.’

  ‘I’m sorry to hear that. I hope it wasn’t stress.’

  ‘He’s a man who likes his pies and beer. The stress was all in his arteries.’

  ‘He’s all right, I hope?’

  ‘He’s alive. But he was coming up to retirement anyway and his wife’s insisting he stops now, on medical grounds.’

  ‘That’s understandable. Listen, Keith, sad as I am for your man, what’s it got to do with me?’

  ‘I heard you’re on the market for work.’

  ‘What?’ Kate was astonished. ‘Where did you hear that from?’

  ‘You know how it is. Are you?’

  ‘I don’t know. Possibly.’

  ‘You’ve left AeGen though, right?’

  ‘Almost. My resignation will be with them in the morning. I still don’t know – who’s your mole?’

  ‘Just the jungle tom-toms.’

  ‘What might you be offering?’

  ‘Not a permanent job. Not as yet, anyway, we’ve got a head count limit. A contract. We need a project manager to take over from Tommy.’

  ‘Where?’

  He named a site in the Borders. ‘Know it?’

  ‘I’ve followed its progress, yes.’

  ‘Think you could handle it?’

  ‘Of course. But Keith—’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘Everything would depend on whether they try to put any restrictive covenants on me. I won’t know for a few days probably.’

  ‘Fair enough. We’re desperate though. You could just about name your price, though I shouldn’t be telling you that.’

  ‘How long’s the contract?’

  ‘Around a year to going live, bit of wind-down after that. Interested?’

  ‘Definitely.’

  ‘Give me a bell, then, soon as you know your position.’

  ‘Will do. And Keith—’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘Thanks for thinking of me.’

  She sat staring at the phone. Work: fail, fail, fail? Maybe not.

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  Harry called early. Kate wiped sleep from her eyes and tried to clear her brain.

  ‘Dad tells me you’re meeting him for lunch.’

  ‘I am, yes. Why?’

  ‘I can’t talk now, Kate, I’ve got a meeting but I’ll be through by midday. I’d like to see you before you meet Dad. Can you fit me in?’

  Kate was ridiculously pleased to be asked. It was the first time, so far as she could remember, that Harry had ever asked her to meet him. ‘I don’t see why not. Was there something in particular?’

  ‘It’ll be easier to explain when we meet.’ He named a cafe near the restaurant where she was seeing Andrew. ‘See you then. You will come, won’t you?’

  ‘Of course I’ll come,’ she answered, surprised.

  ‘Good. Bye, Kate.’

  ‘Bye, Harry.’

  He cut the call and she stared at the phone, puzzled. It rang again at once. It was Lisa Tranter.

  ‘I’m in the car park,’ Lisa said in a low, quick voice. ‘I just wanted to say how sorry we all are. You know. About you leaving.’

  ‘Oh. Right.’ They knew already?

  ‘No-one wanted you to go, you know.’

  Kate wanted to say, Not even Jack Bailey? but she held her peace. ‘Thank you for telling me that, Lisa. I appreciate it.’

  ‘By the way, we just heard – all the readings from the Met mast are great. We’ll certainly be pushing ahead with the full planning application.’

  ‘When did you hear?’

  ‘Just this morning. I’m so sorry you won’t be running the project. It was fun working with you.’

  ‘Thank you, Lisa.’

  ‘Anyway, I’d better go. Could I buy you a drink sometime? I’d like to.’

  ‘I’d like that too. What a lovely suggestion.’

  So Summerfield would probably happen after all. Kate had always been confident it would. However, it would be Jack who took it forward, not her, and she couldn’t say, hand on heart, that she was sorry about that.

  With more time on her hands than she had ever had, it would have been reasonable to assume that she would be better organised than in the days when she’d been out all hours. Oddly, this proved not to be the case – she discovered that she was clean out of coffee. Unable to function without a strong brew of freshly-ground coffee, she put on her coat and set off for the village shop. A hundred yards before she reached it, she came across Frank Griffiths on a small folding stepladder, reaching up a lamppost to cut down one of the many protest placards that had been put up round the village. Georgie was with him.

  Kate stopped.

  ‘Good morning, you two,’ she said brightly. ‘What a lovely day. Was The Herons okay in the storm the other day, Georgie? Did you see the lightning?’

  ‘Brilliant, wasn’t it? I couldn’t sleep.’

  ‘It hit our old willow.’

  ‘Is it all right?’

  ‘No, sadly, it’s not. A spectacular strike destroyed it completely, there’s nothing left but the stump.’

  ‘Oh no!’ Georgie seemed upset. ‘But it won’t be Willow Corner any more.’

  ‘We still have one tree left,’ Kate pointed out, ‘and I’ll probably replant.’ She looked at Georgie. ‘Are you all right, Georgie? Shouldn’t you be in school?’

  ‘I didn’t feel well this morning. Stomach cramps,’ she looked meaningfully at Kate. ‘Mum said if I felt better later I could go round with Grandp
a to collect the posters.’

  ‘So you do feel a bit better?’ Kate said sympathetically.

  ‘Much better, thank you. But I’ll probably stay off all day. Mum says I need to get some colour in my cheeks.’

  Frank had snipped the plastic clips on the card and he tossed the placard into the sack Georgie was holding. He climbed down from the small steps. ‘Another one done. How many’s that, Georgie?’

  ‘Twelve. How many are there?’

  ‘There should be forty, in Forgie and Summerfield.’ He eyed Kate steadily. ‘So. It looks as though the wind farm will go ahead.’

  ‘What have you heard?’

  ‘We were notified yesterday that a full planning application is to go in.’

  ‘Can I ask why the posters are coming down?’

  Frank looked embarrassed. ‘Actually, the Community Council has decided to withdraw its protest.’

  ‘Really? What’s brought that about?’

  ‘AeGen did a really good job on the Council,’ he said, plainly piqued. ‘First they sent us someone who gave us more detail about the size of the turbines and the sight lines. If we can believe them, we shouldn’t see too much from Forgie once the landscaping is complete.’

  As I explained , Kate thought, amused.

  ‘And your Community Benefit Manager – Gail? – came and told us we could apply for funding to renovate the village hall.’

  ‘That’s a great idea.’

  Frank tilted his head to one side as if to gauge her reaction, then shook it slowly from side to side. ‘Blood money. That’s what I called it, and that’s what I still believe. But the Community Council voted by a majority to withdraw our opposition, so I’m obliged to accept that.’