Goodmans Hotel

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Goodmans Hotel Page 5

by Alan Keslian


  On Monday the tickets from Andrew to the exhibition at Olympia arrived. I rang to thank him and promised to mention them to Peter, but warned that he was particularly busy because of the new client. Persistent as always Andrew said that if Peter could find time to go he would ensure there was enough to interest him to make the visit worthwhile.

  Andrew’s dedication to his businesses increasingly aroused my admiration. He seemed to work every day, often late into the evening, taking off only Sunday afternoons. As he had claimed, everyone he employed was gay. Whenever ‘straights’ were mentioned in conversation he would slip in a derogatory remark about them, saying that you never really knew where you were with heterosexuals, or that the most primitive animals had a very strong urge to breed. These jibes may have been a sort of tit for tat for all the horrible things that ‘straights’ say about gays, but if it had been possible for him to live with no contact with ‘straights’ whatsoever he would probably have done so.

  Arriving at work on the following Thursday morning after spending the night with Tom, I was on my way into the lift when Peter strode jauntily towards me. ‘You look like you’ve been up late.’

  ‘Met some friends last night,’ I said defensively.

  ‘Thanks for all your work with the new client. I’m seeing them next week… be nice if we could have something to show, offer them some sort of demonstration or presentation. Any chance?’

  ‘We could develop some screens to show how our system will look when they connect up, ask them to try a few options to see what screen layouts for sending data will suit them. Be another month or two before we can show them real data being processed by the system.’

  ‘Some demonstration screens would be fine. Any idea how long?’

  ‘Give me a few days… There was something else, probably not worth mentioning, you’ve got more important things on your mind. Some complimentary tickets have turned up for the Hotel and Catering Exhibition at Olympia. Expect you probably get dozens of that sort of thing.’

  ‘Not as many as you get to computer exhibitions, they seem to be on every other week. Hotel and Catering at Olympia, you said?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Wouldn’t take long to get there, could do with a bit of relief from the office grind. Give my secretary a ring. If I’ve a couple of hours free, why not? How did you come by the tickets?’

  The lift arrived at our floor and we stepped out. ‘Ferns and Foliage, the company that looks after our plants sent them.’

  To my complete surprise he said, ‘Ah, you got on all right with the gay gardeners then?’ He looked at me with a friendly quizzical smile. I was terrified. My mouth felt dry, as though it was lined with fur, and my heart was thumping.

  ‘Sorry?’

  ‘If you don’t know you’re the only one who doesn’t. They don’t exactly make a secret of it.’

  That he could be putting on a pretence of tolerance so as to trap me seemed implausible. Realising that there would never be a better opportunity to tell him the truth I took a large breath and said, ‘Yes, I had noticed. I’m gay myself actually.’

  Quietly and unemotionally, as though I had told him whether I preferred tea or coffee, he said, ‘Caroline said she thought you might be. You know she’s in personnel, doesn’t miss much. Can be too quick sometimes… you know. Speaking for myself, perfectly happy to accept we all have our different ways… but some of the senior men in a long established City firm like this… you have to be careful what you say to them whatever the topic. Speak to my secretary about that exhibition.’

  Welcome though his apparent tolerance was, he had not made personal relationships with anyone else at Lindler & Haliburton easier. The unplanned ‘coming out’ to him was enough of a risk to my hard-won career progress for the time being, and other pressures demanded priority. A long series of queries, notes and memos to do with the new client needed my attention. For a month after Peter had won the business the pace of work remained hectic. A document drawn up to specify exactly how the link between our system and theirs was to operate contained thirty pages of detail about data formats, technical protocols, timetables for completing activities, safeguards against unauthorised access and other security measures. Some of these were readily agreed between the two companies, but others were revised again and again until an acceptable compromise between our differing working practices was found.

  Meanwhile the demands of other day-to-day work continued as before. Some tasks could be delegated to my staff, but with limited authority to pay for extra hours not very many. My immediate boss, the head of the information technology unit, refused additional overtime for my team, probably resentful because Peter had not consulted him before asking me to take on the extra work. To complain to Peter and ask him to overrule the decision against overtime would risk worsening the antagonism, and to cope with the workload I put in far more than my contractual hours. Peter commented several times in the weeks that followed that I looked tired, but neither he nor Andrew ever moaned about having too much to do, and nor would I.

  Leaving work unfinished to go to the exhibition seemed irresponsible, but as we boarded the taxi taking us to Olympia Peter reassured me by saying, ‘Been quite looking forward to this. About time we let up after all the hours we’ve put in lately.’

  On arrival I suggested we go straight to the furniture supplier’s stand, where we found Andrew in conversation with a woman sitting behind what looked like a hotel reception desk. I introduced Peter, and, as though we really were at a hotel reception, Andrew asked her, ‘Is there a room available for us?’

  Handing him a small plastic card, the ‘key’ to the room, she said, ‘I hope you’ll enjoy your stay.’ He inserted it into the lock of a panelled door at the back of the stand and led us into what looked like a large twin-bedded hotel room.

  Peter was impressed. ‘Marvellous! Looks really convincing. You could believe you had stepped out of the exhibition straight into a hotel!’ In one ‘wall’ was an imitation window with a picture of a country landscape cleverly lit from behind to look realistic. Opposite this, behind mirrored doors, were the fitted wardrobe and the en suite facilities. The furnishings included a television, and picking up a remote control unit Andrew turned it on and muted the sound. He pressed another button to bring up a diagram of the room. As he moved an arrow around the screen little menus appeared, and selecting options from these he made the curtains at the imitation window close automatically, dimmed the lights, and boosted the air conditioning. Next he replaced the room diagram with a closed circuit TV picture of the woman at the desk in front of the stand, and holding the remote control nearer his mouth spoke a few words to her.

  He flipped open the back of the unit to reveal a miniature q-w-e-r-t-y keyboard. ‘This little thing doubles as the room’s telephone, and can be used to access the internet. Here,’ he said, handing it to Peter, ‘would you like to give it a try? I have to pop out for a minute.’

  We played with the gadget and sent an e-mail message to Peter’s secretary. About ten minutes later Andrew returned with another man he introduced as the furniture supplier’s director of finance. He touched my arm and led me out of the room, leaving Peter and the new man together. ‘Let me show you our free gifts, assuming we have some left.’

  The receptionist opened a drawer and gave Andrew a white cardboard box about three inches square. He took out a clock with a novel feature: every half minute the background colour of the face changed from light grey to dark grey, then back to light again. ‘All done with Polaroid, I’m told.’

  ‘It’s unusual. Are you offering me one?’

  ‘Yes, I was going to offer one to you and one to your boss. They’re only trinkets. Perhaps he’d be offended.’

  ‘ No, why should he be? The worst he can say is “no thanks”.’

  When Peter came out to join us he seemed delighted with the gift. We went on to roam the aisles of the exhibition looking at the stands, mingling with the hundreds of other visitors, accept
ing the business cards, advertising leaflets, trade brochures, sweets, trinkets and carrier bags that were being handed out as we went along. In return Peter occasionally gave one of his business cards saying: ‘Lindler & Haliburton, accountants. I’m Peter Haliburton, by the way. Very pleased to have met you.’

  At first the eye-catching displays of the more impressive stands and the bustle of the huge hall were stimulating, but not wanting to buy any of the spotlessly clean restaurant kitchen equipment, or to place a bulk order for wine, or to have a swimming pool installed, after an hour or so we had had enough. Having walked at least once down every aisle and looked at least cursorily at every stand he said, ‘All these free samples and advertising gimmicks, does anyone ever actually use any of them? Is there anything you particularly want to see again?’

  ‘No. Nothing in particular. Was it worth coming?’

  ‘Yes, very much so. Enjoyed it. Let’s go up to that café on the balcony for a drink.’ He bought me fruit juice and a Danish pastry, and we sat where we could look out over the exhibition floor. ‘You should have said something.’

  Not knowing what he was referring to, I said, ‘What, about the clocks… ?’

  ‘I’m not talking about clocks. I mean about that furniture company looking to change its accountants.’

  Andrew had given me no hint about this. ‘Your chat with the finance director was interesting then?’

  ‘Yes. Seems they’ve had a lot of changes in personnel at their current firm. Worst thing you can do to a client, makes them think there’s no continuity, nobody who is close to their business. Every time they ring up they feel they have to start from scratch. They’re not a major league company, but not a bad little contract, if we get it. Might be worth you keeping in touch with your friend Andrew. Could be useful for us to have some sort of presence here ourselves next year; there may be more clients to be won.’

  Below us new arrivals were entering the exhibition hall, collecting their identification badges and floor plans, and setting off along the already crowded aisles. Great cast iron arches above us supported the glass roof, similar to the roofs of the big Victorian railway stations. Not wanting to tell him that a boyfriend was the real reason I would be keeping in touch with Andrew I smiled and nodded.

  ‘Seeing all the people to-ing and fro-ing down there reminds me of when I was in the States. The corporation I worked for had a staff restaurant overlooking a shopping mall.’

  ‘Were you over there for long?’

  ‘When I left university the last thing I wanted to do was to join my father in the firm. I changed jobs a couple of times, then joined a US oil company based in Houston. I put in eight or nine years, living most of the time in the States. If you think I throw my weight around at work you should have seen what went on over there. My boss once fired someone during a meeting in front of about fifteen people, all over an error in a set of figures. Lindler & Haliburton, whatever its faults, doesn’t do that kind of thing.’

  ‘I suppose the US has a more aggressive culture?’

  ‘In some ways perhaps, yes, but I didn’t mind that. They knew how to get things done, they had drive.’

  ‘Anyway you came back.’

  ‘In a lot of ways life over there suited me. The corporation fixed me up with a very good apartment. I travelled a lot, the States, Central America and the Middle East. Worked on some substantial deals. My ambition was to reach director level, but two colleagues with family connections moved up the ladder ahead of me.

  I put pressure on my boss who made some excuse about maybe US citizens having a bit of an advantage. I spoke to Personnel, but they either knew nothing or were not going to give me any hint of what the pecking order was. The US sells itself as the land of freedom and opportunity. They don’t tell you that being a second cousin to the founding family or an in-law of one of the major shareholders is the key to getting on. Anyway my prospects became less good. The corporation was hit by economic recession, oil prices fell, and they had to cut back. By this time my father had retired, but he still had influence in the family firm, so, finally he got his way, I did what he had always wanted me to.’ He held up his cup and swigged the last of his coffee. ‘So here we are.’

  Rather cheekily I said, ‘Your father retired? Partners do go eventually, then.’

  ‘Hmph. You’re right though, some of the old codgers hang on long after they’ve ceased to be any use to the firm. The place is in need of a damn good shake-up. Not my father though, he had more strength of character. Anyway, enough of my history. How about you? Happy in your work at the moment?’

  ‘No complaints.’

  ‘Not quite the same as being happy, is it? Something may be coming up, if you felt like a change. There’s a little team I’ve set up. Might be a role for someone with an information technology background. You’d have to leave your current unit and involve yourself in some general management and accountancy issues for – I don’t know – six months, maybe longer. Interested?’

  ‘Like to hear more, yes.’

  ‘Nothing’s settled, a preliminary report has gone to a few of the senior partners, most have yet to see it. You’ll keep all this strictly to yourself?’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘Approval to go beyond the feasibility study will take another three or four weeks. Let’s talk about it again then.’

  Chapter 4

  Joining Peter’s secret team meant taking risks that could not be quantified. The aim was to bring about a merger with another slightly smaller accountancy firm, and the desirability of this objective was questionable. A few similar marriages between City accounting partnerships had taken place during the past year, but if a union proved to be a mistake the problems were hardly likely to be made public.

  The team’s preliminary report recommended a detailed assessment of all the implications of the proposed merger. Peter gave me a copy, warning that if anyone else became aware of the project a severe penalty would follow, not only for me for leaking the report, but for him because he would have shown dangerously poor judgement in trusting me with it.

  Every page was headed ‘Protected Confidential Information’. The first chapter compared the bigger City accountancy firms by volume of business and market sector, the next two described the organisation and business of the two firms, and the conclusion speculated on the potential benefits of bringing together a long established City firm with one that was younger and more attuned to growing new technology businesses. Graphs and diagrams showed the more balanced spread of work which would result, how the new firm would rank in size among its rivals, and suggested that it would have greatly improved potential to attract new clients.

  The next stage was to examine the organisational changes which would result from the merger, develop detailed plans, and analyse costs. If the project came to nothing after six months, all of the team’s work would end up being archived until it had gathered enough dust to be thrown out. Irrespective of the quality and extent of my efforts, my career would suffer because of my association with a failure.

  Peter did not try to deny the risk, but promised to make sure whatever the outcome I would be able return to my old job. My immediate boss was in awe of the partners and quickly agreed to hire a stand-in from an agency so as to keep my place open for me. However a lot can happen in six months; any reorganisation during my absence might leave me with a rag-bag of tasks that nobody else wanted, and stand-ins can sometimes entwine themselves into the workplace in ways that make them very difficult to dislodge.

  Weighing against all the potential disadvantages was the prospect, if the merger succeeded, of becoming one of a small number of people with advanced knowledge of all that would be entailed. As everyone struggled to grasp how the changes would affect them, my knowledge and advice would be in high demand. A generous bonus could be expected, and perhaps a pay rise and even another promotion. After going over the arguments for and against in my mind time and again, and discussing the implications of joining the
team with Andrew and others, I gambled that the potential benefits of success outweighed the possible consequences of failure.

  Until I joined, the team consisted of three accountants. From our firm there was a partner of Peter’s age and a junior who had recently qualified. Representing the smaller firm was a female partner; the news that a woman had been entrusted with such an important role had yet to be broken to the old codgers. Peter was very selective about what he told them, releasing morsels of information bit by bit in bland terms, avoiding anything that might seem new or unusual, so that the merger came to be perceived as a familiar old theme developing at a gradual pace, not as something radical or revolutionary.

  To keep us apart from other members of staff we were put in a room on a floor of the building mostly occupied by another company. Our title, ‘Business Strategy Unit’, gave no clue as to our real purpose. Even to meet old colleagues from the IT Unit for lunch was risky; my evasiveness about my new job increased their curiosity. Of the team members only the female partner was friendly towards me, the Lindler & Haliburton men evidently believing themselves to be on too high a plane to have much to do with a technical IT specialist.

  At my first team meeting they made it clear they wanted me to keep to IT issues. In a way this suited me, allowing me to organize my own time and to visit the smaller firm’s IT Unit. To maintain secrecy, Peter arranged for me to be introduced there as a consultant brought in to review system security, giving me a plausible reason to ask about all aspects of their systems and procedures.

  The atmosphere at the smaller company was much less formal than at Lindler & Haliburton. Everyone used first names, and during breaks people talked about windsurfing and mountain biking rather than playing golf and attending Rotary Club dinners. When the head of the IT Unit tentatively asked if I was married, telling him that I was gay seemed easy and natural. ‘Oh,’ he said, ‘you’ll have to let me introduce you to a couple of the accountants here, they deal with quite a few gay run businesses. It’s a growing sector.’

 

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