An Excellent Friend

That sinking feeling of being called to a ‘three-line whip’ meeting. The guidelines to all staff, if not based in London, were to use the conference video service and dial in from the various offices based in the UK. It was clear that all must attend. She knew her team of work colleagues were perked up, finding this type of compulsory meeting exciting, as indeed was any interruption to their customary, standard routine.

But for her, even the rumours swirling around the office regarding the upcoming meeting failed to brighten her up. She found nothing connected to her job exciting or buzzy except the payslip delivered to her desk each month.

During an interminable working month, the only thing that helped liven things up was a meet-up with Philip, her friend and mentor. They usually met in one of the many historic pubs dotted around the old City, often once a month, but if things were dire, then more often. As she pushed against the main door, she searched for him. Once their eyes locked and she saw his broad welcoming smile, she would immediately experience a warm emotion of comfort and inner calm at seeing his friendly face. Her worn, anxious-ridden features would instantly light up as she returned his smile. Philip, a good-looking, gay man, at least seventeen years her junior, would be sitting patiently waiting, exuding an air of efficiency and bursting with one positive idea after another.

Philip told her many years later that he had never ceased to be surprised at the sight of her arrival at most of their meetings. Her face wore a worried, taut, exhausted expression, stiff shoulders almost rubbing the base of her ears, and her stooped back, beginning to show the early signs of a hump, marked her hesitant entrance. As she travelled the short distance from the door to where Philip was sitting, the worries of the world would lift first from the eyes, travel swiftly down the face and reach a barely visible thin line situated between the nose and chin, almost unexpectedly two plump lips would pop out and provide the final touches to what was now an attractive face; the shoulders miraculously straightened and a surprisingly younger, happier, more positive woman appearing at his side.

He’d already ordered the coffee and, patting the space next to him on the sofa, indicated where she should sit. As she took her seat, her mouth with those pink lips was already starting to flap as she readied herself to pour her troubles on Philip’s willing shoulders. Her mantra was ‘a trouble shared was a trouble halved’. She planned to talk and talk about the problems with her job and leave the pub probably an hour later feeling considerably better than when she had first come in. What would Philip get out of this encounter? She never gave it a moment’s thought. She was blissfully ignorant of what benefit he got out of these meetings. She was so glad she had a friend who seemed to understand her. He never appeared stressed by the end of the hour and would always wish her well with the hope that things improved.  

Philip’s motivation was his problem-solving qualities, and if questioned, his mantra was probably ‘a problem identified is a problem half-solved.’. Unlike Saffy, it would never occur to Philip to discuss a situation unless there was a solution to be achieved.  

Sitting with Saffy in the pub month in, month out, Philip knew the answer would have to come from him as she seemed quite incapable of escaping out of the gloom she was wallowing in. He would listen, and out would come his notepad and pen and he’d start enthusiastically jotting items down. Philip had planned to get her to identify her problem and then persuade her to start sorting out a solution. He imagined that the two of them would then work on the plan, and hey presto, Saffy would be the proud owner of a new positive life.  

Saffy had no interest in a solution. In her mind, a solution would require work, and she felt she was drained of all energy needed to achieve a way out. She lacked any belief in her abilities, and although she had told Philip many times, she didn’t think he fully grasped how useless she was. He would say positive things about her intelligence and quick grasp of situations, and she would sit in wonder, trying to figure out why on earth he would think these things. She just wanted to share the awfulness of her life, get Philip’s sympathy, drink the coffee and go home. Tomorrow it would start again, it would be no different from the day before, and after a few days, she would phone Philip and beg him to meet her so she could tell him her latest problems.

‘So, how’s it going?’ Philip said

‘OK”, she said

‘Only OK?’

She raised her cup for a quick sip of coffee, and then she’d set off at a gallop, barely pausing for breath. That sheer relief of moaning, vomiting out the criticisms she felt she had endured, explaining in detail what a martyr she had been to one and all. Eventually, she ran out of oxygen and was forced to pause, intending to take only a tiny breather as she had so much more to complain about, but Philip jumped in. She tried not to look annoyed that he was stealing her verbal space and smiled indulgently at him.

‘Why don’t you leave?’

‘Don’t be stupid, Philip. I have a mortgage to pay, credit card bills, food to buy’. 

She looked at him witheringly. Philip was great, but sometimes he was a real dork, and this was one of those days.

‘I don’t mean walk out with no job - that would be stupid. No, I mean, get another job and then leave.’

Another stupid plan. He was clearly indulging in the fantasy of ‘her intelligence and quick grasp of situations’.

‘How long do you plan to work for this company?’ he asked.

‘Until I retire.’

‘But you hate it.’

‘What else can I do?’ 

‘Apply for a different job.’

They’d been having similar conversations for months, and everything suggested was flatly turned down, and if she couldn’t think of a good enough reason, she would change the subject.

‘Philip, I’m too old. Who the hell is going to have me?’

Philip’s whole face changed. She looked nervously at him to ensure it was an expression signifying a doubling down of the sympathy she craved.  

’Good, my age will shut him up. He’ll now understand his stupidity in thinking companies just long to employ me.’

Philip was happily underway on his ‘Solutions Journey’, and the expression she’d seen on his face was not sympathy but victory.  

‘Oh, Saffy, I’m so sorry I had no idea. I just never took your age into account.’

She breathed slower, calmer, thinking, ‘Keep listening to my problems and stop interrupting with these dumb solutions.’

‘Well, you must have thought what an idiot I was talking about getting another job. Too old. I am so sorry; I just wasn’t thinking.’; the victor continued.

‘It’s OK, Philip’, she said benevolently and almost patted his arm to show no bad feelings.

‘Look, when can we next meet? How about Tuesday? Same time, the same place?’

She felt confused. He’d never arranged to meet her immediately after a meeting and certainly not halfway through a current meet-up. Had she made him feel that sorry for her? She felt guilt rising at his show of such deep concern for her.

‘Tuesday? Yep?’ he said.

‘OK,’ she said uncertainly.

‘And you will be able to bring me all those company letters you’ve received’.  

Perplexity crossed her features.  

‘You know, the ones telling you that you are too old and hence they don’t want to employ you. You must have quite a few by now. You can bring all those letters with you, can’t you? Yes?’

Damn! He’d got her.

‘No’, she said.

‘And why not?’

‘Because I haven’t got any letters,’ she mumbled.

Ah ha,’ he exclaimed triumphantly. ‘It’s all in your head about no one wanting you; you haven’t even tried. You want to sit and moan and do nothing about it. Saffy, you get one life; for god’s sake, try and enjoy it. You are giving every sign of not enjoying it right now.  Bring your cv with you next time we meet, and let’s try and get you underway. See you in a couple of weeks WITH the cv.’

They discussed a few other things and went their different ways.

She’d lost. She knew she’d lost. She was terrified of trying to find another job, and yes, it might all be in her head, but she firmly believed she was far too old and useless to get another job. What the hell was she going to do now that Philip had taken over the reins? Shit. More depressed than ever, she dragged herself back to the office, pushing the thought of writing a cv and looking for a job to the very back of her mind.  

She worked in a large, modern, expensive office in the city. The company was a global player and just oozed money, ambition, and status and paid her a generous salary. She worked with a team of girls who seemed to adore her and whose conversations were funny and a joy to be heard. She knew that outwardly she appeared to excrete confidence and was considered entertaining and good fun, but in truth, she was terrified of everyone, everything and anything. The senior staff she worked for seemed to have arrived from another planet, and despite having zero idea what they thought of her work, she was convinced they had no time for her. No wonder she couldn’t think of seeking another job when in her mind, she couldn’t remotely do this one.

Philip pushed her, finally got her to work on her cv, and arranged for her to meet recruitment and career specialists. The specialists had the same problem as Philip and felt her undeniably employable, and no amount of trying to persuade them otherwise seemed to work. She knew her lack of enthusiasm for the project, ‘Get Her a New Job,’ must have been annoying, but Philip's enthusiasm never waned.

So here she was in the office, participating in a typical day of stress and boredom. She was trying to answer the large number of emails coming in. The more she answered, the more emails arrived. Ping, ping, ping. Whilst trying to answer a complicated email requiring a highly detailed, meticulous answer - the author of the email kept sending more emails saying:

‘Why aren’t you answering my emails?’  

She was, she was, but not quickly enough. Her stress levels slowly rose, and she sensed she was snapping at people who had been dumb enough to try to engage in small pleasantries as they passed by her desk. Throughout the morning, the phone rang and rang. She ignored all calls, terrified it might be from the sender of the most challenging emails demanding a perfect, legally-binding answer. The phone’s voicemail started flashing and flashing. Ring, ring, ring, the phone persisted; ping, ping, ping went her Inbox. Her hands searched anxiously for the aspirins in her handbag. Her head was pounding. She glanced at herself in the reflection of the laptop screen and watched her features becoming stiffer as she began to drown helplessly under stress.

One of the girls stopped by her desk.

‘Don’t forget we have a compulsory meeting to attend this afternoon at 4.00 in Lecture Room 2’, she said excitedly. Susie loved compulsory emergency meetings as she always felt these would be exciting.

‘I don’t think I can go,’ she replied uncertainly.  This meeting was of no interest to her - how could it be - the company was of no interest to her. She had all those emails to answer and the phone calls piling up on her answer machine.’

‘Sorry, Saffy, but you have to. We all have to attend, including senior staff.’

She felt her stomach plunge, and her head pounded even more.  

‘Damn, damn, damn. Don’t start crying and acting like a child. You’re supposed to be able to manage a team, not sit crying at your desk because you can’t do your job’, she whispered to herself.

She left her desk, found a quiet room, pinned a ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign on the door and proceeded to thump her way through one email after another, chewing on a chocolate bar for lunch. Finally, she had to be dragged from the room and almost frog-marched to the allocated Lecture Room.  

There was no space to sit next to anyone she knew, so she sat in a dark corner with a group of people she had never seen before. An excited buzz bounced off the walls as they waited for the meeting to commence. People excitedly waved at recognised colleagues when like magic, quietness fell.

At 4.00 precisely, the doors had swung open, and in walked several Senior Partners plus the Human Resources Director with various members of his team. The lights were immediately dimmed, and multi-coloured slides appeared on the enormous screens. An air of expectation hung over the Lecture Room. The general restlessness, shifting in seats, and clearing of throats suddenly ceased. The silence was so overwhelming that her head jerked up from her phone to see what was happening. The entire audience was straining forward, transfixed by the slides and barely breathing. REDUNDANCIES, the slides yelled. From the depths of the dark lecture theatre, she heard sobs, really deep, distressed sobs. She heard people wailing, ‘My job, my job’.

She sat quietly in the dark, surrounded by distress, and fought like hell to stop a huge grin from spreading over her face. ‘Thank god, thank god.’ she thought. Saffy felt an exciting feeling of sheer relief bubbling in her stomach and slowly flooding her whole body. From within the room's darkness, she alone seemed to exude the one bright, happy, shining light. She knew she couldn’t wait to leave. Thanks to Philip, she had her completed CV, had discussed her new career with appropriate advisers and her brain now carefully put the last untidy files away. With clear thought and positivity, she was ready for the change in her life.  

As she left the room, controlling the desire to hum, she saw her worried, dejected team, most of them near to tears. She walked over, knowing that her role was to support, instruct and provide understanding. In sum, everything Philip had given her; she would now share. She approached her team with her shoulders and back straight, her features mysteriously strong and fearless.  

 ‘We meet tomorrow at 9.00 to plan and discuss our exciting futures’ going forward. Meanwhile, I suggest you leave early and go together for a drink. Enjoy your evening, and be ready with some positive thoughts going forward tomorrow. We’ll be fine.”

As everyone left the office, she was left alone to finish off her day’s most urgent tasks. Her cell phone rang.

‘Can I speak to Saffy, please?’ said a woman’s voice.

‘Speaking’

‘Hello, this is Veronique from PJ Associates. We’ve been approached by the Prime Recruitment Specialists recommending you to our company. Is there any way you could come to discuss what we believe is an exciting new appointment that we could both benefit from?

After the call, singing quietly under her breath, she phoned Philip.