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The
Other side – Promotion Prospects…
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Now he was on
his way back to Head Office and Toby was about to experience his first real
selection process. He had been warned by colleagues, that he was a candidate
for promotion and all the way to Liverpool on the train he had been conjuring
up a smart slogan in case he was asked how to increase business.
‘Surreptitious infiltration’ came to mind. He deliberated for quite some
time. Those were the words,
surreptitious infiltration. He thought them over and over again. His mind
raced. I know what I think it means but what if they ask me, could I explain
it? They won’t, but what if they do, what shall I say? He kept saying to
himself; don’t use them but what else was there. They will have heard it all
before, the masons, golf club, church, knocking on doors! No, I’ll definitely
use surreptitious infiltration. |
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He was early for the appointment next day and as he
sat there on the tan leather settee in the chief officer’s annexe, his mind
drifted to that other bank bit of surreptitious infiltration he had read about
in a banking journal. Apparently some old guy, who didn’t have a banking
account, had won a football pool prize of £25,000, a considerable sum. The
pools company did everything to ensure that they did not incur any adverse
publicity. They went to great lengths to insure that their client received
the best advice and to that end had a direct link to the Bank senior
officers. When a large win occurred, they would phone the
manager of a local branch to arrange an appointment. In this particular case,
the nearest branch was the Head office of the Bank. On the Tuesday following
the win, the pools people and the old guy arrived. As they went through the
rotating teak doors a flunky dressed in a red, three-quarter length jacket,
black top hat, royal blue trousers and black patent shoes and buckles,
ushered them past a large horseshoe-shaped tellers counter. |
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In a private annexe beyond this, the old man was
introduced to the deputy bank manager. There it was explained that the Bank
would look after his money and that he could have access to it at any time.
The account was duly opened and on the very next Saturday, the old man
presented himself and asked to count his money. After much commotion, twenty
five thousand pounds was produced and he was taken to an annexe where he
counted the money. He then returned it to the cash desk and made a
deposit once again. This procedure continued, like clockwork, every Saturday,
although he didn’t always go to the same cashier. For their part the cashiers
anticipated his call and each made sure they had the money readily available.
One Saturday he collected his money as normal, from one cashier and then a
few minutes later went to the other side of the horseshoe and did it again.
This time he never returned, just disappeared with all of the cash. Toby
chuckled to himself. Surreptitious
infiltration, indeed! |
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By now, he was aware that three more colleagues had
joined him in the waiting room. It was clear he was not the only one to be
interviewed. It was going to be tough, he thought. Nothing was said as he
eyed up the opposition. Bloody hell, they all look brighter than me. A
secretary appeared, “follow me gentlemen” she said with pompous formality.
Inside another beautifully furnished room, a large highly polished table
occupied centre position. The walls were adorned with oil paintings of former
Chief General Managers. A card had been placed adjacent to four seats. “Sit
at your card and await the chief officers who will be attending”. She left
the room and after what seemed to be an eternity, a smaller door at the side
opened and out walked four poker faced men. Instantly, Toby recognised the
Deputy Chief General Manager, the Chief Superintendent of Branches and the
Principal Staff Manager. The other man he did not know. |
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Bollocks! he thought as he remembered a previous
incident, when he had exchanged words with the Chief Superintendent of
Branches. At the time, Toby was on inspection duties in Gloucester, checking
guarantee documents. This big noise was visiting the branch and had talked
with all the members of staff. Now his tour finished, he placed one foot on
the low desk where Toby was sitting. “What on earth are we going to do with
you, Gerard? You are an enigma. It might also seem that you have very little
respect for anyone”. Toby stood and looking him straight in the eye, said;
“With respect Sir, sometime in the past, I was taught that respect had to be
earned, not demanded. I take great pride in my appearance, especially my
shirt cuffs. Kindly take your foot from my clean blotting pad”. There was
silence. If a pin had been dropped, it would have sounded like a church bell.
The man turned on his heel, sucked in his breath and left the area. Victor,
his old colleague from junior clerk days, sitting alongside, said, “Toby, you
are a flaming idiot; you’ve just cut your own bloody throat”. Toby felt particularly uncomfortable: Now
all the men were introduced, to each candidate in turn. Toby thought there
may have been a hint of a smile from the man whom had been put down in
Gloucester. At first there was friendly banter. Not wishing to draw to
himself too much attention, Toby kept silence. Before long this chatter
became serious as questions were thrown at the candidates, across the table.
Toby offered nothing to this, preferring to remain silent. In turn the
inevitable question of how to increase or create business came up. |
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The
other three candidates offered the usual stock answers in the same garrulous manner
as previously demonstrated and then came Toby’s turn. “Surreptitious
infiltration”, he blurted out. There was silence and then the man whom Toby
did not know said “please explain in detail”. Damn, thought Toby.
As he opened his mouth to speak, the door opened. A
ladies bottom appeared followed by a tea trolley laden with buns, biscuits,
plates, beverage containers and napkins. “Gentlemen, may I please serve this
now”. Toby decided to remain silent and the question was never raised again.
A month later he received a letter requesting him to report to his District
General Manager. He had been appointed to a new branch to be built on the
South Coast, as Clerk in charge, with automatic upgrade to Manager within
twelve months. Surreptitious
Infiltration indeed! Extract from “The Other Side” by (Anton Rowley) a novel by
Rowland {Toby} Gerard Martins/Barclays
1953-1970.
x |
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