Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 ï>¿Much later in the afternoon I did go back into the office, if only to
say hello.  As I'd expected, both Naz and Seff were about and looking
extremely busy ...  even before they saw me.  In fact the office was pretty
much as I'd left it, except that Naz had sort of expanded his workspace
across both my and Debbie's desks, occupying the space with some large
format print outs of code models - all heavily annotated, I noticed - while
Seff's desk had accumulated a variety of accessories - in trays, pen
holders, etc - which somehow managed to look simultaneously professional
and jokey.  The only other thing that seemed to have changed was the music
- instead of Naz's relentless techno, they were actually playing the Dead -
Reckoning, in fact.  Wonders never cease, I thought, as Seff - talking
animatedly on the phone - finally picked up on my presence, waved in
acknowledgement and threw a ball of crumpled paper at Naz, thereby alerting
him to my arrival as well.  Someone had obviously been working on Naz's
social skills - no prizes for guessing who, I thought - as he managed to
not only smile and say hello but also instantly began to get coffees
together.  He even began talking to me, even before Seff had come off the
phone - possibly the first time, I thought, that he had ever initiated a
conversation - and so I was soon up to my neck in exciting programming
developments, new concepts he'd come up with and generally a lot of tech
speak that mostly went straight over my head.  It was nice to see him so
enthusiastic, though.  But still a relief when Seff finally managed to get
a few words in and update me on what had been going on while I'd been away.
Apparently ripples of discontent on the part of PCW had also reached the
office - well, no surprise, there - but then so had a number of enquiries
from potential customers, including a major pharmaceutical firm and three
separate financial institutions, two of them in Germany.  I had a quick
scan over the latter ...  realised that I was going to be really, really
busy for a while ...  and went back to chatting.  Or, more precisely,
updating the team on developments, both in terms of the relocation and more
pertinently about Debbie's situation and likely staged return.  As you'd
expect, both bits of news went down really well and by the time I'd
confirmed that in a fortnight or so they would both be going to Bremen to
see our potential collaborators - and Seff's old friends - joy was
definitely in the air.  Which was good, I felt, the more so when I finally
looked at some of the messages on my desk and realised just how much Seff
had been carrying while I was away ...  some of the PCW stuff was
unpleasant to the point of bullying, frankly, and notably more intimidating
in tone than anything that had been said to me directly.  I pointed this
out to Seff, asked her why she hadn't passed it directly to me ...  hell, I
would probably have come straight back and started shouting at the bastards
in person.  In response, Seff gave me a somewhat German shrug - competent,
confident, in control - and told me that that was precisely why she hadn't
told me.  It was nothing to worry about, she said, which I wasn't entirely
sure I agreed with, but also that I had looked tired before going and she
felt that I needed a break.  And, she added mischievously, both she and Naz
were looking forward to moving to the hills, which needed me to sort things
out up there, so ...  I pointed out that if PCW were to decide to pull the
plug - and the threat was at least implicit in some of the comments she'd
noted - then not only would we not be moving, but we'd all be out of work,
too.  To which Naz responded by stating rather simply that both of them -
and Debbie, he said - had complete confidence in my ability to pull
something out of the bag, even if it did get nasty ...  just like I had
with that chinese woman Carla had sent over.  I was on the point of making
a somewhat sarcastic response to this - the old 'lets introduce our
friendly lesbian to their closeted one' ploy was not guaranteed to work in
all circumstances, I felt - but luckily was saved from doing so by the
entrance of Colin, one of the partners in the architects practice upstairs.
Which I guess was just as well ...  not that I thought I deserved the
confidence they'd expressed, but I couldn't really see much point in
disillusioning them just at that moment.  So I turned to Colin, a guy I'd
only met in passing - on the stairs, when borrowing a corkscrew, that sort
of thing - and welcomed him in, my body language probably expressing the
curiosity I felt about what brought him down to see us ...  when I'd been
planning to go and see him in about five minutes time.  Seff picked up on
this and stepped in to explain - she'd negotiated the use one of the
offices upstairs to do the interviews the next day, as we had no private
space in our own bit of the building.  Which I thought was good thinking on
her part - if I'd thought about it all I think I'd envisaged putting the
phones to voice mail, sending both of them off to a cafe and holding them
right here.  As it was, I agreed it was a good idea and asked Colin if it
was OK, that we wouldn't be putting them to any trouble?  He gave a
slightly bitter laugh in response, told me that the most interesting thing
he had to do all day was come down and check with Seff whether there were
any particular arrangements she wanted made, room wise.  Things, it
appeared, were not going well in the eco-architecture business ...  which
was music to my ears, at least.  In fact, I think he was a bit pissed off
when I responded to his tale of woe and imminent corporate dissolution with
a cheerful "Good!" ...  so I had to quickly recover myself ...  very
quickly recover myself, in fact ...  by outlining the progress we'd made on
our new building and the fact that I'd been planning to come see him about
it that very afternoon.  He perked up a bit at that, said that Debbie had
asked him to do some preliminary work on plans - which I'd seen, of course
- but hadn't been able to give him any definite time-scales, then didn't
look remotely nonplused when I told him that I'd been hoping he - or
someone from the practice - might be able to go up and do few days on site
the next week.  He agreed that that should be possible ...  becoming more
certain when I suggested that we would book - and pay for - hotels and
transport and finally, completely convinced when I mentioned that he would
be working for the duration with Debbie.  Who, he informed me was just an
amazingly lovely woman, and someone he'd like to get to know a whole lot
better.  Which sentiment I could understand, I thought, acidly ...  as Seff
choked back a laugh ...  and I managed to maintain a polite smile.  * **
*** **** ***** **** *** ** * Next morning, I was actually in quite late - I
came via Euston, where I managed to catch Debbie - and May - just before
the former got the train up to Glasgow, giving her a couple of books to
read on the train and promising to give her a call over the weekend.  And
once she'd got on her way, I came back to the office with May - who'd be
sitting in on the interviews, later, anyway - to find Colin The Architect
already ensconced at Debbie's desk, print outs of the building plans for
our new HQ competing with Naz's stuff for desk space.  We had a brief
discussion about working arrangements, preferences for office layouts and
stuff - most of which would only be defined in detail after his initial
visit - and then talked rather more about our vision with regard to
sustainability and minimal environmental impact ...  as well as using local
materials and local craftsmen as far as possible.  At the end of which he
looked quite excited - well, there was more actual design work to be done
than he'd probably expected - while Seff and Naz were completely distracted
from whatever it was they were supposed to be doing ...  and May just
looked gobsmacked at the amounts of money we were talking about spending. I
made a mental note to formalise our corporate charitable giving policy - I
thought 5% of profits, minimum - and to include CareSpan in the recipient
list as soon as possible.  In the interim, I did at least give her the
benefit of £ 2.50 of our corporate wealth by taking her out for a coffee.
Which largesse had a purpose - not just in giving Colin some space to start
doing some thinking, rather than listening to our daydreams - and Naz and
Seff the opportunity to get back to work - but also in giving us a moment
to discuss interview tactics prior to the arrival of the HR bloke from PCW
who was to be the third member of the panel.  Technically, this is called
'stitching up' the process, given that the pair of us constituted a
majority ...  It was also, of course, not necessary - May and I understood
each other quite well, by now - and both had a clear idea of the way that I
was trying to set things up ...  and the sort of person who'd thrive in
that sort of environment.  So we didn't have a huge amount to talk about,
task-wise.  In fact, I thought we'd have to resort to discussing the
weather, or something - it was another lovely afternoon, since you ask -
when May quite abruptly changed the subject, raising stuff she quite
clearly thought important to say.  Which, of course, concerned Debbie ...
or Debbie and me ...  or the three of us ...  Whatever.  I listened to what
she had to say, explained that Debbie had already told me all about it and
that, no, I wasn't at all upset about events and, yes, she was still on my
christmas card list.  Or, at least, would be if I actually celebrated
christmas.  She looked profoundly relieved at this ...  rather strangely, I
felt, given that it was a no-brainer from my point of view, so I went on:
"May, you know how I feel about Debbie ...  or at least I think you do ...
but you also know that she has a lot of stuff she needs to work through -
emotions and relationships wise - so anything there may be between us is
most definitely on hold for the moment.  Which doesn't mean that she
doesn't need people about, doesn't need to have and to hold ...  all that
sort of stuff.  I'm glad you were there for her ...  glad that she seems to
be getting on OK.  So lets hear no more about it ...  its not a problem. 
You don't have to make it one." With which she hugged me, tightly, muttered
something like 'Thanks' into my ear ...  and we went back to the office.  *
** *** **** ***** **** *** ** * Arriving, we found Naz with his feet on his
desk, ostentatiously throwing a stress ball against the wall, while Seff
was sitting rather primly at hers, looking like she might start filing her
nails at any point.  OK, I thought, a point is being made here ...  but I
didn't know what ...  or to whom.  Until, that is, May touched me on the
arm, indicated a new presence in the office ...  sitting quietly in the
corner.  Closer examination revealed this to be man of middle age, tightly
buttoned into a three piece, chalk stripe suit and clutching a briefcase to
his chest.  He looked, I thought, curiously, completely terrified.  I
continued to examine the apparition, aware that May, too, was giving him a
silent once over, and agreed with myself.  This was not a nervous man ...
not a case of pre-interview nerves or anything ...  this was a guy in a
state of mortal fear.  I wondered just what Naz and Seff had been up to ...
then shrugged and finally remembered to introduce myself.  Our guest
actually responded directly to May ...  eventually.  Before doing so, I saw
him mentally flinch at my frayed jeans and crumpled t-shirt, then noted the
relief at seeing my companion in her rather smarter business-casual
dress'n'jacket ensemble.  Turns out he was not, in fact, our first
candidate but actually the third member of our panel, the representative of
PCW's HR people.  I silently added Ms Alison White to my list of potential
contributors to his current mental toil, then got it together and asked him
if he'd like a coffee.  I think it did occur to him that we might spike the
stuff, or something, but eventually I got a sort of jerky nod and went off
to do the business.  May, meanwhile, went all professional on us - the
spoil sport - and started to be gently kind and reassuring.  Which seemed
to work, after a while (or maybe he just remembered the potential monetary
value of the people in the room, whatever we might look like), and I
stopped mentally rehearsing CPR techniques as he began to look just a
little less uptight.  It was a shame, really, that I was just in the
process of handing him a mug of quite hot liquid when Colin decided to
arrive ...  barging through the door, backwards ...  and carrying a large
box of printouts ...  which hit me quite hard on the elbow ...  of the arm
in which I was holding the drink ...  We got our guest cleaned up
eventually, though, and more or less calmed him down - actually, he'd gone
quite catatonic, for some reason - and eventually got him upstairs.  Where
we proceeded to interview.  Even if he didn't really say much throughout
the process ...  at least until the "discussion" that followed.  * ** ***
**** ***** **** *** ** * And that was how we got our fifth recruit ...  guy
called Gareth, and just as Welsh as that made him sound.  Not a large bloke
...  almost gnomelike, as Seff put it later, with what could only be
described as crumpled fair hair and thick lensed glasses.  He was currently
working as a contract lawyer for an investment bank (Mr PCW impressed)
which he told us he hated (Mr PCW unimpressed).  Perhaps more interestingly
- no, absolutely more interestingly, for us, were the facts that he was a
keen climber, was developing ideas on legal 'expert systems' in his spare
time and was wearing a Liberty tie.  Liberty as in the lobby group, I mean,
not the fabric pattern.  Also counting in his favour was the further fact
that the other candidate turned out to be a corporate clone of the first
water.  So, given that Gareth was the second of the two we saw, I don't
think I was particularly out of order in immediately making him a verbal
offer - subject to references etc etc - after exchanging only the briefest
of nods with May.  This went down well with the candidate - he punched the
air and said something guttural in Welsh - but rather less so with PCW Man.
Apparently there were processes I should have followed, processes which
appeared to mean that it would take about a fortnight to make a decision
... so bugger that, I felt.  Things actually looked like they might get
heated - well, heated by the standards of a man of his age and class,
anyway - but once again May switched on the emollience and calmed him down
sufficiently to get him out of the room ...  and the building.  I wondered
what would be reported back to PCW HQ ...  then decided to forget it, go
back and join the crew ...  maybe talk to Colin a bit about his ideas to
date.  In fact, when we got back to our own offices - pausing only to thank
Colin and co's reception staff for their help during the day - we found not
a productive and focused development team but rather a four way game of
catch, involving Naz and Seffi as well as Colin and Gareth himself.  Oh,
and a micro Frisbee had appeared from somewhere to join the stress ball. 
Still, everyone looked happy - which was nice - and neither Naz nor Seff
seemed inclined to complain that I'd not checked with them about their
perceptions from the informal meetings they'd had with the candidates
beforehand.  Well, it wasn't really a close decision ...  as it had turned
out.  It was clear that very little work was going to get done that day,
and it was Friday, after all, so I kind of suggested that we should move
out of the office and get a coffee, or something ...  and we all ended up
in a pub.  Which was fun, too ...  Gareth fitting in very quickly, Colin
getting more and more carried away with his ideas as the drink took hold,
Naz and Seffi sitting arm in arm but fully engaged in the conversation and
May almost observing ...  almost acting like the friendly adult to a party
of ebullient youth.  I just ended up paying for most of the drinks.  Still,
it was a good evening ...  and a good start.  I slipped away at one point
to give Debbie a phone - she'd just arrived in Glasgow - and told her the
news about her new colleague, wished her luck with the not-quite in-laws.
She sounded happy, pleased that the interviews had gone well and slightly
amused at my excitement, I thought.  Still, it had been a good day, at
least in London, and, we agreed, what could possibly go wrong now?