In Office Hours

by Lucy Kellaway

  – Great, said Bella. They can reorganize the whole place and no one ever thinks of telling me anything.

  – I tell you everything. At least, I would if I knew anything.

  There was something sweet about Ben. He used to be a journalist himself and the scruffy boyish air hadn’t left him, though after years of expense account lunches he had grown somewhat stout. He also had crooked teeth and breathed noisily.

  – Do you want a drink tonight? he asked suddenly.

  In low moments Bella had sometimes wondered if she could bring herself to go out with Ben. It was nearly three years since she had had a boyfriend of any sort, and Ben was keen and kind and even quite funny. But she always decided that he was simply too ugly – she did not mind that much about looks but there was a threshold below which she would not fall.

  – Sorry, Ben. I have to get back to my daughter.

  He looked crestfallen.

  – Another time?

  – Yes, that’d be lovely.

  A call came through from a journalist wanting to know why Atlantic Energy was raising petrol prices at the same time as declaring exceptional profits. Bella knew the answer to this herself, having heard Julia go through it often enough. But she put the call through to Ben and she was left on her own.

  Stella

  Stella had opened the email that had just arrived from the CEO.

  Have you got a moment?

  Stephen’s emails were never one word longer than strictly necessary, and the summons never gave any clue as to what he wanted to see her about. Stella briefly wondered whether it was ominous, but decided it wasn’t. When Stephen had bad news to impart he got his PA to ring and make an appointment. She emailed back:

  Sure – on my way up now. Stella

  The CEO’s office was two floors above her own, and occupied the corner of the tower with a view down towards the grey dome of St Paul’s. There was a large Persian carpet on the floor, and on the bookshelves, next to Sun Tsu’s The Art of War, was a leather-bound copy of Paradise Lost. Stephen Hinton wanted people to know that not only was he CEO of one of the biggest oil companies in the world, but he was also a man of culture. Perhaps he wouldn’t make quite such a big deal of it, Stella sometimes thought, if he wasn’t the son of an electrician from Hull. She had nothing against electricians from Hull. In fact she admired their graft. Stella, as the daughter of a distinguished professor of philosophy at Oxford University, had always felt relatively uncultured, and her way of dealing with it was to keep quiet.

  Stephen always looked undersized in his huge office, and today he was waiting for her, pacing up and down like a small, hairy animal in a cage.

  – Thanks for coming up, he said, reaching out a hand and touching her upper arm with it.

  She didn’t like being touched by people at work, but her smile didn’t falter.

  – I’ve got a people issue that I’d like your take on, he went on. Now that Julia Swanson has quit, I’ve got to decide what to do about Press Relations. We need a hard hitter there. Did you see that crap in the Daily Mail this morning saying that we should be paying a windfall energy tax?

  Stephen spat the words out scornfully and Stella, who had not seen the article, nodded knowledgeably.

  – We need someone who will knock some sense into these stupid hacks. So I was thinking about giving the department to James Staunton. It makes sense to bring media under the umbrella of External Relations. James is highly capable but I worry about his leadership style. Question: is he a great listener? You and he go back a long way and so I wondered what your take was –?

  Stella and James had joined AE as trainees at the same time, and he had always measured his progress against hers. In the early years he had done better, but more recently, especially since Stephen had become CEO and made her head of Economics, Strategy and Planning, Stella had overtaken him. Although she didn’t set store by such things, she wasn’t anxious to see his empire expand. Neither did she think it fair: he had had an affair with Julia, which he had ended. Julia was made to walk the plank; and for him to benefit from her departure did not seem right.

  – It’s complicated, said Stella slowly.

  – I know, he said. But I rely on you, Stella. You’re one of the few people in this organization that I can trust to tell me the truth.

  – Well, she ventured. Obviously James is very – competent. I mean, he was great in seeing off the Monopolies Commission on petrol prices. I know he would in theory be capable of handling media. However – I think there are issues around depth versus breadth. He already has a huge department – and so adding Press might mean stretching him rather too thin –

  – Say no more, Stella, Stephen interrupted. As ever you are right on the money. James is the man for the job. Thank you.

  And then he said: Where are you on the sustainability presentation for this month’s board?

  Stella said she would let him see a draft soon, and walked back to her desk feeling annoyed. For all his claims to be a great listener, Stephen never heard a word you said.

  Bella

  The day was passing inordinately slowly and Bella was revising her opinion about it being nice not having a boss. The clock said 4.32 – she was tempted to leave now and pick up Millie early, but she didn’t dare. Idly she clicked on the Gap website and saw in the sale some navy hoodies with white stars on them that she knew Millie would love. Bella wondered if they were worth it at £8.99. Maybe if she waited they’d be reduced some more.

  – I can see someone’s busy.

  She turned around to see Jackie Lewis, the CEO’s PA, approaching and smiling in a way that pretended to be friendly but wasn’t particularly.

  It was annoying to be caught out like this. Relations between her and Jackie were not straightforward. Jackie considered herself superior to Bella, but Bella felt better educated and brighter and didn’t really want to join Jackie and the other assistants at lunch to discuss their latest diets. Jackie took Bella’s standoffishness as a sign that Bella thought herself above administrative work and so always liked to point out all the little ways in which Bella was falling short.

  – What do you think of the reorganization? Jackie asked.

  – What reorganization?

  – Hasn’t anyone said anything to you?

  A look of mock surprise crossed Jackie’s face.

  – I’ve just done a memo from Stephen to the whole company about changes affecting the Press Office, she went on. I thought everyone here knew –

  Bella’s email flashed. She clicked off the Gap fleeces and opened the new message.

  Following the departure of Julia Swanson to a new challenge, Press Relations will be integrated with the existing External Relations department going forward and will be overseen by James Staunton in addition to his existing responsibilities. All other positions will remain unchanged. This move is aligned with our strategy of streamlining our support operations to provide critical added value at the point of delivery.

  Fantastic, Bella thought. Find out by email that your job has gone only no one bothered to tell you.

  – So what happens to me?

  Jackie shrugged.

  – Don’t worry, she said, I’m sure it will all work out for the best. You could go back to Chemicals – the pace is a bit slower there, and that might suit you better with your family responsibilities. Would you like me to put in a word?

  – No. It’s fine. Really.

  The clock said ten to five. As a small act of protest at having now lost not only her boss but also her job and having to suffer the patronage of Jackie, she decided to go home nine minutes early. Just as she was getting her coat, the phone went.

  – Hi, Bella, how are you?

  It was Julia, suddenly sounding different. How odd, Bella thought, that the very minute someone stops being your boss everything changes. Stripped of office, Julia sounded smaller and quieter and almost apologetic in asking her to forward some email addresses.

  And then, after she h
ad asked how Molly was and failed to listen to the answer, Julia asked:

  – So what’s the gossip? Who’s taking on the poisoned chalice of my job?

  Bella considered saying that she didn’t know, but what was the point?

  – It’s James, she said.

  There was a pause on the other end.

  – Really? Is he moving sideways into my job?

  There was a note of hope in her voice.

  – Um. I think he might be taking on your job in addition to his own, Bella said tentatively.

  – You’re not going to work for him, are you? Julia said quickly.

  – I don’t think so. He hasn’t asked me. I imagine that he’ll keep his current assistant. So I don’t know what I’m supposed to be doing. Which makes a change.

  Stella

  Stella stood before thirty-five management trainees in the refurbished cinema in the basement of the building. They looked impossibly young and serious and had their notebooks out ready to take notes.

  Last night she had taken her laptop to bed with her and had meant to plan what she was going to say, but Charles, who had got back slightly drunk from the private screening of a documentary about Afghanistan, seemed to think they might have sex. Stella performed a swift mental calculation. Which would be quicker: to submit at once, in which case she could get back to the presentation within five minutes, or to say no, and have him vaguely clawing at her for the next fifteen minutes? She had hitched up her nightdress and rolled towards him.

  Afterwards she hadn’t returned to the presentation as planned, because Charles had insisted that she turned out the light as he was tired and had a production meeting the next day.

  The fact that Stella had meetings all day, every day, didn’t seem to count. But she was tired too, and couldn’t be bothered to argue. She would wing it in the morning.

  Stephen was just finishing his welcome address. He was brilliant at this sort of thing. What he was saying was nonsense, of course, but the way he said it made one inclined to believe him.

  – Diverse people, common goals – that sums up Atlantic Energy. All over the world we look for people who share our ambition to be competitive, successful and a force for good. The way we work is guided by our values – integrity, creativity, dignity, partnership, transparency and sustainability. This is the organization you are joining and we are proud to have you on board. I wanted to say two more things. Welcome. And congratulations. You have joined the most dynamic oil company in the world.

  He finished, collected his papers and swooped out, raising an eyebrow at Stella.

  Russell stood up and said: Thank you, Stephen, for that. Truly inspirational, as ever. It now gives me great pleasure to introduce you to our next speaker, Stella Bradberry. Stella joined us as a management trainee, in – hope I’m not betraying any trade secrets – 1986. At this moment in time I think it’s fair to say that Stella is the most senior woman in the company. Not only does she head up Economics, Strategy and Planning, she has driven the diversity initiative, and she has been one of the key players supporting our work/life balance programme. That’s it. You don’t want to hear me droning on. Stella, over to you.

  Stella got up.

  – Thanks, Russell. Do you mind if I disagree with almost every word you’ve just said?

  There was some embarrassed laughter.

  – Alas, the only thing I agree with is that I joined in 1986, but I’m not wild about being reminded of that. I feel old enough already. As for me being the most successful woman in the company, I really don’t like this idea at all. I don’t measure myself against other women, though I don’t really think I measure myself against other men either. I just try to do my job well. I don’t always manage it … but that’s the general idea. I think I’m meant to tell you that this is a great place to work. But I’m not going to. I think I’m meant to say that this company values diversity. But that’s all bullshit.

  The trainees shifted uncomfortably and Russell gave a pained smile.

  – The fact that, as Russell has so kindly pointed out, I have been here for a long time – says something about how much I like it. Twenty-two years ago I was the only woman on this course. Now there are twelve of you. But that in itself means nothing. I’m not passionate about diversity but about hiring really good people and creating an environment in which they can do what they’re great at. Look, I don’t want to give you a lecture. I want to say that I hope you thrive here. And you will thrive if you work hard and use your brains, and every time there is something you don’t know, you find the answer by asking someone. So let’s start as we mean to go on. Over to you. Ask me whatever you like – anything at all – and I’ll do my best to answer…

  The trainees said nothing, and Stella looked around the room, smiling expectantly. She hated these moments. The speech had not been quite right: it was too brusque and too strident. She really should have given it some proper thought last night.

  Russell broke the silence.

  – Well, Stella, thank you, that was incredibly – stimulating. Um. Short but sweet. Let me put a question that I’m sure will be top of mind for everyone. How do you yourself manage to juggle your work and home life, keeping so many balls in the air?

  – With difficulty. I’ve got no ball sense whatsoever.

  There was a polite murmur of laughter.

  – No, in fact, I manage entirely thanks to others. I’m really lucky to have a supportive husband, and a nanny and a cleaning lady. And I think my kids appreciate the fact that I’m doing something stimulating – even if they don’t always appreciate it when I go home in a towering rage and scream at everyone. Atlantic Energy expects you to work hard, but we don’t expect you to mortgage your souls.

  A girl at the front in a black trouser suit put up her hand.

  – What would you say were the three key characteristics that summed up your personal brand?

  This girl looked straight out of business school: she had the tell-tale desire to order everything into groups of three.

  – I’m not a great believer in personal brands or in values. I suppose I could say: work hard, play hard, have fun – but I don’t want to insult your intelligence with that. If you put a gun to my head and made me name three I’d say: Be brave. Be inventive. Try to do the right thing.

  The girl nodded, apparently satisfied with these platitudes.

  Then a red-haired man at the back said:

  – Do the right thing? What is the right thing? Have you ever done the wrong thing?

  Stella looked at him. He was tipping his chair backwards and put the question in a way that struck her as slightly impudent. It was OK for her to break the rules. She had earned that right over two decades. It was less OK for him.

  – There are three questions there, and the middle one is too philosophical, she replied. We are an active organization, not a reflective one. What I am saying is that over time you get a better feeling for what the right thing is. And have I done the wrong thing? Yes, often, but usually because I didn’t know it was wrong until it was too late.

  He fixed his light blue eyes on her and gave a smirk.

  Bella

  – Hi Bella, it’s Russell. Can I cadge a favour? I need you to help out with the graduate trainee induction day this morning in the Cormorant Cinema Suite. Someone’s got to check the trainees off against the managers they are assigned to and look after them at lunchtime. Can you come down in five?

  Bella slipped in at the back of the cinema, where Stella Bradberry was on the stage talking about work/life balance and nannies and supportive husbands. It was all very well, Bella thought. Try having work/life balance when you are a single mother and when your child is collected from school every day by an obese childminder who demands extra money if you are five minutes late picking her up.

  Though maybe Stella wasn’t too bad, Bella thought. At least she talked like a human being. As she watched, she could see why Julia had been so jealous of her. There was a naturalness about
her, attractive in a blue-stockingy, not-trying-too-hard way. Bella wondered how old she was. If she had been a trainee twenty-two years ago – when Bella was barely at primary school – that must make her about forty-four or forty-five now, though she looked much younger.

  Stella was talking about how everyone at AE was encouraged to do what they were good at. This, Bella knew from experience, was a lie. No one had ever taken the remotest interest in finding out what she was good at. She stopped listening and instead imagined that she was Trinny or Susannah and was giving Stella a makeover.

  For a start she would tell her to throw away the grey trouser suit and flat pumps. The suit fitted her well but wasn’t very feminine. Bella would have put her in killer heels with a small platform at the front, which would make her half a head taller than the CEO. And then a simple black dress that was stretchy and showed how slim she was. Or maybe not black; Stella’s skin was too pale for that. Red might be nicer – she’d seen a Kate Moss dress in a magazine that would be just right. The plain gold chain necklace Stella was wearing was boring. A silver Tiffany pendant would be more striking.

  A trainee was asking a question in an aggressive fashion. Bella looked at the name on his badge – which said Rhys Williams – and saw that he was due to have been Julia’s trainee. Now someone else would have to take him instead.

  The session came to an end, and it was Bella’s job to take the trainees down to the canteen. Most of them squeezed into one lift together and Bella found herself rammed up against Rhys. The whole lift fell quiet.

  – Where are you from in Wales? she asked him, to break the silence.

  He muttered the name of a town that she didn’t catch.

  – I went to uni in Wales, Bella volunteered. In Bangor.

  No one said anything to this, so she added: But I left after the first year.

  Conversation over lunch was desultory; the trainees discussed the morning with each other; Bella’s views were not invited. One of the girls said: I thought Stella Bradberry was impressive, and nice. Incredibly down to earth.

  – I thought she was patronizing, and she clearly thinks the sun shines out of her arse, said Rhys.