The Opportunities of Youth

by Donald Phillips

Chapter Seven

  The Meeting, September 1982

  Tony was torn between getting to the office early to get him self mentally ready for the meeting with Cheryl and Roy and getting there later. In the end he settled for later. That would mean that they would be waiting on him instead of the other way around and after all, if they were setting him up they would not have waited until this morning to work out the details. Consequently he picked up Wayne Douglas first and took him out to the garage where he had arranged for him to work. Wayne was one of the shortest kids Tony had ever seen. His probation Officer was fond of saying that Wayne’s record was at least twice as long as he was.

  He parked outside and telling Wayne to stay in the MGB he went in alone to make sure that Ron Peters had not changed his mind overnight about having a member of the criminal fraternity working for him. Ron had not which pleased Tony as Wayne had some twenty-seven counts of taking and driving away against his name. After spending a few moments passing the pleasantries Tony went out to get Wayne.

  The car was empty. No sign of Wayne to be seen. “Done a runner at the prospect of actually working for a living” thought Tony. He was surprised because when he had picked Wayne up this morning he had been better turned out than Tony had ever seen him so he had thought the kid really wanted this job. He stared up and down the street, but there was no sign of him. He was just about to turn away when he spotted Wayne’s head bobbing up into view in the passenger seat. In a car as low as the MGB he must have been practically on the floor to be out of sight earlier. What on earth was he doing down there? The answer hit him like a brick. Looking under the dashboard to see how the wiring went on the MGB. Looking to see how easy it would be to hotwire Tony’s car, the little sod.

  In a few giant strides Tony was at the side of the car. Leaning through the open sunroof he grabbed Wayne by the hair and actually lifted him off the seat so that his now bulging eyes were at roof level.

  “Listen to me you treacherous little Git,” he breathed in Wayne’s ear, “if this car ever goes missing I will be round to your house first thing and I will hotwire you to the bloody mains. Do you understand?”

  He lifted the kid an inch higher for emphasis and then dropped him back onto the seat. Opening the door he grabbed him by the front of the shirt and roughly pulled him out of the car.

  “Give me one good reason why I should take you in there?” he hissed. “One good reason when I have just caught you working out how to hot wire my own bloody car?”

  He shook Wayne and then released him. Wayne looked at him like a frightened sparrow. He brushed at his wrinkled shirt front and now wildly sticking up hair.

  I wasn’t doing that Tony, honest. Christ, anyone can wire one of these, but I wasn’t doing that, honest. I was looking for me lighter. I dropped it and was looking for it.”

  Tony glared at him and then knelt down next to the open door and examined the foot well. Nothing. He put his hand under the seat and felt all between the seat runners. Still nothing. He straightened and locked the car, anger beginning to fade. After all he knew what type of kids he was getting involved with when he took the job. He turned to Wayne who still looked apprehensive.

  “All right Wayne you can have the benefit of the doubt, but if this car ever goes missing you will be my first port of call. Come on.”

  He walked towards the garage with Wayne galloping to keep up. The interview went quite well. Ron Peters was impressed with Wayne’s knowledge and after the usual lecture on time keeping and reliability told him report for work at eight the next morning and would he mind being a little tidier than he was now. Comb his hair and wear an ironed shirt maybe? Wayne gave Tony a resentful look, but just nodded.

  After he had dropped Wayne off at the Drop-In centre Tony went to the school and parked. He took his briefcase out of the back and climbed out of the MGB. As he did his foot hit something in the foot well? He looked down. It was a disposable lighter. It must have fallen on his side of the transmission tunnel. Wayne had been telling the truth. He grinned when he remembered Ron Peters telling the kid he should dress better and carefully put the lighter into his pocket until he could decide whether to apologise to Wayne or just bin it.

  When he got into the office Cheryl Baxter was sat at her desk writing on a pad of foolscap-lined paper with bright green ink. She had already filled in two sheets and was on her third. This morning she was dressed in a tight thin cotton Tee shirt under which she wore no bra if he was any judge and he was, a pair of sequinned black velvet hot pants that looked to have been sprayed on and red patent leather, knee length boots.

  Tony wished her good morning as he passed on the way to his desk by the window, but got no reply. There was no sign of Roy. “In your own good time, Cheryl,” thought Tony, and started to write up the placement he had just made and fill in the placement card. He then picked up the phone, called the probation service, and asked to speak to Malcolm Sawyer. When he answered he let Malcolm know Wayne was accepted at the garage. He then rang down to Angela and told her so she could keep her records up to date. Finally he rang Social Services and spoke to Reece Jones. He had never met the man, but he had left a message about a kid he had that he wanted Tony to meet. Tony agreed to call round to his office some time that morning. In the meantime Cheryl kept on writing.

  Tony was in a quandary. He knew this woman wanted to get him out and he knew she had a screw loose. Anyone who could just ignore a new subordinate for a month had to be just a little off the wall. He wanted to shake her up and sort things out for good, but the little girl voice she turned on when he had spoken with her on the phone worried him. In his experience, and as an ex-member of a rock band he did have some little experience; women who used little girl voices were the most dangerous kind you could come up against. Raise your voice just slightly just once and they would dissolve into tears at your rough machismo treatment of them. In the meantime they could pull all sorts of nasty tricks beneath their cover of little girl innocence. Tony decided he would kill her with kindness.

  He walked across the room to her desk and put his hand over the top of the page she was diligently covering with green ink. She stopped dead still and remained like that for several seconds. He watched her facial expression change from annoyance to trepidation as she looked up at him opening her eyes as wide as they would go.

  “Knew it,” he thought. “One angry word and she would be prepared to burst into tears of wounded innocence. This is one devious woman.”

  He gave her a gentle smile and shrugged.

  “Sorry if I startled you, but you were so far into your writing it was the only way I could think of to get your attention.” He kept the smile in place as he continued. “Roy does not seem to be here and you seem to be very engrossed in your writing,” he indicated the growing pile of green covered paper. “I have an appointment at Social Services I need to go to. I will only be gone for half an hour or so and then I can return and we can start the meeting, if you have finished that is.”

  She just looked up at him. He smiled again keeping her attention on his face while his right hand worked. “Kill the bitch with kindness,” he thought. He switched off the smile, went back to his desk, and picked up his jacket and briefcase. As he turned for the door she had her head back over her pad writing.

  “See you later.”

  There was no response and he left. At the bottom of the stairs he told Angela where he was going and the number he could be contacted at and that he would be back for his meeting with Cheryl when she had finished her writing. He had decided he would always cover his back with this woman.

  At Social Services he skipped up the stairs to reception. It was manned as usual by Anna and Glenda. They were both in their early twenties and Tony always gently flirted with them. Anna was about five feet two inches and very Celtic princess with the dark wavy hair that came down nearly to her waist and large grey eyes. She also had a fairly prominent nose which Tony felt suited her character, but which Glenda had told him one day
that she hated and was saving up to get it altered. Glenda was taller and all English Rose. Shoulder length dark blonde hair and a good figure, she was usually dressed in woollens and pleated skirts with knee length sheepskin boots. The look always reminded Tony of the flower power era and the sixties in the King’s Road. He liked both girls a lot and had been pleasantly surprised at the Social Services interface with the general public after all the bad press and publicity it seem to get on a daily basis. The press view was not his experience. Anna saw him first.

  “Hello, Tony. Go straight on down the corridor as Reece is expecting you. His is third on the left and it has his name on it.”

  Anna had been on her annual holiday and Tony had not seen her for a fortnight. He looked carefully. Something had changed. Good God. She had had her nose job done. He realised he was staring and knew Anna had seen him. She waited. He went to turn away and then turned back to her smiling.

  “Good holiday, was it?”

  She nodded, still looking a little wary. He nodded back.

  “I thought it must have been. You looked positively radiant this morning.”

  Anna’s face broke into a big smile while she flushed slightly. Behind her back Glenda was aping someone being sick at his remarks. Tony ignored her and turned away to the office.

  Reece Jones turned out to be a very Welsh man in his early forties. His build and obviously broken nose said ex-rugby player while his accent said South Wales and the valleys. He wore a suit with a tie and a very tired expression. He glanced up when Tony tapped on his door.

  “Hello there, who are you looking for?”

  Tony pointed to his nameplate on the door.

  “You. I’m Tony Filton.”

  Jones looked at his suit and tie with what was evidently some surprise. Then he nodded as though some memory had hit him and smiled.

  “Yes, I heard you were a suit man. Dressed like a salesman was what they actually said.”

  Tony was a bit put out by this and it showed on his face. Standing up Reece Jones grinned and held out his hand.

  “Don’t worry about it Tony. She said the same thing about me when I told her that the placement she had found one of my kids was rubbish. When she said the same thing about you I thought we might get on quite well so I gave you a ring. Have a seat.”

  Tony nodded as the penny dropped.

  “Cheryl Baxter.”

  Reece nodded again.

  “Right in one. She is a strange one that woman.”

  Tony wanted to ask this likeable Welshman more questions, but he had only just met him. He decided on caution.

  “I have only met her once.”

  Reece grinned.

  “Freezing you out is she Boyo? She did that to your predecessor you know. Jane Grant was a lovely girl and made to work with young people, but Cheryl didn’t want her. She gave her the cold shoulder treatment and then the injured surprise when the girl finally complained about it.” He waved a hand. “You know how it goes, if a person cannot work without supervision in this job then they had better find another one. I do not have time to run a busy office and nursemaid one of the staff. She lasted three months before she quit.” He turned to Tony. “That sound about right.”

  Tony nodded slowly.

  “I thought so. Give you a lot of difficult kids to start you off, did they?”

  Tony shrugged.

  “The kids weren’t too difficult, but the placements were shit. Most of them were with bloody farmers. They were working them far beyond their hours and letting them drive tractors would you believe? One even had a kid working on Sundays for five bob an hour.”

  He stopped realising his anger at what he had found had made him forget where he was and use some of the words he had brought from the shop floor with him. Reece Jones was laughing.

  “It’s OK, Tony. Three of those kids were mine and they are much happier now. The one at the golf course has been taken on full time you know.”

  Tony spent half an hour with Reece and they parted as old friends. Tony agreed to come to his office the following Monday to meet a kid that Reece said was afraid of ACYOP and would not go to the office or join one of the Constructions gangs of kids. He was small, not very bright, had no mother and a shiftless drunken father and was very vulnerable, could Tony do something. Tony had said he would try.

  Ten minutes later he was just going back to his office when as he entered the playground/car park an old Volkswagen Beetle finished in light blue and rust and with the headlamps adjourned with painted black lashes to make them look like eyes, made him jump swiftly aside. Cheryl Baxter was driving it. Tony gave a sigh and walked on, so much for the meeting. When he entered the office Angela stopped him. She looked worried.

  “Tony, did you tell Cheryl where you were going?”

  Tony nodded.

  “Well she made a right fuss down here telling Malcolm that you were supposed to be at a meeting, but you had gone out while she was on the phone without saying a word and not come back.”

  “Did you tell her where I was and give her the telephone number I gave you?”

  Angela was not far from tears. She did not want to be in the middle of this.

  “She said that you should have told her. She said she has been waiting half an hour for you. She said she was who you reported to not the blood receptionist.”

  He grinned at her.

  “Don’t worry about it. Does Malcolm want to see me?”

  Angela shrugged.

  Tony turned and crossed the main hall to where Malcolm’s office was situated. His Area Manager as far as Tony could tell took no part in the running of the various sections and confined himself to administration and PR functions being an ex-Social Worker. “I bet they were glad to get rid of him too.” Thought Tony.

  He rapped on the door. Malcolm was sat behind his desk and jumped at the sound. Tony walked straight in and sat down. Malcolm started to say something, but Tony held up his hand.

  “I understand that Miz Baxter has just thrown a wobbly during which she had a bit of a go at Angela?”

  Malcolm waved his hands about as he struggled to find something non-aggressive and neutral to say. Tony did not wait.

  “Has she made an official complaint?”

  Malcolm winced.

  “Not exactly official, Tony. More of an informal comment at this point in time.”

  “You mean informal until such time as she wants to make it formal when she will remind you of the problems she has had with me?” Tony said softly. Malcolm squirmed.

  “I don’t think she intends to do that, Tony”

  “Bollocks! Come with me Malcolm.”

  He stood and left the room. Malcolm struggled to his feet and followed him.

  “We don’t want a scene, Tony.”

  “We are not going to have a scene.” Said Tony

  At reception he collected Angela and all three of them climbed the stairs to the Special Unit room. The door was locked and as he fished out his key Tony thanked god he always carried it or the bitch would have been laughing all over her face when she had heard about him stood there unable to get in. He unlocked the door and then put his arm across it so no one could enter.

  “I am sorry you two have been involved in this. Today I met Mrs Baxter for the first time. I said good morning to her and she did not answer, but carried on writing. I spoke to her twice more during the hour we were in this room together and she never ever responded. Finally I told her that I was going to Social Services for half an hour. The important thing is that I gave her my card with the name of the person I was going to meet and the phone number where I could be contacted. When she did not take it I tucked it under the corner of her blotting paper holder.”

  He moved his arm and let them into the room. They all went to stand by Cheryl’s desk. There tucked under one of the corners of the blotter was one of Tony’s cards. Written on it were Reece Jones name and telephone number. Tony turned to Angela.

  “Thanks, Angela. You ha
d better get back to reception.”

  When she had gone he turned to Malcolm.

  “Look, Malcolm. I don’t mind working unsupervised. I don’t mind working on my own and setting up my own placements and making my own contacts. I’m a big boy. But I object most strongly to people lying about me and I object even more strongly when they use a hardworking and innocent girl to give weight to their lies.”

  He thought this last was plastering it on a bit thickly, but you fought fire with fire.

  “This woman does not want me here and is doing her level best to get rid of me.” He smiled. “The problem is I like the job and I am not going.”

  He lifted his hands palms up.

  “This means that you have a problem.” He ignored Malcolm’s startled look. “You know that I am in this office everyday. You know Cheryl is never here. You know Roy is never here.” He waved at the wallboards with all their client cards. “You know I have twenty seven kids placed. You know Roy has only twelve and Cheryl has eight who are all placed in just two toddler day centres, so you know who is doing the work.” He smiled. “The new boy.”

  He paused and watched as Malcolm looked at the card racks and around the office. He picked up the card from Cheryl’s blotter. The card he had slipped there just before he went to see Reece Jones. The card he had slipped into the corner of her blotter while she was staring up at him wondering if this was the time when he would lose his temper and she could go into her frightened little girl act. He dropped it into the top pocket of Malcolm’s corduroy jacket.

  “I think you need to talk to her Malcolm and explain that I am not going anywhere. I think you should tell her that it would be in her interest, and yours, if she could stop her little games and get on with her job. I think you should tell her it is not on to involve your staff, I mean Angela, in her little vendettas. I know I can rely on you Malcolm as it is in your interests as well as mine to let me get on with doing the best job I can. After all, according to Angela, Special Unit placements are at their highest ever at this point in time.

  He took his hand away. Malcolm patted the pocket where the visiting card had been placed. He looked like a man who was being put in a place he did not want to be. Then he nodded a couple of times and left the room. Tony followed him to the top of the stairs.

  “Malcolm. You won’t lose that card will you?”

  There was no reply. Tony walked back into the office and closed the door behind him feeling well pleased. He went to his desk and sat down. There in front of him on the desk were about four sheets of foolscap paper closely written in bright green ink. He shuddered.

  “Bloody woman.” He grabbed his jacket and went off to find a ploughman’s and a pint.

  He sat in the pub and read through the four sheets of foolscap. It was quite amazing. It was the sort of thing that if it had been produced in a psychiatrist’s office would have had the writer invited to stay for a while. It started off with the whole of the first page telling him how to do his job. It was accurate and it followed the party line completely to the letter. The only problem was that it was written for a four year old and it was a bit late now. He had been here for six weeks and had nearly thirty kids on his rack.

  He turned to page two. This gave all the names of all the social workers and probation officers for their area. Tony actually already had these lists as they were typed and given out freely by the organizations concerned. Cheryl must have sat there and copied her own list down. It went on to tell him that he must make an appointment with the head of each office to introduce himself and thereafter make a weekly appointment to visit each office to see if they had any clients. He shook his head in amazement. “Did she really think he had been sat there with his thumb up his rectum awaiting her words of wisdom before he could act? Did she really think he would still be waiting to be told what to do after six weeks? The woman was mad.”

  Page three was all about how to set up a placement. What to do and what not to do. He speed read through it and then turned to page four. This page was quite different. In block capitals two lines high it was headed COMPLAINTS. It went on to list four farmers who had actually rang Miz Baxter at home to tell her how her new colleague had taken their trainees away without any warning whatsoever. There was a paragraph dedicated to each giving the reasons why it was such a valuable placement for the unit and why we should continue to work with these dedicated people. The final paragraph was more or less an instruction to return their missing trainees to these placements before the end of the month.

  Tony sat and thought it over. He had met his boss this morning for the first time in the six weeks he had been employed here. His boss had sat in his office for an hour and at no time had spoken to him, but had written him out four pages of foolscap in bright green ink which she had put on his desk and just left, only stopping on the way out to try and drop him in the shit with the area manager. He could not let this go by and say nothing. He finished his lunch and went back to his office.

  Malcolm took on a hunted look when he appeared in his office doorway. He had not enjoyed the previous encounter and had slid back into his office as soon as Tony had left. Now Tony was back and from the look on his face there was going to be more trouble. He blinked and scratched at his beard, crossing and uncrossing his sandaled feet. Tony handed him the four sheets of foolscap.

  “These were left on my desk. I think you should read them and then I would like you to date and initial them.”

  Malcolm’s mouth fell open.

  “What for?”

  “Because at some point that lunatic is going to tell someone higher up the chain that she gave me full written instruction when I came here. I need your endorsement on each of those sheets so that I can prove that I never met, or had any dialogue with the woman until today.”

  Malcolm shifted nervously in his seat keeping his hands as far away from the papers as he could. Tony sat down in the chair in front of the desk.

  “Look, Malcolm. I have been here six weeks and you have had no complaints about me at all. You are able to leave me to get on with it and hide away, er, I mean sit in your little hideaway here and do all the administration without having to worry about me. True?”

  Malcolm thought carefully about that and then gave the smallest of nods. Tony continued.

  “The woman is a fruit cake. You know it and I know it.”

  Malcolm looked alarmed again but Tony held up his hand to calm him.

  “However, I am going to carry on like I have for the first six weeks when I have had no supervision whatever. I am not going to involve you in this business at all, but I am going to take it up with Sue Mandelow as a Special Unit problem.”

  Malcolm’s face cleared.

  “However,” it clouded again. “If the fruitcake says she gave me all this crap six weeks ago I will have trouble proving she did not. So all I want you to do is sign and date them so my arse is not hanging out in the wind. That is all you have to do.”

  Tony’s face smiled, but his eyes said he was going nowhere until Malcolm complied with his request. Malcolm knew he was between a rock and a hard place. If he signed the papers he was involved, but if he didn’t and Tony decided to kick up a fuss then he was involved anyway. Best to do what Tony asked and hope it would all settle down. He signed and dated the four sheets of paper. Tony’s smile was genuine this time.

  “Thank you, Malcolm.”

  He left the office and went across to Angela’s reception desk.

  “Angela, do you do shorthand as well as typing?”

  “Yeah, Why?”

  “Good. Take this down will you.” He waited while she found a pencil.

  To; Miz C. Baxter.

  CC; Sue Mandelow and Malcolm Gains.

  From: Tony Filton.

  I received your several pages of information that you left on my desk this morning. Of the first three pages I have no comment to make except to tell you that they are merely repeating what I was told during induction. The last page in which
you instruct me to return trainees to several placements is a different matter. I removed the trainees from those placements because their official case officers and I felt the trainees were being exploited and that the placements were not acting in accordance with the aims and ideals of ACYOP. Because of this I am unable to supply further trainees to any of these four placements. If you would like further information on exactly where these placements were failing in their obligations to the trainees I shall be more than happy to furnish it.

  He grinned at Angela who grinned back.

  “I wondered when you were going to fight back.” She said.

  Three hours later he was in Sue Mandelow’s office. She stood up as he knocked and entered.

  “Hello Tony, how is it going?”

  “The job is fine, Sue and I am enjoying it. I do have one little problem though?”

  He handed her the memo and waited. She read it in silence. When she had finished he handed her the four sheets of foolscap. She only had to look at the green ink and it was obvious that she knew the author. She read it through while Tony went and got them what passed for coffee from the machine. When he got back to the office and put down the cups she handed him back the papers. He told her about Cheryl’s efforts to stir the manure that morning and how although it was the first time they had met she had blanked him and just left the stack of paper on his desk while he was out. Sue listened with her face getting longer and longer.

  “How in hell did you get Malcolm to sign and date those?” she asked.

  “I promised him bloody warfare in his regional office if he didn’t and peace if he did.”

  “Peace? After all this.” She indicated the memo and papers.

  He smiled at her.

  “You may have forgotten it, Sue, but at the end of next week I am off on a fortnights holiday to Greece. As Cheryl has taken no notice of me since I got here I assume she has taken no notice of my holiday dates. The last thing I want is for her to find out so she can go around and blow all my placements while I am away. So I am going to tell them all that you are my contact while I am away or if any of the kids fall of the twig. That will give me peace of mind, it will give you a couple of weeks to decide what to do about this bloody woman and keep my kids safe from disruption. When I get back I will phone you at home on the Sunday evening and you can bring me up to date.”

  She wrinkled up her nose while she thought.

  “If I call her up on this now the shit will hit the fan especially as she is now a Union rep would you believe? She may come to me about this memo, but I can brush that aside. It is up to you to decide if a placement is good enough, anyway. Not her.”

  She stood.

  “You enjoy your holiday.”

  Thank you Susan, I will.