‘And finally, I have been asked by Mrs Partridge to raise this issue. As some of you may struggle to remember, next month is your annual appraisal and I’m advised by Mrs Partridge that some of the forms you were asked to complete as a preliminary need … more work.
‘Your personal details update form … Mr Sussman; you are not a Jedi Knight. Kindly amend the details in Box 3 – Religion. Ditto Mr Markham, Mr Peterson, Miss Maxwell, Mr Dieter, and Miss Black.
‘Miss Maxwell, Box 5. You are not five feet seven inches tall and never will be. Live with it and correct your paperwork.
‘Mr Markham, the box marked “Sex” is not an invitation. Please amend the details and apologise to Mrs Partridge.
‘Mr Dieter, the claims made in the box marked “Other Interests” are physically impossible and, in most of the civilised world, illegal. You also render yourself liable to prosecution for misuse of government property. Amend.
‘Miss Black, there are two P s in oppressed and only one N in minority. You are neither. Delete.
‘I would also take this opportunity to remind you that Doctor Foster will be circulating similar medical paperwork for your completion and does not share my enlightened attitude towards employee relations. As I’m sure at least some of you are aware, she enjoys a robust, thorough and above all, penetrative approach to your annual medical examinations. Mess her about at your peril.
‘Miss Maxwell, please report to my office in thirty minutes and persuade Mr Sussman to take time out from his religious conversion to accompany you. That is all. Dismissed.’
Grumbling and shuffling our paperwork, we watched him limp away to his lair. I looked round for Sussman but he’d disappeared already. Kalinda joined me and gave me a look.
‘What?’
‘He’ll get you killed one day.’
‘No,’ I said. ‘He’s just a bit … erratic.’
‘No, you’re erratic; he’s a bloody disaster. If you don’t watch it, Max, you’ll lose your chance at the next Big Job because of him. The Boss does not like him and I don’t either. Nobody does but you.’
‘He’s my partner,’ I said defensively, getting tired of this. ‘He’s not that bad.’
‘Exactly, Max. He’s your partner and the best you can say of him is that he’s not that bad. Doesn’t that tell you anything?’
‘He’s OK with me. It’s you he doesn’t like and he winds you up deliberately. It’s not a problem, believe me.’
Exactly thirty minutes later we stood outside the door. Time is important in our organisation. If you can’t even get to an appointment in your own building on time, they argue, you’re not going to have much luck trying to find the Battle of Hastings.
Sussman pushed me in first. Mrs Partridge gave us an unloving glare. You could see the words ‘feckless’ and ‘irresponsible’ hacking their way through her thought processes. I looked in vain for some human emotion. She made the Boss look like a humanitarian aid worker. She was, as always, impeccably dressed in a black suit and white shirt, with her dark hair in a French pleat. As always, she reminded me of someone. She handed us each a mission folder and nodded us in. I began to feel excited. This could be a Big Job.
The Boss was waiting for us at his briefing table. Files, cubes, and data sticks littered the surface. He motioned us to sit. Without speaking, he began to bring up data. He was such a showman. Data began to twist and spiral, culminating in Thirsk’s logo and two short paragraphs.
I sat stunned. Beside me, Sussman’s mouth hung open. For the first time ever, the pair of us were speechless. We stared at the screen. I looked away, blinked and looked back again.
There were only the two paragraphs but I couldn’t take them in at all. So I read them again. And again. I took my scratch pad out of my knee pocket, laid it on the table in front of me, clasped my hands, and looked expectantly at the Boss.
‘Well?’ he said. ‘Are you interested?’ I could almost hear my own excitement. I looked at Sussman’s flushed face. He grinned at me.
‘Sir,’ I said. ‘We will climb over the cold, dead bodies of our colleagues for this one.’
He smiled grimly. ‘Shouldn’t you inquire if it’s safe? Or even possible?’
‘If you think it’s do-able, sir, then that’s good enough for me.’
He sat forward and handed us the files and data.
‘You should find everything you need here. Certainly enough to get you started. I want to see a mission plan here in my office at 0930 on Friday. You may allocate mission responsibilities as you think fit. I estimate a preparation period of about three months, three months on-site and around two weeks to work up your data and present your findings. Miss Maxwell will head the mission. Are there any questions at this moment?’