nine
Graham wasn’t there. His PA, Judith, told us to sit down and brought us some coffee. At twenty-past four, Graham arrived and started talking while he took off his jacket, caught his breath, smiled and sat down.
“I’m sorry I’m late. You must be Christine. I’m Graham. Great to meet you. Ian, how’s it going? What have you got for me?”
I handed him a copy of my one-page summary. He sat back in his chair and put one foot up against the edge of his desk, leaned an arm on his knee and read it.
“This is good, Ian. Let’s talk about it. Firstly, I think you need to go for the jugular a bit more.”
“For instance?”
“OK. I think your tactics are fine as far as they go, but I reckon they are pussy-footing around the heart of the problem. Christine, unless you only came here to listen, what do you think?”
Christine looked over at me and I gestured for her to speak out.
“What I see when I work...