‘I enjoyed your speech, Jemma, though it doesn’t apply to me,’ he said. ‘I am an old man, and I have no plans to take over the world.’ He chortled at his own joke. ‘Where was I? Oh yes. Based as I am in a suburban backwater, I doubt any young thrusting individuals will challenge me any time soon. Yet I am not getting any younger, even if I am getting no older.’ He bestowed a beatific smile on his listeners.
‘One day in the not too distant future, I may wish to relinquish my position and retire. I am not particularly keen on the idea of watching a gaggle of aspiring Assistant Keepers fighting over my role as if they were dogs scrapping for a bone; I would like my replacement to be appointed with dignity. And that is how I wish to leave my position, rather than fearing I shall be thrust out of my library and made to leave the place I have called home for so long. I have seen the changes Jemma is making at her bookshop, and I for one am in favour of them. We need to move with the times.’
‘Thank you, Percy; those were relevant and heartfelt words,’ said Raphael. He nudged Jemma, and pointed to the chat window at the side of the display. It was scrolling quickly. Jemma saw comments like Good point, and Yes, what am I supposed to do with the children? and This sounds too good to be true. She sighed. Of course, you had to accept some scepticism.
‘Ah, Drusilla, I thought you might have something to say.’ Raphael reached towards the trackpad and the blonde woman’s face filled the screen. She was almost all glare.
‘Thank you so much for your speech, my dear,’ she said. ‘Would you mind telling me how many years you worked as an analyst?’
OK, thought Jemma. I can handle this. ‘After graduating I joined a management training scheme, where I both worked and learnt management and analytical skills,’ she said. ‘I was in the scheme for two years, then transitioned into a full-time analytical role which I held for two more years.’
‘So, four years then,’ said Drusilla. ‘If we’re feeling generous.’ She paused just long enough for Jemma to feel that she ought to respond, then continued. ‘You do realise, dear, that most of us have been part of the Keepers’ Guild for well over a hundred years. What you’re proposing is nothing more than a passing fad.’
‘What about equal rights?’ said Jemma. ‘What about human rights, in fact?’
Drusilla said nothing, merely looking amused. ‘Really, this is like any occupation,’ she said. ‘There is work to be done, and occasionally, sacrifices to be made. The organisation is paramount. I’m sure that your keen business intelligence would be in agreement with that.’
‘Actually, no,’ said Jemma. ‘Research shows that employees who have a good work-life balance perform better.’
‘Oh, research,’ scoffed Priscilla. ‘You can make numbers do whatever you want. Of course, as an analyst, you know that. You’ve probably faked statistics in your time.’
‘I most certainly have not,’ said Jemma. ‘And if you have to rely on criticising my youth and resorting to personal attacks, then I don’t think your argument is worth much.’
Drusilla recoiled slightly, then recovered her composure and lifted her chin. ‘If you can’t keep your temper under pressure, dear, then this isn’t the career for you.’
Raphael, looking pained, leaned towards the screen. ‘Does anyone else have any useful or relevant comments to make?’
Jemma regarded the sea of faces. Comments were still scrolling down the right-hand side of the screen.
I’m not sure I want new people coming in and telling us what to do.
Maybe we should do a six-month trial and monitor it.
Does anyone know when this finishes?
She swallowed, and wished again for a glass of water. Well, I said my piece, although I have no idea if it was any use. Then she remembered what she had wanted to tell Raphael. She flipped over an index card and grabbed the pen she had used to make notes. She scribbled: Drusilla, De Vere and Percy have all visited my shop. She nudged Raphael and pushed the card towards him. He read it and pursed his lips, considering for a moment.
‘I see plenty of comments, but no one appears to have any burning questions. I have delayed advertising the post in the hope of reaching a consensus, but it is not fair to delay further. My door is still open for discussion, and I ask that anyone wishing to speak to me does so by the end of next week. Pending any necessary changes, I aim to recruit a new Assistant Keeper for Westminster by Christmas.’ He paused, but no one spoke. ‘Speaking of Christmas, we have to finalise this year’s festivities. I believe you are leading on this, Nina?’
A small blonde woman with winged glasses and an Alice band took over the screen. ‘As ever, we have three choices for this year’s theme, and I would like to present them to you.’
Jemma nudged Raphael and pointed to the mute button. He pressed it. ‘Can I go and get a drink?’ she asked. ‘I’m gasping.’
‘Of course,’ said Raphael.
‘A desert island theme would be new, but it doesn’t feel very Christmassy…’
‘What do you think about’ – Jemma mouthed the next words, even though they were muted – ‘those three?’ She tapped the index card.
‘Interesting,’ said Raphael. ‘And not unexpected. I know Drusilla and De Vere are friends with Brian. Same university. And no, don’t ask me which.’
‘Or an Australian beach theme…’
‘Percy’s a bit of an oddity,’ said Raphael. ‘A nice oddity, though. And he’s impressed with you.’
‘And there’s always traditional Dickensian, but we’ve done that so often.’
‘I have to talk to you when this meeting finishes,’ said Jemma. ‘How much more of it is there?’
‘Maybe ten, fifteen minutes?’
‘So if you type A, B, or C in the chat window, I shall collect your votes and we’ll go with the majority.’
Raphael unmuted himself. ‘Most concisely done, Nina. Shall we say five minutes to make your decision, then we’ll reconvene.’ He clicked the mute button. ‘Jemma, why don’t you see if Carl can rustle up some drinks? I feel the need for a strong coffee.’
A few minutes later they were both supplied with caffeine, and Nina, her mouth turned down, announced the festive result. ‘I can’t say I’m surprised,’ she began. ‘Perhaps Desert Island and Australian Beach Christmas were a little too similar; they have scored 31% and 33% of the votes respectively. Three people abstained. Therefore the winning option, yet again, is a Dickensian Christmas celebration with 35% of the vote.’
‘Thank you, Nina,’ said Raphael. ‘That concludes our short agenda, but does anyone have any other business? Any relevant business, I should add.’ He surveyed the sea of faces. ‘I see no raised hands. In that case, if you wish to speak to me privately, my door is always open. I shall communicate with you again before I advertise the post, and inform you of any changes. Until then, I hope you have a safe and knowledgeable week.’ He beamed at them, and ended the meeting.
He turned to Jemma. ‘How do you think that went?’
‘It was OK,’ said Jemma. ‘To be honest, I thought they’d be much meaner to me.’