The Diary of a Nobody
Being the modern day record of Charles
Pooter VI -
direct descendant of the 19th Century original
Monday, May 10, 2010
Something really appalling has happened. Barry’s sacked Lupin. I can hardly bring myself to write about it. I was out of the office at the end of last week, away sick for the first time in twenty one years. I think I was poisoned by some fish. Barry was also away, as fate would have it. Our most important client, Mr Crowbillon, turned up at the office in a foul temper and said he was shifting his account. Lupin not only had the gall to meet with him, but advised him to switch to Gylterson Sons plc. In my opinion (though I don’t like to say it against my own son) it was a complete betrayal.This morning I got an e-mail from Barry before I left for work, telling me that they’d told Lupin to clear his desk, and calling me in to a meeting at eleven. I went down to the office feeling sick to the stomach, dreading the meeting with Barry. I’d not spoken to him about things. I didn’t see Lupin all morning. He wasn’t up when I left, and Carrie said it wouldn’t help to disturb him. I was really distracted and couldn’t focus on my work.
As I’d expected, Barry summoned me, and the meeting (as far as I can remember) went more or less like this...
Barry said, “Morning Charles. This is one hell of a bad business. I don’t mean about Lupin – it was pretty clear we were going to have to part company sooner or later. Look. I am the head of this division, and we’ve built a solid reputation, and a market-leading position in the industry. If the business needs to be revolutionised, I will make the decision, when I decide the time is right”.
I could see he was very agitated, and I said, “Barry, I hope you’re not suggesting that I supported Lupin’s outrageous interference in any way?" Barry got up from his chair, put his arm round my shoulder and said “Charles, I’d as soon suspect myself of supporting him”. I was so on edge, so anxious to show how grateful I was, that I almost said, “Barry, I love you”. Luckily I got control of myself, and simply said, “You’re a marvellous man, sir”. I was all over the place, and sat down suddenly, leaving him pacing round the room. I got up, but Barry asked me to sit down, and carried on. “Listen Charles, you’ll realise that we’re a major player in this business, and we can’t be seen to be overly influenced by the actions of a single client. If Crowbillon wants to get another company to handle his affairs (a company with very little in the way of track record as far as I can see), that’s up to him. I’m not going to make any concessions to get his account back”. “Absolutely not,” I said. “Precisely,” replied Barry, “I will not do it. But Charles, what I was thinking was this. Crowbillon is our most lucrative client, and completely confidentially, losing him means we’re taking a big hit. It’s not the kind of thing we can sustain, particularly with the market being the way it is. I reckon you can help us out”.
I replied, “Barry, I’ll do absolutely anything it takes. You can depend on me”.
Barry said, “I know I can. So listen, this is the plan. You, personally, need to e-mail Crowbillon. Don’t let on that I know anything about it. Tell him that your son was only taken on as a junior admin assistant because you’d got such a good record with the company. As you and I know, this is absolutely true. I’m not proposing that you should condemn Lupin’s conduct in too scathing a way, but then again, if he was my son, I’d have ripped him apart. It’s up to you. My guess is Crowbillon will respond by reviewing his position, he’ll come back to us, and the company won’t suffer any financial fallout or bad press”.
I couldn’t help thinking what a great guy Barry was. The way he looks, and the way he talks, are very impressive.
I said, “Would you like to see the e-mail before I send it?”
Barry said, “No way. I don’t know anything about it, and I trust you completely. Take a lot of care over it. Things are a bit slack right now, so focus on it, solely, for half a day, or the whole day if you need it. I’ll be around tomorrow, and the rest of the week, in case Crowbillon gets in touch”.
I went home feeling slightly cheerier, but I told Carrie that I didn’t want to see Cummings, Gowing, or anybody else in the evening.
Lupin came into the living room wearing a new jacket. He asked what I thought of it. I said that making fashion judgements wasn’t my immediate priority, and anyway, I didn’t think he had the money to buy stuff right now. Lupin said, “I didn’t buy it. It was a present”.
I’m so suspicious of Lupin these days that I don’t like to ask him anything, in case I don’t like the answers. But he saved me the bother.
He said, “I ran into a mate, an old mate. I didn’t reckon he was much of a friend at the time, but actually, he’s cool. He said “all’s fair in love and war”, and couldn’t see why we shouldn’t hang out. Actually, he’s sound. All together different to that idiot Barry”.
I said, “Cut that out, Lupin. Don’t make things any worse than they already are”.
Lupin said, “What you on about? Listen, I’ve not made anything any worse. Crowbillon’s simply sick to the back teeth of using such a prehistoric operation, and decided to make the change himself. All I did was suggest someone else. It’s just business”.
I said, quietly, “I don’t understand what you mean by saying “it’s just business”, and at my time of life, I think it’s too late to find out. Let’s change the subject. Where were we? This friend of yours and the jacket? What’s that about?”
Lupin said, “It’s nothing important. I’d not seen the guy since the wedding, and he said it was good to run into me, and hoped that things were OK between us. I got him a drink to show there were no hard feelings, and he gave me one of his jackets”.
I said, wearily, “But you’ve not told me the name of this chap”.
Lupin said, trying to sound blasé, “Didn’t I? Silly me. It was Murray... Murray Posh”.
©MMIX KONSIGNIA. All rights reserved.
Why shouldn’t
I publish
my diary?
I often see memoirs by people I’ve never even heard of and I don’t see why my diary should be any less interesting, just because I’m not a ‘celebrity’. I only wish I’d started it when I was younger.
Charles Pooter
The Laurels, 32 Elmside,
Barleycorn Mead, Harrow on the Hill.
charles@charlespooter.com
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