"David Moody - Straight to You" - читать интересную книгу автора (Moody David)

bottom of a stinking heap. Even when he was able to assist such people, it was never without heavy cost
to those least able to pay while the rich were never asked to put their hands in their pockets. It was a
difficult fact to accept but it was an unavoidable part of his working life. It was also a huge bone of
contention which lodged itself painfully in Steven's neck. He knew that he had to find a new career before
this one drove him to insanity.
Someone finally picked up the telephone.
'Hello,' a chirpy, high-pitched voice answered. It was Carol, the office secretary.
'Would you ask Ian to come inside please?' Steven said abruptly.
'Will do,' Carol replied before quickly replacing the receiver.
Steven put his phone down and took several deep, calming breaths. In the moments before Ian
entered, he tried desperately to remember the standard lines from countless courses and numerous
memos that his bosses had force-fed him with to deal with a situation such as this. He hoped that he
would be able to keep up the act and deliver their ultimatum with the minimum of effort and resistance.
The silhouette of a man appeared in the frosted glass of the window in the door to Steven's office.
The shadow paused for a moment (Ian was obviously as nervous and unsure about the interview as his
manager was) before knocking on the door and coming inside.




1


There was a loud confident knock at the door and I stood up to let Ian into the office. He walked quietly
past me, keeping his eyes directed firmly away from mine, and stood in front of my desk.
'Sit down, Ian,' I said and he pulled a chair across the room to sit opposite my chair.
I watched him as he sat down and noticed that he looked considerably calmer and more composed
than I felt. He had already been told the purpose of my calling him into the office today and I expected
him to have prepared his responses to the company's threats beforehand. A young man, only a couple of
years my junior; he folded his arms, sat back on the hard, wooden chair and waited for me to sit down
opposite him.
I cleared my throat. It was difficult for me to hide my dislike at the situation and, although I didn't look
directly into his face, I could feel Ian staring across the table at me. I was sure that he saw me almost as
the enemy and definitely as someone who could not be trusted. Although I knew that what I was about to
say were the words of other people, I felt that he would hold every last syllable against me personally.
'How are things?' I asked, struggling to find a way of ending the stagnant silence and getting down to
the matter at hand.
'Fine,' Ian replied abruptly. It was obvious from the tone of his voice and from the brevity of his reply
that he had no intention of making this an easy caution for me to administer.
'Look,' I began, 'I don't like having to do this, and I'm sure that you don't want to be sat here listening
to me. . .'
I stopped mid-sentence. I remembered my teachers trying much the same line on me at school and I
could not believe that I had just used it. I looked up to see Ian still staring at me. He turned away and
began to fidget nervously and chew his fingers. I took another deep breath.
'I'll come straight to the point, Ian. Your work has failed to meet the standards that the company
expects from someone of your grade and experience. Unless you buck up your ideas and start pulling
your weight, you could well find yourself out of a job.'
I felt myself relax and was sure that my relief was obvious to Ian. I had delivered the required
ultimatum and he appeared to have taken it reasonably well. I had been worried that he might not be so
calm and was surprised when the expression on his face slowly changed to one of genuine concern.