The Saint Valentine's Day Murders by Ruth Dudley Edwards Read Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Ruth Dudley Edwards
in tatters and I could hardly make sense of his maunderings about creative confrontation, kicking ideas around to see where they led or alternatively throwing them into the air to see where they landed etc, etc. I gather some idiot sent him on a management psychology course three years ago and ever since he’s been chewing over what he learned on it.
5:00-5:30 Unpacking and abluting. Layout of centre is roughly upon motel principle. (Mark this well. Its significance will become apparent.) Thus everything is at ground level: bedrooms come in square blocks of sixteen, built round a central courtyard, with a bathroom and exit in the middle of each side.
All fifteen of us then, snugly accommodated together in Block H. Horace chuffed: it makes for feeling of solidarity.
5:30-6:00 Tea in recreation block followed speech of welcome from small, fidgety centre manager. Listen to Graham and Tony arguing about the merits of their respective routes to Twillerton. Melissa the belle of the ball in ill-fitting denim boiler suit. Try as she does, she cannot avoid looking pretty. All over-forties wear nondescript sports jackets. Charlie hadn’t been briefed on Melissa so shot over to her at first opportunity to try chatting-up. Returned crestfallen with flea in ear after three minutes.
6:00-7:00 Open session. Horace and self on dais as my plea to be allowed to sit with minions has been rejected as damaging to my authority. Horace read half-hour speech about essence of seminar being to decide what job we are doing and how we can do it more effectively. All stones are to be turned over and all worries fearlessly exposed. Peroration same as I got on my first day – about centralized purchasing being the rock on which success is built. Sat down and called for questions or comments. Silence. Self had anticipated this and had intelligent query re Buying British policy. Answered by Horace. No follow-up from rank-and-file. Glared at Charlie who responded nobly by making suggestion about how our approvals procedure might be streamlined. Horace tossed idea at audience where it fell like stone until picked up one of his team who proved it unworkable.
Henry saved the day with a long tirade about the newfangled procedures contained in BC/P/4396 being contrary to the common sense displayed by the framer of BC/P/632. Even Graham slightly animated by that one.
Session ended. All balls-aching, of course, but Horace optimistic. Thinks that after an evening of communal fun the troops will have loosened up and tomorrow morning will see the fur really flying.
7:00-7:30 Pre-dinner drinks. Offered to buy one for Melissa and had head snapped off for being patronizing. Told her she looked even more beautiful when angry. Curried favour with Henry by asking for explanation about ambiguous point in BC/P/4396. He seems to know the whole canon off by heart.
7:30-8:00 Dinner. Large dining room with six long tables. PD clustered around one. Other tables occupied by massed rows of beery technicians on three-week refresher course. No contact between us and them. PD group identity shows signs of burgeoning.
8:00-11:00 Booze and recreation. Premises to ourselves. Technicians have gone off to nearby town. Parts of evening almost jolly. Tony beat the pants off me at table-tennis and admitted coyly to having been platoon champion. Graham played darts with considerable accuracy until he went flat and disappeared to bed. Session in bar with Henry and PD1 chap telling us stories of National Service. Some disgusting but not all unfunny. Tiny tried to organize poker game but got nowhere so we broke up at closing-time. Horace wasn’t seen all evening. Presumably in his bedroom farting about with the agenda.
11:00-6:00 In own room asleep apart from one visit to bog. No, I’m not trying to do a Ulysses . Apparently insignificant details may prove important.
Saturday
6:00 Woken by fire alarm. Rushed into grounds where large crowd assembled looking for fire. No fire visible.
5:00-5:30 Unpacking and abluting. Layout of centre is roughly upon motel principle. (Mark this well. Its significance will become apparent.) Thus everything is at ground level: bedrooms come in square blocks of sixteen, built round a central courtyard, with a bathroom and exit in the middle of each side.
All fifteen of us then, snugly accommodated together in Block H. Horace chuffed: it makes for feeling of solidarity.
5:30-6:00 Tea in recreation block followed speech of welcome from small, fidgety centre manager. Listen to Graham and Tony arguing about the merits of their respective routes to Twillerton. Melissa the belle of the ball in ill-fitting denim boiler suit. Try as she does, she cannot avoid looking pretty. All over-forties wear nondescript sports jackets. Charlie hadn’t been briefed on Melissa so shot over to her at first opportunity to try chatting-up. Returned crestfallen with flea in ear after three minutes.
6:00-7:00 Open session. Horace and self on dais as my plea to be allowed to sit with minions has been rejected as damaging to my authority. Horace read half-hour speech about essence of seminar being to decide what job we are doing and how we can do it more effectively. All stones are to be turned over and all worries fearlessly exposed. Peroration same as I got on my first day – about centralized purchasing being the rock on which success is built. Sat down and called for questions or comments. Silence. Self had anticipated this and had intelligent query re Buying British policy. Answered by Horace. No follow-up from rank-and-file. Glared at Charlie who responded nobly by making suggestion about how our approvals procedure might be streamlined. Horace tossed idea at audience where it fell like stone until picked up one of his team who proved it unworkable.
Henry saved the day with a long tirade about the newfangled procedures contained in BC/P/4396 being contrary to the common sense displayed by the framer of BC/P/632. Even Graham slightly animated by that one.
Session ended. All balls-aching, of course, but Horace optimistic. Thinks that after an evening of communal fun the troops will have loosened up and tomorrow morning will see the fur really flying.
7:00-7:30 Pre-dinner drinks. Offered to buy one for Melissa and had head snapped off for being patronizing. Told her she looked even more beautiful when angry. Curried favour with Henry by asking for explanation about ambiguous point in BC/P/4396. He seems to know the whole canon off by heart.
7:30-8:00 Dinner. Large dining room with six long tables. PD clustered around one. Other tables occupied by massed rows of beery technicians on three-week refresher course. No contact between us and them. PD group identity shows signs of burgeoning.
8:00-11:00 Booze and recreation. Premises to ourselves. Technicians have gone off to nearby town. Parts of evening almost jolly. Tony beat the pants off me at table-tennis and admitted coyly to having been platoon champion. Graham played darts with considerable accuracy until he went flat and disappeared to bed. Session in bar with Henry and PD1 chap telling us stories of National Service. Some disgusting but not all unfunny. Tiny tried to organize poker game but got nowhere so we broke up at closing-time. Horace wasn’t seen all evening. Presumably in his bedroom farting about with the agenda.
11:00-6:00 In own room asleep apart from one visit to bog. No, I’m not trying to do a Ulysses . Apparently insignificant details may prove important.
Saturday
6:00 Woken by fire alarm. Rushed into grounds where large crowd assembled looking for fire. No fire visible.
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