It began to occur to me that I might be leaving
Natural Breaks, which was a shame in a way as it was a really good company to
work for. Once you had proved yourself,
you could work as many hours a week as you wanted. To get paid for accompanying someone to the cinema
still tickled me. Of course there were
the dark hours, the violence and stress, but no one got that badly hurt and we
can look back on those times now and have a laugh about them. I can assure you that you would not be
laughing or smiling when you walked in to a room where you knew that for the
next twelve hours you would be locked with an unpredictable character who would
be in such despair, that he could only express himself through violence.
I only worked with a couple of other people,
one, a black fellow who was a really nice chap, but had to shake hands with you
every five seconds. He was following a
catering course at a small college in the centre of Liverpool and the teacher
made me put on whites so that I would fit in.
I could see that the fellow was getting some racial abuse and that his
attempts to shake hands with everyone didn’t go down too well. When I raised the point that he might fare
better in a different institution I was told that he not only had the right to
go there but he wanted to go there. I’m
sure if he had been shown a nicer place, friendlier, less abusive, he may well
have changed his mind. But who was I and
what did I know. This equality of rights
bullshit was a double edged thingy, far too many people were using it as an
excuse for shoddy workmanship. I was
getting really frustrated at not being able to do anything positive so finally and
thankfully the letter came through and I learned that I had been accepted as a team
leader with NWCS.
Some of the guys at Natural Breaks were
furious, one team leader at Natural Breaks complained that he had been support
staff for two years before he could even consider applying for team leader while
I had the audacity to apply for the position after six months. He was a bit of an idiot, Jan, the boss of
Natural Breaks, would take each team out for a day socialising, now and
again. Everything was paid for and it
was basically a pub crawl. We were in
Blackpool and drinking quite heavily when this fellow decides to tell everyone
his thoughts on homosexuality and how it was against the word of the Lord. No one joined in or even began to discuss the
subject with him as Jan’s son was gay and none of us wanted to get involved.
He did try to apologise when he learned about
Jan’s son but of course the damage had been done. We even learned that he would take the
violent fellow along to his church meetings hoping for a miracle from the
Lord. I suppose having a few idiots
around makes the world a more interesting place. But they were a good social crowd at Natural Breaks;
luckily there was a novelty type of pub close by. I think it was called the Liverpool Steam
Beer Company. They had four large copper
vats in the window and their claim to fame was that the beer they sold was brewed
on the premises. It was a real ale sort
of pub, bare wooden floors, and available beers written on a blackboard, I’m
sure there would have been a bucket of sawdust behind the bar too. A group of us gathered there for my farewell
session.
Jan was away for a few days so didn’t attend
but her deputy was there. Stan and
myself knew each other quite well, so I settled down beside him and explained that
there was an old system we used in the armed forces that I would like to employ
now. If you were posted to another unit,
you had to go around each section on camp and sign out of that section. You had a card which each section had to sign
proving that you had been there and were clear.
Many of us would pass the card around the crew room and have our friends
sign it but the theory was good. The final stop would have been Station
Headquarters where you would have been signed off the camp strength, however
your second to last stop was your boss.
You were always, well depending on how you got
on with your boss, nearly always, invited to sit yourself down, have a brew and
tell him what you really thought of him and his squadron. This was no slanging match, or avenue for you
to let off a bit of steam for a long held grudge. You were allowed to speak your mind as long
as it was constructive. I explained to Stan
that this is what I would now like to do with him. There were incidents that I had witnessed in Natural Breaks and I felt that I had to pass this information on, so that
something could eventually be done about it.
I think that Stan thought I was joking but as I began to speak he
straightened himself up and began to listen.
I told him all about the theft through the accounts, how two people
would be down to work one shift but only one person would actually attend. I gave him the whole low down on what I had
experienced and hoped that he would do something about it. Happy that I may have done something positive
for the people supported by Natural Breaks I moved over to NWCS.
I arrived at their head office and was brought
in to an office by a fellow called Joe.
Joe introduced himself as my service manager; he was a small man, but
had that Liverpool wit about him.
Garry, the other service manager who had interviewed me along with
Richard came in to join us. They explained
to me that they had a problem. They
wanted me to take over a house where two gentlemen lived. They were supported by a team of six, but two
of the six were brothers. They were also
ex-army and it was thought fiddling the accounts at a serious level. As I was ex forces I would be able to handle
them. I was to go to the house, inspect
the accounts and if I found irregularities, fire the pair of them on the
spot. Oh and by the way, we have told
them you are coming and why you are coming.
Not exactly the sort of situation you would
want to start your new job, but it was all a part of the good fight so I rolled
my sleeves up and set off for my new house.
I arrived to find the house empty.
It was a huge place, six bedrooms with a separate self-catering flat
attached. The staff team had left me a
note to the effect that most of them had gone to Spain for a week with one of
the fellows supported. The second fellow
hadn’t arrived yet. I hadn’t been there
that long when the telephone rang and Joe, the service manager, told me that
the two brothers, I had been sent to deal with, had resigned and left the company. That was good news for me. What was also good was that the house was nice
and quiet and I could set out all the accounts before me on the dining table and
work my way through them.
It was quite obvious that someone had been
fiddling the books but with the two main suspects having gone and not feeling that
there was enough evidence to actually point the finger at anyone, I drew a line
under the affair and began to inspect the house. It was in good condition but needed a lick of
paint so I bought some paint, some extendible rollers and set about the place. There’s something about manual repetitive work
that I find very soothing and so was quite content to keep painting. When the telephone rang at five to five in
the evening I was surprised to hear Joe who was checking up on me, making sure
that I hadn’t left early, as I was employed to stay there until five o clock. My only thought was that this was a little
bit petty, surely in a company that supported people to live in the community
you would have more pressing problems? Richard
had brought his three service managers with him when he took over the company,
Joe, Garry and Nick. They told everyone that
they should be called the apostles, which I think, was a loose sort of link to
Richards strong Christianity. It wouldn’t
be long before I would be submitting dipshits instead of apostles.
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