The devil is in the detail

18 – 21 February 2015

Wednesday morning was beautifully crisp and clear. Perfect walking weather, except the only walking I’d be doing was to work. It was especially galling because the only walk I’d had on my three day weekend was my Sunday jaunt to Crosshouse. On Monday it poured with rain all day and I had to stay in on Tuesday to wait for workmen to come and fix our leaky water meter, so I had decidedly itchy feet.

A plane was coming in to land as I crossed Cobden Bridge and there was still a hint of frost on the tops of the boats moored at the riverside. The jetties looked slippery although the frost on the streets was long gone. Down on the slipway the low sun cast long swan shadows. It would have been nice to stay a while and watch them but the office was calling and I had a busy day ahead. Mostly this involved team leader meetings and preparation for the interviews on Friday. Then there was a rush on holiday requests. Putting my new spreadsheet to the test. Happily it was up to the job and I was able to approve all requests, including my own birthday day off at the beginning of May. The afternoon was spent training one of the new people on the phones.

The poor girl looked horrified when I took a call from a young woman who alternately sobbed and shouted into our shared headset.
“I can’t believe you don’t even recognise my voice. I call you all the time about this. Every day my bus leaves before my train gets in. It just isn’t good enough. What is wrong with you people? Don’t you understand what I’m saying here?”

After a quick look at the timetable, during which the girl continued to rant and cry I explained that the bus was leaving at the right time, exactly as scheduled. “There are three different train stations on this bus route and it would be impossible for the bus to be at all of them to meet every train as it comes in I’m afraid.”
“But I have to wait half an hour and I won’t be home until seven thirty now. You have to do something about it right now because I’m sick of it,” I swear she was stamping her foot, one step from a temper tantrum.
“Have you thought about asking the train company to change the train times?” I asked rather facetiously.
“Well I couldn’t do that could I?” she said, “they have schedules to keep to and there are other trains coming into the station all the time. They can’t have two coming in at once.”
“Exactly, and we have one bus every half an hour on that route and it can’t possibly be there at exactly the right time for all the different trains.”
“But why can’t you change it so it’s in time for my train?” She whined.

“Was she for real?” the trainee asked incredulously When the girl had finally gone.
“Believe me, you will get far worse than that,” I told her, “you’ll be surprised how quickly you get used to it.”

On a whim I decided to walk over the Big Bridge for a change on Thursday morning. Of course, with the pavement being closed on one side of the bridge, I wasn’t on my normal side of the road. Walking over the railway bridge I couldn’t resist stopping and looking down at the track remembering all the times I stood there in the arms of Pappy watching for trains and playing a guessing game whether the next one would be steam or diesel. As the rails are now electrified, there would be no guessing games or steam trains now if one did come.

There were people down on the platform waiting for the morning train, just as I had every morning in my teens when I worked for the railway. Before long I was on the Big Bridge at Northam where three or four workmen were making a great show of washing down newly laid concrete. Being half term week there were no mothers driving their children to school so the traffic was actually moving through the contraflow system, albeit slowly. Down on the water the same old tatty boats were in the same places and a train passed in the distance beside the boardwalk.

Again and again on my walks I’ve found that you can pass the same place over and over and see a new detail every time. Crossing the boardwalk this was proved to be true once more when I spotted beautiful turkey tail fungi on a rotting log. How many times have I passed it without noticing? There were signs of spring to be found too, some ragwort flowering beside the train tracks.

On Friday morning I was in a bit of a rush because of the interviews. The first interviewee wasn’t due until eleven but I wanted to get in early to get some work done before the pre interview preparation began. This meant there wasn’t much time for photo stops, although I couldn’t resist one snap of the Triangle clock tower against a blue sky streaked with icy looking clouds.

In the end all the rushing about was for nothing. The time for the first interview came and went with no sign of an interviewee. Feeling quite miffed, especially as I’d made an extra effort to look smart and businesslike with proper make up and my Jasper Conran jacket, I got on with some real work and waited for the twelve o’clock victim to arrive. Yet again we had a no show.

The third interview was at two o’clock but, by then, we’d given up hope of anyone turning up. Just before two we got a call from reception. Our two o’clock appointment had arrived. J R and I gathered up our paperwork and the short test that would start the interview and went out to greet our visitor. To say we weren’t impressed would be an understatement. The woman in reception was wearing jeans and a hoodie. As the introductions were made we discovered our candidate didn’t exactly have the best grasp of the English language either.

We’d known from her CV that she was Polish but, as ten percent of the population of Southampton originate in Poland and the majority speak perfect English, we hadn’t thought it would be too much of a problem. She’d worked in customer services in Poland, her CV was well written, she lived locally.  Still, first impressions aren’t always correct so we gave her the test paper, explained what she had to do and left her for the requisite fifteen minutes. It wasn’t a difficult test, just five short questions about customer services and a map with numbered stars and a list of some of the key places we deal with to check the candidate had a basic grasp of the geography of our area. It was the same test we all took at our own interviews except I’d upgraded it to a clearer map to make it easier.

The actual interview was a waste of time. She didn’t understand the questions we asked and answered each with the same stock phrases in broken English. It didn’t take long. When we looked at the test paper we had the same stock phrases in badly spelt Poli-nglish. The map questions were one hundred percent wrong, she hadn’t even managed to put Southampton in the right place. Needless to say we will not be offering her a job.

Two more no shows followed. J R and I felt quite despondent about the whole thing until the last interviewee turned up just before five. He was wearing a suit and tie which was a good start. When it came to the interview it soon became clear he’d researced the company. He gave sensible answers to our questions and demonstrated a good understanding of the principals of customer services. He’d worked on phones and dealt with emails and letters along with social media. At least the whole day and all our careful preparations had been worth the effort. Out of ninety applicants we have managed to find one. Now we have to wait to see if he accepts the job.

Saturday was always going to be a mopping up exercise, making up for Friday’s lost time and doing the end of financial period tidy up of voucher records and stats. When I stepped out into the dark street my mind was full of to do lists. Even so, I couldn’t help noticing it seemed far lighter than last week. The boats moored by Cobden Bridge were clearer and the lights twinkling along the bay didn’t stand out against the darkness so starkly because there was less darkness to stand out in.

On the slipway even the yellow of the catamaran seemed muted and washed out. Lighter mornings change the little details and show that spring is not too far off now. This time next month the clocks will be going forward and there will be walks through sunset instead of sunrise. The little details then will be spring flowers and bright new leaves in bud. I, for one, can’t wait.