Wuthering Dormice (aka Bike) Part 919 by Angharad Copyright © 2010 Angharad All Rights Reserved.

“This is like, like child slavery,” Julie complained as she ironed another pillow case and added it to the pile of clothes on the table beside her.

“Absolutely,” I agreed, smirking. Living with me had given her her first taste of hard work, and she wasn’t very struck on the idea–even less on the reality. However, I felt I had an obligation to prepare her for a future career in a jobs market. Too often youngsters seem to have no sticking power–they go out on the booze and the next day can’t come to work because they’re sick. Tough–when my students did that, they got extra work to do. I don’t get pissed and unable to work, and I let them do it once, caution them and then punish them. They can go on the piss if they like–but if their work suffers, or their attendance–I’m on their backs and stay there until they learn. We only give degrees to those who deserve them.

I sound like an elderly task master, but self-discipline is something you have to learn. It isn’t easy–as Julie was finding out. She is paid for what she does about the house–and reasonably generously: she also gets her keep and loads of other perks as one of my charges–so she does very well. In return, I expect–no demand–her share of effort.

The bank had asked me for a paper on how they can maintain their green image with economical and feasible ecological measures. I had a month to write it–to do so, meant I would need to visit a couple of branches, see the processes in place, and then look at overall systems. It was a bit of a pain, because I’d really have to go at it. I explained this to Julie–because it meant she’d have to do the brunt of the housework–the other kids would help, as might Leon, but it was her big chance to show I could trust her not to slack when I wasn’t there. In fact, it was probably about greater issues of trust, but I didn’t want to draw too much attention to it.

While we dined that evening, I spoke to everyone, explaining that I was going to be busy and everyone would have to muck in. After the anticipated moans and groans, they all agreed they would help. Stella was appointed as overseer, and then Julie as the main worker–reminding her that she would still be doing the salon from the next Saturday–then the others could help as and when. I was pleasantly surprised by their desire to help each other–I was building a team, and hopefully, a family as well.

I’d shown Julie how to press the clothes she was going to wear out with her girlfriends the next day and was delighted how quickly she picked it up. I still couldn’t believe she was going to town in four inch heels–oh well, it’s her funeral.

The next day, I left them to get on with it–going to Southampton to liaise with the regional manager of High St Bank plc. He obviously knew who I was, and being in the family–sounds like the mafia–actually worse, they’re legal criminals–I was given carte blanche to look at any of the processes they were using where I could offer green measures. A deputy manager got lumbered with showing me over the place.

I then stumped him completely by asking what the heating bill was like–he went off to get it. It was large. The atrium area where the public enter was very warm–I’d taken my coat off and was warm, possibly slightly too warm. If they dropped the thermostat a degree or two–I’d achieve my outcome. I popped out to a hardware shop down the road and purchased a thermometer–it was nearly 25 ° Celsius.

I would now visit half a dozen other branches over the next week or so and do some more evaluations of heat saving. Putting in glass doors inside the outer ones would also save heat loss, as would insulation and other heat saving methods.

I hate doing this sort of thing, driving round from town to town–or in the case of larger towns and cities, visiting other branches within the town. They had five branches in Southampton, each one of them was a similar temperature. It was beginning to look good.

I sent off an email to their works department and asked for details of roof and cavity wall insulation, I knew that only very newly built ones would have the latter. Then the biggest question: how many of them had south facing roofs?

The initial response was–‘dunno’. When I wrote back asking them to let me know within a week, I got a very snotty response.

‘Miss Watts, this request seems very frivolous, given the financial situation and the cost of using surveyors or our own departmental staff. While we understand you have to validate your position as ecological advisor, we suggest you discuss this with someone closer to director level. We will await the outcome of your discussions with interest.’

I read this and stifled the anger I felt–one phone call and this guy’s arse is on the company barbecue tomorrow. I thought I would try again.

I don’t understand why this needs surveyors–surely your records should show insulation levels, if not why not? As for orientation of the buildings, a clerk from your office asking the branch staff if their building lies north south or east west, or even more simply, does it have a pitched roof which the sun shines on?
I do have access to a director. I’m sorry I should have written to you with my married name, because I tend to use my maiden name for my professional duties.

Catherine Cameron (née Watts).

At first I was going to sign it Lady Catherine Cameron, then changed my mind–let’s see if this guy is awake and if his attitude changes, his job could depend upon it unless he wants to end up cleaning his local branch. I pressed send, as it was only midafternoon, he had time to respond before the end of day.

I was driving back home when my Blackberry peeped and I pulled over to check it.

If you’d like to come and examine the building records, we can make those, such as we have, available, we haven’t time to do such things, and I attach a list of phone numbers of the branches countrywide and email addresses. I’m sure you’ll enjoy calling them. I’m still awaiting your advice from director level–maybe you’ll speak to your contact before you bother us again, we do have work to do.

I saved the message and drove home after collecting the girls from school. Once I’d sorted them out, I called Simon–he was in a meeting. I emailed him the notes I’d sent and the replies I got back, with copies to Henry.

About half past four the phone rang, it was Henry. “I saw the emails–what’s going on?”

“I have to write this paper for you and the board.”

“Oh yeah, and what’s that got to do with insulation?”

“I suspect by turning down the heating in your public areas by just a couple or three degrees, you can save thousands. By implementing a study of insulation levels we can demonstrate we are doing something to improve our carbon footprint, and south facing buildings could be looked at for a feasibility study for solar panels, especially those in the south of the country–they could either produce hot water or even electricity if you have the photo-electric ones.”

“The savings on heating sound really good–we can use that for good publicity as well as at the next AGM to get the shareholders on board. Not so sure about the solar panels–but feasibility study by a reputable company could be another publicity coup. You’re earning that money we pay you, girl–well done, when will you have the paper done?”

“I have a few more branches to visit before I can complete my research, and of course the data on building insulation is necessary for me to draw conclusions.”

“I wouldn’t worry about that, our Mr Jarvis, head of building maintenance will deliver those personally within a week or be looking for a new job. Ah, that could be his call, now–I have to go, how are the kids?”

“Fine, they enjoyed the hotel the other day.”

“Use it as much as you like.”

“Thanks, Henry–I do appreciate it.”

“My pleasure, and I mean it. Bye, sweetheart.”

A little later the phone rang again. “Lady Catherine?”

“Yes, who is this?”

“Um, it’s Peter Jarvis, building maintenance.”

“I see, and to what do I accord this honour–I’m only ecology advisor.”

“I–um–have an apology to make.”

“Oh dear, why’s that?” I smirked, he couldn’t see it but I was enjoying his toadying, served him right, the arrogant twit. Needless to say, he promised me all the data I wanted within a week or ten days and was there anything else he could help me with. I felt like saying, my garage needs painting–but delayed that gratification for another day.

Normally I wouldn’t dream of dropping someone in it like I did, but his arrogance got right up my nose–so I sneezed and he got snotted. Such is life–now back to everyday mundanities and feeding these young folk, oh yes, Julie is out tonight, must remember to give her some money for the taxi fare back.