COMMITTEEMAN

COMMITTEEMAN

"So moved, Mr. Chairman," said Claude Oakes, before they even had time to discuss the issue. "I'll second that."

A sufficient show of ‘in-favour’ hands saw the motion through, and the lure of the Green Dragon held 'any other business' to a five seconds negative head-nodding session.

"Meeting closed," the chairman declared, then they raced to the pub.

Oakes, as usual, hung back just inside the door of the saloon bar. Eager as he had been to see the business dispensed with and get there, the prospect of standing a round of drinks did not appeal to him at all. "G and T," he had told Jenner on their way in. "Ice but no lemon."

Robin Jenner, who seemed to have been put on this earth merely to do Oakes' bidding, had taken due note and was now returning to the corner table where the officially closed meeting would continue, albeit unofficially.

"Not bad," said Bevis, the chairman. "Twenty-five minutes tonight. If we go on like this, we'll have it down to a quarter of an hour soon."

Some of the group laughed. Others were not quite so amused. One of these, Brian Balchin, finished crunching on an Oxo flavoured crisp and spoke: "It's not right," he said. "We've been entrusted to conduct the circle's affairs in a businesslike manner, yet all we seem to do is rush through the agenda so you lot can go boozing. There were several things I'd like to have discussed this evening, yet we weren't given any opportunity."

Nonsense, Mr. Balchin," said Oakes, already draining his first drink and eyeing up the others for the next likely donor. "If you wanted to raise something then why didn't you say so?"

"Because I couldn't get a word in. You and Jenner seem to have things wrapped up between you. He proposes the ideas – which I suspect are yours, really - then you second them straight away and it's put to the vote. It's wholly undemocratic if you ask me."

Oakes sneered. "That's committee technique my boy," he said. "Good heavens, if we all rambled on about everything we'd never get through the agenda. That was why we voted Colin, here, as chairman. He's not one for letting wafflers hog the floor."

"Quite right, Claude," Jenner added.

"But surely," Balchin reasoned, "this ‘committee technique’, as you call it, doesn't necessarily ensure that the circle's interests are best served. A lot of matters require discussion. I mean, supposing one of us has a good idea that might be enhanced by other peoples' input. Wouldn't it be better if we heard that too?"

"He's got a point," Colin Bevis, the chairman, had to admit.

"Balderdash!" Oakes said, handing his empty glass to Jenner. "Good ideas, like the truth, will out in the end. It's not necessary to sit there gilding the lily for hours at a time simply to get good ideas into practise. Committees should be doers, not talkers. My belief is that once things are decided, the membership soon deals with the minutia. G and T please."

"But I just got you one," Jenner protested.

"It's true," Bevis said, referring to Oakes' observation and not Jenner's complaint. "Remember when we instigated the charity walk? We simply agreed that there should be one. We didn't spend half the night talking about the route, or the colour of the socks to be worn. The members sorted all that stuff out for themselves, didn't they. And besides, Claude, here, should know how committees work; he is on several, after all."

"Fifteen," Oakes confirmed proudly. "Rising to sixteen next month when I get elected to the Allotments' Society. Whose round is it, by the way?"

A few seconds of embarrassed silence had Jenner up and buying again. Balchin, despite being in a clear minority, had no intention of letting the matter drop there. "It's still wrong," he said. "If we're not there to discuss issues then why have a committee in the first place? You might as well have one man making all the decisions and be done with it."

"That's taking things a bit far," Bevis said.

"Oh, I don't know so much," Oakes mused.

Peter Beech, the treasurer who had said nothing so far, remained silent, though pulled a comical face behind Oakes' back; an action that only served to encourage Balchin with his attack. "That's it, isn't it Oakes," Balchin pushed. "You don't really believe in the ethos of committees, at all, do you. What you'd like is an autocracy. I'm surprised you didn't stand for the chair yourself. Then, you wouldn't even have to demur to Bevis, would you."

"Dear boy," Oakes met the charge with condescension, "It pains me to think that you should hold such a low opinion of my good intent. When you’ve served on as many committees as I have you will come to realise the wisdom of avoiding inordinate fuss. You see, well-meaning as they might be, committee life does hold considerable appeal for those people who are, shall we say, a little light on leadership qualities. There's usually a plethora of second-bests, the types who are dissatisfied in their daily work, unable to gain promotion and so forth. In my experience, they tend to be overflowing with frustration, and see the committee room as the perfect arena to vent it; have some of the say which is denied them elsewhere. Er... what, exactly, is your line of work, Balchin?"

"I'm in chemicals; but I don't really see what that's got to do with it."

"Up at Montanso are you?"

"That's right."

"There you are, if you don't mind my saying so. Must be over five hundred people at Montanso, and that's just the local factory. It's probably twenty times that worldwide..."

"Eight hundred, here; and thirty thousand worldwide, as a matter of fact."

"Well, whatever; it proves my point. How can anybody who's no more than a faceless cog in a place like that have any real say in what goes on? That's why you joined us, I assume. You've got to have your say somewhere. As I said; when you’ve served on as many committees as…"

"I resent that!" Balchin snapped. "I joined the circle because I enjoy wine-making, and for no other reason. And I only accepted nomination for the committee because I was told you were short."

"If you insist," Oakes scoffed. "We'll have to watch him," he observed once Balchin had left. A typical committeeman if ever I saw one. All talk and no do."

In accordance with the minutes of the previous session, the next meeting of the Dowberry Wine and Beermakers' Circle convened on Tuesday 8th November at seven thirty. Apologies for absence - and there were always some of those - preceded the main business in hand. Next, the chairman directed everybody's attention to the proposed purchase of two industrial-sized vats that could be used in a joint brew which the club hoped to undertake. "Robin Jenner," said Bevis, "has suggested that the circle approach Montanso to see if they have any spare vessels, or even if they would be prepared to offer some to us at a concessionary rate..."

"Seconded and so moved, Mr. Chairman!" Oakes leapt in.

"Just one minute," Balchin put up his hand, remonstrating.

"Next item," the chairman ignored him as the motion passed, and the meeting was pared down to fifteen minutes dead.

In the Green Dragon, once more, Oakes held back until Jenner had bought the drinks, then joined his fellow committee members, including Balchin, at their usual table. "Speedily dealt with," he complimented Bevis. "That's how it should be done, Balchin my boy."

"Well I think it's an outrage," Balchin said. "Yet again we were denied any discussion at all."

"What's there to discuss?" Oakes asked, downing his drink in one.

"There was the question of those vats for a start. I wanted to clarify a couple of things about that idea."

"G and T," Oakes prodded Jenner. "Look here," he turned back to Balchin, "that's exactly the point I was making last time. All we want to do is buy a couple of bloody barrels. Anyone would think we were talking about negotiating a multi-million pound contract the way you go on. We all agree that we should make the purchase, so why waste time talking about it. We either buy them or we don't, it's as simple as that."

"He's right," Bevis added. "It's hardly a contentious issue is it."

"No;" Balchin said, "but I would have been interested to know who's going to approach the company, seeing as I work there. I thought I might be able to point them in the right direction, that's all."

"Well don't you worry your head," Oakes advised. "I shall do it myself. I think it takes somebody relatively senior to make the contact. I'll go straight to the top. None of the middle men will have the necessary say so. That's my experience of these big companies. They're a bit like good committees in that respect; two or three prime movers who make the decisions, and the rest - the padding - there only to do what they’re told, and get on with it."

"Well if you'll take my advice..."

"Save it Mr. Balchin. I'm used to dealing at the highest management levels. Now where is Jenner with those drinks?"

** **

It was pure coincidence that the first person Oakes should bump into when he walked into Montanso Chemicals' reception area was the white-coated Brian Balchin. "Where's the MD's office?" he asked, without first exchanging any courtesies.

"Have you got an appointment?" Balchin enquired. "He's a difficult man to catch if you haven't."

Oakes' face adopted the smug expression that Balchin had come to dislike to a degree. "Well of course," he said, "you'd not find it easy to get to him; but it's different where valued acquaintances are concerned. You'll learn that as you go through life, my boy."

"Oh," Balchin was surprised. "I didn't realise you know him."

"Not intimately; but well enough not to have to wait in line. Ah, there's the receptionist. I'll get her to announce me."

"Hello again," Balchin smiled at Oakes when he once more walked through reception some forty minutes later. "How did you get on?"

"Er.. fine," said Oakes. "Our meeting was interrupted; some flap on somewhere. I agreed to wait here until it's sorted out."

Balchin shrugged, and went about his business.

He next came across Oakes in the works canteen, just before two. "Still here?" he asked the red faced man who was stirring a cup of stewed tea.

"Yes," Oakes sighed. "Seems he's well ensconced."

"Wouldn't it be better to try another day then?"

"Certainly not."

"Then perhaps you'd like to come along to the filling area with me. I'm sure I could persuade the boys, there, to part with a couple of barrels."

Oakes was having none of it. "Certainly not," he said again, quite ungratefully. "I believe in doing things through the proper channels – dealing with the organ grinder, so to speak. I've waited since ten, and I'll go on waiting the rest of the day if necessary. Now, haven't you got any work to do?"

"Plenty," said Balchin, making his departure. "Be seeing you."

At four o'clock, the receptionist took an internal call and summoned Oakes to her desk. "I'm sorry," she said, "but the managing director doesn't expect to be free again today. Could I book you in for an appointment some other time?"

"Really!" Oakes near spat. "This is most inconsiderate. What's the problem now?"

"He has to attend a staff consultative committee meeting," she explained. "He's a great believer in worker democracy."

"Bloody typical!"

"I beg your pardon?"

"Nothing. Well I hope you'll tell him he's kept me waiting all day."

"He knows that sir. The trouble is he's an extremely busy man, and I did warn you, this morning, that he mightn't be able to fit you in."

"Did you? Hmm. Well, book me in for ten o'clock tomorrow."

The receptionist thumbed through her appointments book. "Tomorrow's out, I'm afraid. Would Wednesday fortnight suit?"

Now, Claude Oakes was reaching the point of apoplexy. "Look," he conceded, loath to admit failure and go away empty-handed, "I only came here on behalf of the local winemaking group. All I want to know is whether your firm could see its way to selling us a couple of barrels for brewing. We're a self-funding organisation - non-profit-making, you understand - and, well, we wondered if you might make some small gesture to help us."

"Why didn't you say so before?" the woman smiled. "The man you need to see about that is Brian. Shall I get him for you?"

“Brian?”

“Brian Balchin. You were talking with him earlier.”

Oakes had to wait, momentarily, for his Adam's apple to come back down from its orbit of his throat. "Yes do," he gasped. "Please do."

** **

It was a massive relief to Oakes when Balchin's name was among those in the 'Apologies for Absence' item at the next committee meeting. He’d been fearful of having his thunder stolen by the man's presence. Now, he could accept the committee's vote of thanks for his sterling efforts in obtaining the two gleaming stainless steel containers that had been delivered to the clubhouse that very day - and at entirely no charge. "It was the least I could do," he said above the applause. "When one has influential contacts, one must use them to advantage."

"I propose a second vote of thanks," Jenner piped up, certain that he was doing what Oakes would want. "I think we should write to the boss of Montanso expressing our gratitude."

"You're quite right," said the chairman. "And who will second the motion?"

For once, Oakes remained silent to Jenner's priming.

"I will," Peter Beech almost sniggered, and it was agreed.

In the Green Dragon, everybody sat and waited while Oakes avoided them for as long as he possibly could; actually buying drinks and hoping that the subject had been dropped by now. "That's the problem," the membership secretary was saying. "We don't know the managing director's name."

"Oakes can tell us," Bevis assured everybody. "He's a friend of the man, apparently."

"Is he?" Beech chuckled. "Brian Balchin doesn't seem to think so."

"What would he know about it?" asked Jenner, still with one disbelieving eye on the wholly uncharacteristic form of Oakes ferrying a tray of drinks from the bar.

"Quite a lot I should imagine," grinned Beech.

"Here we are gentlemen," Oakes put down the tray. "And what's amusing you, Beech?"

"Nothing. We were just wondering whether you could give us the name of Montanso's top man. He's a friend of yours, we understand."

"God! I told you all that I don’t see it's necessary to write to him. I've already thanked him personally; and I know him to be the type who dislikes such gestures. He's a man of action - a bit like myself. He wouldn't want any inordinate fuss made."

Beech nearly choked on his beer. "So he took your advice then?" he provoked.

"Advice?" Oakes was baffled by the question.

"Yes," Beech confirmed. "Don’t you remember? ‘Committees should be doers, not talkers,’ you told him. ‘And when you’ve served on as many comm….’”

“Hmph! And pigs might fly. Balchin? Boss up at Montanso my arse. Doesn’t even have his own office.”

“Oh, he certainly does,” Beech gloated. “In their West End tower block. He’s the CEO of Montanso worldwide. Runs it like a cooperative.”

Oakes flushed-up crimson. "Come on Robin," he grunted at Jenner, starting to leave, and explaining that he had other pressing business to attend to.

Indeed he did; there was, after all, the agenda for tomorrow night’s residents' association meeting to read over - not to mention discussion of the points that he wanted Jenner to propose at the drama group on Thursday. And, of course, he'd need to be well prepared, mentally, for Monday too - when he'd start his term of jury service.

** ** **

© Albert Woods (2013)
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