Espresso Tales - Alexander Hanchett Smith [140]
Bruce looked back into the mirror and smiled at himself.
“You’re a stunner yourself,” he said in self-compliment. “A human Chateau Petrus!”
90. Self-assertiveness Training for Civil Servants It was about this time that the Scottish Executive decided that all civil servants above a certain level of seniority should receive self-assertiveness training. The reason why this training was offered only to those in more senior positions was simple: there appeared to be no need to increase the self-assertiveness of the Self-assertiveness Training for Civil Servants 295
more junior civil servants, whose confidence generally exceeded that of their superiors. Indeed, greater self-assertiveness in the higher echelons of the Executive was thought to be the only way in which policies could be implemented in the face of opposition from below. And in due course, it had been announced, ministers themselves would receive self-assertiveness training to assist them to assert unpopular policies in the face of widespread public opposition and thereby to force their acceptance. (This is not to say that these policies were bad. Indeed, many of them were good; it’s just that the public cannot always be trusted to recognise a good policy when they see it.)
Stuart had signed up for a personal assertiveness workshop that would require him to spend two hours alone in the company of an assertiveness counsellor. He was looking forward to this, as he had gradually been reaching the conclusion that whatever level of assertiveness he managed to achieve in his working environment, this was far from adequate at home. In particular, he had concluded that if he was to do anything about his relationship with his son, Bertie, then he would need to stand up to Irene. And that was an alarming thought. It was all very well to have scored a minor victory with Bertie’s attendance at Tofu’s bowling party, but it would be quite another thing to achieve the goal of getting Bertie out of psychotherapy, of relieving him of the need to attend yoga lessons in Stockbridge, and to dismantle, as far as possible, the remaining planks of what Irene called the
“Bertie project”. And yet he owed it to his son. He had vowed that he would not let the little boy down: he would restore to him the tiny pleasures and idle moments of a happy boyhood. He would make his life whole again.
Stuart sat in Meeting Room 64A/3B/4/16 (west) in the offices of the Scottish Executive, awaiting the arrival of the assertiveness counsellor, who was already ten minutes late. Stuart passed the time reading a newspaper, and was immersed in an editorial when the door was opened by a slight man in his early thirties, wearing jeans and an open-neck shirt.
“You’re Stuart Pollock?” asked the counsellor, glancing at a clipboard in his hand.
296 Self-assertiveness Training for Civil Servants Stuart replied that he was, and extended his right hand to shake hands. The counsellor seized his hand and squeezed it tightly.
“Good to meet you, Stuart!” he said. “My name’s Terry. You got a problem with that?”
Stuart blinked. “No,” he said hesitantly. “Of course not.”
“You see,” said Terry, “some people think that the name Terry is a bit effeminate. Know what I mean by that?” Terry fixed him with a stare. “You don’t find me short, do you, Stuart?”
“Not at all,” said Stuart.
“And would it matter if you did?” asked Terry aggressively.
“What exactly is wrong with being on the short side?”
“I didn’t say anything was wrong with it,” said Stuart. “You raised it, not me. And, anyway, I don’t think your name is effeminate, Shorty . . . I mean, Terry. And your height is neither here nor there as far as I am concerned.”
Terry continued to glare at him. “All right, let’s sit down. I’m going to take