I later found out that after Laura left and I retreated to my bedroom for a lengthy session with Cafune, the Whizz had driven back to her office and basically marched into the senior partners office to read him the riot act. Apparently the short version was that if I was not treated as a person rather than a profit centre they were going to lose me as a client and most likely others once the reasons got out, and if my source had it right, she ended with, “so what the fuck are you going to do about it?”My phone rang. Mirella answered. He was told I was not to be disturbed and she would inform me that he called.It was late evening before I hit the kitchen for much needed food and a very large mug of tea. I was part way through my second sandwich when Mirella appeared, not the easy going, ever smiling Mirella. The girl was pissed.Hands on hips, eyes flashing, and that aura some people have that makes me think of alarm bells, klaxons and air raid sirens.I’m British, I looked straight at. No recriminations. That's not our job. We're just here to help. OK?" Yes, Tom." He was her boss and she felt bound to obey but she realised that what he had said was completely right. The Project Manager was bound to feel that he had missed a trick. That was not their business. It was his director's or the Board's. Their business was to help. Her respect for Tom, already considerable, went up another notch.They were met at the airport by Bill Reynolds, a stocky ebullient man whom they both knew quite well and liked. He greeted them warmly."Good to see you, Tom," he said, "and refreshing to see you Susie. We're a bit short of feminine beauty."She smiled. "Thank you, kind sir," she said."Any freight?" Bill asked."Yes," replied Tom. "A portable XRD."Bill chuckled. "Glad it's portable. We haven't got a very big chopper to take us to the site."It was almost inevitable that it took the best part of an hour to get the XRD through Customs. They took no notice of offers to speed the.
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