Group Efforts 21

Group Efforts
The Diary of a Workgroup Manager

Episode 39 (1997)

Our hero's back in charge, Cathy's back to basics, Campbell's back in Scotland and Llewellyn's back in the driving seat.

Monday 2nd
After two weeks of bliss it's back to the grindstone. The department is, at least, still standing, and on the whole Cathy's done a good job of holding it all together. I decide not to stress this point during our debrief, but Costello barges in and describes her performance as outstanding, forcing me into a public show of agreement. At lunchtime Llewellyn asks if I'll be at the management meeting, or if Cathy's taking permanent charge. I consider the obvious rejoinder too cruel, but Andy doesn't, and asks Llewellyn whether we'll still be seeing him there now that Bill Campbell's running IT. Llewellyn skulks off, and Andy receives the Order of the Free Cuppa. It's good to be back.

Wednesday 11th
Rose asks what's happening about our Materials Monitoring change request. I know nothing of it, but quiz Cathy, who confesses that she submitted it in my absence and forgot to mention it. Forestalling further discussion, I deliver a satisfyingly robust reprimand, at which point June asks how we're going to handle inter-project transfers until the system's fixed. Urgently reopening discussions, I find that it is, indeed, incapable of IPTs, rendering it virtually useless to us. I call IT to demand urgent action, and Llewellyn replies, crudely, that I might have noticed the problem earlier if I hadn't been blinded by the sunlight from Bill Campbell's backside. He also says that the fix may take some time, and if I'm not happy I should take it up at the management meeting. I have, I realise, become a pawn, this time on an Anglo-Caledonian chessboard.

Tuesday 17th
An extraordinary management meeting, at which one departmental head after another complains about problems with the MM system. Each one is news to everyone else, as we've all, it seems, been too embarrassed to mention them after the euphoric greeting we gave the system a month ago. A serene Llewellyn waits until everyone is done before announcing that the system's low-level source coding means modifications will take at least three times longer than they did with his 4GL version. George pointedly asks why Bill Campbell isn't down here to sort it out, and Llewellyn pointedly replies that he's stuck in Glasgow having trouble with Smithsons' Group Integration mods. Costello sits through it all in stony silence, for once on the wrong end of what's beginning to look like a Grade A cockup.

Thursday 19th
Danny asks for two weeks holiday at near-immediate notice, as he's got a fantastic flight-only deal to Tenerife. I consult Cathy, who says it'll probably mean more Hounslow slippage, and also that she'll have to postpone her team-leadership course. I tell Danny to go, and Cathy that the first rule of leadership is to put your team's welfare first. At lunch Andy says the word is that the Old Man's blaming Costello for the MM business, that Llewellyn's doing remarkably little to help him out, and that Bill Campbell may not be venturing south of the border again. We collar Amrat, who confirms that the 4GL manuals are being dusted off in the Lubyanka, and Bill's pied à terre is now home to six redundant LaserJets 2's. Incredibly, it looks as if the great escapologist may have done it again.

Friday 27th
The end of a good week, and an eventful month. Hounslow backlog has actually diminished in Danny's absence, while Cathy's been tied down doing his work and thus unable to develop her management potential. Meanwhile Amrat says we'll have the old MM system back within a fortnight, which everyone agrees will be a good thing. It's my round in the Homeward Bound Club, and at the bar Peg asks if Llewellyn's little plan has worked out yet. I ask what she means, and she says that he knew from the beginning that the MM system had problems, but that he kept quiet and let Costello and Campbell drop themselves in it, aided and abetted by us. Humbled, the assembled All Stars raise their glasses to salute the Meister of intrigue, and swear a terrible, if as yet unspecified, revenge.