The Campus Trilogy (72 page)

I read the missive. Then I took a handkerchief out of my pocket and handed it to her. ‘This is ridiculous,’ I said. ‘Why have you been chosen?’

She reached into her bag and took out another typed leaflet entitled ‘Criteria for Reduncancy’. ‘It’s all in here,’ she said.

‘Explain to me how it works.’

Penelope took a deep breath. ‘As I told you, Sloth established a redundancy committee which is chaired by Jenny. Somehow they’ve decided on ten criteria to evaluate every member of staff.
Things like whether their area of expertise can be taught by
anyone
else, whether they attract post-graduate students, whether they have an international reputation and whether they
contribute
to the administration of the university.’

‘So the whole thing is meant to be objective?’ I suggested.

‘Supposedly,’ sniffed Penelope. ‘It’s the heads of department who have been told to rank each staff member. You get three points for excellent; two points for average; and one point for poor. Then they add up each person’s points. Whoever is lowest is put at risk. Then all these people in the different departments are compared with one another, and those with the lowest scores of all get this horrible letter telling them they’ll be sacked.’

Penelope tried to pull herself together. She blew her nose. ‘Look at my assessment, Harry. I only got thirteen out of a
possible
thirty.’

‘That can’t be right,’ I said. ‘You work very hard for the
university
. Look at what you’ve done for the union.’

Penelope sounded bitter. ‘That doesn’t count. You get no points for the union at all …’

I was shocked. ‘That’s a disgrace! It’s an important element in staff welfare. Anyway, even without it, I just don’t believe your score. You publish a lot and I know you’re a successful teacher. Your classes always attract lots of students.’

‘I know. Thirteen is ridiculous. I teach as much as everyone else – more than some. I have six full-time doctoral students. My research is included in the Research Assessment Exercise and I’m the examinations’ officer for my department. That’s a big
administrative
job …’

‘But surely your head of department knows all this.’ I was bewildered.

‘She does. But she refused to do the scoring. Almost all the departmental heads did. It’s a matter of solidarity. They don’t want to be responsible for getting their colleagues dismissed.’

‘Good for them!’ I said. ‘But who did do the dreaded deed then?’

‘Jenny Sloth, of course … who do you think?’

I felt that I was descending into the world of Alice in Wonderland. ‘But she doesn’t have any idea about your work. How does she know if you have an international reputation or not?’

‘She doesn’t … But somebody had to do it. And so, as
chairman
of the redundancy committee, she did. And she was
determined
to mark me down.’

‘Are you certain about this?’ I asked.

‘Oh yes … I went to see her. She admitted it. She said that she had definite proof of my disloyalty towards the Acting
Vice-Chancellor
. Those were her very words …’

I was uncomprehending. ‘What on earth did she mean?’

‘I told you, Harry. Sloth’s read all my emails. I know it’s against my human rights and anyway no gentleman reads
someone
’s private correspondence, but, as I’ve told you, he tapped into my computer. That’s how he knows what I think of him … and that’s why that cow gave me the score she did.’

‘That’s disgraceful,’ I said. ‘You must appeal …’

‘There’s no proper appeal mechanism. It’s all happening so fast. I’m going to be out before anything can be done about it. And anyway, I’m not the only one.’

I was alarmed. ‘What do you mean?’

‘The Sloths hate me because of my emails and, as a result, I got almost the lowest score … but of the ten people being made redundant, eight either are or have been members of the union committee. Sloth sees this as his chance to destroy the opposition once and for all. He wants to abolish all union activity in the university.’

I had to admit this sounded all too probable. ‘Just as a matter of academic interest, who were the other two?’ I asked.

Penelope gave the ghost of a smile. ‘One was someone in English. His head of department was prepared to participate in the exercise and, in this case, it’s fair. The person selected has a serious drink problem. He hardly ever turns up to his classes; he’s published no research for more than ten years and he refuses even to think about administration. In any case, it won’t be much of a saving for the
university
; he’s due to retire at the end of next year anyway.’

‘And the other?’ I persisted.

‘Olive O’Shea,’ answered Penelope. ‘She actually scored a
little
higher than me though I honestly don’t see how. She’s hardly been into the place since she was appointed and she’s certainly never published. She did turn up for a couple of days when she demanded a new room because the one she was allocated was too
small. And she did agree to serve on the redundancy committee. Then she disappeared again. I believe she’s with her husband in the United States at the moment.’

‘Look Penelope,’ I said. ‘this conversation must be
confidential
. I’m going to see Sloth in a couple of days. He tried to pretend to me on the telephone that these redundancies were a groundless rumour, but now I know the facts, I’m going to
confront
him.’

‘But what can you do?’ Penelope was despairing.

‘Well,’ I insisted. ‘There are two lines of attack. In the first place I am going to insist that the scores are revisited. It’s clear that Mrs Sloth is not the person to do them. I’ll request that Felix Glass goes through everyone’s curriculum vitae and at least then it’ll be done fairly. He’s a nice man and he won’t let his personal prejudices get in the way …’

Penelope agreed cautiously. ‘That’s true … but it doesn’t solve the problem. If my score is raised, then someone else is going to be at the bottom. And then they’ll be sacked. The whole thing’s just as ghastly …’

‘I said there was a second line of attack. Now you must keep this to yourself. He obviously hasn’t told you, but I saw Morris for tea the other day. The national office of the union is taking this whole business very seriously. They’ve got a legal opinion from an expensive barrister who says that Sloth’s not followed the correct redundancy procedures. As a result the whole
exercise
is invalid.’

‘No need to go to a posh lawyer … I could have told you that for nothing.’ Penelope blew her nose again.

‘And if necessary the union is prepared to take out a legal injunction in the High Court to stop the university continuing with this course of action.’

‘Wow!’ Penelope was impressed.

‘I know …,’ I continued. ‘Apparently an injunction costs about forty thousand pounds. But hopefully the union won’t have to pay. The university is in the wrong and so costs will be awarded against it.’

Penelope found it difficult to get her mind round all this. ‘You mean the union is prepared to risk forty thousand pounds to save our jobs?’

‘That’s what you pay your subscription for,’ I pointed out.

‘Wow!’ said Penelope again.

‘Anyway,’ I continued. ‘I’m going to tell Sloth about what’s happening. I’ll try to persuade him to delay any action until we know the Funding Council’s plans for St Sebastian’s. It’s stupid to think of getting rid of staff until we know what subjects are going to be taught in the future.’

‘So you’re going to be the union ambassador?’

‘Well … I’m going to try to persuade the Acting
Vice-Chancellor
to see sense, to save money and to try for once to act as a rational human being. That’s the sort of thing a university Visitor is supposed to do.’

‘From what I know of Sloth,’ observed Penelope gloomily, ‘he’ll be completely bull-headed. St Sebastian’s will end up
having
to pay for an injunction and Sloth will find the money by making even more staff redundant …’

As arranged, on Wednesday I set off for Sloth’s office. I had to battle my way through a group of noisy French adolescents who were milling around the West Front of the cathedral. They were all eating ice cream and most of them had dropped their wrappers on the steps. I could detect no sign of a
supervising
adult. No doubt the teachers had gone to enjoy the shops and had left their charges to entertain each other. I watched as the young people shoved and jostled through the entrance of the great church. Perhaps, I thought to myself, there was something to be said for Blenkensop’s insistence on admission charges.

When I arrived at the university, I had to wait outside Sloth’s door. He was in the middle of a long telephone conversation. When it finally came to an end, he was flustered. ‘That was my revered predecessor,’ he said.

I was amused. ‘Lord Flanagan of Fandonegal? What did he want?’

‘Oh he’s heard about our staffing rearrangements. He’s not happy about one particular aspect. It’s nothing important. I’ll get Jenny to change it …’

I was curious. What could Flanagan be concerned about? He had made it fairly clear that he wanted nothing further to do with
St Sebastian’s. Knowing his egoism, it must be something which concerned him personally … Then I got it.

‘He’s upset that Olive O’Shea is to be made redundant!’

Sloth blenched. ‘Nothing’s definitely been decided yet. And of course Lord Flanagan is quite right. I don’t know how Jenny made such a mistake. Olive is immensely valuable to the
university
. We couldn’t possibly let her go …’

I realised that I was going to have to tackle the matter head on. ‘I’m sorry Robert, but you really must tell me the truth. Whatever you say, these redundancies have been formally decided and the letters of dismissal have already been sent out.’

Sloth could not deny it. I followed up my advantage. ‘As Visitor I’m not happy with the way the exercise has been
conducted
. I know there’s been a problem with the heads of
departments
. But with the best will in the world, Jenny can’t be expected to know the full details of every lecturer’s career … And I have to say that I have detected some very serious
anomalies
in her judgement.’

‘Jenny has done an excellent job …,’ began Sloth.

I cut across him. ‘But you yourself admit she’s made a mistake in the case of Lady Barridon. I think we do need to discuss the whole matter from first principles before everything blows up in our faces. After all, as you know, you can’t be too careful when it comes to personnel matters.’

I thought Sloth would be furious, but to my surprise he looked rather relieved. ‘Shall we have some coffee?’ he asked.

I thought this an excellent idea so Sloth rose from behind his desk to ask his secretary to make it. When he came back, he sat down in an armchair and he gestured that I should sit on the sofa.

Then he took a deep breath. ‘I’m glad you’ve come. I need to talk to somebody,’ he said. ‘It does seem to be more difficult than I thought. I’ve just received a letter from some expensive lawyer in London. The union is threatening to serve an injunction on the university. They say they’re going to take us to the High Court to stop the redundancies.’

‘Have you heard from the High Court itself?’ I asked.

‘No, not yet, but it’s only a matter of time. They say we went wrong in some obscure element of the procedure and, as a result, they have the right to stop the whole thing.’

‘That’s the way employment law works,’ I pointed out. ‘You’ve got to get every last detail right. Otherwise the whole thing fails.’

Sloth tried to take a determined line. ‘Well we’re not going to put up with this. We’re not going to give in to a few bolshie union agitators who have no idea about the real world …’

‘If they’re going to the High Court, it sounds to me as if they understand the real world all too well,’ I remarked.

Sloth looked more agitated than I could ever remember. He strode over to his desk and rummaged through a large stack of papers. ‘Where is it? I know it’s here somewhere …’

‘What are you looking for?’ I asked.

‘I got the accountant to estimate how much money we’d lose if the Funding Council shuts down the partnerships. It’s well over three million … Where did I put it? I had it an hour ago.’

‘Don’t worry …’ I tried to be reassuring.

‘So you see we’ve got to make cuts. We’ve no alternative and it’s the managers who have to decide where the cuts will fall. Not the unions. After all, managers have to manage …’

‘So what will you do about the injunction?’ I asked.

Sloth tried to sound resolute. ‘What can I do?’ he asked. ‘I’m not going to take any notice of it!’

I shook my head. ‘Robert, you’ve got to be realistic. You can’t just ignore it. You’ll be in contempt of court. Look, I should tell you about a conversation I had with Morris O’Murphy…’

‘That Irish troublemaker! He’s the one who’s responsible for all this mess.’ Sloth clenched his teeth. ‘If it’s the last thing I do, Harry, I’m going to drum out all his wretched union cronies from the campus once and for all … What did he say?’

‘He approached me as the Visitor.’

‘And he wants you to act on the union’s behalf? I knew it. He’d resort to anything to get his own way.’

‘No, actually,’ I said. ‘He didn’t ask me to do anything. But when I heard what the union is planning, I thought someone ought to talk to you about it.’

Sloth suddenly looked tired. ‘What do you want to say, Harry?’

‘We both know that it won’t do any good for the university to be served with an injunction. The publicity will be frightful and the cost will be enormous …’

He was startled. ‘Cost? What do you mean cost?’

‘Well, if there really is a hearing in the High Court, and it turns out that your procedure was less than perfect, you’ll have to pay for their lawyers as well as your own. The final bill could run into hundred of thousands of pounds.’

‘No! …’

‘I’m afraid so…’