Travelling On - 7. Workload and Worries

The only good thing about getting back to his house was Jerry’s enthusiastic greeting. He’d left it slightly later this time, as James and he had gone to bed for a couple of hours following their traditional Sunday lunch. He was fairly sure they’d burned off quite a few calories and it had been much more fun than an afternoon walk.

A long week stretched ahead; Monday to Wednesday on normal duties, followed by Thursday to Sunday on emergency cover. He’d already sent an email to Richard requesting those days off for the following week. Generally, you were supposed to give at least two weeks notice for holiday, but as he wasn’t a regular offender, he thought he’d probably get away with it.

He’d just switched on his laptop to update the tracker when Jerry decided he wanted a cuddle. The thought of his cat accidentally wiping out the carefully designed spreadsheet with all of its formulas and tabs made him chuckle. How would he begin to explain that one?

He set the laptop to one side. Jerry stretched and purred.

‘How would you fancy being a country cat?’ he asked. ‘Fields all around. No Smudge. Lots of mice to catch.’

Jerry rumbled contentedly. Craig remembered seeing a TV programme about urban foxes. They didn’t generally tackle well-fed domestic moggies, preferring the remains of kebabs or fish suppers, but the lean, mean country foxes might look on Jerry as a tasty snack. Still, he could just as easily get run over by one of the boy racers who used the road outside as a racetrack. If you tried to avoid danger all the time, you might never do anything.

So, second weekend over. He’d thought it went well, apart from meeting Archie. James hadn’t mentioned him again, but Craig wondered if maybe a farmer, a fellow countryman, might fit in better with James’s life. Although, if that was the case, why hadn’t it happened before? James had, after all, been living in the cottage since September. Plenty of time to get to know each other, if there’d been any mutual attraction. It wasn’t as if he and James had waited around. Hard to believe it had been only two weeks since that fateful snowstorm. He probably shouldn’t worry about Archie. Although it couldn’t be denied he was there, and seemingly interested in getting to know James better…

Craig snapped himself out of thinking that way. There was no point in wondering what might - or might not be - happening. He had to get into the mindset for a week at work and forget about his country interlude. ‘Come on, cat. I need to get this paperwork done, or they’ll be chasing me for it.’

He liked to start the week up to date, even if things went to pot later on. Jerry gave a sigh as Craig moved his legs, then reluctantly jumped down to settle on his feet. He picked up the laptop again. God, he hated doing this. It seemed like such a waste of time. Who really needed to know the exact brightness values for every screen in a cinema on each visit? If there was a light problem, you sorted it, job done. A lot of what ‘had’ to be entered on the tracker was duplicate information already available elsewhere. But since the company reorganisation a few years ago, everyone, on all levels, had been saddled with more admin work. He opened the notebook he used on site, then started copying figures over.

Monday morning loomed again. He was at one of his older sites today; a nineteen-fifties cinema now divided up into seven screens. He bet Greg wouldn’t be able to do a service on one of those in under half an hour. To get from the projection room into the auditoria of two of the screens required a trek down several exit ways and flights of stairs. Fortunately, the opening times were well staggered. The last programme didn’t start until almost two, giving him plenty of time. Well, so long as not much had gone wrong in the weeks since his last visit.

He liked this site. It reminded him of the cinema where his own career in the business had started, although that one had long since been closed and replaced by a ten screen multiplex. It had the character lacking in new cinemas. A bit like James’s cottage compared with his modern house, he supposed. It also had an old-fashioned welcome; the first thing the manager asked him as he stepped into the foyer was if he’d like a cup of tea. Phil Myers was much older than most of the general managers these days. He’d been in the business longer than Craig and despite all of the changes, was hanging on ‘until the grim end’ as he often put it. ‘They’d love to get rid of me,’ he’d said. ‘I’m on a ring-fenced salary and at the monthly meetings I like to give these new regional managers a bit of a hard time. So I’m staying on just to spite the bastards.’

‘How’s business?’ Craig asked, following him into the office to get the bundle of keys for the projection rooms.

‘Not bad. We’ve a couple of promising new releases coming out soon. The old place is still holding her own.’

‘Good. Any problems you’ve noticed?’

‘They’ve been complaining about hearing the sound from screen five in screen one again.’

‘Nothing a few hundred thousand pounds worth of proper sound insulation wouldn’t cure,’ Craig said. ‘Until then, shall I just turn down the sub-bass a bit?’

‘Please. It’s not so bad usually, but when you have a crash-bang film in five and something heavy on dialogue in one, it’s annoying for the customers.’ Phil made the tea on top of the battered old safe in the office. ‘You’ve heard we’re losing another member of the management team here?’

‘I heard rumours.’

‘Jane’s going. She’s accepted a job in an independent, where they still believe films are more important than retail spend per customer. I’ve been told not to replace her, just to train up one of the supervisors to fill in. Cheaper, of course.’ He stirred several spoons of sugar into his own mug. ‘Bernie dropped by last week.’

Bernie had been the chief, before digital made his role redundant. ‘How is he?’

‘Looks well. He’s been doing some volunteer work on our local nature reserve and working part-time in the DIY superstore.’ Phil handed the mug over. ‘I don’t suppose you have time to sit here for a natter.’

‘Not if I’m going to get everything done by opening, but I’ll drop in again before I leave.’

The next couple of hours went by in a whirl, as they always did. He was disrupted by two phone calls; one from the OC, informing him one of his sites had just called in to say the projector hadn’t stopped running when they did the last fire alarm test, although everything else had worked perfectly. It would be a corrupt macro, he knew.

The other was Greg. ‘You still on for tomorrow?’ he asked.

‘Sure. What time?’

‘Can you get there for seven-thirty?’

He probably expected Craig to say no. The site was around an hour and a half’s drive from home, so he’d need to be out of the house by six. ‘That’s fine.’

‘Have you heard about the new server upgrades?’

‘No.’ He didn’t particularly want to right now. A glance at the clock showed he was keeping up so far, but any delays would soon put him behind schedule.

‘Well,’ Greg started. ‘There’s this security issue with…’

‘Can you call me later, when everything’s on screen? I’m busy right now.’

‘Oh.’ Greg sounded surprised.

Craig wondered how he had time to stop and talk mid-morning. Probably sitting somewhere filling in his paperwork. ‘Bye,’ he said quickly, ending the call.

Soon they were getting closer to the cinema opening. He’d got a printout of the timesheet and had started with the ones due to open earliest, but there was always a bit of a race from twelve-thirty onwards. He was hungry by then and could have drunk another mug of tea, but losing a couple of minutes just wasn’t viable. You didn’t even stop for a pee unless it was really urgent.

Finally, everything was done, with ten minutes to spare. Craig’s feet hurt from all the running around. He packed all of his test equipment away carefully, had a last look round to make sure he’d not left anything behind and headed for the office.

Phil was on the phone. Monday was the day when the next week’s films were finalised. Like many of the old-school managers, Phil knew what his customers wanted to see and would happily argue with booking department if they tried to make him put a film in one of his larger screens when he knew it wouldn’t do the business. Crest Cinemas booking department tended to treat every site the same and were used having their orders obeyed.

Craig could see from the expression on Phil’s face he was enjoying the fight this week. While the manager made his case, he put the kettle on and sat in the comfy chair next to the safe, taking in the atmosphere of the place. Phil’s numerous publicity awards filled most of one wall, plus the trophies he’d won as Showman of the Year in 1985, 1987 and 1990. After that, the award had been abandoned as being too ‘old-fashioned’.

While Phil beat down the young pup who must have drawn the short straw in booking department that week, Craig made them both tea. Eventually, the call finished. Phil sat back with a smile of satisfaction. ‘They can argue all they want, but it’s the figures that matter. I’m not dropping a film down to a small screen when it’s still filling up in the evenings. And not for the rubbish they wanted me to put in there.’

‘Good on you.’ Craig always liked to hear about small acts of rebellion. ‘I’ve reduced the bass in screen five and left the old sound file on the USB stick by the main server. If you find you need a bit more oomph in there, you can just copy it back.’

‘I’ll leave that to one of the younger members of staff. But thanks. So, how’s life been treating you?’

‘Not badly at all.’

‘And your love life?’ Phil always asked that.

‘I’ve met someone new.’

Phil beamed. He’d been with his partner Anthony for thirty-odd years and was convinced having a solid relationship had kept him sane through all of the mergers, restructuring and changes the company had gone through. ‘Good for you. He’s not in this business, is he?’

‘Fortunately not, or we’d never get to see each other. He’s bought an old farm cottage in Derbyshire and is about to start a business renting out holiday cabins.’

‘Good with his hands, is he?’ Phil smirked.

‘Very.’ Craig sipped some tea. ‘I really like him. I’m pretty sure he feels the same…’

‘So, what’s your problem? Grab that man before someone else does.’

Craig sighed. ‘It’s this job. I’m driving all over the country and it’s getting worse, not better.’

Phil leaned forward. ‘Bit of advice. Don’t give up love for work. No one ever lay on their deathbed saying, “I wish I’d worked longer hours”. Get out while you can, before this industry destroys you.’

Craig wasn’t sure if that was a quote from some obscure film. It sounded dramatic enough. ‘What else can I do?’

‘You’ll find something. But if you don’t take the chance, you’ll spend the rest of your life wondering what would have happened if you had.’

He thought about Phil’s words on the drive home. Madge had said more or less the same. But giving up wasn’t in his nature. Everyone said redundancies were coming. Maybe he should just hang on until they offered him enough to make it worthwhile. He’d given a good few years of his life to the company, after all. Yet, what if he waited too long, like Pete, James’s former partner? Even if he didn’t drop dead at work, what if James decided it was pointless trying to continue a relationship with someone who was hardly ever around? There was no easy answer.

He’d bought a stir fry in the local supermarket; pre-cut strips of meat and vegetables with a sachet of sauce. He microwaved a bag of rice while he made it. James was right. It didn’t really take much longer than re-heating a ready meal and was far tastier. Pudding was a good dollop of Greek yogurt topped with canned raspberries. He sat down with a glass of wine, Jerry curled on his knee and searched the streaming services for something to watch.

He set his alarm for five thirty the next morning. No way was he going to be late meeting that little shit. Luckily, the roads were clear of accidents and he was out early enough to beat the rush ‘hour’, which usually started around seven on most of the major routes. He reached Pine Hill Leisure Park by seven-twenty and was gratified to find his was the first - and only - car outside. It was drizzling lightly, so he waited in the car until Greg pulled up alongside just after seven-thirty.

‘Found it all right?’ Greg asked.

‘Yeah. I came here on an emergency call a year or so ago. Shall I bring in any of my stuff?’

Greg looked at him. ‘That’s the point, isn’t it. We can work alongside. It’ll get through it faster.’

So, that was his game. Using someone else to get his work done. ‘Fine.’

He began to unload. Tools, test equipment, sound kit, all stacked on his trolley. Greg stared at him. ‘You don’t need all that.’

‘I do, for a service visit.’

Greg shrugged and pulled a small bag of tools from the boot of his car, plus his laptop. ‘Let’s go.’

Craig waited while he unlocked the front door and went inside to disable the alarm, then followed him into the foyer, dimly lit and silent. Pine Hill was a fairly new ten screen multiplex, meaning the projection room was one large area rather than separate boxes. Greg gave him the numbers for the key code entry lock, in case the door shut behind him at some point.

‘I’ll start on one and you can do two. Then I’ll show you why I’m faster.’

‘Finishing quickly isn’t necessarily a good thing,’ Craig said, wondering if he’d pick up on the innuendo, but Greg didn’t even smile. Maybe he really was an android? He unpacked his tools, then began checking in his usual order. Lamphouse first, while it was still cold. He examined the lamp for any discolouration, then checked the mirror, fans and tightness of connections. He glanced across to Greg, who seemed to be doing much the same so far. There was really only one logical way to proceed with the service. Next he took off the side panel to check the coolant level and the grub screws on the lens motors, which worked loose over time. Getting to them was fiddly. You had to remove another small panel and a hose. He was still tightening the last screw when he heard Greg clipping the cover back on. How could he have done that any faster? Craig decided to ask.

‘Simples,’ he said. He obviously liked that expression. ‘It was fine.’

‘You didn’t physically tighten the connections?’

‘No point, is there?’

Actually there was. If those screws worked loose, it would mean the lens didn’t change format and would entail an emergency visit. ‘It says on the service sheet to check the connections.’

‘So? I did. They look ok.’

Right. So there was the first shortcut. Craig cleaned the lens and 3D filter, then checked it moved smoothly from side to side. He powered up, struck the lamp and connected his laptop. First thing he noticed was the projector wasn’t running the latest firmware. If he updated it now, it would take at least fifteen minutes. ‘Hey, Greg. This projector’s not been updated.’

‘I’ll do it next time. Leave it. That version’s reliable.’

While the lamp warmed up - it took a good ten minutes to reach maximum brightness and stability - he disconnected the server, pulled it out, took the lid off and checked all the connections, then blew dust out of it. He didn’t notice Greg doing the same, but maybe he left that part until later. By the time he was ready to check the screen brightness levels and colour gamut, Greg had disappeared somewhere. Probably in his own auditorium. Craig took a detour and peered out of the porthole. Greg was sprawled in one of the seats, feet up on the back of the row in front, talking on his phone. There was no way he’d complete this screen in fifteen minutes. That amount of time had almost elapsed already.

He went to the auditorium and did the initial light checks in 2D. Then he had to go back upstairs to slide the 3D filter across as these ones weren’t automated. As he returned, Greg was also on his way to projection.

‘Not done yet?’ he said, somewhat smugly.

‘Just on the 3D checks. Then I’ll do the sound EQ.’

‘You don’t EQ every time, do you?’

‘Not necessarily, but I’ll check the curve, so I’ve still got to get the microphone set up.’

Greg shook his head. ‘No point. You’ve got the files on your laptop. Just upload them again. That’ll correct any drift.’

‘It won’t tell me if an HF driver’s blown, will it?’

‘Someone’ll complain if that’s the case.’

‘It’s not how I do it.’

Greg smiled. ‘Well, that’s why you’re slow, then.’

Craig carried on. He finished the service in forty minutes as he’d needed to re-crop the scope files and make some adjustments to the EQ as well. When he’d done, he found Greg half way through screen three. ‘Want me to start on four?’

‘Might as well. I’ve got some training to do with the staff at nine, so you can carry on plodding.’

‘Didn’t anyone ever tell you the story of the hare and the tortoise?’

Greg looked at him in puzzlement. ‘What’s that got to do with anything?’

‘I’ll tell you later. Better not stop now.’

He did though. Next time he was in an auditorium, he rang Mike. ‘As suspected, he takes lots of shortcuts. I’m going to confront him with it later.’

‘Don’t be too hasty.’

‘Since when were you on Greg’s side?’

‘I’m not,’ Mike said. ‘Just I’ve heard rumours they’ll be taking on a couple more engineers and one of us eight will be made supervisor. Guess who?’

‘Not Greg?’

‘Bingo.’

‘That’s crazy, if he’s not doing the job properly.’

‘Yes, but all his trackers are updated on time. And he gets the training done.’

‘I think that’s what he’s up to now, while I do his real work.’ Craig thought he might take a look when he went back to projection.

‘There you go, then. Be careful. Otherwise you might be out the door. Then who would I moan to all the time?’

He found the left stage channel had failed in screen four due to the connections having been pulled out of the speaker on stage. It was common enough; the people who changed the rodent bait traps behind the screens weren’t always the most careful, but it made him wonder how long it had been like that.

He went back upstairs to find three people seated around Greg. He was quizzing them on lamp changing.

‘Want to do a practical?’ Craig asked. ‘I was just about to check the lamp house in screen five.’

‘Could we?’ one of them said. ‘I’m not really confident with those lamps. Don’t they explode?’

‘Only if you drop them,’ Craig quipped. ‘Or if you open the lamp house before they’ve cooled.’

‘Yes, and all of that’s in the training manual. You have all filled in the worksheets, haven’t you?’ Greg interrupted.

‘Well, yes.’ The same youngster spoke. ‘But I’d rather get some practice before I have to do it for real.’

‘Come on, then,’ Craig said. ‘Find yourself a face shield and one of those protective jackets.’

They seemed to enjoy his training session. After they’d gone, Greg came over with his laptop. ‘You want to sign them off for that, seeing as you did the training.’ He sounded slightly sour.

‘If you like. Does it matter? They know what they’re doing now.’

Greg looked at him. ‘I want your name on it so if one of them gets injured it’s not down to me.’

‘They could get injured without it being anyone’s fault. If they’re in a hurry and they trip carrying the lamp. If they fall off the steps in those screens where the projector’s on a plinth…’

‘All right, all right. It’s just you didn’t do it exactly the way it’s written in here.’ He waved his copy of the training manual.

‘Really? And who wrote that?’

‘I did.’

It figured. ‘Actually, while we’re talking, I just wanted to ask you a few things. About the way you’re doing these services.’ Mike had warned him, but what the hell. ‘On the document, you’re signing your name to say you’ve checked the EQ in each screen.’

‘So?’

‘But you aren’t. And you’re supposed to check the colour gamut, but you didn’t even get your light meter out of the car.’

‘I’ve got an app on my phone.’

‘And that’s properly calibrated? I mean, smartphones are pretty good these days, but is it really as accurate as a piece of kit that costs four times as much?’

‘It’s quicker.’ He sounded defensive.

‘Maybe I’ll suggest to Richard we could all save the company loads of money by not bothering with the light meters any more.’ Craig knew he shouldn’t, but he was enjoying this. ‘Maybe we can all just download that app instead.’ He was on a roll now. ‘I’ll never check a screen as fast as you do. And you know what? I don’t want to. Anything I sign off has been done properly.’

Greg didn’t say anything for a while, then his CPU must have kicked into action. ‘You’re no tortoise,’ he said. ‘You’re a dinosaur. And like them, you’ll soon be extinct.’

They didn’t talk much after that. Craig had the satisfaction of knowing the screens he’d checked had been done to his own exacting standards. Not that it seemed to matter these days. He left the site at one, leaving Greg there playing with macros on the server while talking on his phone again. He glared as Craig walked past. Probably telling all his mates in head office about the bolshy old engineer he’d been working with.

The feeling of triumph he’d had after confronting Greg had long dissipated by the time he got home. Perhaps he’d just driven the final nail into the coffin of his career? Oddly, it didn’t feel as upsetting as it might have done just a few weeks previously. If no one cared any more, why should he?

He rang James at eight; their customary time. He’d expected to hear the radio playing softly in the background, or just the comfortable quiet of the cottage, but when James picked up, the noise around him indicated he must be out somewhere. ‘Gone clubbing tonight?’ Craig asked.

‘No, just down at the Green Dragon. Pub quiz night. Archie asked me to join his team.’

Craig bet he had. ‘Oh. Well, I won’t keep you, then. I’m surprised you can hear anything.’

‘It’s a bit noisy. How was your day?’

‘Oh, you know. Same old, same old.’ He’d wanted to talk to James about what had happened, but it was clear that wasn’t an option. ‘Speak to you tomorrow.’

‘Great. I should be at home then. Oops. Better go. We have to turn off our phones now so no one can cheat.’

‘Bye.’ Craig felt utterly alone when he ended the call. It was absurd, really. Two weeks ago, he’d not have had anyone to talk to about the events of the day. But back then, he’d probably not have said what he did to Greg. Thought it, yes, and complained on the phone to Mike or the other two, but he wouldn’t have rocked the boat. All of a sudden, he felt a stab of panic. What if he got made redundant and James was no longer interested. What the hell would he do then?

He didn’t sleep well that night. All though the next day, he worried. Unnecessarily, as it turned out. James rang him at around seven-thirty. ‘Sorry about last night. It was a spur of the moment thing. They usually send a team from the farm, but Billy got crushed by a cow.’

That sounded serious. ‘Is he all right?’

‘Couple of cracked ribs. Anyway, that’s why Archie asked me. Plus he’s coming over to help clear the ground for the cabin later in the week.’

‘Exciting times.’

‘Definitely. So, anything happened at work?’

‘Well, I may just have contributed to my own demise.’ Telling James the story made him realise how trivial it seemed.

‘I doubt they can get rid of you for telling someone he’s not doing his job properly. Especially when he isn’t. Anyway, didn’t you want to get made redundant?’

‘Well, yes. Sort of.’

‘I wouldn’t worry about it…’

Craig’s phone made the noise that told him he had a call waiting. The OC. ‘I’ll have to go. I’m on emergencies from tomorrow and they’re calling me already.’

‘Sure. I’ll let you get on.’

By the time he got off the phone, he had his first job lined up; a sound fault at one of Greg’s sites. Typical. He made his usual preparations; packed an overnight bag with enough clothes for two days, just in case. He’d already stocked up the car with snacks and water. He got to bed early, as always when he didn’t know how long his next working day might be.

The sound fault turned out to be a blown bass driver. He ordered one to be sent from the spares department, then as he was already on site, checked the EQ in a couple of other screens. They were all exactly the same, despite the auditoriums being different sizes, shapes and one having a split surround system. He guessed how that had come about. Having EQ’d one screen, Greg must have just copied the settings to the next. He managed to get them properly done before the OC called again and made sure to enter the work completed on the tracker. That’d show them.

He arranged to go in the following morning to replace the driver, then after driving just sixty miles to his next job, doubled back to check in to the local Deluxe Inn.

As the lift took him to his third floor room, he wondered what picture would be on the wall this time. He paused before slotting the card into the lock. Blue lollipop trees, he decided. If he was right, he’d have an easy day and get home at a reasonable time tomorrow night. He opened the door. Attack chrysanthemums again. Damn!