settled themselves.
‘ Right , sorry about that, everyone got a seat? Badge? Great. Hi! Nice to meet you all, I’m Cleo Callaway.’ She pointed to her badge. ‘Together, today, we’re going to look at how we need to excel at interpersonal communication in order to succeed, to cheat time and achieve results by effective, focused communication.’ As she spoke she looked around the room, making eye contact, assessing her audience. They were youngish and dress code was casual, which made her, in black skirt and burnt-orange jacket, stand out.
Though she’d done her homework and knew what Rockley Image did, she liked to break the ice and get everyone vocal before they got used to being silent. ‘Can you remind me what Rockley Image provides for its clients … oh!’ It was very nearly, ‘Oh shit !’ Because her visual check had progressed to the back row.
And the last person in the back row, slouched in the chair, polo shirt buttoned to the neck, deck shoes sticking out between the chairs in front, was Justin.
Horror swept the colour from her face.
By the delight in his eyes he’d been waiting to be noticed and was hugely amused now that he had been. With elaborate co-operation he answered, ‘Corporate logos, stationery, leaflets, brochures ...’
Other voices contributed, ‘… product graphics, multi-media and web design ...’
‘… posters, banners, design and print.’
‘Great,’ she said, weakly, trying to recapture her stride. ‘You shouldn’t have any trouble with the bit of drawing required for our first activity.’ She swallowed and made an effort to put some beef back in her voice. She smiled determinedly at two people in the front of the group – the ones who risked sitting at the front weren’t normally worried about being picked on. ‘Could you be the first to come out here and help me? The challenge is for one person to describe a simple design of shapes and lines and the other to draw it from only the description.’
Cleo used this ice-breaker regularly; the sometimes outlandish results were always good for a laugh. Positioning a woman called Bernadette to face a gangly, thinning man named Ian, she outlined the rules. ‘No peeking, no repetition and no gestures! If you’re good at Pictionary – well, this is the reverse. You have two minutes.’
Bernadette flourished her thick black marker pen and started drawing eagerly the instant Ian began, ‘Draw a circle, then a zig-zag … oh, that should be coming from the bottom. Under them draw a triangle …’
Bernadette looked crestfallen. ‘I’ve run out of space.’
‘You should’ve let me finish before you crashed on!’ Ian slouched back to his seat as his co-workers grinned at his lack of success. Cleo broke through the sniggers to select Holly, a pretty, pink-faced girl from the centre at the back – it was always as well to involve those at the rear before they got the idea that they could get away without doing any work. ‘Could you be our flip chart artist? I’ll give each person a different diagram to describe in turn. You just do the drawing.’ When Cleo turned back after passing out the papers, she realised that Holly was heavily pregnant.
She paused. Morning-after pills and intrauterine devices flashed into her mind. Sod it. Because of George’s heart attack, she’d never made an appointment with her doctor. Her concentration was wavering enough with Justin smirking at her, and she felt hot and fatigued. She forced a smile. ‘Are you OK to stand up and do this?’
‘Yeah, yeah.’ Holly rubbed her belly through her denim dress. ‘Safe for a while yet.’
Ignoring the film of sweat that had burst out on her cheeks, Cleo turned back to the group. ‘OK, we’ll work to time limits to keep things moving. Could you begin?’ She pointed at a thin, dark man. He began uneasily. ‘Draw a circle ... no, no, wait, about halfway up the page! Draw three parallel lines … oh, I meant vertical …’ By the time a
‘ Right , sorry about that, everyone got a seat? Badge? Great. Hi! Nice to meet you all, I’m Cleo Callaway.’ She pointed to her badge. ‘Together, today, we’re going to look at how we need to excel at interpersonal communication in order to succeed, to cheat time and achieve results by effective, focused communication.’ As she spoke she looked around the room, making eye contact, assessing her audience. They were youngish and dress code was casual, which made her, in black skirt and burnt-orange jacket, stand out.
Though she’d done her homework and knew what Rockley Image did, she liked to break the ice and get everyone vocal before they got used to being silent. ‘Can you remind me what Rockley Image provides for its clients … oh!’ It was very nearly, ‘Oh shit !’ Because her visual check had progressed to the back row.
And the last person in the back row, slouched in the chair, polo shirt buttoned to the neck, deck shoes sticking out between the chairs in front, was Justin.
Horror swept the colour from her face.
By the delight in his eyes he’d been waiting to be noticed and was hugely amused now that he had been. With elaborate co-operation he answered, ‘Corporate logos, stationery, leaflets, brochures ...’
Other voices contributed, ‘… product graphics, multi-media and web design ...’
‘… posters, banners, design and print.’
‘Great,’ she said, weakly, trying to recapture her stride. ‘You shouldn’t have any trouble with the bit of drawing required for our first activity.’ She swallowed and made an effort to put some beef back in her voice. She smiled determinedly at two people in the front of the group – the ones who risked sitting at the front weren’t normally worried about being picked on. ‘Could you be the first to come out here and help me? The challenge is for one person to describe a simple design of shapes and lines and the other to draw it from only the description.’
Cleo used this ice-breaker regularly; the sometimes outlandish results were always good for a laugh. Positioning a woman called Bernadette to face a gangly, thinning man named Ian, she outlined the rules. ‘No peeking, no repetition and no gestures! If you’re good at Pictionary – well, this is the reverse. You have two minutes.’
Bernadette flourished her thick black marker pen and started drawing eagerly the instant Ian began, ‘Draw a circle, then a zig-zag … oh, that should be coming from the bottom. Under them draw a triangle …’
Bernadette looked crestfallen. ‘I’ve run out of space.’
‘You should’ve let me finish before you crashed on!’ Ian slouched back to his seat as his co-workers grinned at his lack of success. Cleo broke through the sniggers to select Holly, a pretty, pink-faced girl from the centre at the back – it was always as well to involve those at the rear before they got the idea that they could get away without doing any work. ‘Could you be our flip chart artist? I’ll give each person a different diagram to describe in turn. You just do the drawing.’ When Cleo turned back after passing out the papers, she realised that Holly was heavily pregnant.
She paused. Morning-after pills and intrauterine devices flashed into her mind. Sod it. Because of George’s heart attack, she’d never made an appointment with her doctor. Her concentration was wavering enough with Justin smirking at her, and she felt hot and fatigued. She forced a smile. ‘Are you OK to stand up and do this?’
‘Yeah, yeah.’ Holly rubbed her belly through her denim dress. ‘Safe for a while yet.’
Ignoring the film of sweat that had burst out on her cheeks, Cleo turned back to the group. ‘OK, we’ll work to time limits to keep things moving. Could you begin?’ She pointed at a thin, dark man. He began uneasily. ‘Draw a circle ... no, no, wait, about halfway up the page! Draw three parallel lines … oh, I meant vertical …’ By the time a
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