(66) 'The Wrath Of A Grandmother'

[Ken]

This is a memory that involves the dismissing of a staff member and it always amuses me, for it shows that the aftermath of such an event can have unforeseen consequences.  It tells of two people I was forced to sack, owing to their tendency to borrow money from my tills.  In other words they were caught thieving!

I am not going to name these once trusted colleague for decades have passed, and they have probably turned into upright and honest citizens.  They may have become Estate Agents, Bankers or even Journalist's and be admired by all who know them.  Or they may still be low life tea leaves who just can't be trusted.  One of these nameless people, who I caught red handed with his hand in the till, was just two weeks away from getting married.  I had no wish to destroy his life or hurt his lovely wife to be, so I told him to hand in his notice and leave straight away.  I took steps to cover myself legally but did not involve the police.  The young fellow, who'd been shaking with fright, thanked me profusely for being lenient and shook my hand with relief and gratitude as he left.  That's where my knowledge of the affair should have ended and would have, but for a later conversation between his grandmother and her village postman.

The second of these nameless people, concerned one of the few members of staff I didn't employ.  Later I was to insist on the final decision of all employees, save Saturday staff, but this one was taken on by my colleague Tim Stoop.  Within weeks it became obvious that he was stealing and so I visited the branch concerned.  That was the first and last time I ever saw him for visually he looked like a a rogue.  He had a furtive demeanour that was completely unsuitable for the job and should never have been employed.  His ejection from my company was swift and that should have been the end of the matter, but for a chance meeting between this chaps grandmother and Tim Stoop, it would have been.  That meeting became the stuff of staff legend, proof that there's a right way and a wrong way to handle a confrontation with an angry grandmother.  Tim's way was the wrong way, for despite his many advantages in life he had one that on this occasion worked against him. That was the plummy voice, that through no fault of his he had acquired during his expensive Public School education.  It pigeon holed him instantly as a toff.  

His voice, which was deep and authoritative, almost always worked in his favour but on this occasion it didn't.  It was his misfortune that he was visiting the branch at the same time as the grandmother of the recently dismissed young man.  She was, I'm told, a rather rough sort who we came to know was somewhat of a toff hater.  She asked to speak to the manager but Tim took over when the reason for her visit was explained.  When Tim phoned me later that day he said at first glance she looked like a harmless little old lady, needing a walking stick to help her get around.  He added in that plummy voice of his, "The woman was rather a rough sort and had the look of the Gypsy about her."  He went on to explain that she demanded to know why her Grandson had been sacked so he'd told her the truth.  "Madam, your grandson was sacked because he was a thief."  At that point the little old lady began to hit him with her walking stick!  I have no idea how long the attack lasted but, according to those there, it lasted some time.  It quickly became the source of much merriment throughout our company and as the tale grew in the telling, so did the power of Tims booming voice saying, " .... YOUR GRANDSON WAS SACKED BECAUSE HE WAS A THIEF." That was obviously not the way to handle a hurt and vengeful grandmother for it invited trouble.
                                                                                                                                         
Compare that to the way the grandmother involving the postman was handled. Her grandson, now a married man, had obviously told no one the real reason for his losing his job.  He let his relatives know that I'd had made him redundant just two weeks before the wedding.  What a rotten sod Ken Tuffs must be to do such a thing!  My name was forever mud in his grandmothers house and so, perhaps, was the name of her postman.  Could postman Len be a relative she wondered, for she'd just found out his surname was also Tuffs.?  The unsuspecting postman was soon confronted and, when he confirmed we were brothers, she told him what a bar steward I was.  Len told me what happened next and it still amuses me even though it occurred over thirty years ago.  Recognising her anger, and to avoid confrontation, Len defused the situation by agreeing with her.  "We all hate him," said Len, "the whole family hates him," and with those words my brother immediately became the grandmothers new best friend.  Forever more they were united in their shared dislike of that absolute bounder, Ken Tuffs.  Anyone who knows Len well will know how convincing and straight faced he can be when spinning a yarn, so well done brother!  I presume you didn't mean it?

At this point I must say for the record that Tim Stoop was a friend of yesteryear.  He was talented and, as the above story proves, a good sport who could laugh at himself.  In time he ceased to make the sort of cock up described above and in later years I was proud to have him as my partner in a company we formed.  Fortune doesn't always favour the brave and in time we went our separate ways, I hope his life has been as happy as mine.  Tim Stoop, my one time business partner and all round good egg, I wish you well.      
           

[Ken]

This memory tells of the aftermath of two people I was forced to dismiss and of their grandmothers need for revenge.  It's also a story of our families loyalty and of a close relatives ability to think on his feet, thereby averting disaster.