Christian Jungersen - The Exception

‘Yes?’

She mumbles about the German human-rights conference, but after a few minutes she gets to the point: ‘I’m not sure if you heard, but … did you know that Anne-Lise had a kind of breakdown yesterday, here in the office?’

‘No, I did not!’

Malene tells him what happened. She adds that it’s time they all sat down together, so that everyone can express their views.

Paul sits up. ‘You’re right, Malene. Good of you to tell me.’

‘When do you think we should meet?’

‘Now. We need to nip this in the bud straight away.’

Malene goes to tell the others. On her way to the library she reflects that to behave in the way she has is surely part of being mature. A colleague has thrown wild accusations in your face and, as likely as not, sent you threatening hate-mail. You overcome your dislike and invite her to talk about moving on and working together. Could anything be more constructive?

Anne-Lise sits behind piles of books stacked on her desk. In here, the books absorb the light and it always seems darker than the Winter Garden, even though there are the same number of lamps and windows in both rooms.

‘Anne-Lise, Paul would like to see us all in his room, right now.’

Malene doesn’t smile; nor does Anne-Lise.

‘I’m coming.’

Seated at the small conference table in Paul’s room, they begin their meeting. It is orderly, without the emotional undercurrents of the day before. Soberly they go through what has happened and what they ought to do in the future. Everyone is very accommodating. Iben even apologises to Anne-Lise.

‘Anne-Lise, we may not have paid enough attention to you. We’ll do our best to make it up to you, now that we know that you don’t like working alone as much as you’ve been doing.’

‘It upsets me to think that you’ve been feeling miserable all this time,’ Camilla adds. ‘You should’ve told us ages ago. Nobody has to put up with feeling like that. We should all enjoy coming to work here.’

Anne-Lise looks, wide-eyed, from one to the other.

Paul seems pleased. After a surprisingly short time, he sums up: ‘It’s so easy to misjudge one another, isn’t it? I’m afraid I have to accept my share of the responsibility. We ought to talk together more often about how we work as a team, like we’re doing now.’

He turns to Anne-Lise. ‘Do you think that the others were harassing you?’

When she speaks, her voice sounds thick and she keeps clearing her throat. ‘No … no, I don’t.’

‘So you were simply thrown off balance? It was all a misunderstanding?’

‘Yes.’

‘Good. Then it’s settled!’

Paul’s voice sounds as if he’s been dealt a winning hand at cards. Slowly, he looks around the table, making eye contact with each of the women.

Then he speaks directly to Anne-Lise again: ‘But you do feel you’re on your own too much in the library?’

‘Yes.’

‘And you’d like more contact with the library users?’

‘Yes.’

He takes a large sip of coffee.

‘What about the rest of you? Now that we’re talking about what we want from each other — what do you want from Anne-Lise?’

Iben replies first. ‘Anne-Lise, you must make it clear what your needs are. More than you have done so far.’ She looks around at the others. ‘If Anne-Lise doesn’t tell us, we have nothing to go by.’

‘Obviously. Anne-Lise, will you do that?’

‘Yes.’

Paul smiles delightedly at everybody. ‘Good! I’m sure we’ve all learned something today. Let’s shake hands on it, and promise that we’ll do whatever we can to create a better working atmosphere.’

Awkwardly, hands reach out between the coffee mugs on the table.

Paul continues to speak as he gets up to go: ‘From now on the door between the large office and the library will always be left open. And all user enquiries about books and other library matters will immediately be passed on to Anne-Lise. There, we’ve done it. Fantastic!’

‘ Hold it! ’

Paul, we haven’t agreed to anything of the sort!’

‘It’s impossible to carve up user contacts like that!’

‘I won’t sit in a draught!’

‘You can’t decide just like that!’

Paul is forced to sit down again. He tries to smile, but he is impatient.

Iben has been pushing her coffee cup around with small circular movements. Then she sits up and looks over at Camilla.

‘Camilla, I’ve thought of a solution, but it’s up to you to say if you think it will work. Of course you mustn’t sit somewhere that might make you ill. But what if we moved your desk so that it wasn’t in the path of any draughts from the door?’

‘I suppose …’

Malene takes over now — in fact, she and Iben had worked this out earlier, when they were alone in the copier room: ‘It is more practical for you to sit close to Paul’s door, but it won’t make a huge difference if you don’t. Besides, he isn’t in a lot of the time.’

‘No …’ Camilla sounds vague, looks distant.

Malene tries to sweeten the pill: ‘What if we moved your desk closer to ours? After all, you speak to us more than to Paul. It would be nice.’ Malene glances anxiously at Iben. They haven’t discussed this.

Iben appears to agree, but doesn’t like it. The exchange is so quick that no one else notices.

Iben smiles. ‘Sure, it would be great if you sat closer to us. And we’ve never felt any draughts over where we are.’

Camilla now looks quite pleased, if somewhat confused. The matter is resolved. Camilla’s desk will be moved next to Iben and Malene’s, and the library door will be kept open.

Once more Paul is ready to end the meeting.

Malene speaks up quickly. ‘Paul, one more thing. About the user contacts and the library!’

He looks mildly irritated. ‘What about it?’

‘It’s critical that the DCGI provides the best possible service. We must organise our office with that goal in mind. After all, we’re here to adjust to the users’ needs, not the other way round.’

Paul mutters approvingly and Malene continues: ‘Clients don’t like being shunted around to a different member of staff every time they want to ask another question.’

‘But it happens.’

‘Ideally, it shouldn’t, unless the established contact can’t provide an answer. Think of a financial institution. The bank or firm sees to it that the same person always deals with the same clients. The experts aren’t consulted unless the assigned adviser can’t deal with whatever the question is.’

Malene stops for a moment and looks around the table. ‘We need to give our clients the best possible service we can. Besides, one of Anne-Lise’s demands has already been met.’

Iben backs her up. ‘I agree with Malene.’

Camilla follows her lead. ‘So do I.’

One of Malene’s hands feels itchy and she scratches it. ‘Think about it,’ she says. ‘If Anne-Lise suddenly takes over part of my work, everyone outside the Centre will think that somehow I’ve failed to cope. It’s the only conclusion they could possibly draw.’

Paul takes the initiative. ‘Malene, nobody is in any doubt that you’re good at your job. Of course you’re able to handle library queries perfectly well. Truly, you’re a real asset to the Centre and we all value your work here. That was never an issue.’

Anne-Lise says nothing.

Malene steals a glance at Anne-Lise’s hands. Are they trembling, like yesterday? No, they’re not. She tries to establish eye contact with Anne-Lise.

‘Anne-Lise, surely leaving the door open to your place will make a huge difference, don’t you think?’

Anne-Lise hesitates for what seems a long time. ‘I suppose so,’ she says, her voice still husky.