It took me a whole week to be brave enough to request a meeting with the Director about Bernadette. Finally I spoke to his PA and arranged an appointment. I'd never complained before. Yet, I was tired of putting up with Bernadette's behaviour towards me. Enough was enough. I was a professional. It was time to be treated with respect. I had four years' experience now.
Mr Abiv kept me waiting for almost half an hour outside his office. When he finally invited me in, he gestured to the leather chair opposite his desk. His name is officious navy blue.
'Sylvie,' he says. 'What is it?'
'It's Bernadette. She is constantly undermining everything I do with my group.'
'In what way?'
'She's critical of my approach.'
'What happened?'
'She puts me down in front of everyone. It's humiliating.'
I resent the whine in my voice. I'd come here hoping to be assertive, yet I was aware that I sounded like a whinging child. All of a sudden, I can't think of one example where Bernadette has undermined or humiliated me, although I know strongly that it's happened on a number of occassions. Mr Abiv picks a pen up and taps it on his desk. I can tell he's losing his patience.
'Have you spoken to Dr Reynolds about this?' he asks.
'Yes.'
'What does he say?'
'Not much.'
'Sylvie, if you are going to put in a complaint about one of our staff, you have to be very concise about what the problem is. Bernadette has been here for a long time and is a very experienced professional. Have you spoken to her team leader as yet?'
'No,' I say, my eyes on the back of Mr Abiv's zaplet screen. I wonder if he'll write notes about me afterwards.
'There's usually a process,' Mr Abiv explained. 'First you should speak to Bernadette's team leader and then if they can't manage the situation, the team leader will come to me. It's very unusual for someone to come directly to me with a complaint. I look after high-level operational issues, and really this doesn't seem to be the kind of thing that needs to come to me. Surely it can be dealt with at the team leader level?'
'Sorry,' I say, rubbing my forefinger against my thumb. 'Sorry, I didn't know the process.
'Well, now you do. You should get on with it. And really, you should wonder if you should complain about anything at all. Really?'
I narrow my eyes. This room seems to be too warm and grey and dismal. The Venetian blinds are too dark, the desk too large for the room, and there's too much clutter, does he not file anything ever? How can he look after 'high-level operational issues' when he can't tidy his desk?
'I just wanted you to know,' I say, giving it one last go. 'You need to keep an eye on her. I'm sure I'm not the only one she's doing this to. She's a bossy boots. It's uncomfortable and demeaning in a professional situation.'
He puts the pen down and unrolls one shirt cuff.
'Okay,' he says. 'Thank you for letting me know. Is that all today?'
I nod feebly, and standing up, say 'Thank you for your time. Sorry.' I apologise again.