Return of the chinless star

Peregrine saved from the jaws of RILF ... Partners' ambitions upset ... A scramble to realign ... Wounds healed by flattery ... All is forgiven ... Dorothy on the paradigm of partnership politics

To recap: last week, Peregrine, a lustrous, if somewhat chinless, star in the firmament of our firm, announced his defection to RILF (Rapacious International Law Firm). 

Ivan (our practice head) dealt with that in the time honoured way by bagging Perry at the next partners' lunch, pronouncing him a bullier of staff and a nincompoop, despite the fact that he is rated No. 1 in Legal Directory. 

Incontrovertible proof of nincompooposity came from Peregrine's colleague and partner Smith, who had spread widely his disgust with an article Perry had been commissioned to write for the AFR. Now read on ...

George may be mild mannered, but he hides within a man of determined jaw and, figuratively speaking at least, large pectoral muscles.

"This is fucked," he said after the lunch at which the demise of Peregrine was discussed.

I agreed, but heard nothing more for several days when George rang me.

"You have to ring Peregrine and ask him for coffee," he said.

"Really?" I said. Peregrine's lustrous glow had been obliterated since he had announced his departure to RILF.

Anyway, I limit my dealings with people who tell me how wonderful they are to one a week. I have to reserve that spot for clients, mostly.

"Yes. I think we can convince him to stay."

There may have been a brief silence while I envisioned myself kneeling at Peregrine's throne while he stared imperiously ahead, draped in ermine, orb in hand.

George got cross. "Ring him now - please," he added, and hung-up.

Which is how I found myself having a coffee with Peregrine.

Now I may have made some unkind personal remarks about Perry, and his dearth of chin. For the sake of balance, I should say that I have never been pursued by a talent scout wanting me to model for Vogue.

"Sorry to hear you are leaving," I ventured.

"Well," said Peregrine, sitting back, short plump legs crossed in his Italian cashmere pin-striped trousers, "difficult to knorck beck an orffer laike thet".

I think that, when Peregrine was a school boy, his peers may have taken him behind the toilet block for a good beshing.

"It will be a loss for us," I ventured.

Peregrine uncrossed his legs and leaned forward, his soft jowls a little pinker than usual. "Sarmtaimes," he said conspiratorially, "it is important to velue what one hes".

"Yes," I said, "we are not good at valuing people. Better at tearing them down."

Peregrine relaxed a little, and so did his accent.

"I just got thoroughly fed up with Smith telling everyone I am in idiot and Ivan instructing me to hand my files over to Smith [said with a tone of disgust] for 'peer review and support'."

This warranted a special Dorothy investigation.

"So tell me about the article you wrote for AFR."

"Oh thet," said Peregrine.

Let me use an analogy to describe what he told me: if everyone had hitherto thought the earth was flat, Peregrine's article espoused the view that, while not exactly round, the earth might be a bit curved.

I had one of those "of course" moments, when the lights turned on.

Maybe Perry isn't a pompous twit after all. Pompous maybe, but not a twit.

But I could also see the issue. Smith is an opportunist with a very pedestrian brain. Telling him the earth might be curved would have caused in him a mixture of panic and elation.

The panic - that the world is not as he thought - would have been shortlived, because Smith quickly discounts any idea which defies convention.

The elation would stay because Smith equates a novel idea with a sign of weirdness, a sign of weirdness as a sign of failure, and the failure of another as an opportunity for Smith.

"Smith probably needed the work," I said.

"No doubt," said Peregrine drily.

I decided not to investigate the allegation of bullying. Peregrine was looking depressed enough.

"Well" I said. "Here is what we think of you and why we think you should stay." 

Although I did not use the phrases "lustrous adornment" or "starry firmament", that was the general gist of it.

"You were spawned here," I said, "and here you should stay, with the people you were brought up with."

I finished off with some remarks about Smith and Ivan, the firmaments they are generally thought to frequent and in what murky swamp they were spawned.

Perry looked like a bullied kid who suddenly and unexpectedly finds he might be the popular one in the class.

George lined-up a lot of coffees for Peregrine this week. Perry got so high on caffeine and love he was like a small caged furry animal frenetically engaged with a cornucopia of furry friends.

George then had a quiet word with Smith then Ivan. Smith looked even paler than usual. Ivan did the goofy grin.

This morning, we had our little partners' catch up meeting.

Ivan said, "We have had some discussions with Peregrine, and I am happy to say that we have convinced Peregrine to stay. That is a great outcome for the firm".

Amidst a chorus of cheerful little grunty noises from around the table Fred said, "excellent outcome. Great news Perry and congratulations Ivan on a job well done".

Ivan has no qualms accepting a compliment he does not deserve.

"Not too difficult was it Perry? RILF would be a horrible place. All those poms. Worse than people from Melbourne."

George crossed his arms and dropped his head back to examine the ceiling tiles.

Peregrine smiled graciously. "Gled to be home," he said.

For a moment, in the early morning light, I almost detected a chin.

Dorothy