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A TONSORIAL TALE.
Prior to this convenient service, there had been an informal ‘salon’ within the Full Scale Layout (FSL) Department. The proprietor of this tonsorial facility, Jim Pope, was the FSL factotum, responsible for maintenance of the toilets and controller of the boiler room with a store room for cleaning materials, toilet rolls and the like. The layout from the entrance door was a small vestibule, through a second door to the store room / hair dressing salon and through a third door to the boiler room. |
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The FSL departmental head was William (Bill) Barnet; a close collaborator of H W (Mickey) Dunn; the master of all he surveyed. Respected and feared if guilt was present in the beholders mind! The FSL manager supporting WB was super efficient; on the ball and willing to walk on glass to further the cause of FSL and please Bill.
There were golden rules when the salon was operating; unanswered knocks at the outer door indicated that Jim was probably up at the main stores collecting clean towels or toilet rolls – come back in half an hour! The scene is now set. Halfway through my tonsorial trim there came a rattle and a knock on the door. My pulse quickened – Jim stayed calm; then a louder persistent knock. Jim with a questioning expletive went through the partially open door into the annex, turned the key in the lock and opened the door a nominal inch through which came the manager’s voice. “Can Mr Barnet come and feel the hot water pipes?” (Apparently the system had been causing problems). “NO” said Jim shutting and relocking the door in his face. Like a drowning man my life flashed before me. I was trapped, surrounded by hair with a sheet tucked into my collar. There was no room under the chair and the high window with narrow upper opening portion and a fair drop outside was impossible. Visions of confrontation; being sent for by H W Dunn’s secretary; my wife, the children and a mortgage all in jeopardy and no straw to clutch in mitigation! All however remained silent and my relief was profound when Jim returned. Jim’s indignation was also profound but the moment of truth still remained. What might happen when I opened the outer door! Would WB be standing up, looking over the frosted glass of his office or had he detailed the office manager to identify the miscreant and report back. Opening the door and stepping out, the coast was clear – all quiet on the FSL front – well almost. One or two ‘friends’ working close by the door had seen what had happened. I think their tears had more to do with inner mirth that red faces denoted. I didn’t loiter or exchange repartee. Not a word came back, but my realisation that in these circumstances WB and the manager were being compromised, signalled the end of my salon visits. Doug Holdaway Confession, it is said, is good for the soul
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In the early days of Britannia, following the cancellation of the BRABAZON contract, and pressures to produce manufacturing; getting ones haircut became a problem. Eventually the company opened a ‘salon’ in one of the Fairlawn cottages.
The clientele of the salon included the chief draughtsman and I had, (on the fateful day) occupied the chair for a short back and sides. Jim had been an Elder & Fyffe Banana boat steward, caring for the passengers seeking the winter sunshine, among who had been Sir George White. For Jim’s services Sir George had found him a shore job in the company. There were several such employees. Jim also had a third string to his bow; he took the odd bet for some local bookmaker!