Where the Rain Gets In Read Online Free Page A

preferred to start her day with a
review of the newspapers, the company weren’t about to lose her over something
so trivial.
    (Katie likened it to all the top
management gurus agreeing that a few minutes’ meditation in the workplace
produced measurable results. Very few managers could tolerate the sight of an
employee just sat at their desk, apparently doing nothing. As though the
employee should put up a sign – ‘meditating, now fuck off!’)
    Newspapers helped Katie to manage other
people’s money, but they also kept her sharp as a person; she was never short
of something to talk about, either professionally or socially. And there were
so many different types of news – the broadsheets, the tabloids, plus the TV
screens outside in the main office, and there was Carmel, a compulsive listener
to the radio and a constant source of information. Katie loved it all, loved it
all in itself and not just for its application to her job.
    This ability to soak up and analyse
information from so many different sources was part of what made Katie such a
good account manager. She thought very little about buying stock as she read
through the papers. She wasn’t certain there was a direct relationship between
the two, but, if she didn’t know at least something of what was happening in
the world, she would have been less able to make the decisions she took on a
daily basis. She also knew that an hour rarely made that much difference to the
financial markets; there was always plenty of time for studying figures on a
computer screen. Katie made her name by saying it was okay to do nothing if
that was what the markets required; when the markets demanded it, the
newspapers were dumped immediately.
    The crazy thing was that soon everybody
who reported directly to Katie thought it best to conscientiously study the
papers each morning. It was weird to come out her office for a coffee break and
find a floor full of bankers with newspapers spread out on their desks. So much
so, she had to persuade them this wasn’t absolutely necessary.
    “If you want to read the papers, you
can,” she said. “But if you don’t feel the need, don’t just do it for the sake
of it.”
    Organizations, she thought, and the
people in them.
    When asked how she consistently achieved
such good results – whether by her superiors, her colleagues or, occasionally,
the press – she had one piece of advice: always buy under-valued stock. It was
simple, too simple for some people, but it was the one thing she insisted upon
amongst her own team.
    “Never forget this is someone else’s
money – it doesn’t even belong to the bank. We’re gambling with other people’s
money, but you should behave as though it were your own. The bank pays you
money to make more money with other people’s money; if you do that then
everybody will be happy.”
    Of course this wasn’t the whole story
but it was as good a basis as any for a young trader to start out on. Katie’s
department was traditionally the company’s training ground for new employees.
She much preferred a team of raw recruits to the older, more experienced hands;
it was fun and it kept Katie on her toes.
    Soon after ten each day, Katie took her
coffee break with Carmel in the staff canteen. This was her real breakfast
time, her favourite meal of the day, and nothing – nothing! – came between
Katie and her coffee. She walked through and made a silent drinking-from-a-cup
gesture to Carmel.
    Carmel was on the phone, as usual. She
took the receiver away from her ear and pointed at the mouthpiece.
    “What?” asked Katie.
    Carmel covered the receiver with her
hand.
    “It’s him,” she said. “He’s still on the
line.”
    “Who?”
    Carmel spoke into the phone.
    “I’m just putting you on hold again,”
she said, and pressed a button on the phone. “The guy from before – he wouldn’t
hang up; said he preferred to wait. This guy really wants to speak to you.”
    “That was over an hour