Total breakdown

She had spoken of him before, although McPherson didn’t take much notice as he resented anything to do with her work interfering or intruding upon their lives. They had met for the first time two months back when she had brought him to stay overnight. He had joined the Leicester office from his base in Yorkshire two years previously, and had been failing to drum up much business in his first few months. She had taken him under her wing she said. They had worked on a number of contracts together since then and seemed to get on well. She had suggested he stay over again as they were both delivering a course in Northampton the next day. When McPherson arrived home at six the black seven series was already parked on the drive by the side of the house. She spoke highly of the car and its computer wizardry. He had ignored her comments and resented them as jibes at him about what they didn’t have.

 

He was fifty-two, eighteen years her senior, had been married for thirty years and had two teenage sons. He was an ex public school boy who had ventured into business without great success. He had however not done badly and had bought a lovely home worth over £300,000 that she greatly admired. She had told McPherson the story of him reluctantly putting the house on the market but having overpriced it so that it would be difficult to sell. He didn’t really listen but found that strange. She had spoken with scorn about the wife who refused to go out to work despite the threat that they might lose their luxury home. He had a soft-spoken deep drawl, was thick set, slightly overweight, with greying hair; sort of distinguished. And he smoked. She bought some round tablets of perfumed soap for him. Something she had never done before for guests, although she always took care of people who stayed over. But the soap was unusual.

When dinner was over McPherson cleared the dishes into the dishwasher while they took over the dining room to work on the programme for the next day. He busied himself with the children before settling rather uncomfortably to watch the TV alone. The sound of their banter was disconcerting. When he eventually went to bed he could still hear them in the dinning room. He felt abandoned and felt silly about feeling that way. He was uncomfortable at their closeness but comforted himself in the knowledge that she would be coming to his bed when they had finished work and that he was a lucky man to have Alice. He disliked the guy and would make sure not have him back. He was asleep when she eventually came upstairs. When he went down in the morning, first as usual, he discovered the glasses from which they had consumed the alcohol before retiring for the night. He felt angry that she chose to socialise after leaving him alone all evening. After his exercise, he made drinks for Jane and Jason and three cups of coffee. He let her take the “guest’s” into the spare room.

“It’s just not acceptable Janet. McKay was moved from his post in Adult Psychiatry for good reasons and now you tell me you’re putting him into Arthur Lodge to sort it out. The clinicians won’t have it. I tell you, you are making a rod for your own back” Tanner whined.

 

Brady’s office was spacious, a corner office in the bland functional building with the same good quality but bland furnishings. She had personalised it with high quality desk furniture that had been a gift from her husband on her appointment as Chief Executive and three good watercolours by a local artist from the Nottinghamshire village in which she lived. She looked out over the car park past the meandering tributary that sliced across her line of vision and out to the heath beyond. It was a tranquil view that she rarely had time to appreciate.

The table they sat at was round and stood in the centre of the room.

“OK tell me what I should do Paul. I’ve got Carole McPhail and the Chairman of the Health Authority as well as our Chairman convinced he’s the only one for the job. And although I am as reluctant as you to put him in, I don’t have any alternative. Who else could I put in?” Janet Brady said with resignation.

 

“There must be someone else.” Entreated Sue Weston shuffling her chair back in a fit of pique.

“There isn’t. There is no one with his forensic and management experience….. Don’t worry, I’ll put him in to do the job and when the crisis is over he will go-by fair means or foul. Just leave it to me and tell your clinician colleagues to be patient” Brady reassured.

“What about the present Clinical Director of Arthur Lodge?” asked Weston.

 

“Again I have no alternative. The pressure is on to relieve him of his Director duties. A replacement must be identified. Someone with a national profile and great credibility in the field.” Said Brady, “It’s my job on the line if the lid is not shut on this soon. I intend to ensure that doesn’t happen” she said with determination.

 

“Let me remind you that it is the Division of Psychiatry that appoints Clinical Directors” Warned Tanner.

 

“Paul, don’t come that one. You know these are exceptional circumstances. The Minister is involved, the Regional Director is breathing down my neck and the health authority is snapping at my heals.” Said Brady wearily. “I’ll make sure the change over coincides as closely as possible with his due date for reappointment to avoid any embarrassment. It will look like a natural succession rather than his removal. I’m sorry but that’s the best I can offer” she concluded.

***

The Board was underway. The atmosphere was tense. Thick enough to cut and with the sort of silences between discussion that presses on the eardrums.

 

“We have a serious situation facing us at this time” Maureen Auld emphasised “This is not a time to be faint-hearted; we must do what needs to be done. Jim McKay is the only person we have to put in. This matter is so serious that I am prepared to resign if it is not resolved. Do not loose sight of the fact that there are also indications that things are not well right across the Trust”

 

“Lets stick to the matter being discussed shall we Maureen? The Division has rejected McKay’s appointment outright. There is no way this appointment will be made against their will.” Weston pointed out calmly.

 

The Chairman sat impassively. He wanted to avoid confrontation and any disharmony between his Directors and he knew he was losing control; he was out of his depth again. He tried to pull things back by moving the debate on.

 

“Look this is an operational matter which can be dealt with outside of the meeting, can we move to the next item please” he said with authority.

 

“Chairman!…. She said pausing to attract his full attention. “We cannot move on. This is a most serious matter and it must be resolved here. I want the Boards support to make this change. It is our only option” Auld said forcefully.

 

“The Division is dead set against it so I cannot support the proposal” Weston interjected.

“Then we must put it to the vote Chairman” Suggested Brady, hoping to curtail the debate. She had already ensured those seen as ‘clinically neutral’, like the Director of Human Resources and the Director of Finance, would vote with her. She wanted to have the matter resolved without creating further bad blood between Board members. The non-executive members were a mixed bunch who really did not have a clue over such issues but she had lobbied the most influential of them over the last forty-eight hours and got them to accept her point of view. She hoped by gaining an overwhelming majority that it would make her close allies, the doctors, less likely to blame her for things not going their way.

 

“Ok let’s put it to the vote” the Chairman said gladly sensing that he had control back again. “The proposal is that Jim McKay is appointed as Operational Director of Arthur Lodge-at least for a temporary period. Those in favour…”

 

Three non-executives and four of the five executives voted for the motion. Two non-executives abstained. Sue Weston was the only Board member to vote against the motion. The Chairman breathed a sigh of relief under his breath that he was not called upon to cast his vote. He didn’t want to get between the warring factions. He felt sorry for Maureen for he knew her brave stance was doomed because of the ubiquitous influence of the medics. He knew that it was only a matter of time before Janet Brady moved on or was removed as Chief Executive. He had taken soundings. But so what, the medics would remain and any incoming CEO would have to strike deals with the devils if they wanted to get anywhere. He’d learned that much in his three years as Chairman. It was a no win situation.

 

“Chairman then I must ask that you formally register a protest on my behalf and that of the Division of Psychiatry” she said with resignation.

 

Chairman, if I may?…Brady began, “We also need the Board to agree to a change of Clinical Director at Arthur Lodge”

 

“Chairman I protest” rounded Weston “The Division of Psychiatry is the appointing body for all Clinical Director posts. This Board has no mandate to do so.”

 

“Chairman, Dr Weston and I have discussed this issue” said Brady wearily, “It is an internal, and I must add informal, arrangement that indeed the Division of Psychiatry is allowed to make the appointment of Clinical Directors. Under the circumstances the matter requires an executive decision with the full support of the Board. I must warn the Board that we are under pressure from the Minister and the Regional Director to effect this change.”

 

“This change is so fundamental to getting the major problems at Arthur Lodge sorted that we have to accept it” warned Auld “We have no choice” she said “It is clear the current regime has failed.”

Maureen Auld felt drained. She closed her eyes and stretched out her legs in front of her. Janet Brady took a sip of the black sugarless coffee in the mug she held cupped in her hands.

“Maureen things are coming to a head. The pressure is unbearable and my neck is on the line.” Said Brady. “It’s a serious situation.” She said reflectively. They sat in Maureen’s office, the furthest Directors office from Brady’s own.

“Janet this Trust is facing a major crisis. It’s rotten to the core with pockets of the most awful practice and the lowest standards I have seen for many a year. It’s not all bad of course, but the medics have an awful lot to answer for; particularly in relation to the Care Programme Approach and the underdevelopment of community services.” Auld offered reflectively.

 

“Maureen I need to talk to you about M2 cost reductions” Brady switched tack.

 

“Oh?” Auld said anticipating something she knew she didn’t want to hear.

 

“I think the nursing conference was a great achievement and it has done wonders for the morale of nurses in the trust.” She cooed “However you know the savings I am being forced to make in management costs Maureen, and your department is a prime target. After all it has been cobbled together from displaced senior nurses who would have been made redundant in any case,” she said pointedly.

 

“So how many posts are we talking about? Auld inquired.

 

“I’m sorry Maureen but I intend disbanding your department. It is not viewed as essential and I need some of your staff elsewhere. The remainder will either take voluntary redundancy or they will go down a longer road.,” said Brady.

 

“And how am I supposed to get the job done on my own?” Auld asked with more than a hint of sarcasm.

 

“You managed before and you’ll manage again. I’ll give you all the support I can, you know the situation” said Brady in mock comfort.

***

They had been into town. He disliked shopping and she loved it. Often he would stay home with Jason and get on with housework while she took Jane with her. It seemed the best way to stay on top of things particularly if he was only going to appear miserable and make her upset. She and Jane would enjoy themselves. He swung the car left into the turning point in the 1980s built estate road and reversed so that he ended up parallel to the pavement a few yards away from his front door. He pulled forward in front of their four bedroom detached house. It was a plain and functional house, which they had moved up to using the settlement from his pervious marriage when his son reached eighteen. They had decided to move just before Jason was born so that they had a room for each child and one for Christian, John’s son by his first wife, who visited them once a month. The house had been on the market for two years and often when they passed it she had made a comment. Eventually she had persuaded him to walk down the short drive and to look in through the windows. He decided it might be worth moving here as a stopgap; with his settlement they would not have to increase the mortgage and they could stay in the village, which they both liked. He drove a hard bargain with the estate agent, although he was left feeling that he might have pushed them even further. Over the four years since they moved in from their previous house just round the corner with help from a gaggle of neighbours, they had done little to it and preferred to keep the décor simple. He hated wallpapering, although he didn’t mind painting so much. They had both been so busy this last five years. Alice completing her Masters Degree in Human Resource Management, without breaking sweat and he his Certificate in Management Studies, Diploma in Management Studies and Masters of Business Administration, making very heavy weather of the latter. It was one of his life’s ambitions to get a degree because he had left school with three “O” levels having missed so much schooling because of his asthma and his mother’s polio. It was tough running a family, studying and holding down very demanding jobs.

 

The kids were undoing their seat belts and making quite a din. She looked at him and said

“I’m not happy”

“Don’t be so selfish” he replied turning off the ignition, stripping off his seatbelt and opening the driver’s door before stepping out to open the back door for Jane. They emptied the car and he made lunch for them all. He made Alice a salad taking great care with it and making it as appetising as he could. He cut the tomatoes into florets and arranged the cucumber, lettuce, radish and olives round the plate. He added moppets of rolled ham and some strong West Country cheese. Sometimes he would add nuts. He made a simple dressing of olive oil and wine vinegar for Alice to pour. He loved doing that for her, as he loved keeping the house clean, the garden tidy and looking after the kids for her. But he didn’t feel comfortable with her drive and ambition. There was something cold and determined and at odds with family in it he felt. She never seemed to respect his values and he had mixed feelings, a constant stress between his love and pride in her and his own lack of esteem; always Alice McPherson’s husband. He had compromised his career but Alice seemed to give him the message that her career was more important than family. He was afraid and felt let down at the same time. But he loved her and felt they would survive.

***

The weekly briefing was always a delicate balance between providing accurate information and keeping the lid on things. Ministers after all were transient beings-although the eighteen years of Tory rule had been a longer than usual period. They were not always best placed to make decisions with all the facts, history and knowledge of the culture of the NHS with its unique circumstances. There were those at Richmond House who believed the NHS was best run by civil servants. They made a career out of keeping the Minister and the Commons at bay. They believed they ran a tight ship and kept the lid on most things. Unfortunately the factions within the NHS were also in evidence within Richmond House and the inequalities were just as destructive-if played out with a little more civility and “breeding”.

Arthur Lodge had not been easy to contain. A question on the floor of the house had made damned sure of that. The Ministers advisors were confident that their robust and public condemnation of the situation and their bullish directive to the health authority to undertake an independent review had retrieved the situation. They had made sure that all the broad sheets and the daily “rags” had carried the piece and conveyed the Ministers displeasure and strong action; a good bit of PR. Despite the failure of the Regional Health Authority over many years and the fact that ten health authorities purchased services from Arthur Lodge, the finger had to be pointed and the local “host” health authority; a good piece of PR a good piece of politics.

Sweat streamed down Phil Drake’s forehead and made the smoothness of his shaven head glisten. He always felt nervous and under pressure and he always sweated during briefings. These sessions could make or break a career civil servant and often not to do with performance, but more with the Minister and their moods and the mood of their advisors, in particular the Parliamentary Private Secretary. He had met Virginia Bottomley before she was ‘reshuffled’. He liked her and found her genuinely interested in the NHS. Her background as a psychiatric social worker helped, as did her understanding of the NHS. The others seemed more interested in not fouling up, avoiding bad publicity, keeping the Treasury happy and avoiding conflict in the Cabinet. Roger Freeman seemed to want to know what was going on but he didn’t seem to know what to do once he had the information. With his banking background he seemed more interested in his career and quite absorbed in the more general politics of the Commons and running the country.

 

The new regime was hard to fathom. After so long in the wilderness they didn’t seem as sharp; not quite match fit, but they’d soon learn. Paul Boateng had been a lawyer and he was nobody’s fool. He had also managed to overcome the colour of his skin and get on in both law and politics in his own right.

 

“Mr Drake” he said from behind the sumptuous mahogany desk with its inlaid leather top “This health authority is the only one in the region, in fact the country, to be reporting that they do not currently comply with the Care Programme Approach one hundred percent….am I correct?” he chose his words carefully and deliberately.

 

“Well, yes Minister, but there has to be some question about the accuracy of the reporting from other districts. We have reliable information that demonstrates CPA is not being complied with and I must say there is only one authority in our region that has taken firm steps to put it right. They have never tried to hide the facts from us” Phil replied.

 

“A brave step to come clean on such a failure, don’t you think? Yes from other sources I doubt other authorities are enjoying the success they currently tell us they are. And I don’t think they want us to hear the bad news, particularly over what is regarded as a central plank of policy” he said pointedly. “Now we have the Arthur Lodge situation, worrying, most worrying Mr Drake. Reassure me if you please that things are now under control and there is no need to send in the Task Force? He instructed.

 

“It is fair to say that the health authority has got to grips with the situation. They have some good people on the ground down there. People who know what to look for and who are not afraid to strip off the old wall coverings to inspect the cracks” he said.

 

“I certainly hope so, for your sake Mr Drake and for the sake of us all. Thank you; please make sure that I am kept fully briefed in person. Good day.” He said ending the conversation.

***

Cathy McPhail had enjoyed quite a meteoric rise from humble part-time health visitor to her post as Locality Director and Chief Nursing Advisor to the Authority. The impetus had come from a separation and divorce that left her looking after two school age children. She had decided that she needed to earn good money and had set about establishing a career for herself. When she had first started at the Authority she had a rough time settling in. Two of the other Directors took a dislike to her; one of them the previous Director of Public Health didn’t rate nurses. They gave her a very difficult time but she weathered the storm and became a formidable, politically aware, shrewd force to reckon with. It now seemed that the mental health trust was going to be merged with the local community trust. It would become a large enterprise that would need competent Directors who were Chief Executive material. She saw a possible opportunity.

 

The switch was made by slight of hand. A press statement was issued trumpeting a positive development. Two senior health service managers swapping jobs to meet their development needs; an unusual scenario, but one that could be given a positive spin. After all if a patient escaping from a secure unit to buy a bag of chips could be made to sound positive the removal of a Trust Chief executive certainly could. She was well connected and her mentor was a senior figure in the health service scheme of things. A scandal had to be avoided and the job swap had been a brilliant idea.  Brady moved and Tim Boddington arrived like a breath of fresh air. Expectation hung thick in the air and everyone watched expectantly as they waited to see how he intended to handle matters. McPherson was encouraged by the fact that Boddington, who was in his late forties, greying and distinguished, appeared to be a straight talking Yorkshire man who had a psychiatric nursing background. He could pick up the signs and take the fight to the doctors. The time was right and if the challenge could be made here in Leicestershire then it could have national implications. 

 

She had asked McPherson to join her in the office for an update on the three homicide inquiries and the independent review of Arthur Lodge. She was aware that the closure of Bland ward because of the escapes and suicides further added to a picture of a hospital trust that was not being managed. She was keen to stress the good news and with Janet Brady gone and a new Chief Executive appointed she could see the way ahead. A new broom but it depended how it was used as to its effectiveness.  She had learned the politics well. She saw the opportunity. She would keep things close to her chest. He completed his short briefing.

 

“Thanks John.” She said “now to another matter. Quality monitoring visits, I have thought for some time now that we should be cutting down the number of visits to the mental health trust. I think the time is right to begin letting them self-monitor.  Besides which our agenda is growing and we cannot afford the time”.

 

“I don’t agree. You know my position on this matter. We do the minimum number of visits possible; nine site visits per year; not counting Arthur Lodge which gets two.” He argued “I know I sound like an old broken record but we must think of the Normansfield inquiry in the early seventies and the Hampshire Report at Goodmayes Hospital in 1996. Both criticised health authorities for not being aware of the state of the ward environments. Site visits are the only reliable way of finding out what its like out there at the sharp end” he continued “besides it also exposes health authority managers and non-executives to staff at the coalface and is good for the purchaser-provider relationship” he concluded.

 

“That may well be the case but we have to get the trust to take quality monitoring seriously and to accept responsibility for it” she said “Tim Boddington and I have discussed it and we are agreed” she ended.

 

He felt his heart sink. This was the second year running that this old chestnut had been dragged out of the closet. Last year she and Simon had tried to stitch up a deal with the trust without him, which would have reduced the number of visits conducted. He had stormed into her office and told her how important the visits were to the authorities risk reduction programme and she had relented. He could sense a wind of change in the way she spoke. The verbal and non-verbal language told him this would not be a subject for negotiation.

 

“The only way we have spotted the problems at Arthur Lodge, Bland and with CPA has been through quality monitoring visits. Stop those and you close the lid on the can of worms, and boy they the ugliest, fattest, juiciest worms you’ve ever seen.” He warned.

 

“Maybe that’s what is required right now” she said gently and firmly but with finality.

 

He felt the blow. Like a punch in his solar plexus. He suddenly knew that McPhail had changed horses. And he had depended upon her to be his shield from any bullets intended to put him off track, which she had readily done over this past few difficult years. He suddenly felt very alone and exposed.

***

The change was insidious. The other three team members disappeared one by one; assigned to other duties to reflect the changing shape of the health service.  Simon Gill retained the mental health brief but took on wider responsibilities and remained John’s line manager. John was left with no portfolio but continued to carry out the range of mental health duties that he had assumed and that had not been assigned to anyone else.  His colleagues vacated the shared office one by one leaving him in a 26 square metre room alone.  After ten months he sought legal advice from a law firm in Market Harborough specialising in employment law.  The advice he was given was more in the form of a series of questions the solicitor he saw asked.

"Are they paying you?"

"Are they putting any pressure upon you?

"Where would you go if successful at an Industrial Tribunal?"

 

It was undoubted that he could have left and taken an action for constructive dismissal, which he would have won, but he needed to stay in employment and as the options were still limited he did not feel he had a lot of scope to be able to take the money and run.  He resolved to sit tight and take his “shilling”.  After fourteen months a new Director was appointed who was assigned the lead for mental health.  Although Keith Orton was appointed as Finance Director he took on the onerous task of the least sexy portfolio; mental health.  Keith was in his mid thirties, slim, about five-feet seven tall with sharp features and thinning blond hair.  He was a very astute, articulate, intelligent man.  He cared about his team and tried to work in a non-hierarchical way. His homosexuality was well known and accepted, although there were many jibes and torts behind his back.  During his first weeks at the Authority he saw all of the personnel he had inherited on a one to one basis and interviewed them about their work and how they saw the future.  John McPherson took to Keith from the outset and felt he could trust the man.  It was in any event a case of having to, as he needed to express how he felt at being left dangling for such a lengthy period of time.  He pulled no punches in his honest assessment of the situation.   He told Keith how angry he was and the damage he felt this situation had caused him.  Keith asked for an assessment of John McPherson’s colleagues.  He was frank.  Sharon Rude was a troublemaker.  An intelligent woman who could produce first class work but she had been instrumental in holding back the development of community models of care and had on numerous occasions sabotaged work McPherson was undertaking for the mental health team.  Richard Hutchinson the finance officer and Veronica Rojas the information specialist were both sound and always supportive.  They both knew their stuff and were good team players.  Simon Gill was a piss poor manager he told Orton but was a cultured, intelligent, warm, sophisticated, well-organised administrator.  McPherson put forward his view that Simon was the most appropriate manager in the authority to lead on the Health Improvement Plan or HIMP as it was known.  His attention to detail and his long hours of working made him an ideal candidate.  McPherson had no idea how Keith Orton was taking his frank assessment.  He soldiered on though and explained the history of mental health service commissioning since he had arrived at the authority in 1993.  He dived straight in and gave his opinion in unabridged form about the change of tack from Cathy McPhail and the difficulties in ensuring that Department of Health guidance was followed in regard to inquiries.  He raised concern about the fulfilling of public duty by the authority and ensuring the mental health trust was moving towards providing a more community oriented, modern mental health service.   He described his passion for mental health services and was candid about how he might be perceived by some health authority directors and trust senior managers.  He challenged Orton to put his trust in him or get rid of him.

 

A week after the interview Orton saw McPherson again and told him he wanted him to lead the commissioning of mental health services.  McPherson was stunned, as he had not anticipated an outcome other than surviving as part of the mental health commissioning team.  Although unprepared for this and somewhat unsure that he could carry it off he was thrilled. He told Orton that he would be pleased to take the lead for him and that Orton could trust him to be loyal.

 

A few days later Orton came to see McPherson in his office and apologetically told him it would not now be possible for him to lead the new mental health commissioning team as Tim Boddington would not accept working with him.  McPherson was stunned and felt totally betrayed.  How could Boddington hold sway over such a decision?  It seemed perverse and corrupt that Boddington could interfere in such a way with a health authority appointment.

 

As a result, the appointment of Simon Gill’s successor went ahead over the next two months.  Three candidates were short-listed and McPherson was invited to the “trial by buffet lunch” to meet them.  There were two male candidates who were external to the area and one female candidate who was already working within adult mental health services in the authority’s catchment area.  McPherson spent time with the two external candidates, as he already knew the third candidate.  He liked Kathy Phillips. He knew of her reputation and had met her on a couple of occasions when he found her easy to get on with, thoroughly professional and highly intelligent and motivated.  However, he concluded that the candidate from Essex was the more qualified and most suitable.  Kathy had the favour of John Boddington though and was appointed.  For McPherson this was a situation of mixed blessings.  Once again he had been “passed over” and indeed he still felt very let down having had a chance at the lead role in mental health purchasing dangled in front of him only to have it snatched away.  He did have his world restored to pre isolation times and as well as becoming part of the mental health team again and his salary was restored to its previous level.

 

Over the next nine months he felt a thrill as he and Kathy appeared to have a natural affinity for the task.  He found her to be frighteningly intelligent but warm and felt he could work with her.  He knew she was the boss but he felt that professionally he was given respect and could work well with Kathy.  She allowed him certain latitude that made him feel able to contribute towards the team goals side by side with her.  In some ways he hero-worshiped her and at times when they spent time in her office in detailed analysis of key objectives and despite her lesbianism, he felt sexually attracted to her.  At times he felt sure she was giving him the message that the feelings were reciprocated.  This left him confused, as he was worried about having the feelings at all and that he might be misreading the signs.  He later concluded that his feelings were to do with power and his desire to improve mental health services. 

 

Kathy rarely showed anything other than a very mild temperament but on one memorable occasion he spurred her to “loose” her temper.  For the first few weeks of Kathy’s tenure in her new role she shared the same twenty-six-foot square office as McPherson, as Simon Gill had not yet been able to occupy his new office.   This allowed the pair to work very closely during this period.  McPherson would from time to time overhear Kathy talking to someone on the phone or to someone meeting with her in the office. He found himself unable to resist interjecting if he felt the need. On one occasion he overheard a discussion about new types of mental health teams that were to be set up. Not only was this new way of working, known as Assertive Outreach, which McPherson supported but it had been he who had studied the subject during two study tours to the USA and on return had been invited to the Policy Division at the Department of Health to share his findings.  Having it included in the national mental health strategy had been so fulfilling for McPherson so his passion for this was redoubled. When he overheard Kathy appearing to agree to criteria that did not fit with the standards set down for these teams he called across the office

“Kathy you can’t agree to that!”

When she had ended her phone call she rounded on McPherson and a mild altercation ensued.  McPherson ended the spat by telling Kathy that the problem was that the two of them did not have the same vision and that if they didn’t how would they convince the wider constituency.  She immediately suggested that they have a half-day set aside to discuss their vision for adult mental health services.  McPherson was proud to have such a relationship with Kathy Phillips.  He admired her, in fact more than that he worshiped her. He saw her as a Joan of Arc type figure fighting valiantly for the rights of the mentally ill and driving forward the reforms of the mental health system.  He was her loyal lieutenant, standing four square by her side wielding his sword in protection.  This was a far cry from the preceding months that had seen him, roleless, ignored and abandoned.  His confidence was being regained and his self esteem slowly returning.