The following day, back at the office:
“Have you ever taken meeting minutes, Charlotte?”
“No, I haven´t, Sir.”
“You´re starting now. I want you to sit in on this.” Haswell waves me over to a chair at the far end of the conference table.
As a dozen or so people gather around the table, I start jotting down a note of their names.
One man sits about halfway along the table. Short and tubby, for some reason, he looks familiar, and as I look up, for a moment there is a flash of semi-recognition, then he looks away, as though he also thinks that he knows me. I chew my lip, trying to place his face, then dismiss it as the meeting assembles.
Haswell sits at the head of the table, my Master beside him. The content of the meeting is mundane enough, but I find it useful and interesting, as I learn the roles of the people involved, timetables for work, scheduling for supplies and plans. It is easy enough to keep up with my note-taking.