MISSING THE X-FACTOR?

Petronella Wyatt on the astounding

coincidence that has alarmed Dome insiders

THERE was mystification all round when it was announced that Pierre-Yves Ger- beau was to take charge of the Dome. Why did our emblematic, national symbol require a Frenchman to turn it around? There was more puzzlement when it turned out that M. Gerbeau was not a prodigy who had transformed the fortunes of Euro Disney, but only a middle-ranking junior executive.

The Spectator, however, may be in a position to enlighten the British public. There was, and is, another Frenchman, whose surname is pronounced in exactly the same way but with an 'x'. His Christian name is Jean-Marie. From 1989 to 1995 M. Gerbeaux was head of communications at Euro Disney and is credited by insiders as having turned around the attraction in 1994.

The question has to be asked: had there been a terrible mistake? Had the govern- ment and the New Millennium Experience Company been flummoxed by the 'X' fac- tor? Got the wrong Gerbeau? Netted the wrong frog? Had the Dome gang made another coq-up?

Pierre-Yves Gerbeau has been hailed as a potential 'saviour'. Admittedly, he has not done badly so far. In January, sales fig- ures showed that there were just 366,000 paying visitors; but in February atten- dances rose. No one, however, seemed to know much about M. Gerbeau. He joined Disney in 1991, having been an ice-hockey player. It then turned out that he was in a modest position there, involved in the day- to-day running of the attraction. Jean- Marie Gerbeaux, on the other hand, had been employed in the infinitely superior role of director. Pierre-Yves was paid only £35,000 a year (he is, controversially, receiving £100,000 at the Dome). Jean- Marie Gerbeaux was paid more than dou- ble that amount. He is 52. His career would seem to be among the most glitter- ing of his generation. He is the proud holder of a licence de sociologie and a certi- ficat de maltrise economic. politique et sociale. `Pee Wee' announced, winsomely, that he needed only his three-year-old daughter, Clemence, who would be his closest adviser. 'She has been to all the Disney parks. She will bring an extraordi- nary expertise of her own.'

Jean-Marie Gerbeaux joined Euro Dis- ney in 1989 from Renault where he had worked since 1971 as internal and external director of communications. At Euro Dis- ney he was head of corporate communica- tions. Then, in 1995, he became vice-president of the huge company Elf Aquitaine. He is now a senior executive at SNCF, France's national railway company. He is married with one child, and the fami- ly live in a large house in the expensive Rue de Conde in Paris. He is bilingual in French and English (speaking the latter more fluently than his namesake) and con- versant in German.

According to the French cognoscenti Jean-Marie is one of the most admired brains in Paris. 'He has an extremely important job, to say the least,' said Cair Leguent, a financial correspondent at Le Figaro newspaper. 'To be running external and internal communications is a very senior responsibility.' M. Gerbeaux's col- leagues certainly treat him as a man of substance. There is no 'Bonjour. Hi, guys, it's great to be here!' — the mid-Atlantic camaraderie as displayed by 'Pee Wee'. He is shielded by a legion of secretaries. When I telephoned he was in a meeting with the head of SNCF. 'He is too busy to be dis- turbed,' said an assistant. Could I speak to him later? 'He is a very busy man. Please send your questions by fax. He will reply in English.'

I sent M. Gerbeaux a fax but modestly, perhaps, he declined to respond. I rang his private office. Did I detect panic in the voices of the gorgons? Mesdames Bil- lard and Delvalle seemed to form a sort of praetorian guard around their boss. They kept refusing to put me through to M. Gerbeaux. Were they protecting him from the revelation of the terrible truth; the horrible consequences that might fol- low? At any moment an invitation from Bob Ayling to the right Gerbeaux, their Gerbeaux, might be winging its way over the fax machine. Merde. They had got away with it so far by some incredible stroke of fortune. Won, non,' cried Madame Billard for the fifth time (was her tone a little too shrill?), `you cannot speak to him.'

M. Gerbeaux was not so shy, however, when he wrote a letter to the Independent in 1994 about his then role at Euro Disney. The letter suggested that Gerbeaux had played a not inconsiderable role in turning the theme park around. 'With almost 19 million guests so far, Euro Disney is a com- mercial success; it is the top short-break destination in Europe,' he bragged.

`Jean-Marie would have been the obvi- ous choice,' says a former employee of Euro Disney. 'Given that everyone was astonished when it was offered to someone who was a glorified carpark attendant, here might be your reason.'

Moreover, no one is quite sure who rec- ommended the callow Pierre-Yves to whom. The newspapers claimed it was M. Philippe Bourguignon, a former Disney senior executive who really did help the theme park out of the red before moving on to run Club Med. Apparently, he rec- ommended Gerbeau to Bob Ayling, the NMEC chairman. Only the NMEC isn't really certain. 'We're not sure who it was. It might ,have been someone else, It could have been someone called Gil Pelisan.' A seed of doubt had been sown in their minds.

Then, out of the blue, Madame Billard got back to me from the SNCF HO. 'We have been considering your question that they made a mistake at the Dome,' she ven- tured. 'Perhaps, yes. But it is a bit late now.'

It was time to ring the Dome again. NMEC was sounding increasingly rattled. `Look here,' said the spokesman. 'If there has been a mistake you have to speak to Bob Ayling's office. He made the appoint- ment.' I tried the head office of British Air- ways in London. Once more a legion of assistants sounded slightly febrile. Eventu- ally I was told by a woman that it was not possible to speak to Mr Ayling. 'Why?' `Because he is away, er, in Africa.' Pause. `For a long time.'

Flicking at ,random through the Paris telephone directory, as perhaps Mr Ayling had done, I noticed a large number of Ger- beaus. My eyes rested on a Francois Ger- beaux.

He turned out to be a construction work- er, aged 40. This sounded ample, ideal even. `Ah, bon,' I said. 'And you are defi- nitely called Gerbeaux?' Oui,' he returned emphatically. 'Well, then, I should like to offer you the job of head of the British Dome in Greenwich on behalf of Bob Ayling.' M. Gerbeaux was gobsmacked. He had heard of the Dome, seen its pictures in the newspapers. But who was Bob Ayling? Never mind. The job sounded intriguing, especially when I offered him £100,000 a year. 'Perhaps I should start by rebuilding it?' he suggested. It is not very beautiful. When should I start?"0h, Mr Ayling will get back to you,' I assured him. No worries. Bob's your oncle.