The offer landed on a Thursday afternoon: £29,000, standard benefits, start date in a month. I read it once, felt relieved, and replied before I'd finished my coffee. It was a marketing coordinator role at a mid-sized agency in Leeds — my first move up from an assistant title, and the number felt entirely fair to me at the time.
A colleague from the same hiring round — same job title, same team, same opening offer of £29,000 — took a week longer to confirm. It wasn't until our first six-month review, when our manager mentioned "where everyone sits on the band" almost in passing, that the two of us compared notes over lunch afterwards. His contract said £33,500. Same letter. Same start date. A £4,500 gap that, as far as I could tell, had nothing to do with either of our CVs.
What he actually did between the offer and the contract
It wasn't dramatic. He didn't threaten to walk, and he didn't have a rival offer waiting. He replied to HR asking for a short call, said the number was lower than his own research into similar Leeds roles suggested, and named a figure roughly £4,500 above the original offer. HR came back three days later with £33,500. That was, in full, the negotiation.
I didn't do any of that — not because I didn't think about it, but because it genuinely didn't occur to me that the number in the letter was a starting point rather than a final one. (Personal account, one workplace. Individual results vary, and this isn't a claim about any specific employer or industry.)