NO FRILLS AIRLINE, no frills office: Ray Webster, chief executive of Easyjet, runs his company from an oversized shed with Portakabin add-ons round the back of the runway at Bedfordshire’s Luton airport. Jets taxi alarmingly close to the windows, pilots pop across the car park to check in, staff loll on old sofas in a steamy canteen.

It has the feel of a hastily patched together start-up, which is fair enough as the company was only launched in 1995. Harder to swallow is how fast it has grown: Easyjet floated in 2000, gobbled up rival Go in 2002, and has already put together a fleet of 70 aircraft with another 120 on order from Airbus. It is now flying 19m passengers a year on over 105 routes between 38 airports in Europe — and it’s making a loss.

Growing pains? Webster, 56, a quietly spoken New Zealander, gives a wry smile. Not many bosses can get away with announcing a £46.9m loss over six months and then watch their share price go up — last week Webster did, testimony to the fact that there is some sympathy among investors for the conditions facing Easyjet. The Iraq war meant the airline had to cut its fares to fill seats. Then there were the costs of integrating Go, which it bought for £374m last year. Not to mention “economic softness”. As Webster puts it, “it’s been a difficult time”.

So, how nice to be liked. Nobody is sure how long the honeymoon period will last, of course, or indeed what happens next. There are, as Webster points out, too many imponderables this summer — recession, Sars, terrorism. The only certainty is that Easyjet will continue to feel the hot breath of competition on its neck, in particular from its no-frills rival Ryanair. That heat has been turned up in recent weeks in a series of Ryanair press ads attacking Webster in person, comparing him to Pinocchio and Comical Ali. What is Ryanair up to?

Not sure, says Webster. He seems unperturbed, though whether he’s feeling the pressure or not is hard to tell, if only because he already looks pretty beaten up at the best of times. Grey-haired, grey-shirted, sore-eyed with a nervous blink and a face like a rumpled duvet, Webster has held the Easyjet operation together almost since its first flight despite often looking, to be blunt, knackered.

He laughs it off — “you should have seen me six months ago” — and it doesn’t seem to have slowed him down.

With 30-odd years of experience under his belt at Air New Zealand and its predecessor, he was a valuable catch for Easyjet founder Stelios Haji-Ioannou when he launched the airline. Since then Webster has been given increasing control as the serial entrepreneur’s interest moved elsewhere. Stelios plus his brother and sister still own 42% of the airline, but it is Webster’s show now.

And that, it seems, was always the intention, replacing the showman with the engineer at a time when passengers and investors alike needed reassurance that there was an experienced hand at the controls.

In fact, Stelios had popped in that morning for a briefing on the figures, though he doesn’t, says Webster, contribute to strategy now. Gone for good? “Technically Stelios has the right to come back as chairman,” grins Webster, but nobody expects him to.

And being the grey technocrat has its advantages. For one, Webster doesn’t seem to rile easily, hence his insouciance over Ryanair’s provocation. And if he is going to needle someone, he does it with an engineer’s precision. So why does he think Ryanair has homed in on him, portraying him as a hapless leader? Those hooded eyes narrow further.

“Actually I think Ryanair is trying to draw attention away from something.”

Such as?

“Well, why don’t you ask them how their bookings were in March?”