Summer Daydreams

by Carole Matthews

  Chapter 57

  I’m up bright and early the next morning. Well, I’m not exactly bright, but it is early. I didn’t sleep much at all last night. My mind was whirring with figures and ideas. Now I’m glad to be up and about so that I can crack on with my plans.

  I’m meeting Tod for breakfast in town. One of the cafés does an excellent full-English for three quid and we’re going to avail ourselves of it while we talk about my business plan. I thought it was better for him to not come to the shop as it would only antagonise Olly. We’re not exactly giving each other the silent treatment, but we’re not exactly love’s young dream either. I crept out of bed without waking him. Now I tiptoe out of the flat and into the coolness of the morning air.

  Tod is already waiting for me when I bowl up at the café five minutes later. We order our breakfast and I tell him about our lovely holiday as we eat, leaving out the sex on the kitchen table part and the subsequent row after he’d telephoned while we were at it again. Sigh.

  When we’ve eaten and the waitress has cleared the table, we spread out the notes I’ve already made in front of us. When I got home from Cornwall yesterday, the contract from the shopping channel, Home Mall, had already been emailed to me. These guys certainly don’t hang around.

  I went online and checked out their website. It’s filled with clips of the show and the type of products they sell. There’s anything from books to blouses, floor mops to furniture, shoes to kitchen scales. It looks like a tightly run outfit. On a par with the other big shopping channels that are broadcast. The presenters are slick – if slightly inane – and flog the heart out of everything they pick up. The studio is a pastel-hued affair complete with fake French doors, beyond which is a mural of a bright blue sea and a big yellow sun. The doors are flanked by two potted palm trees. Miami in microcosm. Frankly, I could give this a funkier makeover. I wish I could watch the programme on air – it must be put out on one of those high number channels – but our meagre budget won’t run to Sky telly, so we can’t get any of them. The Meyers household is strictly terrestrial.

  ‘I haven’t heard of this outfit before, but their website looks very professional. If the others are anything to go by, it’ll be massive,’ Tod reiterates as he looks at my scribblings. ‘They move thousands of units in each session. Thousands.’

  Just how many they anticipate selling is listed on the email in front of me. It’s a mind-boggling number.

  ‘I need to go to the bank on Monday and see if they’ll extend my borrowing.’ I’ve already made an appointment with my business manager who, so far, has been quite amenable to loading up my overdraft.

  ‘If you have this contract to show him, then it shouldn’t be a problem.’

  The worst thing is having to pay for everything up front, but that’s apparently the way these things work. All of the shopping channels pride themselves on getting the stock customers have bought through their programmes out to them very quickly. That means that vast numbers of my handbags have to be ready and waiting in their warehouse. I simply don’t have the time to rush to manufacture the handbags after the orders have been received.

  ‘Do you know anyone who’s done this before?’

  ‘No.’ Tod shakes his head. ‘I asked around the office. You’re the first we know of. It looks like the Nell McNamara brand is getting out there. Well done.’

  ‘There is one thing on the contract that worries me immensely,’ I confess. ‘I have to pay over twenty thousand pounds to book the slot.’ Apparently, this ensures that I’m serious about it. The money goes towards the cost of ware-housing, shipping, the telephone ordering service and the actual filming of the products. When the programme has been aired and the orders roll in, then I get all of that money back – as long as the orders cover it. For Home Mall, it seems like a win/win situation, but they’re calling the shots and I guess that’s how the cookie crumbles.

  ‘It’s a huge sum,’ Tod agrees. ‘I ran it by the legal team at Best of Business and they seem to think it’s all above board. This clause isn’t unusual in this sort of situation.’

  I feel naive to have even raised the question. These people are used to dealing with far greater sums of money than I ever have and probably think nothing of it. Me, I can’t help my knees shaking when I think of the money involved. Money that, of course, I don’t have.

  ‘It does mean, though, that all the risk is with you, not them,’ he points out. ‘Are you sure that you want to take that on?’

  I nod. At some time you have to bite the bullet and go for it. I think this is my moment.

  ‘You’ll have to go out to China to find a manufacturer,’ Tod tells me.

  ‘I’ve already thought about that.’ I toy with my spoon, stirring my coffee. ‘Don’t fancy coming with me, do you?’ Frankly, I’m terrified of flying out there and trying to sort it all out by myself.

  ‘I’d love to,’ he says and, for a moment, my spirits lift. ‘But there’s no way that I could justify the expense. Best of Business would never cover it.’ They sink again.

  Briefly, I consider offering to pay to take Tod with me. If I’m borrowing such ginormous sums then a couple more thousand is neither here nor there, surely?

  Then I see sense and think that I must do this alone. If I’m ever going to consider myself a rufty-tufty, international business woman, then I must learn to do these things by myself. But the thought of getting on a plane to China terrifies me.

  ‘If there’s anything else I can do, you know that I’m here to help. You can always call on me.’

  ‘Thanks, Tod. You’ve done so much for me already.’

  ‘I really hope this flies for you, Nell. You put so much into this; you really deserve to have success.’

  ‘Thanks.’ But no one hopes for it more than me.

  Chapter 58

  That afternoon, while Olly takes Petal out to feed the ducks in the town centre, I check what time it is in Miami, the home of the shopping channel. I take a deep breath and with her email in front of me, I call Lola Cody, Chief Executive of Home Mall. A woman with a warm, motherly voice answers the phone.

  I introduce myself and she bowls me over when she replies, ‘Oh, honey, we just love your handbags here. We think they are just what Home Mall customers will go crazy for.’

  Relief floods through me. She sounds like a normal person – just like me or you – and not some scary, high-powered, anorexic, workaholic in a pinstriped suit.

  ‘We are going to make you famous,’ she gushes on.

  ‘Everyone will soon know the name, Nell McNamara.’ I’m liking the sound of this more and more.

  ‘You don’t know how good that makes me feel,’ I tell her. ‘I was so worried about this.’

  ‘No need to be, honey.’ Her sing-song American accent soothes me.

  ‘How did you hear about my handbags?’

  ‘I’ve seen you in the English media and now I think the world should know about you!’

  ‘We’re a very small business,’ I stress. I’m not sure I need to go into details about quite how small. ‘This is a huge deal for us. Plus, I recently had some of my designs ripped off, so it’s made me very nervous about trusting people.’

  ‘You’re in safe hands now,’ she assures me. ‘You just send us your lovely handbags and we take care of everything else. There’s nothing at all to worry about. Here at Home Mall we simply love to launch new designers.’

  ‘I’ve had such knock-backs,’ I confide. ‘That really is music to my ears.’

  The door of the shop flings open and Olly and Petal are back from their outing to the ducks. My daughter runs into the office, arms wide, shouting, ‘Mummy!’ before barrelling into me.

  ‘Sssh, Petal. Mummy’s on the telephone to an important lady.’

  ‘Hello, important lady!’ my child shouts into the phone.

  ‘So sorry,’ I say to Lola. ‘As you can probably tell, my daughter has just come in.’ That’s my peace shattered.

  ‘She sounds ado
rable.’

  That is always the first impression of Petal.

  ‘She’s my life,’ I tell her. ‘All this is being done purely to give her a better future.’

  At that I see Olly scowl.

  ‘That is so lovely of you,’ Lola coos. ‘I have two children of my own and I know just how you feel. Everything I do is for them.’

  This lady is my new best friend. She understands exactly what it is to be a woman in business, a mother.

  ‘What’s she called?’

  ‘Petal. She’s just four.’

  ‘Well, then we need to sell lots and lots of your lovely handbags for this little lady.’

  ‘I’m putting everything in place now,’ I go on. ‘This is a huge order for me. My manufacturing base here’ – aka me, Jenny and Constance – ‘just isn’t big enough to cope. I’m going out to China next week to set up there.’

  ‘You come back to me just as soon as you can,’ she says soothingly. ‘We want to run with this while it’s fresh.’

  I take that to mean that if I don’t get a move on then someone else will be snapping at my heels.

  ‘You know that you need to send me a fully refundable deposit to confirm your slot?’

  ‘Yes, I read that in the contract.’ It’s thirty thousand dollars. Roughly twenty grand. Twenty thousand of our English pounds! I feel the gulp travel down my throat, even as I think it. That’s a lot of money simply to prove that I’m serious about this. And here I am discussing it like it’s two and sixpence.

  ‘As soon as we have that,’ Lola continues, ‘we can book a mutually suitable date and we’re good to go.’

  My heart beats faster. It’s as simple as that.

  ‘I’m really grateful for this opportunity,’ I say. I want to tell her how much I have struggled and how we can hardly make ends meet and how this will save us. But I think I will just come across as too pathetically grateful. ‘You don’t know what it means to us. It will, literally, turn our lives around.’

  ‘We’ll look after you here at Home Mall. We’re like one big happy family.’

  I wish I could say the same about the Meyers household, I think as I look over at Olly, who doesn’t look very happy at all.

  Chapter 59

  First thing on Monday morning I organise my flight to China. There are a few factories for me to visit, all conveniently based close together in Guangzhou in the Guangdong Province. I can fly direct into Guangzhou Baiyun International Airport, a place I’ve never previously heard of. I book my return ticket online, which makes me feel sick with nerves. This is how confident I am that the bank will say yes to loaning me the money. With this opportunity in front of them in black and white, how could they turn me down?

  That done, I rush straight to the bank for my appointment. I’m ushered into a plush office that I’ve never been in before and am even given a cup of tea while I explain what it is that I want. This is me in the big league!

  Thank the heavens and all that is good, my allocated Small Business Relationship Manager, Simon North, instantly agrees to lend me the staggering amount of money I’m going to need to put these handbags into production and also the sum for the deposit to book my television slot. I throw in an extra bit for sundry expenses and the total climbs to a dizzying forty thousand pounds.

  Simon barely flicks through the contract from Home Mall. He doesn’t even hesitate. I, however, do. By any standards the interest he is charging me is extortionate. Quickly, I do my sums and work out that, even at this rate, it’s still viable and if all goes to plan, will still give us an enormous return on investment. At least when I get my deposit back from Home Mall I can pay off some of the money I owe the bank, which will bring the sum owed down from a puke-inflicting amount to merely nausea-inducing.

  I know that businesses do this sort of thing every day and that if I’m going to make it big, then I have to get used to dealing with these kinds of numbers. Although I can rationalise it perfectly, it’s terrifying nevertheless. Simon North must lend out millions of pounds every single day without breaking sweat. My underarms, on the other hand, are damp with perspiration. I sign a form and he shakes my hand. The deal is done. Simon North offers me congratulations. He is smiling widely. I don’t think I am.

  I come out of the bank shaking and clutching my loan agreement. The money will be in my bank by this afternoon. I am truly on my way now.

  Immediately, I call Tod to tell him my good news. He is delighted for me, as I knew he would be. It pains me that I don’t feel able to call Olly and guarantee the same reaction. So instead of sharing my news with my husband, I head into town to do a few more chores. I buy a few bits for my impending trip to China, then I have a quick celebratory coffee all by myself before I have to go home and organise my entry visa.

  When I do, eventually, arrive back at the flat, Olly is sitting on the floor in the living room playing Jenga with Petal. It smells as if they’ve just had their lunch and there are a couple of dirty plates on the work surface, a pan in the sink. Beans on toast would be my guess. I sit down next to them both just as the wooden tower topples over and, in tandem, they tut at me, even though it wasn’t my fault.

  ‘It was the wonky floor in here,’ I protest. ‘Not me.’ But neither of them looks convinced.

  ‘How did it go at the bank?’ Olly asks, though the question lacks any great enthusiasm.

  ‘Good,’ I reply, although I can’t bring myself to tell him exactly how much we’re in hock for now. He’d pass out. Or have a heart attack. It’s giving me palpitations and I’m the one who really wants all this to happen. ‘We’re all set to go.’

  ‘You’re all set to go,’ he corrects.

  ‘You could come with me,’ I suggest. The thought perks me up. I’m so not looking forward to making this trip alone. If I’m honest, I don’t even like getting the train down to London by myself. This is a whole new level of sheer terror. ‘If you want to. Come out to China. I could book you a flight. Do you think you could get another week off work?’

  At that, Olly lowers his head.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Petal,’ he says. ‘Can you please go and read a book in your room while I talk about grown-up things to Mummy?’

  ‘I hope you’re not going to shout,’ she replies.

  ‘We’re not going to shout.’

  ‘You always say that,’ she reminds him, ‘but then you do.’ With that parting shot, she stomps off anyway.

  I wait expectantly. Then, ‘Are we going to shout?’ Eventually, Olly responds. ‘I haven’t got a job at the pizza factory any more.’

  It takes me a while to process this and I stare at him, open-mouthed, as I do. No job? ‘What? Why not?’

  ‘I was sacked while you were in Paris,’ Olly admits.

  ‘Why?’

  ‘I put sad faces on all of the mushroom and pepperoni pizzas.’

  If this wasn’t such a tragedy, I’d laugh. A lot.

  ‘Sad faces? They can’t sack you for that.’

  ‘They can,’ Olly says. ‘They have. Virtually the whole run had to be scrapped.’

  ‘And your excuse for this?’

  He shrugs. ‘I had stuff on my mind. I wasn’t concentrating.’

  He had stuff on his mind!

  ‘Can’t you ask them for your job back?’

  He sighs now. ‘To be honest, Nell, I’m not sure that I want it back.’

  ‘But that was our main source of income.’ It’s not a case of want, the way I see it. We need that money to pay our bills.

  ‘I’ll find something else,’ he says. ‘In the meantime, at least, I’m at home to look after Petal while you go gadding off round the world.’

  ‘I’m not “gadding off”; I’m finding a factory in China that will make my handbags. I’m not going to be lying on a sunlounger with a colourful drink with a bloody umbrella in it.’ I’m trying to keep my temper under control, but I’ve had enough of Olly trying to undermine my attempts at growing this business. ‘Jenny could look af
ter Petal for us again. Or Constance.’

  ‘You can’t keep dumping your kid on everyone else,’ he snaps. ‘She’s your responsibility.’

  ‘I’m well aware of my responsibilities,’ I bite back. ‘Are you aware of yours? I’m not the one who’s lost my job for making sad faces.’

  Olly stands up. ‘I can’t do this any more. I’m sorry, Nell. I just can’t. You’ve changed. Nothing is the same. I don’t even know who you are.’

  I stand up too. ‘Now you’re being ridiculous.’

  ‘You have no time for me. Or for Petal.’

  ‘We’ve just had a great week in Cornwall together.’

  ‘Did we? All I remember is having to come back early because of your stupid business.’

  ‘Is that really all that you remember?’ I raise my eyebrow at him. ‘Because I can remember us getting on particularly well!’

  ‘If you’re talking about our one night of passion, which was interrupted by a phone call from “Tod Urban”’ – that mocking tone again – ‘then you’re deluded. There’s no romance between us now, Nell. Is a few days of sun, sand, sea and sex in Cornwall supposed to sustain us for the rest of the year? Before then, when did we last sleep together?’

  ‘It wasn’t for the want of trying,’ I remind him.

  ‘Relationships aren’t all about sex, anyway.’

  ‘They aren’t all about work either.’ He shakes his head.

  ‘That’s all it’s about now. Work. Your work. There’s nothing else left.’

  ‘I didn’t know you felt like that.’

  ‘Well, now you do,’ he says and with that, he snatches up his jacket and thuds down the stairs, banging the door as he leaves.

  Chapter 60

  Olly walked round and round in circles for hours. He had no idea where he had been or where he was going. The afternoon was morphing into the evening and he knew that he should go back home and face Nell. But he just didn’t want to, just couldn’t.