Swindled

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Swindled Page 11

by Mayes, June


  “It’s crucial,” the associate insisted noticing Beth’s attention, “that you choose the right setting and trappings for your loved one’s service.” He flipped through another binder which had photos of various funerals he had organised to demonstrate the variety and styles that the twins could choose from.

  “We aren’t looking for anything extravagant,” Beth said putting the brochure back down again. “We want something simple and elegant where people can just say goodbye.”

  “Something more intimate. Yes that is very popular these days,” he said as he pulled out a pad of paper and a pen. He started asking questions: what style coffin, what would they like him buried in, how long a funeral did they have in mind, what sort of venue would they like for the funeral, who should be invited and who would do the inviting, arrangement of service and so it went on. It really was like planning a wedding.

  Finally in a bid to simplify the whole decision making process the twins decided to hold a wake at their home. The associate was over the moon.

  “How classy and with just a touch of trendy. Perfect,” he was fairly gushing as they hashed out the details. “Everyone can come here to the house and we will have caterers put on a brunch. The mourners can then pay their respects to Brian in their own time without fuss and bother at a local funeral parlour.” He frantically dialled on his mobile phone to get a list of available suppliers.

  The decisions finally whittled down, the twins could relax. They chose caterers and arranged through Brian’s housekeeper to have his tux sent to the local funeral parlour while the associate haggled with a contact at the local funeral home. The funeral parlour would be fully responsible for preparing the body and the cremation, the details of which neither sister wanted to clarify. By the time he left the house, all the twins had to do was fax the coroner the details and the funeral was arranged. Beth thought it was kind of sad that even death was big business these days.

  By noon Beth, Vickie and Scott were settling down to watch rugby in the family room. Today was the last game of the season. Beth hadn’t remembered watching a game since university and had been a bit reluctant to start paying attention now.

  “But it’s a crucial game!” Scott looked shocked that she might consider not showing her support. “Think of it as your national duty,” he said as he steered his wife into the family room. Beth sighed. It didn’t look like she was going to be able to get out of this one easily. So far she had managed to avoid discussing her run in with the team captain with Scott and she hoped her luck would hold. Vickie gave her a wink.

  “That’s right Beth,” she said with a cheery smile. “It’s your national duty to come and watch your one night stand in action. Oh and you know if you don’t watch, Charlotte, Karin and Bee will make your life miserable forever,” she ended getting, once again, the last word. Beth gave her sister a mock frown and followed the two of them into the room. If she was honest, she really did want to clap eyes on him again. Just to remind herself that he had been real and not a figment of her overactive imagination.

  Scott had quickly given both the sisters a run down on David Andrews as they watched the pre-game run up. David was apparently a well liked and strong captain; one Scott seemed to think was crucial to the game. A year ago David announced he was planning on retiring but up until the last few months most people didn’t actually believe him. With his departure there would be a shake up in the team. Everyone agreed that David was leaving on a high note with the team in the best possible condition. This apparently was important Beth thought and shook her head as she watched Scott’s enthusiastic explanation. Men were all children at heart she decided.

  A minute later Beth’s mobile rang.

  “I’ve been nominated,” Bee’s voice filled the line sounding pained. “Are you going to be watching the rugby game?” she asked. Beth laughed.

  “Yes I’m watching,” she replied putting Bee’s mind to rest. There was no way she was going to be able to avoid the inevitable. Besides she was curious to see David again. It was kind of a nice sensation the way all the nerves in her body just melted at the thought of him.

  “Good. Call me when it’s over and I promise to keep the other two off your back so you can enjoy the view in peace,” Bee cheerfully replied and hung up. Beth just shook her head. Fate or at least family and friends were conspiring against her. Rugby it was.

  As the game started Beth had to admit deep down that she was glad to see David in action. The man she had met seemed a far cry from the sports personality that everyone was raving about. No doubt about it he was a popular and well liked team captain but as an individual he was even more interesting. She tried to tell her heart to stop pounding as the cameras zoomed in on the sidelines and focused on his face before turning back to the game. Just looking at the man made her tremble.

  Having met him, it made David seem so much more real then any of the other people on the television screen. He was wearing the rugby uniform with what looked like a lightweight fleece with the team colours. She glued her eyes to the screen and watched David’s changing expressions as he stood on the sidelines as the match played on. He and the coach often conferred making crucial decision after crucial decision for the team.

  Finally in the second half David played. Beth took the opportunity to let her eyes wander over his body as he shed the warm up suit and revealed almost indecent shorts and muscular legs. Even at this distance his body looked as strong and tight as she remembered. He was a handsome man and had an energy that seemed to surround him as he led his team into an exciting last victory.

  *

  There was a thrilling buzz in the air as David walked into the sponsors box after the game. He smiled. What a day. Turning David accepted a glass of expensive Champaign that one of the sponsors had fetched for him. Around the room the team was in high spirits and the excitement boomed. David laughed watching their antics and he headed over to join a group by the window. He wondered if Beth had watched the game. He had to take it for granted that her friends would have told her who he was. There was no way they were going to keep that from her.

  No, he decided with a smirk taking a sip from his glass. David figured that Beth’s friends would have to pull her kicking and screaming toward a television today. That’s one of the things he liked about her, he thought. She was exciting and interested in him as a man. She couldn’t care less what he did for a profession. He didn’t miss the catch in her voice when she spoke to him on the telephone before she had any idea. Beth was as interested in him as he was in her.

  *

  By evening Beth was more then ready to curl up under the covers and loose herself in sleep. She was exhausted from worry about the business, arranging the funeral and just generally ready to have a quiet moment to herself. In the calm of the evening those moments before she drifted off the sleep; Beth lay back and thought about David. He had been exciting to watch in the game and she had held her breath when things had gotten exciting. She wondered how his shoulder was feeling now that the adrenaline had worn off and all the muscles used during the day would be reminding him they were there. As her eyes drifted shut she hoped that David was somewhere celebrating in style. He deserved it.

  Chapter 22

  Sunday turned into a mad rush from one end of the house to the other. Beth spent most of the time putting together samples of stock to take into the meetings they had managed to arrange for the week ahead. Vickie followed her around the house at a speedy waddle trying to help while Scott put the final touches on the presentation. They were going to give their business every chance of succeeding come hell or high water. By Monday morning they were all feeling the strain. Beth just wanted to stand in the garden and scream. Given that the neighbours might object to her turning into a raving lunatic in public, she decided she may as well hold off the screaming until a more appropriate occasion – like Brian’s funeral.

  They had managed, by pulling favours and sheer obstinacy, to set up eight interviews over the week. Beth was go
ing to beg borrow and plead for a chance. Before leaving for the first of three meetings, she checked herself in the mirror and decided she was as ready as she would ever be. The charcoal grey suit with a pencil straight skirt made her look like a proper business woman. The light pink shirt gave her a soft and feminine appeal. Black satin pumps with pink bows tied the whole outfit together. Vickie stood hovering next to her.

  “I wish I could go with you,” Vickie said as she handed her sister a hair clip and met her eyes in the mirror.

  “I know,” Beth agreed and then snickered. “But you have to admit that you might get stuck in a doorway somewhere along the line.” Vickie laughed back and rubbed a hand over her enlarged stomach. She looked stretched beyond the point of no return. Beth smiled and pulled her hair back into its usual twist which looked efficient, sort of.

  “Well here goes,” she said and picked up the sample case by the front door. She turned to Vickie who handed Beth the presentation and gave her one last hug. Beth took a deep breath and headed toward the underground with a case of samples, their presentation and the dredges of her pride. She hoped this was going to work.

  Walking into the first meeting Beth felt positive, this was a typical high street chain so the quality of their products was not going to be an issue. That is unless the high street chains had something against quality. Beth thought about it. Given what they often stocked on the shelves it could be possible but unlikely she decided after a minute. From Beth and Vickie’s point of view they had been wary of approaching a high street chain because it wasn’t the type of outlet they were looking for; it wasn’t the right image for their lingerie. The current situation had changed all that and meant that they had reassessed. By the end of the week they hoped to have two or even three retailers they could choose from. Luckily when Beth finally got through to the sales manager of this High Street store, he had been keen on seeing Beth and Vickie’s merchandise.

  “We’re trying to improve the store’s image and one sure way to do that was to include higher quality merchandise for the more discerning buyer,’ he sounded smarmy on the phone but when push came to shove, Beth and Vickie couldn’t be picky.

  So Beth walked into their offices feeling positive and as luck would have it the meeting started better then she could have expected. The store buyers were a high spirited bunch and picked through all the samples with zeal.

  “I think this would go down a scream in our under eighteen market,” a lady with bleach blond hair gushed as she picked up one of the more elegant pieces. Beth had to restrain herself from rolling her eyes. Under eighteens? Did this woman have no sense? That particular number was of the peek-a-boo variety and bound to get parent groups on the rampage.

  “I think this would the perfect present from a boyfriend, don’t you,” another of the buyers giggled as she picked up a sheer black lace bra with vertical satin stripes sewn in stripes. It was certainly a great gift from a boyfriend Beth had to concede but more likely a boyfriend of the over twenty-five variety rather then an under aged pimply faced boy. She was starting to get a very clear picture just why these high street chains were just on that shade of trashy rather then classy. Still at least the buyers were interested. Beth crossed her fingers behind her back.

  Unfortunately, mere seconds later, the mood of the meeting began to deteriorate rapidly. It always would Beth was afraid when they got down to details.

  “No we can’t provide these items in a nylon or poly blend. The entire point is that these are high quality unique items,” Beth explained patiently for the third time. The buyer she was speaking to was actually pouting back at her with bottom lip protruding and big puppy dog eyes batting great lashes up at Beth. She turned to look at the boss of the group, a podgy middle aged woman who looked, quite frankly, bored with the whole proceeding.

  “While we’re keen on bringing in higher quality of product, we are looking for a more affordable option for the average young buyer. We want a happy and cheaper medium.” The boss explained when she realised that everyone had fallen silent to listen to her decision on the matter. She thought for a minute, an activity that Beth prayed wouldn’t do the woman any long term damage. The woman leaned forward looking excited.

  “Why don’t we incorporate your designs into our current stock?” she asked sounding impressed with her own idea. Beth wondered if jumping up and strangling the woman would be deemed justifiable homicide given the circumstances. “You could sew some small pieces lace to the rayon and viscose underwear options we already have stocked. That way we can increase the price and boost the shops image with an affordable alternative,” the sales director looked positively chirpy as she made her suggestion. Beth shook her head. They just weren’t getting it and from the looks of things they weren’t going to. She thanked them for the opportunity and told them she would think about their suggestion. Feeling let down but with dignity still intact Beth took a deep breath and moved on to the next meeting of the day. One down and two more to go, there was still every chance it would all work out.

  Heading to the second meeting Beth felt positive. She and Vickie hadn’t been happy with the high street store alternative anyway. Their rejection was just confirmation that it was the wrong place for the lingerie to be.

  “The right retailer coupled with their merchandise would make for a very happy marriage,” an earnest sales executive explained to Beth as she was ushered into the boardroom where they were meeting. Boardroom was perhaps an exaggeration of course as it looked more like a store room that had quickly had everything pushed to one side so they could hold a meeting. Once again all the sales executives crammed into the room were thrilled at the materials she showed them. They virtually crooned over the bra and panty sets with their feathers, lace and silk. They were excited at the prospect of carrying the range. They were over the moon that Beth had come to them.

  Beth felt herself get excited. Could this be it she wondered? No was the simple answer. The very same sales executives who had been so overjoyed mere moments before did an about-face when it came to the costs. In fact the sales team looked, in Beth’s mind, like a pack of pit bull terriers who wanted to have the whole cow rather then just a juicy bone.

  “We feel that the inventory, while elegant and exclusive of course, should be provided at a much lower cost,” the same sales executive said after clearing his voice. Beth noticed that he was still lovingly stroking his finger over the satin trim of the piece lying near his hand.

  “With the pricing structure we’ve developed it takes into account the retail costs and still gives you a large profit margin on every item you sell,” Beth responded calmly and clearly. She knew it worked, what was this guy going on about? They liked the merchandise, it would work in their shop and it was affordable no matter what he said.

  “That was neither here nor there,” the chief sales executive clarified. “The store needs more profit on each garment. In fact, we would actually sell the items at a higher then you’ve outlined. People will pay more for this type of exclusive looking product and we can take advantage of that,” he continued leaning forward in his cheap suit looking smug and sounding condescending. “It’s not just the overheads and salaries being considered but the shareholders who all needed to make a profit from their investments. We need, as a retailer, to make a profit of about 80% on each item to make it worth our while.” Beth disagreed, 80% profit??? There was no point in arguing with the man and packed up her presentation. Somewhere in their organisation there was an accountant with a clip board screaming that in order to succeed a company had to take all suppliers to the cleaners- there was just no arguing with pure greed.

  As Beth thanked them once again for meeting her, she found herself being escorted to the building’s entry by the same chief sales executive. On the whole way there, the executive slyly tried to convince her that if she and her sister weren’t willing to sell at a lower cost perhaps they would consider selling the patterns to the retailer for a flat fee. Beth managed to mutter a quie
t refusal as she headed out the glass revolving door. She felt stunned. Basically they were looking for high quality lingerie which they could sell for a fortune but buy at cut rate prices. Not likely. What was wrong with paying a fair price for something Beth wondered? Why should the retailer’s shareholders make more of a profit per item then the very people who made and designed the materials? It made no sense.

  ‘What world did they live in?’ Beth thought to herself as she walked up Oxford Street to her next meeting. A middle aged lady walking past her the other way jumped. Beth gave her an apologetic look. Okay Beth thought sternly to herself, speaking out loud was really not a sign of mental stability. Beth tried to walk off some of the growing tension but it was no use. Did these companies really expect anyone to say ‘Hmm that sounds good’? Were there people who worked all the hours in the day struggling to make ends meet so some big chain store could make a huge profit? Were she and Vickie so ideological to think this would work? No, Beth thought abruptly, their work and their business were about quality and well worth the price. Someone would recognise that or the world would have to deal with the cheap quality generic underwear rather real quality.

  Beth started wondered who she could talk to about the last hours. She didn’t want to stress Vickie or Scott, they had enough to deal with, but she wanted to share all the day’s events with someone. Everything just seemed to be going around and around in her head. She could tell the girls but knowing them they would try to help and that would mean disaster. That was definitely a last resort. Beth smiled to herself as she looked in a few of the shop windows she passed.

 

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