by Debbie Flint
‘Trolls mum, you mean trolls.’
‘Whatever. Goodnight, sweetheart. And I’m sure it’ll all work out, you’ll see. Glass half full and all that. Now talking of glasses, where’s my Chardonnay.’
Sadie said goodbye and dabbed her eyes with a tissue. She really wanted to go home but this was it now. At the big meeting this afternoon the heads of terms should be signed, and her future secured. At least Mac seemed sure it would. But her initial excitement at the cut and thrust of being thrown into the middle of a business battle had been replaced with a sense of anticlimax. Especially now she hadn’t heard a word from Mac. She had a funny feeling in the pit of her stomach. And she desperately hoped he’d be in touch soon. Unless something was the matter.
She got up, showered yet again, got changed and ready to go out, and was about to walk out the door when there was a knock.
Mac?
‘Hello, Sadie.’
Bill Galloway stood at the door.
‘I was wondering if you’d join me for a brief spot of lunch?’
Over lunch the old man looked troubled, but he carried on a conversation with Sadie nonetheless. She remembered him mentioning that he’d have liked a daughter once upon a time, and she had to admit, he reminded her just a little of her father.
As they ordered drinks, Bill quizzed Sadie about her work. He wanted to know her opinion of the plant, the science and more about her planned studies. Then Sadie told him about Peter’s speech from the gantry – and that he only needed to break some loaves and share some fishes to complete the image.
‘You make me laugh, Sadie. In some ways you remind me of my late wife, God rest her.’
‘I bet she would have been proud of Peter and of what you’ve achieved.’
The old man hesitated, his smile fading. ‘In some respects, I’m sure she would.’
The subject turned to his support for the children’s home.
‘Yes, when Peter’s mother was alive we made many visits.’
‘The children are well looked after there, aren’t they?’
‘Nowadays the homes are great, yes, but it wasn’t always that way. My wife, she grew up in a home – it never left her. Kindred spirits, she said. We often went to visit the children together – especially in the early days.’ The old man’s eyes were wistful. ‘She always loved children but we were too busy back then. What with starting up the hotel, and everything.’
‘So the hotel came before you set up the first air taxi company here?’
‘You’ve done your homework.’ He chuckled. ‘Yes, and the little mineral water plant, and the local bakery. Most of them have gone now though.’
‘Wow, it’s a wonder you ever found the time to have children at all.’
‘Mmm,’ Bill said, uncomfortably.
‘And the invention of Frish? Was that after Peter came along?’
‘Yes, I was always dabbling. Thelma – that’s my wife – used to complain I spent too much time out in my den. It was only the garage, but I’d turned it into a lab. Helped me cope with the pressure of all those businesses. Once a scientist, always a scientist, but then you’d understand that, right?’
Sadie just smiled.
‘Ahh, yes, those years were the best. Little Peter always wanted to help me, always wanted to be involved, but he was quite an accident-prone young lad, always breaking things and knocking things over. Found him using my expensive equipment to make his own concoction once. Had to lock the lab door in the end.’
‘Well, he seems to have turned out fine.’
‘More credit to his mother than to me, really.’ Bill looked skywards. ‘You see, Thelma, Peter’s all down to you!’ He chuckled and sipped some of his wine. ‘No, I was too busy selling Frish. Just making enough to sell locally to our friends. We had queues around the block back in the day, you know.’
‘Yes, I do know, you were telling me the story when we met at the Awards Ceremony.’ Bill looked blank. ‘Two weeks ago? Where we met? Remember?’ Sadie explained. Surely he remembered, it was only a fortnight ago.
‘Er, oh, yes, yes, of course I do. Occasionally get a bit foggy nowadays, I’m sorry, my dear.’ Bill opened a bottle of Frish and glugged it down.
‘You said they came from far and wide to sample it. Miracle water, you said they called it! You must have been very proud.’
‘I was. It made a lot of people better. But it wasn’t enough to save Thelma.’ Bill gazed into the distance. ‘All the years of hard work to make it all a success. But by the time it was at its peak she was very ill. So Peter and I fulfilled her legacy, took it commercial after she passed on. Built a plant, then another plant. Now we must continue as best we can. We must expand to keep up. “Run before you can walk”, Thelma would have called it. Now we have to find a way to do it properly – that’s where you come in, Sadie.’
‘I hope so. Gosh, you’ve been a busy man, Bill.’
‘Maybe too busy. Life goes by, you know? There’s only so much you can do. Peter fights me. He doesn’t agree, you know, with my offering you the chance to raise the funding we need.’
‘So I gathered.’
‘I’m sorry, Sadie. He is headstrong – only young still. He’s only in charge of the plant, and cannot wait to be in charge of it all. He means well, but he’s in too much of a hurry.’
‘Headstrong kid, huh? I’ve got two of those!’ Bill patted her hand and Sadie felt a pang of missing her kids. She decided not to elucidate. ‘So does that part of him come from you – or his mum?’
‘Me, I’m afraid. Thelma was always the sensible one, a calming influence on both of us.’
‘And who does he look most like?’ Sadie added, keen to distract Bill from a topic that obviously caused him some angst.
‘Ahh, well, you see, neither of us.’
Sadie looked perplexed.
‘It’s not widely known but … we couldn’t have children, in the end. Left it too late, you see. Peter was a special child – chosen by us.’
‘Not from the home?’
‘Yes. It was a natural step. It’s not something he likes to talk about, however. Just like Mr Anderson.’ The old man sighed, and poured some dressing on his salad. ‘They should get on well really.’
‘I’m sorry, what do you mean?’
‘Well, you know, when we found out Mac also grew up in a children’s home, I felt it was fate. Destiny sends us these connections, you know?’
Sadie did her best to swiftly digest what she’d just heard. There’s another surprise – no wonder he showed such affinity with the kids this morning.
‘Like my winning that competition, only to come here and meet you? And having the scientific connections you needed right at that time for the product to be taken seriously?’
‘Exactly, my dear!’ said the old man, and clinked glasses with Sadie.
‘Well, they say everything happens for a reason.’
‘One of my favourite sayings. Oh, you are indeed another kindred spirit, I knew you were. My instincts told me we would work well together. I just wish my son felt the same. He has … ahh, issues. Always has had. Mind you, without that there would be no Frish.’
‘Really?’ asked Sadie, leaning forward and putting her elbows on the table. ‘Tell me more.’
‘He always seemed more calm and in control when he’d drunk enough water instead of rubbishy sodas. We banned them – long before people knew about these things. Then I just kept going till I found a formula he didn’t mind drinking lots of.’
‘Why did you call it Frish?’
‘Frish was what Peter called it. He said it made him feel that way.’
Sadie laughed.
‘Said he’d never ever felt “frish” when he was at the children’s home. Made me and his mother laugh. And the name stuck.’
‘Well, I think it’s the name of a toilet cleaner back home,’ she joked, making Bill laugh out loud.
‘I’m sure that won’t matter, once our Frish is as big as we’re hoping it will be. If Peter has his way it’ll take over the world.’
‘Does Peter ever go back to the home? To help out?’
‘Never. He has been too busy, what with his science degree he’s continuously studying for. Or that’s what he calls it – studying. I think he’s been a bit too distracted by the trappings of success. You need to be dedicated, like me. Like you, Sadie.’
‘Thank you, Bill. If nothing else, I’m dedicated for sure.’
‘If only Peter were too. But he is a good boy. Most of the time, anyway.’ Bill’s eyes clouded over a little. His half-hearted attempt at eating a forkful of salad was interrupted by a call from across the lunch hall.
‘Father, there you are!’
‘Talk of the devil.’ The old man winked at Sadie. ‘Thank you, Sadie. You are a good listener.’
‘Anytime,’ she said, and briefly placed her hand over his.
Peter rushed over to join them both and made a great show of signalling to the pretty waitresses. He put a bottle with a red label prominently on the table in front of his father, who picked it up and examined it, then put it back down again.
‘My usual, please, Huaka, my darling,’ Peter said loudly, reading from her name tag.
‘I’m sorry, sir, and what might your usual be, please?’ the girl replied.
‘The same as you ordered me yesterday. Don’t you remember? Kalua pig with cabbage.’
‘Apologies, sir. I was not here yesterday. But I will bring it for you as soon as possible and I will remember in the future.’
‘Too right you will! Or I will be having a word with the new management,’ Peter snapped.
The poor girl took his drinks order, refilled Bill and Sadie’s water glasses, and left.
‘Excuse me, Sadie, may I have a word with my son,’ said Bill. And he stood to one side but not so far away that Sadie could not hear what was going on. Sadie made a great play of sorting out the walnuts from her salad.
‘Peter, there’s no need to be rude,’ she heard Bill saying.
‘Father, you’re too soft. That girl was mistaken – she definitely took my order yesterday.’
‘They are not our staff any longer, remember your place in our community. Her father or brother may work at our water plant – we do not want repercussions from your actions – not again.’ Peter made to reply but Bill held up his hand to finish. ‘Not when we rely on their goodwill to do all the extra hours. Now come eat.’
They re-joined Sadie at the table where she had almost finished her meal. A small pile of walnuts lay on one side of the plate.
‘Apologies, Sadie. We were just talking … shop. I am sorry to interrupt your tête à tête but I had to see my father,’ said Peter, sitting himself down and shuffling his chair a little too close to Sadie’s. ‘I do hope you enjoyed your tour of our plant this morning?’
‘Illuminating,’ replied Sadie. ‘It was just—’
‘Now I must steal my father away,’ he interrupted. ‘I have something to show him and I’m sure you must have preparations to make for this afternoon’s meeting.’
Cross at being so thoroughly dismissed but unable to do anything about it, Sadie said her goodbyes. He was right, there was a very important meeting to prepare for – and a certain person to track down. But no matter where she looked, or who she asked, Mac was nowhere to be found. So in the end Sadie gave up and, feeling just a little bit frustrated returned to her room and went through her own notes one more time to double check her new proposals – the ones she was planning to go over with Mac, had he deigned to show his face – then went to freshen up. It was nearly time for the meeting.
Outside the boardroom the mood was tense. The mahogany doors were tightly shut – but they should have been opened twenty minutes ago. Mac was late, as usual, and Sadie – now in her best suit again, minus the killer heels – was pacing a little. The other members of Mac’s team had arrived, and were talking in a low hum. She approached a small group of them.
‘Are you well, Miss Turner?’ asked Graham, turning towards her, his garish green tie the first thing that caught her eye.
‘It’s … Oh, just call me Sadie,’ she said. ‘Yes, very well thanks. Any idea what’s keeping us? It’s twenty past three, isn’t it?’
‘When? Now? Oh, yes it is. Three twenty two precisely. Yes, they are running a little late. No idea why I’m afraid, we just turn up with our due diligence and reports as requested, and just wait till we’re called.’
‘Thanks.’
‘But maybe Alexis will know something more.’
That’s all I need.
Sadie turned and was met with yet another cover girl creation. This time perfect hair and perfect teeth combined with pink lipstick and matching nail varnish and tailored pink shift dress. Sleeveless, natch. And if she wasn’t mistaken, it looked like Alexis had been sunbathing a little. Or surfing … Sadie tried to blame the pang she felt in her stomach on nerves.
Sadie raised her chin to signal hello, and smiled.
‘Oh, hello, Miss Turner. Simon’s emailed me over some new projections. I’ve taken the liberty of adding them to your PowerPoint. FrishCo have already been given them to study in advance of the meeting at Mac’s request. Simon said to tell you the proposals your friend emailed at lunchtime for the university studies were spot on. Timing-wise, it dovetails neatly into our three-year plan. Simon’s added the new costing to the forecast.’
‘Oh, but I would have happily added those—’
‘You weren’t around. I did knock on your room, but I figured you’d need all the time available to get yourself ready. It’s not a problem, honestly, that’s what I’m here for. Here’s your copy to bring you up to speed.’
‘You’ve been busy.’
‘Yes, a woman’s work is never done. Ha-ha.’ And she swept off across to the rest of the team.
Sadie smiled curiously. She still felt like she’d been stung, but at least Alexis was a bit more friendly. Maybe she’d given up scoring points and this was her attempt at some female bonding.
Soon after the big doors to the boardroom opened finally and the group were beckoned inside. Some of them stopped in surprise.
At the far end, Mac stood already in deep conversation with the Galloways – both father and son – and seemed to be even less relaxed than when she’d last seen him. He didn’t look up. Alexis joined them, to Sadie’s displeasure, and handed a blue file to Mac. Soon everyone was seated around the table and the crucial talks began.
Two hours later, Sadie had done her part, Mac had put up a splendid show of solidarity, he and the team providing an utterly convincing case as to why the contract could only work with MCA, including one vital ingredient – Sadie.
Sadie had sat through all of it swinging like a pendulum – one moment wanting to give him a piece of her mind for neglecting her, and the next, wanting to wrap her arms around him for being so imposing, so commanding, so impressive.
Giving her a big build-up, he’d then handed over to Sadie to present her brief summary of the latest business plan, including all the newly updated research proposals and, vitally, their impact on the likely future success of the marketing campaigns. Everyone leaned forward and you could hear a pin drop as they all sat hanging on her every word, as she listed the claims the company would be able to make just as soon as the studies were published. Claims that would indeed – if they came off – be not only groundbreaking, but should hit the headlines around the world. That’s when the fun would start.
‘So the full trials should concur with the confidential pilot test results – they should show that blood plasma volume reverts to normal arou
nd sixteen times faster than it does compared to giving dehydrated athletes ordinary mineral or tap water. And as we all know, an optimally hydrated athlete is a winning athlete.’
A small murmur went round the room.
‘Then, every competitive sportsman in the world will be looking for a steady supply of Frish. And those tests can begin within three weeks of the contract being signed, according to my contacts in the UK sports science departments in all three major universities. They’re clearing their decks as we speak.’
‘And MCA’s “NewCo” will be there, fully funded, to push through those studies, and to make sure the world has its supply line,’ added Mac. His voice was strong, controlled, but something in his eyes was amiss.
The meeting came to a close, but instead of massive handshaking and popping champagne, instead of much back-slapping and a joyful buzz, there was a dull stillness in the air, an odd lack of oxygen she could only liken to the calm before a rainstorm.
No hearty handshakes? Does that mean no deal? What on earth was going on?
‘Thank you, gentlemen, ladies,’ Peter Galloway said, standing up in place of his father to bring the meeting to a close. Sadie looked over to Bill Galloway. His face was downcast, he had a faraway look in his eyes. What on earth had happened since lunch, merely two hours ago?
Peter then announced grandly and dramatically that the decision ‘whether to go ahead with MCA’s proposal’ would be made within the next twenty-four hours.
Whether to go ahead? What the hell …?
‘So enjoy the facilities until then, and we’ll reconvene this time tomorrow afternoon.’ He didn’t even look over at his father, not for confirmation, not a smile, nothing.
Something definitely had not gone according to plan.
She could see it in Mac’s stance, the wooden way he was shaking hands. It had to be connected with the sudden appearance of Tremain on today of all days, and she narrowed her eyes recalling Mac’s reluctance to talk about it. She watched as Mac turned away, talking quietly on his mobile. Then she picked her moment to go join him.