Under New Management

by June Hopkins

  “Oh Mollie, don’t be such a spoilsport. He’s entitled to be a little excited. You don’t get offers like this every day,” Lindy admonishes her as she smiles fondly at the bouncing Jim.

  “Whooohooo!” shouts Jim in his best Homer Simpson mimic.

  Mollie sighs and shakes her head. She leaves the room and heads for the kitchen to make a cup of tea; there is only so much she can take. Her parents, in their excitement of the readies heading their way, have not even given her lack of employment a second thought.

  Mollie flings her plated up curry and rice into the microwave and switches it on. She is starving. It is eight o’clock and she hasn’t eaten since lunch time.

  She vacantly breaks off a piece of poppadom out of the packet and dips it into the open jar of mango chutney, while staring out of the window at the dark garden.

  Maybe she should go travelling? Not that she has any money until David pays up, but she could plan for it, or perhaps the promised redundancy package would be enough. Maybe Australia or Malaysia or any place ending with ‘ia’. Yea that was it; she could join one of those singles package tours. They probably had a whale of a time, lots of like-minded people, free of responsibilities chilling out together in hot sweaty countries. She could do that.

  The microwave pings. She absentmindedly reaches for a discarded tea towel using it to protect her hand while she rescues her steaming dinner. Great, now it’s too hot to actually eat. Fork at the ready, she sits at the table and lets her mind wander again. She could set up her own on-line business as a consultant, offering advice on how to run a country estate. That’s bound to get loads of hits. Or perhaps open a farm shop. She’d really tried to persuade the Sedgwicks to open one, convinced that all that organic veg and meat from their own farm would have been a money spinner. She sighs deeply and cautiously tests the temperature of the curry. It’s manageable so she tucks in, carefully blowing on the full fork before putting it into her mouth.

  Mollie manages to get through half the curry before her dad barges into her sanctuary. “Come on Molls. Grab your coat, we’re off to the pub. Dan’s meeting us there and I want to see his face when I tell him.”

  Mollie looks up from her plate horrified, “Oh no Dad, no. You can’t tell Dan in the pub, no way!”

  “What? Don’t be ridiculous, he’s your brother! He’ll be made up. I’m not missing out on a golden opportunity like this, no chance!” Jim now looks equally horrified.

  “Dad, what bit of ‘the staff and tenants don’t know yet’ did you not understand? You cannot announce this in the pub tonight. Tomorrow night maybe, if you get the contract, but definitely not tonight.” Mollie is adamant and Jim’s face falls.

  Sulkily he slams himself down onto a kitchen chair and taps out a tattoo on the table top. “I suppose you’re right girl, but God, how irritating.” Jim is rubbish at keeping secrets or surprises. Since they were kids he constantly spoiled birthdays and Christmases by letting slip what they were getting. Even when they still believed in Father Christmas he would pre-warn them and make out that FC had written confirming delivery. It drove Lindy insane and always cost them so much more as she would have to buy extra gifts to make sure they had at least some surprises. Although from the kids point of view it had always worked in their favour, so they weren’t that bothered.

  Mollie continues to tuck into her curry ignoring the tapping fingers. She isn’t sighing with relief just yet. Tapping fingers always meant that he was thinking, and thinking wasn’t always a good sign.

  While Mollie tries to eat as much food as quickly as possible, Lindy goes off to find her shoes. Jim had said ‘pub’ and he was taking her whether he could spill the beans or not. She needed to get sorted quickly and get him out of the house before he really started sulking and changed his mind.

  Unfortunately for Lindy when she arrived back in the kitchen Jim had come up with another plan. Lindy was never one for just grabbing one thing and leaving, there was always a full accompaniment of extras which quickly needed to be seen to. Tidying hair and makeup, changing into a different top, which goes better with her other trousers etc? Lindy had been gone for twenty minutes, during which time Jim had phoned Dan and ordered him to get round to the house pronto.

  Lindy literally skips back into the kitchen with a, “Ta-daaah!”

  She looks great, all blonde swishing hair and makeup. Lindy still has a great figure. She looks like she could have stepped straight off of ‘The Only Way is Essex’ set. Mollie looks like her mother. They are both blonde with heart shaped faces, but Mollie has Jim’s longer nose, while Lindy’s nose is dainty. They both have bright blue eyes, quite startling blue eyes some would say, but Lindy has a pale complexion; a real peaches and cream English rose. Mollie has darker skin like her father. Jim, Mollie and Dan in fact all enjoy fabulous sun tans in the summer without trying. This annoys Lindy as she has to shell out an awful lot of money to enjoy the same.

  Lindy is the same age as Jim. They met at school and had Dan when they were eighteen, and Mollie came along a year later. They have been together ever since and are perfectly happy with one another. A rare situation in this day and age but happy they are. Their birthdays are both in February, Lindy’s on the ninth and Jim’s on the twentieth, and what a joint Fiftieth they have planned!

  Jim is shocked to see Lindy bound into the kitchen looking gorgeous and ready for a night out. He hadn’t even noticed she’d disappeared. Bloody hell this would mean some grovelling.

  Switching on his full-on charm offensive he turns the full force on his pissed off wife. “Sorry love,” her face falls at his words. “Dan’s coming round with Julie and we can have a few drinks to celebrate. At least I can still give him the good news and we can have a look through next week’s work, see what we can put on hold. Please love, don’t be angry.” He turns his puppy dog eyes on to full power and gazes soulfully at her.

  Lindy sighs loudly, she can’t resist him when he does that and well he knows.

  “It’s your own fault Mum, you should have been quicker,” Mollie informs her helpfully over her shoulder as she loads the dishwasher.

  Lindy slumps down onto a kitchen chair sulkily. “Bloody hell Jim, I was looking forward to going out, I’ve got changed and everything.”

  “I know love and you look beautiful, but I want to tell Dan and Mollie won’t let me tell him in the pub. You don’t mind do you? I promise I’ll take you out tomorrow properly, you could even go shopping and buy a new outfit, and after all, we’ll really be celebrating then, won’t we?”

  Mollie shakes her head. Typical Dad doesn’t even know if he’s got the job but that won’t dampen his enthusiasm. He’s not daft. If it isn’t in the bag now, it will be by this time tomorrow.

  Chapter 6

  A week later, dragging herself half-heartedly into work at six o’clock in the morning, Mollie mentally prepares herself for the final day. She has her work cut out this morning with last minute removals and organising the final clean up of the Hall. The Sedgwicks have arranged a leaving party in one of the barns, which ensures that any mess is confined and kept away from the house.

  They have pulled out all the stops with the decor, catering, a free bar, band and disco. All of the employees and their families will attend, together with the tenants and various important figures from the town: the Mayor and the entire town council, the Bank Manager, Doctor, Vicar and, unfortunately, the local Community Policeman; the infamous Kevin, (though Mollie doesn’t believe for one minute that Kevin will show his face) not to mention family and friends of the Sedgwick’s and, most importantly, the new owners. They will be using the opportunity to gain some good PR with the local community.

  The staff have to work until midday when a special leaving lunch will be served by caterers. The lunch is to be taken with the family as a thank you for their employees’ hard work over the years.

  As the contracts should go through later today and the keys will be handed over, the Sedgwicks will spend tonight at the Hall as g
uests of the new owners. The move to London will be completed tomorrow.

  The party is due to kick off at six thirty, with every last detail worked out like a military manoeuvre, and Mollie has been at the forefront. She had been pulled from pillar to post for the entire working week and is shattered. Everyone seemed to have bigger, brighter ideas, demanding this and that: from the movement of furniture to the cleaning of the rooms, maintenance of the building and monitoring the caterers and designers at the barn. They had all been working twelve hour days. The rest of the staff had been stressed to high heaven as Mollie continually revised her instructions.

  Inwardly she had raged at the ridiculousness of a week’s timescale to pull off such a huge project. The number of people brought in to fulfill the target was utterly mad. At least Lord Sedgwick had offered the maintenance contract at a vast sum to her dad, if he could complete the works in a week.

  Jim and Dan, an electrician by trade, own the business imaginatively named, ‘J Brown and Son’. Jim had cheerfully pulled his ten tradesmen off their other jobs for the week and drafted in some subbies to complete the contract. Offers of that sort of money didn’t come along every day and the lads were more than happy to work flat out and long hours for a week to earn triple pay. They were all gagging for it.

  Jim had virtually skipped around the Hall the previous Saturday, full building survey in hand, tallying up the seemingly endless number of jobs and working out the materials. He loved a challenge and this was certainly a challenge. ‘Nick Knowles’ would be proud. Jim had been careful to ensure there would be no penalty for unfinished jobs given the scale of the project. He wasn’t falling for that one, although Lady Sedgwick had tried to enforce it. She had bitten off more than they could chew in one week and Jim lost no time in explaining that to her in no uncertain terms. She didn’t intimidate him.

  To her husband’s intense relief Lady Sedgwick had eventually listened to reason and agreed that Jim would complete as many of the jobs as possible. Any unfinished work would incur a penalty from the McLaren Group, but that was her own fault; had she given a realistic timescale they wouldn’t have a problem. She couldn’t have it all.

  Mollie had mentally tallied up the cost of the repairs and the party, and even given the extraordinary sum that was being paid out, it was merely a drop in the ocean compared to the millions of pounds being paid by the McLaren Group for the estate. That being the case, Mollie didn’t feel bad about her father and brother making a few quid and it wasn’t as if they weren’t breaking their backs to get as much done as possible. They might be a lot of things, but they weren’t freeloaders, they liked to earn their money.

  The whole party in the barn thing had not been thrown into the mix until Tuesday morning. Lord and Lady Sedgwick’s daughter, Florence (Florrie to her friends) had tracked down Mollie in the master bathroom.

  Florrie had stunned Mollie with her vision of the party to end all parties. She had assured Mollie that the entire thing would be managed by her and her mother and that she would only need to help with a few teensy weensy bits and pieces. Yea, right!

  Mollie could only stare at her glassy eyed as she was regaled with the details, right down to the fabulous firework display at the end of the evening. On hearing that Florrie’s theme was to be the Wild West, Mollie had made the mistake of innocently asking her about whether or not guests should wear fancy dress, as it was rather short notice to expect them to prepare outfits.

  Apparently not! Florrie had stared at her aghast, as if Mollie had suddenly lifted her leg and farted loudly.

  “Good grief Mollie, I assume you are jesting? Absolutely not, fancy dress is just too tacky, unless it is done correctly. Only the staff will be wearing costumes and I shall see to those myself. God only knows what the locals would grace us with. I most certainly do not want to host a party full of oiks in cheap polyester checked shirts and Stetson hats. Oh no, that is sooo not happening. I expect them to at least make an effort to dress to impress. I’m sure ‘New Look’ or ‘M & S’ has a sale on or something. It shouldn’t be too difficult.” Pulling a face which spoke volumes about the horror of it all and giving an over dramatic shudder, she turned on her Jimmy Choo’s (or whatever was in Vogue at the moment) and left Mollie standing in the bathroom, clutching a towel and grinding her teeth in frustration.

  She had been hard pressed not to shove said towel over Florrie’s plummy gob until she stopped breathing.

  Stupid stuck up little cow that she was, she infuriated Mollie most of the time, but add to the equation her ridiculous demands whilst insulting ‘New Look’ (Mollie loved ‘New Look’) on top of her already packed list of things to do, she was getting perilously close to the last straw. In fact, if it weren’t for the promised redundancy package, Mollie would have told them to stick it and buggered off. Unfortunately, she couldn’t afford that luxury and so she was in fact buggered. She had no choice but to grin (or grimace) and bear it.

  As it turned out, Lady Sedgwick’s idea of converting one of the now empty barns into the venue had not been such a crap idea. One thing you could not fault that woman on was how to throw a party. Lady Evelyn and Florrie were something of a force to be reckoned with. Frankly there wasn’t much they were not capable of as long as the money was available. The barn now looked like something out of ‘Hello’ magazine. It had been completely transformed.

  By the time Mollie had left last night the barn was sporting a dance floor, a stage, chairs and tables, a fully stocked bar, and even an enormous chandelier. The decor did indeed offer the illusion of a Wild West saloon. Mollie was stunned by the transformation - she had no idea you could do so much with MDF and papier-mâché. A top designer had been drafted in and paid a mind boggling sum of money to produce the concept envisioned by Florrie. Every detail had been covered, right down to a specialist lorry complete with luxury toilets which now rested in the field behind the barn, with its own lit-up walkway.

  The Sedgwicks were certainly going out with a bang. By the looks of it, this party would not be forgotten in a very long time.

  Being left with little choice, Mollie had spent the majority of Tuesday afternoon on the phone offering large sums of money to local businesses to ensure they delivered whichever service was required. The band and local DJ both immediately agreed, promising to cancel their other gigs in favour of earning several times the amount of money. Mollie felt terribly guilty and didn’t ask whose birthday, wedding or anniversary she was ruining.

  She also had to use her considerable knowledge of the locals to source staff from the local pubs and hotels anywhere from within a ten-mile radius to make up the numbers of waitresses and bar staff for the caterers.

  She had been allowed to draft in Lindy and her best mate Lou for the week to help her with the organisation.

  Lindy worked part time as a secretary at the local primary school. It was half term, luckily, so Lindy was off work anyway and Lou had managed to take a week’s holiday at short notice from her secretarial job. They had been a couple of miracle workers as well. Mollie would never have achieved everything without their help.

  Mollie is still in the dark about her job after this week. The McLaren Group had not been willing to reach a deal with Lord Sedgwick on the matter. Apparently the only person safe is Mrs Burfoot who is moving to London with the Sedgwicks, which at least saves Lord John from starvation.

  The rest of them are to apparently receive letters, inviting them to interview for their own jobs. Charming.

  Lord John was at pains to impress upon Mollie that he had sung her praises to the McLarens. He assured her that he could not have done more and if they didn’t re-employ her it would be a great loss to their company. Mollie put his mind at rest: she explained that in all honesty she would not be interested in working for the group anyway. She had things she wanted to do and places she wanted to go. She almost convinced herself, but more importantly she is fairly sure that she has convinced Lord John. God knows he deserves some peace of mind in all of this.


  As promised, they had all received generous redundancy packages which would tie them over for at least six months. Because of that generosity, Mollie isn’t overly concerned. She sees it as fate stepping in telling her to reconsider her career. She hasn’t had time to worry too much during the last week. She’ll have plenty of time to consider her options after today. She’s been thinking about moving away if the right job comes up. After all, apart from her family and friends who all have their own lives, what is keeping her here?

  Chapter 7

  At six o’clock on Friday evening, Mollie is in the luxury toilets behind the barn waiting for Lou to finish faffing about in the loo.

  Florrie wasn’t kidding when she said luxury toilets either. Quite frankly Mollie would be happy to move in. How on earth someone had managed to come up with this design in the back of a lorry amazes her.

  On stepping into the room from the cold, they found themselves enveloped in a glorious perfume. A smartly dressed female attendant presented them with a free makeup bag from some designer or other and they were surrounded by opulent furnishings. There was a real tiled floor, ornate mirrors everywhere and gorgeous toiletries. An enormous gold sofa that could sleep four comfortably was in the waiting area. For those planning to spend a bit of time using the facility, a selection of magazines were arranged artistically on a glass coffee table.

  The girls shrieked with excitement and rushed to sit on the plush sofa and open their gifts. They found sample pots of makeup and face creams; there was a lot of “Oh My Godding,” as they rummaged through and swapped lipstick colours.

  The toilet attendant had smiled at them indulgently. She was clearly used to this type of behaviour. No doubt, from the moment they walked in she’d had them pegged as not being in the Sloane set and if she hadn’t, she certainly knew now.