Cain's Redemption

by A J Chamberlain

  “Evil has always masqueraded as cool,” said Aiden casually. “It always will.”

  “Well it makes me angry!” she shouted.

  “I know it makes you angry,” said Aiden, ”and hat’s why I work with you, because you get passionate about this stuff and you are trying your best to do something about it.” He picked up the sheet of accounts and waved it at her.

  “Whatever you might think,” he continued, “this is not the only thing I care about, it’s not even the most important thing I care about. None of the numbers mean anything without the vision behind them, and that’s you; pulling it together, making it happen. I do understand what you are trying to do here.”

  “I know you understand,” she said, “I know you do, I think that’s why I am shouting at you.”

  “I trust you Alex; that’s enough. Really it is.”

  “Is it though?” she said. “It won’t be enough when the money runs out.”

  He looked at her and smiled.

  “That’s where you have to trust me.” He waved the papers in his hand again.

  “Yes, of course,” she said.

  “So what do you want to call it?” he continued. “What’s this new name you want for the company?”

  “I want something light. I want a name that speaks hope and joy, and warmth.”

  “Okay,” said Aiden, “we’d better start thinking then.”

  “We don’t need to,” said Alex. “I know what I want to call the company: I want to call it Summer Media and Entertainment, or just ‘Summer’ for short.”

  Aiden nodded. “If that’s what you want to do, you’ve got my vote.”

  She noticed he didn’t say any more about rebranding costs and she was grateful; that was a conversation for another day.

  He finished scribbling some figures on the paper in front of him and handed it to her.

  “Here’s where we are with the money,” he said.

  She scanned through the numbers, looking for something that would tell her how quickly they were burning through their reserves.

  “So how long have we got?” she said.

  “If things stay as they are, we’ve got about six months, maybe seven or eight at the absolute limit if we ration the marketing spend. Of course, that’s worst case. If Conner’s album goes platinum, or he picks up a couple of million followers on social media, we could be just fine.”

  They both smiled, but it was clear where things were.

  “If we forget about the hopelessly optimistic scenarios,” she said, “how are really doing ?”

  “If things stay as they are,” said Aiden, “by the summer we’ll be finished.”

  “Okay, thank you.”

  “But then there’s always Daisy’s fashion line,” he said, smiling, “although that’s another case of spending money in the hope that we might make some one day in the future.”

  He got a copy of the report that Daisy had prepared for them on her ethically sourced fashion line. It was still at the early stages, more a collection of bold colours and lines than actual stock to be sold.

  “These are brilliant though,” said Alex.

  “Indeed, they are,” said Aiden, “but like every other part of your business at the moment, Alex, she needs the funds to make it work.”

  “I know,” said Alex. “Let’s see what she has to offer us today.”

  Before either of them said anything else, the door swung open and Caleb Wicks walked in; he was halfway through a conversation with them even as he placed his worn leather briefcase on the table.

  “The traffic! Alex my dear, you will have to remind me why we meet here in the middle of town, where there is nowhere to park.” He paused and stared at them both. “Oh, excuse me, Aiden. Good morning to both of you, how are you?”

  “Very well thank you, Caleb.” Alex smiled and moved the seat next to her out from the table.

  He sat in the chair, and rubbed at his shoulder muscles, trying to relieve the stress of the journey.

  “Maybe you should take the train, or the bus in?” said Alex as Caleb reached into his bag.

  “What?” said Caleb. “Oh, perhaps you are right.” He paused. “The car is a habit and probably a bad one, especially when there are better, greener ways to travel.”

  “You said it,” said Alex.

  “I’ll look at the options,” said Caleb, and turned to Aiden. “I must say you look a little peaky, my dear fellow; are the company figures keeping you up too late at night?”

  “I think you know the answer to that one,” said Aiden, with a rueful smile.

  “Oh dear, well that is rather unfortunate. You need to get an early night. Mrs Wicks and I always feel the benefit of an early night. Anyway, is the kettle on?”

  “We don’t do the kettle here, Caleb,” said Alex. “We have a hot water dispenser.”

  Caleb frowned.

  “May the good Lord preserve me from hot water,” he said gently. “No one can make a proper cup of tea with hot water. Well never mind.”

  Caleb was just taking his coat off when the door jumped open and Lewis and Daisy burst in, laughing at some private joke. Daisy carried a bundle of papers, and was dressed as ever in her skinny jeans and bright tee shirt. Alex marvelled at how Daisy could be so very thin and yet not seem to feel the cold. Lewis meanwhile looked every inch the civilized gent at leisure, in his corduroys and tweed jacket.

  “Hello, you two.” Caleb smiled at them. “Are you joining us today, Lewis?”

  “The boss wanted me in for this one,” said Lewis, nodding at Alex, and then he winked at Daisy who smirked back at him.

  “There would be no point in me persuading Lewis to join us,” said Alex, “and then not using the benefit of his wisdom.”

  Lewis laughed. “I don’t think anyone has ever called me wise before, but remember, I’m more your music mogul type than a fashion guru.”

  “I know,” said Alex, “but all the same you might say something wise.”

  He laughed again. “We’ll see.”

  With everyone present, they filed into the boardroom and took their seats. Daisy hooked up her laptop to the projector and stood at the front, fidgeting with a pen.

  “Okay,” said Alex, “thank you all for coming in, especially to you, Lewis; I suspect we have taken you away from the golf course today.”

  “For you, Alex, I will miss a few rounds,” he said, smiling.

  “I’m very grateful,” said Alex. “As you all know, Daisy is presenting her fashion range ideas today. She is doing so not only with my permission, but also with my encouragement.” She stopped, letting this comment sink in; she wanted them all to know that she, the boss, was behind this one.

  “Daisy believes we can tap into the growing market for garments manufactured with fairly traded materials and made by fairly paid workers. That will be part of the appeal and branding for these items. I don’t want to preempt what she has to say so without any further delay, Daisy, over to you.”

  Alex reached over and dimmed the lights, wondering if Daisy felt as nervous as she did.

  * * *

  In fact, Daisy did feel as nervous as Alex, and more. This wasn’t just one of her good ideas; her work with SLaM was her dream now, and this presentation contained all of her most precious ambitions. After all that had happened, after all the support she had received, Daisy wanted to work with these people, but this was work she wanted to do, this wasn’t merely a presentation for her, this was her heart and blood and soul.

  The first slide flicked up and she started.

  “So this is it. This is how we’re going to take the fashion dimension of SLaM to a whole new level.”

  As she said the word “SLaM” Aiden glanced at Alex, and raised an eyebrow.

  Alex shook her head, now was not he moment to talk about a change in the company name.

  Images and designs flicked up onto the wall. Collectively they represented a huge step on from the tried and trusted collection of branded merchandise they ha
d been selling. This was a whole wardrobe of styles, designs and colours, and as she progressed with her presentation, Daisy felt the fear inside her turn to excitement.

  “I want to bring a diverse, international feel to our collection, both in terms of the materials and style.”

  “Gracious, I didn’t know we were going have a collection,” said Caleb without any trace of irony. “This is wonderful.”

  “Why shouldn’t we have a collection, Uncle C?” Daisy smiled.

  Caleb leant over to Alex.

  “Did she just call me, Uncle C?” he whispered.

  “I believe so,” said Alex, trying to keep a straight face.

  Daisy flicked up another image. “This cheongsam is a good example of the kind of thing I want to see us produce.”

  “Excuse me, what is a ‘cheongsam’?” asked Caleb.

  “This represents the more formal aspects of what could become our portfolio,” said Daisy. “As you can see, a cheongsam is a tight-fitting silk dress, it originated in Shanghai in the 1920s.”

  “Fascinating,” said Caleb, steepling his fingers.

  Daisy continued with her presentation, and Alex tasted the adrenaline in her throat. Was this working? Did they like what they were seeing?

  Daisy came to the heart of her presentation with a series of designs that, unlike the previous ones, contained almost no colour at all. Most of them were simple pencil or ink drawings so they gave only the impression of a garment, lacking the substance of firm contours and colour.

  “I am also working on some designs for tabards, waistcoats and jerkins. These are at the heart of the whole collection. I know what I want these garments to look like; I just need to find the right material. The right texture and colours.” She paused, letting them ponder on her words.

  “I have been wondering how to integrate all this with what you want to do here.” She glanced briefly at Alex. “And I want to find materials that tell a story, a God story you might call it. So, for example, if I can find a material that in its own environment speaks of God’s creation, I could use that. All of these items will have to be integrated with the SLaM branding of course. But that, everyone, is the vision I want to turn into a reality for us.”

  Daisy finished her presentation and Alex brought up the lights. Lewis and Caleb blinked at each other.

  “So, where do we go with this now?” said Alex, picking up the discussion and directing the question at Daisy.

  “I need to find some materials, and there is only one place to do it.”

  “Really, and where is that?” said Caleb.

  “Paris,” said Daisy firmly. “Première Vision. It’s the world’s foremost design materials event. The next one will be in a few weeks’ time. I need to go there if I am going to pursue this the way I want to.”

  She took some sheets of paper from her bag.

  “Here is a summary of my proposal to the board, in writing.” She handed out the papers and then she smiled at Aiden. “All the likely costs have been stated.”

  “Thanks, Daisy,” said Alex. “Has anyone got any questions?”

  No one responded, and Alex wasn’t sure if they were amazed, unconvinced, or just bemused by the whole thing.

  “Thank you Daisy,” said Alex, “that was an inspiration. You had better give us a few minutes talk it through now,” she said to Daisy.

  “Okay, well I’ll be in that café over the road,” said Daisy. She got to her feet and hurried out of the door. She felt as if she had just revealed the deepest, most personal part of herself to them; exposing herself to their judgement. She could not have done this two years ago, but still the whole situation made her feel nervous and angry in a way she could not quite explain.

  Even as she was walking out, the old nerves and the old condemnation rose in her.

  They won’t like it, they won’t understand it, she thought.

  Or they’ll like it but there won’t be any money. They’ll say lovely things about it all and tell me to come back another time, next year, or two years, or never.

  By the time she reached the café she was even more convinced that it wasn’t going to happen. She wasn’t even sure now if she wanted to do this project with them.

  “Maybe that’s not such a bad thing,” she whispered to herself as she hovered outside the door and reached for her cigarettes, “maybe that’s not so bad after all.”

  The meeting room door closed and no one said anything; the only sound was the hum of the projector fan.

  Finally, Alex broke the silence:

  “I want to know what you think, your honest opinion. You all received a copy of Daisy’s proposal in your briefing pack. Basically, she is asking for more time within her current role to develop this project together with her existing merchandise responsibilities. Additionally, she is asking for some budget to go to this Première Vision show and buy some fabric samples.”

  She looked at them, each one in turn, trying to decide which one to ask first.

  “What do you think, Caleb?” She hoped her old friend would see how important it was to give Daisy a chance now.

  “Oh, it’s wonderful, wonderful!” he said, waving a hand in the air. “She is such a talent.”

  Alex nodded, and smiled.

  “But,” continued Caleb, “I do wonder if we have the money for it right now. Perhaps it’s something for next year? We are rather stretched at the moment financially and I fear that if we said yes it might give Aiden even more sleepless nights. I think what she has here is wonderful, and we must do it, I am just not sure if now is the right time.”

  Then he added as if as an afterthought:

  “The thing is, she will be expecting us to say ‘no’ so we must say ‘not yet, but it will happen’. We cannot let her lose heart.”

  Alex nodded and turned to Lewis. “What do you think?”

  “Well, of course this could be a great idea. It’s very exciting, there’s lots of energy in this thing. Daisy is brimming with talent but my instinct would be to put the company’s money into the music project, and focus her on the standard merchandising for now. Like Caleb said, promise it all to her next year, you know. Now, I know you guys have a different approach to me, not just the profit motive and all that; so you might want to play it differently, but I’m for saying ‘no’ or ‘not yet’.”

  “Whether we do it now or next year, do you think it would work? Can we make money on this?” said Alex, still facing him.

  “Eventually, yes,” he said, “a lot of people want their tea and coffee to be fairly traded; maybe enough of them want their clothes fairly traded as well. As for the money, I wouldn’t give all this a second thought if my instinct said go for it,” he gestured to the figures in front of him, “but you people don’t want to fly by the seat of your pants in quite the same way we used to. Bottom line: great idea but you need to be cautious now.”

  Alex felt the frustration welling up inside her. She had hoped that at least one of the two of them would be supportive of Daisy’s plan, and push for them to give her the green light, right now. She’d wanted at least one of them to say as much before she turned to Aiden. During the presentation he’d kept glancing back to the figures, and she wasn’t sure how much notice he had taken of what Daisy said.

  “Aiden?” Her tone was unnecessarily sharp, as if she were accusing him of something, and she could just see Caleb raise an eyebrow in her direction.

  Aiden looked up from the numbers. “Of course we she let her do it. And she must do it now, this year not next year. What were you all thinking, talking about next year? If you tell her that, she’ll leave, and it will never get done, and everyone will miss the opportunity.”

  He said it as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, and they all stared at him.

  Aiden looked back to his numbers, and then he glanced up again.

  “Anyone disagree?” he said.

  Alex burst out laughing, and Lewis shook his head.

  “I should have hired you as my a
ccountant five years ago!” said Lewis. “You’re as crazy as the rest of us.”

  “I mean it.” Aiden was the only one in the room not smiling. “We need to give her our full support, now. If we wait, that talent will be lost to SLaM forever. And just for the record, I don’t think we are going to be calling ourselves SLaM for much longer, are we, Alex?”

  Everyone looked at Alex and her eyes widened, she sat forward.

  “Right, no we’re not,” she said, surprised at Aiden’s revelation. “We’re going to rebrand.”

  “Are we?” said Lewis.

  “Yes,” said Alex, “but that’s a conversation for another time. Let’s focus on Daisy’s work. I agree with Aiden, we should approve it now.”

  “Well maybe this is God’s wisdom,” said Caleb. “Alex, I wonder if we might pray around this for a couple of minutes. Please do bear with us, Lewis.”

  “You guys carry on,” said Lewis. “I’m going to go outside for a smoke. For what it’s worth I think you should go for it, it will be fun to see how this unfolds, but then of course it’s not my money.”

  He got up and looked at them all.

  “I confess,” he said, “I thought you Christians were a timid bunch, but maybe you’ve got some drive and passion after all.”

  “I’ll take that as a compliment,” said Alex, “thanks.”

  Lewis chuckled to himself as he left, clutching a packet of cigars and a lighter.

  The directors of Summer, as it would come to be known, bowed their heads and prayed.

  In the same physical space, angelic beings, the emissaries of the Lord, turned in their own way to prayer. There was one for each person present, and some others, filling the room with unseen light, each of them going about their divine business.

  Angel stood in the room listening to it all. The decision to sponsor Daisy now was the correct one; and this moment of prayer would help to ensure that the decision had the necessary spiritual grounding, and was handled in the right way. From Angel’s perspective the humans in the room seemed to look brighter, achieving a kind of dazzling clarity as they prayed, as if Angel had been looking at them all through a dusty window, which had now been flung open.