by Penny Avis
‘I see,’ said Derek, rubbing his chin.
‘I’m afraid that as things stand, if I have to pay the increase then the business will go under and I’ll have to move out.’
Daisy quickly ran through all the points that she and Meredith had agreed earlier.
‘So, I hope you can see that I’ve been a pretty good tenant. I’ve never been any trouble and that’s certainly the way I plan to keep it.’
Derek sat back in his chair, scratching his head and then his nose. He sniffed loudly.
‘Not much in it for me, is there?’ he said finally.
‘Well, err… ’ Daisy hesitated, not sure what to say.
‘Look, it’s best for everyone if you can find a way through this,’ Meredith said eventually. ‘The last thing you want is a shop with no tenant. It’s bound to take you a while to find someone else, and then there’s the cost of advertising; time is money and all that.’
‘Not for me, it isn’t. I’ve got people queuin’ up to take my properties,’ said Derek, looking at her smugly.
‘Oh,’ said Meredith. That was one of her best arguments blown. ‘It’s still hassle, though, changing tenants. And you might not get someone as good as Daisy here. She’s paid you every month, on time, like clockwork. And she’s even painted the place for you.’
Derek looked around at the plain white walls dubiously.
‘She’s also working on a very sensible plan to bring in more revenue. She just needs a bit more time.’
‘Who are you, ’er mother?’ said Derek.
‘I’m just trying to help, that’s all.’
There were a few moments of awkward silence as Derek considered his position.
‘I’ll give you three months,’ he said finally.
‘Oh, I was hoping for more like nine months or a year,’ said Daisy, unable to conceal her disappointment.
‘That’s my final word,’ said Derek, getting up.
Meredith opened her mouth to try to persuade him to change his mind but Daisy signalled at her not to bother.
‘Okay, I understand. Thank you for coming to see me anyway. And I’ll keep an eye out for your roofing guys next week,’ said Daisy.
They were all walking towards the front of the gallery when Derek stopped and looked at a large picture sitting on an easel by the wall. It was made up of dozens of small, square pictures of butterflies, bees, moths and other brightly coloured insects, arranged in neat symmetrical lines up and down the canvas.
‘What’s that?’ Derek asked.
‘It’s a commission for one of my clients, for a child’s bedroom,’ said Daisy. ‘Someone who loves bugs apparently.’ She turned to Meredith. ‘You remember Debs from my dinner party, the interior designer? She got the job for me.’
‘Great,’ said Meredith, nodding approvingly. ‘Just the sort of lead you need.’
‘My boy loves bugs,’ said Derek. ‘But that’s a bit fancy pants for us. Can you do those muriel things, you know where you paint straight onto the walls?’
‘Murals,’ corrected Daisy. Meredith stifled a laugh.
‘Yeah, whatever,’ said Derek, frowning. ‘Them.’
‘Yes, I can. I can do anything you like. How old is he?’
‘Six,’ said Derek.
Derek studied the picture, scratching his forearm and then his crotch.
‘It’s his birthday in a couple of weeks. If you paint me a bug picture on his wall – and he likes it, mind – then I’ll give you six months.’
Meredith, who was standing behind Derek, shook her head and raised the flat of her hand upwards.
‘My paintings sell for quite a few hundred pounds each,’ said Daisy. ‘A whole wall’s got to be worth at least nine months.’
Meredith nodded approvingly.
‘Yeah, when you sell ’em,’ Derek pointed out.
‘Nine months and you have deal,’ said Daisy, ignoring his jibe.
‘Alright, done. But only if he likes it. If he doesn’t, you’ll be painting the walls back plain.’
‘I’ll do him a sketch first, so he can check it’s exactly what he wants. I promise he’ll love it,’ said Daisy.
‘He will,’ agreed Meredith. ‘She’s bloody brilliant.’
Derek smiled begrudgingly. ‘Well, get going selling some more stuff then, so you can start paying the proper rent.’
‘In nine months’ time,’ said Daisy firmly.
‘Yeah, alright, in nine months’ time,’ said Derek, rolling his eyes.
‘Well, that didn’t go exactly to plan,’ said Meredith once Derek had left. ‘I’m so sorry. None of my ideas did any good at all. He was a tough nut to crack.’
‘It’s not your fault. At least we got there in the end. Even if it does mean I’ve got to go and paint his bloody kid’s bedroom.’
‘I feel a new line of work coming on for you…’
‘You can forget that. I’m a proper artist, not some half-baked nursery painter,’ said Daisy crossly.
‘’Course you are,’ said Meredith, grinning. ‘Right, I need to go home and get some sleep. I’m meeting the lady doing the art commission for our training centre tomorrow.’
‘Let’s hope she doesn’t want butterflies too.’
‘I doubt it,’ said Meredith, ‘but you never know.’
Meredith stood in the foyer of the Clinton Wahlberg training centre waiting for Vivien Sherwood to arrive. Meredith wondered whether she would know who Vivien was, but she needn’t have worried. It was apparent from the second Vivien walked through the door. She had a bluntly cut bob of dark hair that hung low across her heavily blackened eyes and she was wearing a brightly pattered suit that reminded Meredith of a Chinese vase, with a deliberately clashing striped scarf trailing to one side. She came rushing up to Meredith with her arm outstretched.
‘Vivien Sherwood, brand enrichment manager. Delighted to meet you.’
‘Meredith Romaine. Thanks so much for meeting me. Hopefully I won’t need much of your time, but as I mentioned in my email, I have a contact who’d like to be considered for the art commission for this building – which is lovely, by the way,’ said Meredith, looking around.
‘Yes, it is fabulous. The light is amazing, especially in this foyer.’
‘Were you involved in the design?’
‘Oh yes, from day one. We build our brand one brick at a time,’ said Vivien with a dramatic flourish.
Meredith decided not to remind her that Clinton Wahlberg was, in fact, a people business and not a shopping centre.
‘So I thought perhaps if you could give me an idea of what you’re looking for then I can brief my contact, make sure that she doesn’t waste your time.’
‘Certainly. Shall we start in here?’
‘Great.’ Meredith put her briefcase on the reception desk and took out a notepad and pen. She followed Vivien as she walked into the middle of the foyer.
‘For starters, we’re looking for a central sculpture,’ said Vivien.
‘Okay. What sort of size?’ Meredith looked up at the ceiling. There was a central section of flat roof surrounded by a concentric series of roof lights.
‘That’s for the artist to decide. The most important thing is that it reflects our brand values.’
‘Oh, right,’ said Meredith, rather bemused by the lack of specific instructions. ‘Can you, er, just remind me what they are? I haven’t been here that long.’
Vivien frowned at her. ‘Oh dear, that’s not very good. Excellence in all that we do, personal innovation, a three-hundred-and-sixty degree approach… ’
‘Oh yes, all that stuff,’ said Meredith. ‘It’s on the website. That’s okay, I’ll look it up. Thanks.’
Vivien looked equally unamused at her use of the word ‘stuff’. Meredith bit her lip. Not the best start.
‘Right, so a central sculpture in here. Anything else?’
‘Well, that will depend on what the sculpture is. There’s obviously the opportunity to have something contrastingly reflective
in the large area behind the reception desk.’
Meredith didn’t dare ask what that meant, so she just wrote ‘contrastingly reflective – WTF?’ in big letters on her notepad next to a rectangle and hoped that it would make sense to Daisy.
‘Okay, where next?’
‘The travel channels, I think,’ said Vivien.
It took Meredith a few moments to work out that Vivien was actually referring to the long corridors that criss-crossed the building.
‘So will all the travel channels require pictures?’ said Meredith, trying not to laugh.
‘Yes, but we don’t expect to source those all from the same place. Otherwise we won’t end up with the diversity we need.’
‘Which is also one of our core brand values,’ said Meredith, keen to make amends for her crass lack of brand awareness so far.
‘Quite,’ said Vivien, floating on to the next area. ‘Now we’d like each meeting room to have its own personality. Perhaps theme the art around the room’s name, that sort of thing?’
Meredith looked at the absolutely uniform set of box-shaped rooms that were numbered alphabetically, by floor, and had about as much personality as a row of dead worms. She hoped Daisy was ready for a challenge.
‘Would you be happy for new room names to be included in the proposal?’ Meredith asked. That might give Daisy something to work with.
‘Yes, but again they would need to be in keeping,’ said Vivien. ‘Nothing frivolous.’
‘Of course,’ said Meredith, pushing to the back of her mind the amount of fun they could have coming up with a truly inappropriate set of room names.
Meredith spent the next half an hour trailing after Vivien, doing her best to make some sense of what seemed to her a totally unstructured set of instructions. In the end she decided to just write down what she was told, word for word, as it seemed like the safest plan.
‘Thank you so much, really very useful,’ said Meredith, nodding earnestly, once the grand tour had finished.
‘You’re welcome, and I look forward to receiving your contact’s proposal in due course,’ said Vivien. She twirled away from Meredith and swept out of the front doors, leaving Meredith standing on her own in bemused silence.
Meredith carefully put her notes into her briefcase and had a final look around at the bare walls. She’d love to see Daisy’s work splashed all over the offices, and whatever she might think of Vivien and her hopeless briefing, she was determined to help Daisy as best she could.
Chapter 24
After the meeting, Meredith went back to her office and reflected on her rather useless-looking notes. A knock on the door interrupted her thoughts.
‘Ready for VuePharma rehearsals with Nick?’ Alfred asked.
Meredith looked at her watch in alarm. ‘Shit, I’d forgotten about that!’
‘Don’t worry, we’re all set. You look like you’ve been busy,’ said Alfred, nodding at her scribbled notes.
Meredith laughed. ‘Sort of. I’ve arranged for that friend of mind I was telling you about to pitch for the art commission for the new training centre. These are the notes from my so-called briefing, although I’m not sure they’ll be much help. It’s all got to be aligned with our brand values – you know, all that crap. It’s a bit of a mystery to me.’
‘Could I help? I did history of art for A-level; really loved it. Florence and I go to galleries all the time, and I’m pretty au fait with all our brand messages.’
‘History of art? I’m amazed. I had you down as a maths and sciences man.’
‘Maths and the arts are very closely linked. Especially music. Lots of musical people are also very mathematical and vice versa.’
‘If you say so,’ said Meredith doubtfully. ‘But yes, thank you. We could do with all the help we can get. I was thinking of getting Daisy, that’s my friend, in to have a look at the training centre. Maybe you could meet then?’
‘Does she have a studio? It might be better that we meet there. Then I can get an idea of the type of work she does.’
‘She has a small gallery that shows her work and other artists’. She paints and does sculpture. I’m sure she’d love to show you around. I’ll sort something out.’
‘Great.’
‘Shall we go?’
Nick was waiting for them in his office, sitting at his meeting table and looking through the re-drafted presentation script that had caused them so much angst.
‘This is good stuff, guys,’ he said as they both sat down.
‘We’ve really done our homework on this one, Nick. Hopefully it will pay off,’ said Meredith.
‘We need to use your experience in France,’ said Nick. ‘The first business they want to buy as part of their acquisition programme is French, as is half the management team.’
They all thought for a moment.
‘I know,’ said Alfred. ‘Why don’t we do the first part of the presentation in both languages? You speak English and Meredith speaks French. That’s bound to impress them.’
‘Oh gosh, I don’t know about that. Won’t it seem a bit, you know, Eurovision Song Contest?’ said Meredith.
‘Alfred, that’s brilliant! I love it,’ said Nick. Alfred beamed at the glowing praise.
‘No, don’t worry, Meredith,’ Nick continued. ‘I think it would be bang on culturally. We should definitely do that. You open in French and then I’ll translate to English, or the other way round. Not for too long, obviously, as that would become tedious. Just for the first few minutes. But are you happy that your business French is good enough? I don’t want to put you under even more pressure.’
‘Yes, totally. I just don’t want us to look crass, that’s all.’
‘There’s no chance of that,’ said Nick.
‘Okay, then let’s do it,’ said Meredith, wishing she shared Nick’s confidence.
They spent the next hour rehearing the presentation. As Nick and Meredith were the only ones actually presenting, they did most of the talking. Alfred pretended to be the Vue management team, throwing them as many difficult questions as he could think of.
‘You did really well,’ said Alfred as they walked back to Meredith’s office.
Alfred had been scanning through his emails on his phone as they walked, but now he stopped mid-step and looked up at Meredith.
‘IT Support have just sent me a note confirming that one Lars Hanssen deleted our file. They want to know what action they should take.’
Meredith thought for a moment. ‘Tell them that Lars is one of our team and therefore we think it was just human error. We’ll put in some extra backup procedures to avoid it happening again, so they don’t need to take any further action.’
‘Okay. Shall I copy you?’ asked Alfred. Meredith nodded. He quickly typed out the message. ‘Sent,’ he said. ‘Now what?’
‘I think I’ll go and have a little chat with our friend,’ said Meredith.
‘Can I have a quick word?’
‘Help yourself,’ said Lars, gesturing to the spare chair on the other side of his desk. Meredith came in and shut the door behind her.
‘This looks ominous,’ said Lars. ‘I take it you’re not here to wish me happy birthday then.’
‘It’s your birthday?’
‘No, that was a joke.’
‘Not a very funny one, and I’ll tell you something else that’s not very funny: deleting my files.’
‘We’ve already had this conversation. I told you I’ve no idea what you’re talking about.’
Meredith opened up her phone and read out loud from Alfred’s email. ‘“Our investigation showed that your file vuepharmascript02.doc was deleted at one twenty-one p.m. by the computer assigned to Lars Hanssen.” Does that ring any bells?’
The expression on Lars face changed from smug to concerned in an instant. ‘They can’t tell things like that.’
‘That’s what I thought. Seems we’re both wrong.’
‘Well, that doesn’t prove anything. Someone could’ve used my
computer when I wasn’t here.’
‘Lars, look, can we just cut the crap? I’m not reporting you or anything and I’m not interested in arguing with you any more. Can we just start again? I’m sorry if I handled the situation with you and Alfred all wrong, but I was pretty livid at your automatic assumption that I wouldn’t win the Vue pitch.’
‘In this firm, we don’t go running off to the boss as soon something goes wrong,’ said Lars, looking sulky. ‘I don’t like being threatened.’
‘Point taken. But by the same token, teammates don’t normally try to sabotage each other’s projects,’ said Meredith, raising her eyebrows.
Lars shrugged and said nothing.
‘Look, I’m not going to sit here and pretend that I’m some sort of pushover. If you really want to fall out then I’ll fight you all the way. But that’s such a waste of our energy. I think that you’re smart and probably bloody good at your job. I’d much rather we worked together.’
Lars looked at her in surprise. Her conciliatory approach seemed to be working.
‘Truce?’ Meredith asked, holding out her hand. ‘It’ll make both of our lives a lot easier.’
Lars sat back in his seat, mulling over her offer. ‘And you won’t say anything about your file?’
‘It’s forgotten already.’
‘Alright,’ said Lars, finally relenting and holding out his hand. ‘Truce.’
‘Hurrah,’ said Meredith.
They sat in silence for a few moments, as neither of them could decide what to say next.
‘The VuePharma pitch is on Friday,’ said Meredith eventually.
‘Yeah, I heard.’ Lars paused and gave Meredith a knowing look. ‘Word on the street is that Medisar is about to announce a shocking set of results; a combination of Resolin coming off patent and a string of legal claims, apparently.’
Meredith looked at Lars in surprise. Medisar was one of VuePharma’s major competitors. ‘Wow, that’s not good.’
‘Nope, it’s not, and if I’m right, they’ll become a prime takeover target.’
‘Wouldn’t they be too big for Vue?’
‘Most of the analysts don’t seem to think so.’