by Avery, T. C.
And she replied, "You should. I'm good at what I do. Let me know when you need to fill a space."
She was trying not to overdo the double entendres but couldn't quite hold back. Letting go of his suit sleeve she smoothed it out and allowed him on his merry way to the bathroom. On his way back she caught his eye and gave him the 'pointed finger and thumb to ear' telephone signal and mouthed the words "Call me."
"My work here is done," she announced to the others and, proud as punch, ordered a round of drinks and dropped the subject for the night.
Lucy and the girls returned week after week for some time, alternating their evenings between Wednesdays and Thursdays so as not to appear too obvious. She regularly caught his eye and smiled alluringly but stopped short of actual conversation. She needed him to come to her, as Jody had instructed.
One Friday lunchtime, the call came in. It wasn't Luke, though, it was his P.A. She was very professional and proper and requested to speak with Ms Drummond. Lucy responded in her best business voice and secured her position at Banner products for two working weeks to start one week from the following Monday.
"I'm in," she screamed down the phone to Jody, "I've got my place at B.P.L. What's the plan now?"
Jody told her to calm down and they would catch up at the club over the weekend. "There's nothing you can't do, it's just normal office work and all I need is a few tiny bits and pieces. Like I've said all along, it'll be fun."
Jody was 'lunching' again with Bill, only this time his wife Sarah had joined them. Bill had come back to Jody with positives and negatives once he'd had chance to go over her plans and over the following few weeks they'd had numerous meetings to iron things out. Jody's youthful exuberance and wish lists were a tad unrealistic, to put it lightly, and Bill had a tough time, as he thought he would, bringing her expectations down a little.
"Dreams and aspirations are one thing," he'd said to her, "but reality and available finances are another."
She didn't want to hear it, but eventually had to bow to his wisdom and experience with successful businesses. And it was the reason she went to him in the first place.
They wouldn't be opening Britain's answer to Caesar's Palace on the first night, after all, and now, here they were with 'Sarah', the real brains, or rather 'reigns', behind Bill's successes. He too had a tendency to shoot first and ask questions later, but as a trained accountant, she called the shots. Bill was the front man to their operations and she ran the money, so, as Bill had said many weeks ago, he would need to get her involved prior to signing any dotted lines.
They went through the motions over their 'Dim Sum' starters and round the obligatorily polite houses for effect before the usual toilet break came. This time it was Bill's turn.
"Good, I can catch up with Jody on my own then whilst you're gone," said Sarah, before leaning in, elbows heavily gouging the table and chin on fists. Her eyes closed a little, her lips tightened and she started.
"Listen missy, I know all about you and your plans and I know all about Bill and his indiscretions abroad, organized by you. I even know what goes on behind closed doors down at that club of yours. Don't think for one minute I couldn't put a stop to any of it. You see the truth is, I've been there, where you are, that is. I've had my fill of fucking about and sex on the side an' all that, but Bill hasn't. Not yet. Typical testosterone driven bloke. Can't see past the end of his dick or the next shag. I know he's only in it for the sex. Me, on the other hand, I'm just not that bothered anymore, I've had my fill, but I turn a blind eye and let him get what he needs. I know he won't run off, but someone just might think they can take him away from me. Listen carefully, its not going to happen. I love him. And you, you little jumped up tart, better not fuck with this old bird. It won't be me who loses out. This bitch has been around the block more than a few times. Do not mess with me, and don't even think about hurting Bill. Do we understand each other?"
"Holy shit!" Jody was truly shocked. She'd never met anyone quite so blunt and forthright of the female persuasion. She didn't even use that kind of tact herself.
"Er, yes we do," said Jody, not wishing to challenge the self-proclaimed bitch. "I've no intentions of hurting Bill, he's a very dear friend and I'm just not like that, I...." And just as she was about to do some serious groveling for the first time in her life, Bill re-appeared and sat back down beside his wife.
"I was just running over things with Jody," began Sarah, "whilst you were gone, and I can't see any reason why you shouldn't open one of these naughty clubs of your own dear. Jody seems like a wonderful girl, an obvious stunner, and as you said yourself, she knows how to run these things, and the girls, and the 'entertainment' (she gesticulated some inverted commas) as you so tastefully put it."
"Great stuff," he said, "Brilliant, eh, Jody? It’s always good to get her ladyship onside." he winked at Jody.
"Watch it, you." Snapped 'her ladyship' in a firm yet forgiving manner.
Jody did the best she could to muster some gracious words for Bill's sake, even though she was still reeling from his wife's unprovoked tirade. What she really wanted to do was dance on the tables with Bill but the perplexed demeanor that had just been forced upon her meant that low key gratitude’s and platitudes were a little more appropriate.
"There'll be time enough to celebrate on opening day," she said in her best 'grown up' and 'business like' voice.
On reflection, later in the day, she decided, Sarah did actually make a good case for what really goes on in Bill's life, "but there was still no need to take it out on me."
Jody met up with Lucy that night. She'd forgotten it was Friday already, and until their own gig was finalized, 'the show must go on'.
Lucy was bursting at the seams to bring Jody up to speed on her news and her employment status. She wasn't just excited for the role, it was the notching up of 'brownie points' with Jody that did it and the opportunity to play 'Jane Bond' and get up to all sorts of naughtiness with the lead characters in their little game of espionage, whatever it was for.
Jody, for her part, was just as excited about her own news. She waited until they were together with Rachael in the dressing room before finally blurting out that "Approval had been given and the funds were secured". Bill was to be her business partner in the new place and unfortunately the 'Wicked Witch of the East Side' was coming along for the broom ride, whether they liked it or not. She wasn't going to be hands on, at least that was the plan, but she would be overseeing the books and may just make an appearance from time to time. Luckily she was presentable and not some fat old bird that would put the punters off their beer or the girls off their dancing even.
"She must have been a stunner, herself, in her younger days," Jody said.
"Maybe she could show us a few moves?" added Rachael.
"Yeah, right!"
The two-minute call came through for Rachael. She was up next. Checking the finishing touches to her outfit, helmet and makeup in the mirror she readied herself. She had on a tight white t-shirt at belly button length and the tightest, hottest, shortest pink pants you could imagine. Marginally bigger than knickers but they hugged closer.
"A camel toe hunter's Eldorado," as she called them.
She sneaked on stage in the dark and took up a commanding position aboard some strange apparatus then her music started.
Queen, “Fat Bottom Girls,” momentous.
Rachael was spot lit, sitting astride a racing bicycle, which was propped up, on a training stand for her. As she pedaled to nowhere, in her own time, on and off the seat, the bike was rotated slowly on a carousel. Everyone got a good view. In fact the audience was treated to a particularly dirty saddle show behind the best bike shed in town. The voyeurs in the audience, that is everyone, especially liked the rear view, up and out of the seat. She looked over her shoulder at her jaw dropped audience for added effect. Clearly Rachael had developed into a star performer. The right music, the right outfit and the right routine.
Jody couldn't
wait for Monday morning to come round so she could get down to the Commercial Estate Agents. The Sunday papers are okay, but you can't beat insider knowledge. The trouble she found, though, was that she couldn't get any. Insider knowledge that is. Just sales pitches. None of her clients were in leasing and renting and she didn't know any agents well enough for trustworthy advice. Bill wasn't much use either, other than to point her in Sarah's direction. Apparently she had contacts from her accountancy practice and had previously dabbled in commercial property investment advice. Jody wasn't exactly over the moon about the offer but in the end she gave in and succumbed as, in her eyes, it just had to better than conversing with the unknown and the untrustworthy.
Appointments were booked and cozy taxi trips made necessary with Sarah to meet up with two supposedly reputable agents. They 'allegedly' had access, and the insider track, to a number of unlisted and unadvertised potential venues. Jody refused to believe anything until she saw them.
Sarah was, once again, a frosty character of mixed messages. One minute she was cold, snappy, miserable, impatient and a nightmare to be with. The next minute, her dry and vicious, acid tongue was actually straight to the point, no-nonsense, insightful and often hilarious at someone else's expense, deserved or otherwise.
Luckily none of Sarah's spit and wit was aimed in Jody's direction. "That would have just killed it," thought Jody. Sarah was turning out to be a pretty dark horse, and maybe there was a human in there after all, under that hard, almost impenetrable outer shell.
By the time they had exhausted agent number one's 'pile of crap' listings and were half way through number two's (every pun intended) they were on their way to deepest, darkest Kings Cross. Apparently there was an old hotel there that had been used as a 'doss house' and more recently, 'storage facilities' for an architectural antiques dealer or 'hoarder' depending on your point of view.
There were no visible signs as to which property was their intended target, when the taxi pulled over, so they weren't quite sure which door they were supposed to be hovering outside. The whole row of Victorian buildings looked pretty grotty and it could have been any one of them. Within a few minutes their agent appeared, on foot, and signaled for them to come closer under a small and dirty wooden entrance canopy. As usual the sighs of despair and derision poured from Sarah's poisonous pavement pointing lips as she trudged behind Jody's upbeat but fading skips of intrigue.
Jody was trying her best to put an excited and positive spin on every property on the off chance that they may just uncover their 'gold mine' beneath the uninviting outward facade and the seemingly hundred year old grime within. She picked up pace and spun, hands on hips, to consider the splendour of the entrance as their doorman of the day unlocked the tall, heavy ornate oak on her behalf.
At least that's what would have happened in a nineteen sixties, black and white, pop culture musical.
What actually happened was a little less dramatic, and a little more mellow. They stepped inside and studied the entrance hall from floor to ceiling and back again. It was, like all the others, in need of a great deal of work and Jody's happy face was initially replaced with her disappointed one.
But wait, what was this? On second glance, it had presence, it had purpose, and it was at least intact. Parquet floors, brass fittings and a long, long reception desk. It also had a fantastic stairway with wrought iron bannister and the oldest open lift in town. One of those with folding concertina doors. For once Jody could see through the dust, the dirt, and the broken bits. And this time she saw seating, a stage, dancing podiums and cages, a bar, lights, mirrors, people, punters, dancers and yes! This was it! This was the place!
It wasn't big. It wasn't normal. It wasn't in a salubrious part of town and it needed work. A lot of work. But it was preserved. It was unique. And luckily, she did have the whole cast of Cliff Richard's 'The Young Ones' at her disposal for when the time comes to make this theatre her own. And they're now all in full colour.
"Best of all," Jody raised her elated voice. "It will be awesome."
This time, Sarah allowed Jody her moment of discovery. "Youthful enthusiasm, blood, sweat and ignorance would get them through," she thought, "and maybe, just maybe, this place could actually work. Assuming this chick is as good as Bill says she is."
Wheels were set in motion and Sarah took over the haggling and negotiations for leasing the place. The owners were difficult, but a sales pitch based on 'lost earnings from empty premises' versus 'lower initial rates and an annual increase', eventually won them over. Some money is always better than none, after all.
The processes and paperwork and to-ing and fro-ing took less time than anticipated. They agreed on a settlement and key handover date for when the big clean up could start and the refurbishment work could begin. Unfortunately, Jody would have to dream and plan from afar, since they were not granted any access to the building until then.
Six weeks would seem like an age, but in many respects it was a godsend and fitted in well with her other activities. Lucy's job placement was a priority, even though there wasn't much for Jody to do except moral support and guidance.
Jody also had a complementary Caribbean cruise coming up. She'd been making very good headway in the cruising sector and this didn't go unnoticed in the travel trade. One of the big lines needed her to sample 'their way' of life and entertainment on the high seas as a bribe, or rather encouragement, to sell more of their holiday staterooms as opposed to their competition's. 'Word' had also got round that Jody was imminently about to leave 'Three Kings' and she was being inundated with offers and trials.
"It's one of the better perks of the trade" Jody would say. "How can anyone be certain that a hotel, airline, ship or camel for that matter, is better than the next guy's, unless its proven?"
The whole industry revolves around freebies and complementaries. Without them, who would know the difference? You can't wait forever for the rating agencies, and you can't always trust the public for genuine feedback, untainted by personal agenda or attention seeking.
So 'bribery' it is! Fantastic eh?
Chapter 10
Trojan (w) horse
Monday workday took far too long to come around for Lucy. She made three sightseeing visits to B.P.L. in the previous week just to feed her curiosity and give her a heads up on the place. She justified it to herself on the grounds it was almost on her route to other places, but, in truth, she was really just stalking. As a result she almost got caught, spying from the perimeter, like some down market private investigator trying to catch out the cheating husband, but her luck must have been in, as the truck driver's attention was suddenly diverted and he was required elsewhere.
Anyway, she walked from the tube station and arrived early to make a good impression. B.P.L. was a sizeable place that looked like it had been expanded and added to over the years. The main office block was traditional enough but the adjoining factory was definitely a sixty’s add-on and had been visibly altered and extended over the years since then. Lucy assumed they must have bought the place and brought it up to standard piece meal.
The entranceway was imposing enough to impress any business associates and sales reps, and the foyer-come-waiting-room, was actually quite tasteful. Better than the usual dated settees, terrible pictures and cheese plant variety show. This was modern and comfortable and had some big, bright and bold abstract art on the walls. Enough to feed any visitor’s imagination and probably a ploy to detract from the nature of their product offerings, which unfortunately included colostomy bags.
"How would you go about marketing them anyway," thought Lucy, "and how do you tell everyone you make condoms without covering the walls in porn." Lucy considered a number of probably inappropriate solutions and the artwork to go with them and began smiling to herself. She was interrupted by an older gent' passing through.
"Do you need some assistance? Only the office doesn't open till eight."
"Er, no thank you. I'll wait. I'm here for the Temp position
. P.A. for Mister Banner."
"Father or son?"
"Son, I think." she said. Now a little confused, but she had to be right “Coz Luke couldn't possibly have one of his own. At least, not at work.”
"He's probably in already. He's an early starter. Do you want me to find him for you?"
"No," she replied, "I'll just wait for the office to open and do my introductions the proper way. The ladies will want to show me through I should think."
"No problem. I'll most likely see you around then," he smiled and made his exit through what was possibly the door to the factory.
Lucy was left on her own again to contemplate the artwork, the magazines neatly stacked on the coffee table and the front doors, through which everyone must shortly pour. And they did.
Eventually two ladies came through the double doors and one of them had a key for the main office. As she opened the door Lucy formally introduced herself to the other, who, as it turned out, was the receptionist. They looked her up and down a bit before inviting her in. She was offered a seat and asked to wait just a few moments whilst they went through the regular rigmarole for opening the place. The alarms were already off. Someone must have done it already. So the answer phone was switched off, the lights went on, computer screens activated, mail placed on the front reception desk and now, they could all head for the brew room.
Whilst they milled around the coffee making facilities in the kitchen one of the ladies telephoned Mister Banner to see if he wanted one as well. He must have said yes, as she then asked if Lucy was to be brought up also.
"We'll take his drink up together and I can introduce you then," she said.
Lucy had, by now, taken her coat off and by the almost instant reaction from all and sundry she knew the pot had just been given a bloody good stir. Clearly they weren't used to hot young things in these parts. Hers was the only skirt above the knees and only then did she realize that all the others must have forgotten what a cleavage looked like. Lucy was proud of hers, so there it was, on display.