A Change for the Better?

by Stephanie Drury

  Ben put the coffee machine on and, as it started to hiss and gurgle, he got the mugs out of the cupboard. They took it in turns to bring breakfast in. Jean always brought freshly baked croissants and muffins, Ben picked up bacon butties from the ’Sarnie Shack’ at the end of the road. John brought in French sticks or bloomers and they broke off slabs and slathered them with butter and jam, but today was Charlie’s turn so it would be McDonalds McMuffins all round. Charlie thought you could never have too much fast food.

  Ben had just finished pulling his notes together half an hour later when the door swung open to herald the arrival of another person.

  “Bloody Hell, Ben, you didn’t really cycle here did you? - its brass monkey weather out there.” The lilting, teasing, Geordie tones belonged to John, BW’s site manager for all the sites at present. Ben had hired John just over four years ago when he had taken on his first full conversion job of an old four bedroomed house, when he also had the work at Declan’s restaurant. He realised quickly it was too much for him to try and design and build and supervise the projects - and get it right! Besides managing other people was not Ben’s strong point, he preferred to do things himself rather than order others to, a trait that would have cost him a lot of money had he not hired John. Ben was forever grateful that this deceptively benign, gentle Geordie had come through the door as the first applicant for the job. Although he had a quiet manner there was an edge of steel inside and the guys on the site who missed this soon found out when they tried to pull a fast one.

  John rubbed his hands together and stood over the heater trying to defrost his nether regions.

  “Of course I cycled,” Ben replied “anyway you’ve worked outside all your life, a bit of frost shouldn’t bother you.”

  “Are you kidding?” John laughed, “Days like this I always made sure I had a job inside - did you never notice?” John winked and walked over to the coffee machine just as the door swung open and Jean shuffled through it. At least they presumed it must be Jean underneath the layers of coats, scarves and the woolly hat pulled down nearly over her eyes.

  “Morning Jean” they chorused and were rewarded with a grunt.

  “I hate winter” she snapped when she had finally removed enough layers to be heard, but she still kept her hat, gloves and one scarf on, “I’m definitely retiring to Spain, sunshine, golden beaches, warmth, half naked Spanish men.”

  “Coffee Jean?” John said, not wanting to venture any further into Jean’s fantasy.

  “No, I’ll have tea please” she broke off from her Spanish dream, “When can I retire Ben?”

  “On the pension you get from here - about 2050 I should say.”

  “Fine, I’ll only be about a hundred by then. Why the hell do I work for you?” she regarded Ben with an evil eye, but he could see the gleam behind it.

  “Because you couldn’t do without us Jean. You need at least half a dozen people to tell what to do or your day’s been wasted - you’d die of boredom sitting by the pool all day.”

  “Mm, maybe, but I wouldn’t mind giving it a go, especially on a day like this.” She shuddered and finally dared to remove her hat causing her thick honey blond hair to stand on end, giving her the look of a slightly mad aunt. She sipped on the steaming tea and felt herself starting to thaw, just as the door opened again and let in an icy blast to blow right down her back.

  “Shut that bloody door Charlie” she chastised.

  Charlie bounded in with his hands full of MacDonald’s bags. Ben thought he hadn’t really changed in the thirteen years he had known him. He still entered every room like a small child at Christmas leaving chaos behind him, but no one could take offence with his disarming smile and clumsy but charming manner. Ben and Charlie had become friends as soon as they met on the first day of college and it was a friendship that had continued to this day. Charlie was a fine carpenter and worked on all Ben’s jobs, but his real love was to make individually crafted pieces of furniture which he did in his spare time. Not that he had much of that Charlie had married his childhood sweetheart, Anna, five years before and they now had two boisterous ‘under-fives’ to keep them busy.

  Charlie handed the MacDonald’s’ bags round, a separate one for each of them with their order in.

  “Aah the glories of fast food” Charlie sighed as he bit into his muffin. “How civilised is it that I can now buy fast food twenty four hours a day.”

  “Well with yours and Anna’s culinary skills I should say it’s essential to your survival.” Ben responded drily. He had suffered many aborted dinner parties at Charlie’s when they had thrown the prospective dinner in the bin and phoned the local Indian takeaway instead.

  “Now” Ben continued “shall we get started as I know John needs to get over to Cheadle House for ten.” They all gathered round the table immediately clicking onto business mode. Jean reached for her pad in order to take notes and distributed the last meetings minutes.

  “Right” said Ben “any action points from last week?” He scanned the notes. “No - OK let’s move on to the current jobs review. Cheadle House, progress report John” John proceeded to give them an update on the work they were doing at the local retirement home. They had been contracted to build a huge extension onto the back of the converted house to give them a new dining room and activity area, in addition, they were extending at the side of the house for a new suite of offices so the current ones could be turned into more rooms. The project, John reported, was into its second month and so far was on schedule but there were problems with the architect who kept revising plans on the hoof.

  “Who is the architect again?” Ben asked.

  “Brian Galton” John answered.

  “Brainless Brian, of course, what do the owners think?” Ben enquired

  “Well, I think they’re starting to lose confidence in him, ever since they realised he’d forgotten to put ramp access into the dining room. Fortunately we picked up on that so it’s covered now but he’s flapping around trying to regain favour. It’s going to cause some problems later down the line, I know it.” John had a nose for a potential problem long before it arrived. It was one of the reasons he was worth every penny BW paid him.

  “What do we think?” Ben asked the table.

  “You need to go see Bill Cheadle and work your charm.” Jean was definite in her suggestion “plant the seed and drop Stewart’s name into the pot.” Stewart Jackson was another local architect with a better reputation than Brian Galton. BW Building had worked with him on a number of conversions and they had a good rapport going. John considered the idea,

  “I think it’s worth a shot anyway - like I said they think well of us at the minute so they might be guided.”

  “OK” said Ben, never one to linger too long making a decision, “I’ll come up this morning and start the ball rolling.”

  Charlie then gave them an update on Burnside, a conversion of dilapidated cottages by the riverside coming into Laxley Heath. The conversion was nearly complete Charlie was overseeing the fitting of the new kitchens and final decorations.

  “So” he concluded “the estate agent will be round on Friday to get them up for sale properly, although there are a couple of interested parties already, so they should go quickly. They definitely won’t be another Hawthorns.” They all groaned. Hawthorns had been their second development project and a salutary lesson to them all. It was a renovation of two rail side terraced houses but they had gone way over budget on the refurbishment and then taken over a year to sell either of them. They had cost the business a lot of money and Ben had nearly made the decision to give up after it, but they had got through it by taking on a lot of maintenance work and small jobs until they secured a bigger contract and sold Hawthorns, but they remained a cautionary tale.

  They finished their discussions about all the existing jobs on BW’s books and turned their attention to future prospects. It was a little less rosy here at present.

  “So” Ben started slowly as no one really wanted
to start the discussion, “apart from the renovations at Rippley due to start in six weeks and the extension build at the Stewarts in Copham, have we anything else secured?” There were shaking of heads and Jean pursed her lips, she’d seen a thin order book in her last job and that had not ended well. Ben needed to inject some optimism and motivation into the team as he could see the concern etched in the expressions on their faces.

  “Right, let’s get cracking then. What prospects do we currently have?”

  “Rawlinston Main Street, there is the opportunity for the retail and residential units in the old terraces at the far end.” John returned “the local council is funding the job, so planning shouldn’t be a problem and the conversion is right up our street.”

  “Excellent” Ben responded “so when are tenders due in?”

  “February 2nd”

  “Right, John, you and I will complete that this week and get it off. What other projects are we aware of?”

  “I’ve not heard of any others at the moment.” John shook his head.

  “Me neither” Charlie added

  “It’s a bit of a lean time for development at the moment.” John continued “local authorities are holding back for new budgets and other developers are taking their building work in house to keep hold of as much profit as possible.” Ben pondered this for a while and then snapped his fingers and jumped to his feet, almost knocking the table over as he did so.

  “Watch out mate” Charlie cried, as he rescued his mug of coffee as it hurtled to the edge of the table, “are you having a ‘eureka’ moment?”

  “Actually, yes I am” Ben grinned “let’s stop finding someone else who’s developing and pitching for the job - let’s find a site and do it ourselves, or find some land and build on it ourselves.” They all looked at one another, a few seconds later Charlie and John grinned.

  “We could do it; we know enough people and we’ve got the knowledge between us.” Charlie was excited about the prospect.

  “Yes but its riskier remember” John sounded a note of caution “everything rests on BW, if it goes wrong we get nothing.”

  “But it won’t go wrong” Ben responded in earnest “we won’t let it and yes it is riskier but that’s how we get the rewards. In the long run it’s better for everyone.”

  John, Charlie and Ben carried on the discussion, talking about possible sites, contacts they could use, if a new build or renovation was a better option, only Jean remained quiet. Eventually the conversation trailed off as they realised Jean hadn’t spoken since Ben had first voiced his idea.

  “Come on Jean, I can tell you’re worried about it. Tell us what’s bothering you.” Ben asked.

  “It’s the money” she replied simply “where does it come from? How do we find enough to keep going? This is completely different cash flow for the business, it could take you down and I don’t want to see that, not again.” Jean was genuinely concerned “I’m not trying to scaremonger but you’ve got to consider how you’ll fund it.”

  “OK, fair point Jean” Ben frowned as he thought “I don’t want to get this wrong but we’ve got a fair amount in the business reserve, we’ll have all the payments from Burnside shortly.”

  “Yes” agreed Jean “but it’ll still be tight. Cash, or lack of it, takes a business down.”

  “I could put something in” John offered quietly from the corner, Ben turned to look at him. “I’ve got some policies maturing I’d love to put them into BW if you want other partners - no pressure.”

  “Me too” Charlie added “you know I’ve got that money dad left me, I think he’d like me to do something ambitious with it.” Ben stared ahead of him, he was deeply touched by John and Charlie’s desire to be a part of the business he’d created, it took no time at all to know he’d accept their offer, whether he needed the money or not. They were like the three musketeers Ben would trust them with his life, let alone his business.

  “OK” he said aloud “let’s do it - but we do it right. Jean, make an appointment with John Richmond at the solicitors and we’ll get the paperwork sorted out.” Charlie and John looked at each other and then at Ben, they all raised their mugs and cracked them together with glee.

  “One for all and all for one” they chorused.

  “God help me” Jean mumbled “now I’ve got three bosses!”

  Ben left the office about an hour later; they had talked more about how it would work but agreed that all their roles stay should pretty much the same. Charlie and John would each buy 20% of the business leaving Ben as the majority shareholder still. Lastly they had drawn up a list of potential projects and contacts and divided it amongst them. They would work through the list and report back in a week. Ben felt exhilarated; he had not felt this good since he had decided to run his own business. They were taking a step up, it was a risk but he couldn’t stand still. Planning, designing and building his own projects had always been Ben’s ultimate dream; he was now many steps closer.

  CHAPTER 7

  Ben spent the rest of the day visiting Cheadle House and speaking with the owners, allaying their fears and getting them to agree, he hoped, to a change of architect. Then he phoned Stewart, the new architect and filled him in on the details. It was only 3.30pm but Ben decided to call it a day and returned back to his flat on the west side of Rawlinston in a busy, up and coming area that had been revived due to a lot of warehouse loft conversions and a number of lively bars and cafes that had sprung up around them. Ben’s flat, on the corner of West Lyme Street and Lofthouse Road, was a first floor apartment; he passed through the shared entrance lobby at the front and ran up the steps two at a time. He hadn’t felt this energised in ages, he couldn’t wait to get in the flat and start working on the finances for the business and trawl the internet for other leads to possible projects. As soon as he opened the flat door the deafening music hit him full square in the ears, the latest R & B rhythms that Ben found incredibly repetitive. There was only one person who played this music, this loud, on his sound system.

  “Lucy, Lucy” he yelled, heading into the living room, “turn that bloody thing down.”

  A blond haired, extremely pretty teenage girl jumped off the beige leather couch and turned the sound down one notch, making virtually no difference to the decibel level.

  “Luce, NOW” Ben bellowed. She smiled a rebellious smile but turned the music down to a dull thud in the background.

  “Better?” She asked cheekily

  “Much” Ben replied “So, Luce, what are you doing here? You’re not supposed to visiting for another couple of weeks - have you had a row with Mum again?”

  “No” Lucy replied with exaggerated affront, “Mum brought me over here actually.”

  “She brought you here - I’m not you’re babysitter I could have plans tonight. I can’t just drop everything cos she’s got a new fella to go out with.” Ben paused “Has she got a new bloke?”

  “No, she’s still with ‘Clever Trevor’ actually - and she‘s not on a night out. I‘m nearly fifteen you know. I can manage an evening on my own without any trouble” Lucy said belligerently.

  “Actually, that’s highly unlikely as you can scarcely manage five minutes without getting into trouble, but I’m not getting into that now. So why has Mum brought you all this way for the evening?” Ben waited expectantly but Lucy seemed reluctant to answer this direct question and merely let her gaze rest in the far corner of the room by the door Ben had just entered. Ben, with an impending sense of doom, followed Lucy’s gaze to the rucksack and suitcase placed just so they wouldn’t be seen when you first came through the door. Ben swung round instantly

  “No, no way, absolutely not - get the bags I’m taking you back now.”

  “Too late, big brother, she’s on the plane by now.” Lucy took great relish delivering this news to her brother.

  “She’s on the what?” Ben boomed in disbelief “and where does she think she’s going?”

  “You know Mum; she said she needed a break, so s
he booked a week for her and Trev in Spain. She thought you’d be more than happy to look after your little sister while she recuperated.”

  “Recuperated from what?” Ben asked, momentarily distracted.

  “Oh from the stresses of everyday life, you know Mum, it doesn’t take much to set her nerves off.” Ben knew this was true, ever since he had been a small child he had been conscious of his mother’s nerves which always made an appearance when she either didn’t want to do something or wanted an excuse to leave all her responsibilities behind for a while on some jaunt or other. When Ben was small he had spent many weeks at his grandparents, his father having left when he was still a baby. His mother had never really got over this slight and despite many other lovers, including Lucy’s father and ‘Clever Trevor’ an estate agent from York; she had remained a martyr to her nerves. A role she played to perfection. Ben realised Lucy was looking at him expectantly waiting for him to provide an answer to her situation. Her big blue expressive eyes looked defiantly at him, but not quite masking the vulnerability behind them. Ben had, in fact, been the most stable factor in her life, and despite her propensity to get into many and varied scrapes he loved her to bits, even though she drove him mad, frequently!

  “OK titch,” he said, using his nickname for her, designed to annoy her, but it was also affectionate “looks like you’re here for a week or so, so let’s go through the ground rules.”

  “Oh God, not again” groaned Lucy, sliding back onto the sofa.

  “Yes again,” Ben replied sternly “so this time there can be no confusion.”

  Ben passed a relatively quiet weekend considering the addition of his unexpected guest, and apart from a small pan fire in the kitchen and a humungous row about going to a club on Saturday night, which he won by simply standing in front of the door for an hour until Lucy gave up and retreated to her room to play a variety of extremely loud dance music until she got bored of it and put on a ‘Friends’ DVD instead. This was all par for the course with Lucy, and Ben had many years’ experience to call on. Lucy was, in fact, a good kid at heart but she had always had to compete for attention from her mother who was usually working or developing a new relationship, and from a father who had shown absolutely no interest in her from the moment she was conceived. Ben was probably the most stable and normal thing in her life, it was no wonder she kicked against the traces now and again, but deep down he thought she appreciated the rules and discipline he insisted on, it showed he was genuinely concerned for her welfare.