Jinnie left SuperBurgers HQ confident she had put a cat among the SuperBurger pigeons. Since inheriting her shareholding in the group, she had been in several of their branches and was certain the reason for their fall in internally generated profits was the quality of their food and drink. Of course, the soft drinks were OK, they had a deal with Pepsi and sold their range of Cola and Seven Up, there was nothing they could mess about with there. But she had noted that tea, coffee and hot chocolate compared badly to the rivals on quality, strength and taste. She had also tried some of the burgers and was certain that just about every one of the competitors offered a better product. As a student she and her flatmates had often bought a takeaway meal or eaten in a fast food restaurant and in those days SuperBurger had been up with the best. Something had happened to the food quality that was reflecting in sales, and she was determined to put it right. She had a lot of money invested in SuperBurger and if profits fell so did the share price devaluing her holding.
Jinnie was still contemplating what had gone wrong with SuperBurger when she parked in the County Mall and as she walked to the ground floor shop that was to become the first Wedding Dress Bargains shop and her meeting with Miranda and Belinda. The mall was fairly modern and busy. At one end John Lewis had a department store and she passed many of the normal high street names in getting to the new shop. As she walked, she took in the way outlets had been grouped M&S and Boots were close to John Lewis and both had big shops, and at the far end the food outlets were grouped together and, in the distance, she could see McDonald’s, KFC, SuperBurger, a Chinese and a cafeteria. She decided to have a look at how busy they all were once she had seen the new shop.
Miranda and Belinda were waiting for her outside the lock-up shop and on first impressions Jinnie thought it was well positioned amid several fashion outlets, both big size and small, male and female with a lot of people walking past for 3:45 on a Monday afternoon. Miranda had the keys and let them all in, first raising the metal roller shutters before unlocking the front door and turning off the security alarm before it sounded by typing in a code. Miranda opened a small panel which Jinnie hadn’t even noticed and switched on the lights revealing a shop that was much bigger than Jinnie had expected. Having previously been a ladies’ fashion shop it was well-equipped with racks, shelves and changing rooms. There was a counter and at the back were two offices, a stockroom, a staff restroom with lockers, and a kitchenette and a toilet.
Looking around Jinnie thought it an excellent choice and in a state that could be used almost immediately. ‘It only needs a lick of paint and a good clean,’ thought Jinnie. However, Miranda had other ideas and produced drawings from the shop fitters she had hired and explained what changes were to be made. Miranda explained that the front of the shop was to display standard items and a few examples of wedding dresses and bridesmaid’s dresses. Jinnie asked what Miranda meant as ‘standard items’?
Miranda smiled and said, “My thinking is that for the bride it will be sexy underwear, stockings, garters, maybe some shoes, and ‘going away’ stuff like dresses and coats depending on the season. For men it will be off-the-peg suits, waistcoats, shoes, shirts, ties and bow ties. Then I want those changing cubicles ripped out. They are just not big enough to accommodate a bride trying on a wedding dress, her mum, her best friend and our salesperson/fitter. I told the shop fitters I wanted at least four ‘consulting rooms’ where we can easily accommodate all those people, with a credenza, a load of mirrors and excellent lighting. I specified an office for the branch manager, customer toilets, a staff restroom, food prep area and toilet, a workroom for minor on-site alterations and storage space.” “And they have squeezed all that in?” asked Jinnie. “Yes,” replied Miranda, “some of it was already there and just needed tweaking. But I rather like the design of the ‘consulting rooms’ and they have fitted in five.”
“I’m impressed by the design,” said Belinda, “and the quote is very reasonable. I would like to make some digital wallpaper like we currently have in Unit 11. Those pictures of Ro and Melissa are just too good to waste, and we have some pictures of cute bridesmaids, flower girls and pageboys as well as a couple of our grooms who could have been professional models.”
“I must ask,” said Jinnie, “why the Credenza?” Miranda smiled at her mother and said, “It’s somewhere to store material samples and albums of past designs for inspiration. But mum suggested we have a filter coffee machine and a tray of fixing in each room.” “Excellent idea,” said Jinnie. “Have you thought about staff?” “Yes,” said Miranda, “as discussed, we can use some of the existing sales staff from the Unit if it is to become our ‘factory’. Elspeth will be our manager and number one for measuring up, and she has approached someone she used to work with as another. One of the machinists does all the adjustments and she is happy to move to the shop. We currently have three sales consultants, and they are all happy to move but I think we should look for at least three more, at least one of whom should be a man for ‘groom’ and ‘best man’ sales.”
“As mum has been so busy and Andrew hasn’t been available very often, WDB has already hired a designer and she is pretty good,” continued Miranda. “I think we need another designer, and a girl Friday who can do all the little things like look after stock and displays, make sure the consulting rooms are clean and tidy, that the coffee machines are ready, answer the phone and make appointments. If trade is anything like Unit 11, we do most trade on a Saturday and virtually nothing on a Monday. I think we should look for a Saturday girl and I have been considering closing Mondays and opening on Sundays. I hear Sundays in the mall are nearly as busy as Saturday, but Monday is the quiet day.”
“Right,” said Jinnie, “so we need to look for a second designer, three or four consultants, a girl Friday and a weekend girl. Have you done anything about recruiting?” “No not yet,” answered Miranda. “I wanted to talk to you first and to talk money. Brian has helped me with a spreadsheet, and I reckon we are around £150,000 short on funds for the project.” “That’s not a problem,” said Jinnie who whipped out her phone and moments later said, “I have transferred £250,000 into the WDB account, the accountant can treat it as an interest-free director’s loan. Now I suggest we call it a day here and you call the Crawley Observer and the West Sussex Gazette about a big advert. You never know they might want to make a story of the shop opening and give us some free advertising.”
***
Jinnie didn’t walk directly back to her car. Instead, she walked to the far end of the mall where the food outlets were grouped. Most of the outlets looked busy and there was even a short queue in McDonald’s. Jinnie entered the cafe and ordered a latte from the counter. It arrived promptly and she carried it to an empty table that gave her a good overview of the establishment. Jinnie sat and watched and observed that although the cafe had initially appeared to be busy, it actually wasn’t. A lot of the tables, like hers, were occupied by people nursing drinks and not buying. Hardly anyone bought food to eat in or takeaway coffee, and she was a little surprised as the coffee was definitely better than SuperBurgers and McDonald’s and cheaper. A girl was wiping the recently vacated table beside Jinnie, and she asked her if it was always this quiet. The girl looked at her watch before replying, “At this time of day, yes. We are busy at lunchtime, a lot of the local office workers come in for something to eat. But it drops off during the afternoon.” Jinnie nodded and said, “What about breakfast do you sell much then? I see you are on a direct route from the railway and bus stations to the office district.” “We don’t open until 10 am,” came the reply.
Jinnie was amazed, the establishment was throwing customers away. As she wandered back to the Lexus she turned the situation over in her mind. She was sure that an Artisan Sandwich shop in the mall could make a fortune. She had already realised that they were missing out on the office breakfast trade, but just as she got to her car it struck her that many people must be getting off buses at the bus station and walking over to the station for a commuter train into London. That was another market an Artisan Sandwich shop could sell takeaway bacon rolls and coffee into. In her head Jinnie pictured a carriage full of people tucking into bacon baps and takeaway coffee while doing the Daily Telegraph crossword.
In the car she started the engine and touched the screen of the infotainment system to make a call. She pressed the appropriate button on the steering wheel and said, “Call Brooke Wilson,” and a moment later Brooke, who was obviously driving, answered saying, “Hi boss, what can I do for you?” Jinnie said, “It’s the other way around. Do you know the County Mall in Crawley?” “Yes,” said Brooke, “I have been there a few times looking for wedding presents, friends seem to like placing present lists at John Lewis.” “Have you ever visited the food court?” asked Jinnie. “No, I haven’t,” replied Brooke, “why do you ask”
“I was there today on business,” said Jinnie, “and I had a coffee in the big cafe in the food court. I got chatting to an employee and commented that I was surprised how quiet the place was for mid-afternoon when I could see a queue in McDonald’s and even SuperBurger and KFC were busy. Basically, she told me they did all their business at lunchtime and didn’t open until 10 am. Now I checked and the mall opens at six am but only a couple of shops open that early, like newsagents. Now I reckon someone opening for takeaway coffee and bacon sandwiches at seven or earlier would make a killing. There’s a big bus station right outside and the railway station is just over the road, with people commuting to London. By eight o’clock it’s people arriving to work in the Crawley shops and offices. Now I reckon that cafe is missing out on a huge number of customers by relying solely on the lunchtime trade and the occasional shopper grabbing a coffee and a sandwich or cake.”
“You have my attention,” said Brooke. “I take it you are thinking Artisan Sandwich outlet opening at say six thirty, would it be worth staying open past 4 pm, we don’t really sell food for evening meals.” “You’re right,” said Jinnie, “but Sybaritic does and the mall doesn’t close until midnight thirty and there is a Chinese, SuperBurger, KFC and McDonald’s all open until late.” “Now I see where you are going,” said Brooke. “Is there a vacant shop?” “No,” said Jinnie, “but a decent offer to a cafe might just buy them out. And I would like to try the same sort of discount scheme as we have in Maple House to the shops in the mall.” “I think I’m going to be up early tomorrow,” said Brooke, “and standing by the entrance to the food court from the bus station with my trusty clicker counting footfall, I would like to put some meat on the bones of your idea. I’ll ring you tomorrow afternoon.”
***
Willie climbed into ‘his’ seat in the back of Izzy’s C3 and she checked he had done up the clip of the belt and was properly secured. Of course, both the twins always did them up properly, but she had been taught that while a child was her responsibility she should always check just in case the kid forgot or did it wrong. It was better safe than sorry. She drove out of the drive and was delighted to see it was George on duty at the barrier. He came over to her lowered window said hello and started pulling Willie’s leg. He asked him where he was going, and Willie said “school” and George said, “Aren’t you a bit late it must be nearly finished for the day.” A serious Willie said, “I’m off sick, we’re going to collect my sister.” It was then that he saw Izzy laughing and realised George was teasing and he giggled too.
Izzy parked outside the school and she and Willie took their place at the gate. Several of the mums knew of Willie’s appendicitis and asked how he was and when all the children had been collected Miss Evans came over to speak with Izzy while Willie was busy showing his stitches to one of his classmates. Izzy explained to Miss Evans that Willie was to be off all week but when he got back next Monday, he was not allowed to do anything physically exerting for three weeks, so no swimming and no PE. Willie and Millie rejoined Izzy and Miss Evans and Miss Evans said to Willie, “I hear that when you come back to school next week you can’t come swimming and there’s no football in the playground at break or going on the climbing frame and no running around. Willie looked at her and said, “School is going to be boring.”
It was the same routine at the pole across the end of their road. George came over and put his head through the open window and said to Izzy, “I hear you have passengers I need to count them,” and made a fuss of counting the twins much to their amusement. As she drove through the barrier Izzy noticed a folded piece of paper in her lap and released it had to be a note from George. Having got the twins indoors and sent them to wash their hands Izzy quickly unfolded and read the note, it simply said
‘Can we talk in private, it’s difficult when the twins are there.’
The note then gave a mobile phone number. Izzy refolded the paper and put it into the pocket of her jeans before the twins arrived for their tea, it was warm sausage rolls and some of Granny Walsh’s fairy cakes today and Larry had smelt the sausage rolls and was hanging around expectantly.
***
While on the M25 home, Jinnie decided to phone Alan at Vauxhall Cross. She knew she had his number in her iPhone that was in her bag under the passenger seat, so she pressed the phone button on her steering wheel and said, “Phone Alan C,” and waited while the technology searched her phone’s contact list and dialled the number. There was a voice saying over the car’s speaker system, “Calling Alan C.” Jinnie still marvelled at how much technology had advanced since the country had emerged from under the German yoke, but to the twins it was perfectly normal.
The phone rang once before a voice Jinnie recognised as Alan’s personal assistant, said, “Good afternoon, Dame Jinnie, I take it you want to speak to Alan. He is free right now, so I can put you through, if you hold for a moment I will connect you.” Jinnie said, “Thank you,” and listened to the hold music before Alan’s voice said, “Hello Jinnie, thanks for calling. Your sister tells me you are back to normal now, but your son has been in trouble.” “Hi Alan, yes, I’m back to normal thanks, and went back to work full time again today. I did one day’s work the week before last, but then Willie was taken ill and had to have his appendix out. I was surprised that he was only in hospital for two nights, when I was at school, people were in hospital for 10 days or a fortnight. I guess that’s the beauty of keyhole surgery.”
Alan continued, “The reason I wanted you to ring was because I need to talk about your security and about the department’s insurance. You might have noted we have upped your security and have given DKL’s postroom equipment to check incoming mail. The same thing was already in place for Sir Nigel’s mail at your sorting office so it was easy to add you in. Also patrols in your road have been increased and the barriers at the end of the road have been strengthened with everyone being stopped, I hope it’s not too inconvenient.” “No,” replied Jinnie, “but I had noticed we were being stopped and an officer was checking in the car instead of being waved through.” “Good,” said Alan, “that’s just how it should be.”
Alan added, “As for insurance, I understand you are due a payout.” “Really!” exclaimed Jinnie. “There is one small thing,” continued Alan, “the insurance company wants you to have a medical. The way I understand it they want to ensure that you are fully recovered and won’t be making a second claim sometime in the future. They use a Harley Street specialist they would like you to make an appointment with. If I give you the phone number, can you phone and make an appointment? We need you to do this so we can keep you on the books.” “OK, I suppose so,” replied Jinnie, “but I doubt any payment would pay for my DKL or Trattoria Trevi time.” “I wouldn’t bet on that,” said Alan.
***
When Jinnie arrived home she found Izzy in a particularly good mood. She said dinner was nearly ready and she would be serving the beef bourguignon just as soon as Paolo got home. Jinnie went looking for the twins and found them playing Super Mario Karting on their Nintendo Switch. Jinnie loved how competitive they were but evenly matched, one winning one day and the other the next. Larry was watching them and came over to her to say hello. Willie, who was losing, declared he was hungry and asked what was for dinner. Jinnie laughed and replied, “I thought you had tea when Millie came home from school?” “That was only a snack,” said Willie, “and it was hours ago.” “Well, it’s one of your favourites,” answered Jinnie. “Beef bourguignon with mashed potato to mop up the gravy”. “That’s good,” replied Willie, “I like stew.”
Willie and Millie both finished their “stew” and then mopped up the remaining gravy with slices of bread. Millie said to Izzy, “That was nice, you make good stew. What’s for puddings?” “I haven’t made anything,” answered Izzy, “but there is yogurt in the fridge and ice cream in the freezer.” “Ice cream,” the twins chorused much to their mother’s amusement. “You two never stop eating,” she said, “you are becoming little pigs.”
Paolo made the coffee, Jinnie cleared the table and loaded the dishwasher while Izzy supervised the twins’ preparations for bed. The adults settled to drink their coffee and Larry had climbed into Jinnie’s lap for a cuddle. Izzy asked, “Do you mind if I go out tomorrow evening, I have a date.” “Not in the slightest,” replied Jinnie, “you don’t really have to ask. You are officially off duty in the evening, so just go and enjoy yourself.” “Thank you,” said Izzy. Jinnie was dying to know who the date was with but was to polite to ask.
***
Three weeks later Jinnie walked out of the Harley Street consulting rooms not knowing what to think. The doctor she had just seen and his surgery had been very different to any NHS doctor she had ever consulted. The surgery had said expensive from the moment she had seen it. The brass plaque beside the extra wide front door had declared Professor Tristan Franks MD. Jinnie had heard that some of the Harley Street doctors rented a consulting room by the half day a week, but this clearly wasn’t one of them. The reception was huge and the middle-aged receptionist sat behind the flat screen and keyboard of a PC on a massive partners desk, with no CPU to be seen. On hearing her name, the receptionist suggested Jinnie might like to take a seat in one of the leather armchairs and would she like a coffee as the professor was running a little late. Out of curiosity, Jinnie had said, “Yes please, white no sugar.” Almost instantly a tray had been placed beside her with a cafetière, a bone China cup and saucer, a jug of cream and a silver coffee spoon.
Much to Jinnie’s surprise the coffee was excellent. The magazines on the coffee table were not like her GP’s where if you weren’t into golf or cars, you were out of luck. Here it was the current copies of The Lady, Country Life and Tatler. Jinnie was beginning to wonder how much this set-up cost when the receptionist was joined by a nurse who announced, “The professor is ready to see you now Dame Jinnie, if you would like to follow me.” Again, the doctor’s surgery was huge and very plush. The professor had risen from behind a matching computer screen and desk as Jinnie entered. He had been younger than Jinnie had expected, probably in his early forties.
After assuring her that he was employed by the insurance company to write a report on her recent gunshot wound and its lasting effects he had asked a stream of questions. Did she have flashbacks, was she in pain still, were her movements restricted, had it affected her sleep? Eventually, he had said if she would like to step into a side room, he needed to examine the wound. The examination room was very clinical and very modern, and the nurse never left Jinnie’s side as Professor Franks examined her scars on her chest and back and took photos.
Back in the surgery, Franks asked if the scarring affected what Jinnie wore. Jinnie thought for a moment and replied that as it was still spring it hadn’t yet, but it would do in the summer or on holiday. Not so much the entry scar on her chest as it was small, but the exit scar on her back was large and ugly. She would not be able to wear backless dresses any more or bikinis. The professor nodded and added to the notes he had been making. Shortly after, he had raised up from behind his desk and indicated the consultation was over by saying he would now prepare the report for the insurance company. Jinnie had no idea what to make of the consultation.
Jinnie hailed a cab to St Pancras to catch the Thameslink home. Settled in the First-Class compartment, she mentally compared her consultation with that of Willie at Barnet General where the surgeon who had operated on him had spent a few minutes checking the wound and asking how he was before saying he could return to school, but not active sports or the likes for another month. He had then rushed off to his next patient in another cubicle. Overall Jinnie reflected she was happy with her son’s treatment and wondered what it would have cost in Harley Street.
In Chapter 15 – A visit to Vauxhall Cross
© WorthingGooner 2024
