Minding the Store

Minding the Store

by

David O’Neil

W & B Publishers

USA

Minding the Store © 2013. All rights reserved by David O’Neil.

No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping, or by any informational storage retrieval system without prior permission in writing from the publisher.

W & B Publishes

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Post office box 193

Colfax, NC 27235

Book Cover designed by Dubya

Printed in the United States of America

Chapter one

David Freemantle moved his pen to the far side of the desk and then he moved it back. He looked around the office. Outside the window the life of the city passed with the usual sounds that are so much part of the scene, not that he could hear them, the triple-glazed windows saw to that. He was tall, just six foot; the easy way he moved betrayed the fact that he was in trim. His fair hair had grown back, and the deep tan acquired in Iraq and Afghanistan had faded to an acceptable level by popular standards. He moved his pen once more across the desk, then moved it back.

Memories crowded his mind as he saw the familiar scene. It was one he had known all his life.

Prepared from his earliest recollection to be part of—eventually rule—the destiny of Freemantle’s, the store that bore his name. With a wry smile he thought, not yet. Ever since the death of his parents, grandmother had ruled the destiny of the store, and she still did.

It was eighteen years since that day that his world had fallen apart. He remembered it clearly though he thought about it less these days. The sunshine and the woods, his mother sitting on the picnic rug with the remains of their lunch still laid out in front of her. Father was on his feet looking down the road at an approaching car. It was travelling fast, and he was aware of the screams of people leaping out of the way. David was on the other side of the road playing by the woods there. As the car neared he heard his father call out and turned to return to them on the other side of the road. He saw the car and stopped but his father had already run forward to stop him from stepping into the path of the car. It was travelling faster that father realized. He could still see father turn, too late to return to the roadside and mother. The car wing caught him and threw him in the air. He crashed down on David’s mother, still seated on the ground. By the time the boy reached them they were both dead, father from the collision with the car, mother from the impact of father’s flying body.

That afternoon grandmother took charge of the store and her grandson.

David considered this as he looked back. There was little to complain about really; grandmother had seen to his education, and when he obtained his degree, had put up no serious obstacle to his joining the Navy and serving as a Navy SEAL.

He walked round the office, the damage to his leg that had meant the end of his career as a Naval Officer no longer troubling him and, if truth be known, his determination to make sure it did not hamper him in any way had resulted in his complete recovery.

The office was a big corner room with windows on two walls. He looked down from the far window at the street four stories down. Sometimes he would watch the office girls and shop assistants as they gathered and split during break times. On occasion he would see staff from the store, though they were not supposed to go out onto the street during the working day, grandma did not approve. It was only to make sure that they did not mark the uniform that was worn by all the female staff of the Freemantle Department Store. Laundered every night, the uniforms were part of the pride that working for this most prestigious store in the city generated.

David was Manager Director of Freemantle Department Stores. In fact he had been told in no uncertain terms that granny ran things and despite the fact that she was 82 years old, she had still got all her faculties, including an iron will.

David would take over when he was ready. He was just beginning to wonder when that would be, he had visions of his grandmother still tottering about telling him off for dirty fingernails when he was considering retiring in forty years’ time. Perhaps Freemantle’s would be out of business by then.

Fed up with trying to occupy himself in his empty office, he went out the door and took the staff lift to the basement, where the packing and despatch departments were located. He prowled around the area. Most of the staff knew him well enough to greet him cheerfully. He was popular with the people here. He had been known to lend a hand and take the end of a heavy package, stack incoming goods, and on occasion help load a delivery van. He had been back in the United States for nine months now. He had contemplated taking a contract to bodyguard some business executive in Iraq or some other hot spot. Deep down he knew that could not happen, his responsibilities were here, in the store his family had built up over the past hundred and twenty odd years.

In the staff room the coffee pot was hot and the card school was busy as the people took their break. His arrival was greeted with nods and smiles. Nobody stopped what they were doing except Albert, who poured out a mug of coffee, black with one sugar, and passed it to him. Albert was the former butler for the Freemantle family.

An African-American who was probably at least seventy years old, he had a job here as long as he wanted it. David had served with Albert’s grandson Sam Hunt in the desert. Sam had been a snake eater, (Army Delta Force) sergeant while David had been a Navy Seal. Both had been involved with British SAS personnel in finding and disposing of small units of fundamentalist Moslems. Their targets were trying to counter the training programs initiated by the Allied Forces in Iraq, using sabotage, and car bombing. Sam was still in the service. David, a Lieutenant had served for five years only. He left after a wound had made his continuing service in the Seals unlikely.

When he reported for work at the store, he had found that there were plans to separate many of the older staff from the company. Albert had been on the list. Since David was offered no explanation other than the people listed were older, he saw no justification for their dismissal. He had dug his heels in on that score. Nobody would dare sack any employee without good acceptable reason. To David people like Albert were the backbone of Freemantle’s. Grandma agreed. It seemed she had not on that occasion been consulted. The current CEO had been seriously put out at having his decision reversed. He blamed David and did his best to make his life as difficult as possible as a result.

Horace Walker entered the staff room and collected his coffee from Albert, black with cream and two sugars. He sipped it and came over to David, who was leaning against the wall watching the poker game.

He touched David’s shoulder and tilted his head, turning to go to his little office in the corner of the basement. He was a short, stocky man with balding head and bags under his eyes. His clothes were good but they showed signs of wear. He was good at his job but not as popular with the upstairs management as he once was.

So, what’s happening, Horace? David smiled. They haven’t sacked you yet then.

Horace sat at his desk and indicated the other chair in the office. The time has come for you to get off your ass and take control. He was quite serious.

David said You know I don’t have the authority to do that.

You are Managing Director!

The store is run by the General Manager as well you know, I have no authority over him.

I have been doing some research into the company files and I have found that contrary to popular opinion you have more authority that you seem to realize. He held up his hand to stop David from interrupting.

"Under the company rules, the Managing Director is responsible to the Board for the appointment of the General Manager. In the event of the Managing Director being incapacitated or unable for some other reason to fulfil this task, the Board shall assume the responsibility.

When your father died, the Board took over the task and has carried on making the appointments ever since.

Horace sat back and looked directly at David. For a few moments David mulled over what Horace had said. Then So, as Managing Director, I have a responsibility to carry out the task, but can I fire as well as hire?

In a word. Yes!

Have you anyone in mind?

Have you met Marsha Hunt?

The name sounds familiar, but I don’t recall Marsha.

"Albert’s granddaughter, graduated from Smith, Master’s Degree in Sales and Marketing, Harvard, Degree in Interior Design from the Slade in London.

She is currently being head-hunted by Niemen’s but has held off because she has a soft spot for her granddad and he would like her to come here. I believe she would turn this place around fast. And I only met her once over a year ago. Shall I set up a meet?

David grinned Now I remember her, she was bossy even as a kid. Hell yes, set up a meet, lunch off the beaten track, I think. Let’s not set the tom toms going.

Horace smiled, Two pm at Barny’s, in the village. Don’t be late, her time is valuable.

David started to speak but Horace held his hand up Don’t thank me, just don’t blow it, okay. I want to be getting my pension from this place so it needs to stay in business.

David looked at his watch, he had time to get changed and get to the village by cab if he moved now.

***

Barny’s was one of the best kept secrets in the village. It served excellent food and wine and was never short of customers. Those who knew kept the secret, otherwise the place would be overrun and spoiled overnight. Barny himself approved. His regular trade was enough to assure him of a comfortable retirement whenever he decided to do it. He enjoyed what he did and knew most of his customers by their first names.

David walked in at two pm precisely. Barny greeted him at the desk. Where did you find that one? He said quietly, She has got to be the best so far.

I’m surprised at you, Barny, at your age, too. You should give the Viagra a rest, it’s affecting your mind.

Barny grinned and, picking up two menus, led David over to the table where Marsha Hunt sat.

David sat down and took the menus from Barny, Give us a moment. Barny.

He turned to Marsha. Hi, funny face, you’ve been away too long.

Marsha smiled, Hullo, Freeway, I see age has not improved your manners.

You remembered, I’m flattered, he reached across the table and took her hand. He gave it a squeeze and released it. Sorry about your parents, I went to the funeral.

I know; granddad told me. So what’s this all about?

I would like to say that realizing that you had metamorphosed into a beautiful woman I found a sneaky way to get to know you. But truth to say, Horace set us up to discuss running the Store.

You must be joking/ I know my dad was white, but I am still, how do they put it politely ‘café au lait’, your grandma would never allow it.

Have you seen the store recently?

Yes, as a matter of fact, I have.

What do you think?

Honestly?

David looked her directly in the eye and said When you know me better you will understand that I prefer honest answers to any question I ask. He was quite serious and Marsha felt her spirits lift. This man that she had known since they had both been children had not only grown up to be a seriously good-looking man, he actually seemed interested in her opinion.

She launched into her conclusions about Freemantle’s "Right, to summarise first. The store is still the most charismatic retailer in New York. It still has the cachet to make it the focus for a visit to the city.

"On the other hand there are things going wrong that will progressively bring it down unless something is done soon.

Within the store. there is a lack of spirit being shown by the staff. I think it is fear of losing their jobs. The store had always employed people who encouraged their family to follow them into the business. The emphasis on employee loyalty is drifting, families are more interested in sending Junior to college these days rather than allowing then to serve behind a counter. It’s understandable, but the problem need not be insurmountable.

I’m hungry, let’s order! She picked up her menu. When the waiter appeared, she ordered Spaghetti Carbonara and a glass of Chianti, she studied him discreetly while he ordered Veal Cordon Bleu and a beer.

Right now, what have you been up to since you last pulled my pigtails?

"Apart from going to college, not a lot. Nine months ago. I was induced to return to the store, but when I asked to work my way through the departments, I was told I was far too important and I was given the title of Managing Director. What I did not realize at the time was that they had given me title over the appointment of the General Manager. Grandma is still President, thank goodnes; she alone has stopped our General Manager from selling the store to Bloomingdale’s.

"I am still learning about my real responsibility to the store, but I am beginning to think that Grandma knew exactly what she was doing, having me appointed to this position.

After the death of my parents, the Board members were given the responsibility of running the store for my benefit. They are so accustomed to doing it that they have made no effort to hand it over to me. So it seems it’s up to me to take over myself. This brings me. finally, to the subject of you.

But as I’ve said, nobody is going to allow me to dictate policy in your store, you must know that. Despite her words, Marsha could not help the frisson of excitement at the thought of running the most prestigious department store west of the Atlantic Ocean.

I know that at the moment the store is surviving by the skin of its teeth. We need someone like you to haul it back from the brink and get it moving again. I’ve said nothing to anybody else yet, and I intend keeping this whole issue between us. There is, it seems, more than one mole in the staff room, reporting to whom I don’t yet know, but I intend finding out. Until I do, anything I discuss will be on a personal basis only. Can I depend on you?

There was a lengthy silence while Marsha thought over the implications of David’s words, then, slowly, Martha spoke. "I will need to operate without any official connection to you for three weeks. Whatever I do, or say, in that period I expect you to accept on face value. You must allow me to make my own decisions. I will require you to react naturally; angry, happy, or disinterested; whatever the case may be.

First off, I will need to prepare a report, and produce recommendations for the future of the store. Then I will need to present my suggestions to the Board. If at that point the board approve, I will implement the changes I have suggested. So in the first instance, I will accept the position of consultant. If I am accepted by the board and the CEO, that is as far as I will go. If the situation changes, we can renegotiate at that point. Yes or No?

It is known that we have some history so it would be silly to claim we did not know each other. She looked up at David in question, as she spoke. David had great difficulty controlling his reactions at that point. He felt himself melting under that look. Not trusting his voice he nodded in acceptance.

Good. Then tomorrow I will visit the store, and grandfather will give me the tour. If we meet, we can greet like old friends, okay?

Okay. David turned back to his food, not trusting himself to keep meeting those eyes for a moment longer.

The rest of the meal went off too quickly for David, who was unaware of the effect he was having on his guest.

For Martha, the meeting had been as much a trial as it had for David. All her childhood feelings for David had come back in spades. As he walked through the door of Barny’s, his smile as he saw her made her legs turn to jelly. She could not have stood up at that point if she had wanted to.

The conversation throughout the meal had merely confirmed to her that this was still the same boy who had befriended her and sworn to marry her when they both old enough.

Chapter two

Marsha was in the board room when Wendell Marshall came in. Marshall was General Manager of Freemantle Stores. He looked at Marsha then at Albert. And who is this? he said to Albert. You know that visitors are not allowed here without prior permission.

Albert looked at Marshall down his nose, This lady is a guest of the Chairwoman, sir. I was asked to take Ms Hunt on a tour of the store. He turned to Marsha, Ms Hunt, may I present the store General Manager, Mr Wendell Marshall?"

Marsha turned and faced Marshall. Why how do you do Mr Marshall, so you are the General Manger of the famous Freemantle Store. She held her hand out, and Marshall hesitatingly reached out and shook it. His discomfort was apparent as he said, Yes. Well, Albert, I need to use the office just now. so if you don’t mind? Goodbye, Miss Hunt, a pleasure, I’m sure.

He bustled over to the board table, seated himself at the head, and began shuffling through the papers laid there in front of all the places.

Outside the door several men and women were arriving to attend the meeting. They looked enquiringly at Albert and his female companion. Several nodded to Albert and two said hullo.

The private elevator arrived and Mrs Freemantle stepped out, escorted by David.

There was a flurry of Good Mornings, from those assembled.

Mrs Freemantle ignored them and turned to Albert and his companion. Hullo. Albert, you look younger every day, The Company will go bankrupt paying your pension if you don’t pop off soon.

Mrs Freemantle, you have been predicting my demise for forty-five years, and as I told you then I’m not going until I know your place is booked and that’s for sure.

Mrs Freemantle turned to Marsha, You being looked after properly, honey? I’ve given David strict orders that you be taken care of while you’re in New York.

Marsha smiled at her. Granny Freemantle, if David looked after me any better, he would have to marry me! David looked the other way in case his face gave him away.

Granny smiled. He could do a lot worse, sweetie, a lot worse. She turned to the others What are you all waiting for? We have a meeting to attend, so let’s get to it.

Albert watched, as the ante room emptied, That woman scares me. he said with feeling. I have known her all my life and I still cannot read her mind.

They went down the stair to the top sales floor and circulated round the sales area. Over the next hour they covered all the sales areas, as well as, the service area below ground.

Back in Albert’s office they sat with coffee and discussed their morning.

OK, girl what do you have to say about our favorite store?

Grandfather, if something doesn’t happen soon they will not be paying your pension for long.

Explain, girl; are things as bad as I think they are?

"No, but they will be if somebody does not get into action pretty soon. The main problem is that the rather faded charm that still is an attractive feature of the store will become tatty if it allowed to degenerate at the present rate. The whole place needs a considerable face lift. The stock selection requires more discrimination between trade-names, reputation and actual quality.

Where once the name alone would sell a product, every manufacturer is facing the same price rises and all products are becoming subject to compromise. This really means the buyers have to be more selective and if necessary seek new sources and secure them before the opposition interfere and get the advantage.

Well that sounds like common sense, so what are you going to do about it?

Me? It’s not up to me that is a job for the CEO, I don’t even work here.

I have it on good authority that you are the selected candidate for taking this store into the next stage of its development.

And where did you get that idea from?

The best source I know in this place. My own opinion, added to the fact that Grandmother Freemantle herself told me to take you round the store. She never does anything without good reason. When you add that to the fact that David Freemantle is now going to take an active part in the running of the operation here, I would say that you are about to take an active part in the revival of Freemantle’s. I rest my case.

***

The Long Island estate is fronted by sweeping green lawn, bounded on the south east by the waters of Peconic Bay. It is separated by a small stretch of beach that is buffered by the sea wall that runs along the shore, protecting the sculptured lawn from over-enthusiastic waves. To left and right, woodland fringes the grass, providing a backdrop for the house that is the centrepiece of the entire scene.

It is long and low with a double story section on the middle which marks the spot where the original building had stood for the past two hundred years. The extensions have been added at various times, their age an indicator of the financial coupes carried out by the family.

The newest extension is the work of the newest owner, Richard Ellis, a name the owner decided, was much more in keeping, than Ricardo Aiello. To be honest Ricardo does not look like a Ricardo. He was tall, fair-haired with a lithe athletic figure. His fair skin tanned from his preference to train on the tennis court rather than in the Gym. The house was equipped with both. Two tennis courts, with—to the rear of the house—an additional nine-hole golf course.

***

The group of people gathered in the large sunroom which looked out across the water, was a strange bunch.

They ranged from smoothly-shaven,