by Rhoda Baxter
She turned back to Alice and smiled. "I guess we'd best go see them, then."
Chapter 4
From: Dr. Evelyn Blackwood
To: Lady Beryl
Sorry Beryl. I meant to call you back immediately, but my son Tom turned up and I got distracted.
I've got to go talk to the party planner about her fee.
Evelyn
##
From: Lady Beryl
To: Dr. Evelyn Blackwood
That's what I wanted to talk to you about. Sally was going to do the ball for free. See if you can persuade this new girl to do the same.
##
From: Dr. Evelyn Blackwood
To: Lady Beryl
Come now, Beryl. I don't think we can ask that. Sally offered to do it because she believed in the charity. This girl knows nothing about the charity. She hasn't even seen Priya's photos.
##
From: Lady Beryl
To: Dr. Evelyn Blackwood
You said she was just starting out. Tell her it's a great networking and advertising opportunity. If all of us in the group tell our friends, imagine the amount of work that could bring for her.
##
From: Dr. Evelyn Blackwood
To: Lady Beryl
Funnily enough, Tom said something similar a minute ago. I shall certainly use that argument as a bargaining tool. I hate doing that sort of thing though. At least Tom's here now. He can help with the negotiations. He's a management consultant. I'm sure he can be ruthless if needs be.
##
From: Tom Blackwood
To: Olivia Gornall
You're never going to believe this. My mother has asked me to help her negotiate fees etc with the party planner. My mother actually asked me for help. Maybe she forgot for a moment and thought I was Dan.
Maybe if I drive a hard enough bargain, I'll scare the girl away. Of course, that might just piss Mum off...
##
From: Olivia Gornall
To: Tom Blackwood
Tough call. Why would she have got you mixed up with your brother? If she wanted someone to identify a bug, she'd ask the entomologist. If she wants some advice with project management, it makes sense that she'd ask the son who's a management consultant. She's not daft.
##
From: Tom Blackwood
To: Olivia Gornall
To be honest, I'm surprised Mum even remembered what I do for a living! She tends to think anything non-academic is basically irrelevant. Anyhow. I'm flattered to be asked.
* * * *
They'd nearly reached the entrance hall when Alice's phone rang again. "The library's just over there." She pointed. "Can you find your own way? Is that okay?"
Stevie watched Alice scurry off, already chatting. The people in this house seemed to live on their phones. She thought of her own phone, safely turned off in her pocket. Perhaps she was just as bad when she wasn't trying to avoid Marsh.
Come to think of it, she had spent a lot of time on the phone when she was a teenager. The main reason her phone wasn't constantly ringing nowadays was because most of her friends were trekking around the Far East on their gap years. Feeling a little lonely and unloved, she walked slowly across the hallway. The door to the library was ajar.
"But Mum, she's just a chit of girl. She has no experience whatsoever." A man's voice, from inside the library.
Stevie stopped.
"I know Louise suggested her," he continued. "But she implied that she's too young and flighty."
What? Stevie blinked. Lou wouldn't say that about her? Surely not? She'd worked for Lou before and there had never been any problem. Well, apart from that one time she organised the flowers for the wrong day.
"She's just a kid, after all. She's barely older than Alice."
Why did people insist on treating her like she was ten years old? First Marsh, then Louise, now this guy who hadn't seen her in nine years. How dare they? All doubts about whether she wanted to take the job vanished. She was going to take this sorry excuse for a party and turn it into a brilliant event. And she would do it without Louise's help. That would show them.
"Hmm," said Evelyn. "Beryl says we should try and press her to do it for free, like Sally did."
There was a pause. Then, "Okay, I suppose that's a good idea. If she's willing to take it on at such short notice, she can't have much else on. So, maybe she'll be desperate enough to do it on the promise that people would recommend her. A loss leader, as it were."
"Well, we can't afford to pay much, anyway," said Evelyn. A spoon tinkled against a cup. "Here you go darling. Have a biscuit as well. I'm glad you're here. I'm so rubbish at negotiating with people."
"Glad to help mother. Glad to help."
Stevie's lips pressed together. A chit of a girl? Desperate? Who did he think he was? He may have grown up and grown handsome, but he was still a prat.
If Evelyn had asked her to do the project for free in return for recommendations from her friends, Stevie would have considered it. After all, Evelyn's friends sounded like exactly the sort of people who would have daughters to marry off and retirement parties to arrange. But now, having heard Tom's cold analysis of how to take advantage of her inexperience, she decided she would drive as hard a bargain she possibly could. She might not take it all at the end, but they didn't need to know that. Lifting her chin up, she rapped on the door and walked in.
Tom was standing by the window, with his back to her. Evelyn was pouring more tea. "Ah Stevie. This is my son Tom. Tom, this is Stevie."
Tom turned round, taking a bite from his biscuit. His eyes widened. For a moment he looked stunned. Then he coughed violently and thumped himself in the chest.
Stevie took a step back, alarmed.
Evelyn reached up and gave Tom a sound smack between the shoulder blades. He gulped and carried on coughing, although there was less urgency to it now.
"I'll be fine in a minute," Tom wheezed, in between coughs. "You carry on."
Evelyn gave him an exasperated look and turned to Stevie. "Anyway, what do you think? Will you take it on?"
"It's certainly a challenging project. There's a lot that still hasn't been taken care of." She gave Evelyn her most businesslike smile. "And you haven't said how much you were willing to pay."
"Well..." Evelyn glanced at Tom, who was still bright red in the face with the effort of trying not to cough. "We were rather hoping that you'd do it for free."
"For free?" She let her voice betray nothing more than mild curiosity.
"Well, Sally, the previous organiser, was doing it for the charity. For free. I mean, the charity committee are pretty influential and wealthy women and some of the guests are likely to be in need of party planners soon. You're sure to get a whole load of recommendations off the back of this one project--assuming you do a good job, of course. Which I'm sure you will."
"Right," said Stevie. "I see." She paused, as though to think it over. "I'm sorry Dr. Blackwood. We seem to have both wasted our time this afternoon. It was nice meeting you." She turned to leave.
"Wait!" said Evelyn. "How... How much did you have in mind?"
Stevie named her sum.
"We can't..."
"That's preposterous," said Tom, having recovered his voice. "You have no experience to speak of. No client recommendations. From what I can tell, you don't even have a proper business to back you up. That sort of sum is daylight robbery."
"And we can't afford that," said Evelyn.
Stevie ignored Tom and concentrated on Evelyn. "I know you can't," she said. "I only have a rough idea of your budget, but from what I can s
ee, you're lucky to break even. That's if you sell at least a hundred tickets. I'm guessing you've sold a load to friends and family and you've got about two thirds of the tickets left to sell. Am I right?"
Evelyn didn't say anything, but a slight twitch gave her away.
"I have an alternative suggestion. I will do the project for the cost of my expenses and forty percent of any profit you make."
"Forty percent! Don't be ridiculous," Tom said.
"Is it ridiculous?" said Stevie. "You have no caterer, no marketing, no plans for publicity and no idea how you're going to fit everyone in the house. The garden looks like the wilds of Borneo and you have this Lady Beryl woman who is so difficult that even a friend can't stand working with her. You have four weeks to get all of this sorted out and you can't afford anyone but me. You can barely even afford me." She took a deep breath. She didn't want to say this, but there was a principle at stake. "Take it or leave it."
Tom gave a short "Ha!"
Evelyn raised her hand and silenced him. "Ten percent."
"Mum..."
"Twenty-five," said Stevie. Twenty-five percent of not very much was still not very much. It was lucky she wasn't doing this for the money.
Evelyn hesitated.
Stevie seized her opportunity. "Great. That's settled then." She strode to Evelyn and shook her hand. "I'll head off now and make some calls. I'll pop by tomorrow to see you with some ideas." She gave Tom a sweet smile. "Nice to see you again, Tom." With that, she turned around and walked out.
As she closed the door behind her, she heard Evelyn say. "I like her."
* * * *
From: Olivia Gornall
To: Tom Blackwood
So, how did it go negotiating the poor girl out of a job?
##
From: Tom Blackwood
To: Olivia Gornall
Not so good. I seem to have lost my touch somewhat.
She got Mum to agree to give her 25% of the profits. Mind you, sounds like there isn't going to be much of a profit from this ball anyway. So I guess it's not such a bad deal after all.
##
From: Olivia Gornall
To: Tom Blackwood
This girl got the better of the famous Tom Blackwood negotiating skills? And she took a job that you didn't want her to get?
Oh, I need details. Tell me everything. And no glossing over the embarrassing bits. I've held your ponytail out of the toilet while you were throwing up. You owe me.
##
From: Tom Blackwood
To: Olivia Gornall
I wish you'd stop going on about that. That was over 10 years ago. I wish you'd just let me get sick in my hair. I could have just washed it and saved myself years of grief.
##
From: Olivia Gornall
To: Tom Blackwood
Yeah, yeah. Now TELL ME!
##
From: Tom Blackwood
To: Olivia Gornall
Since you insist.
Mum gives me a cup of tea and a biscuit. I'm standing there, psyching myself up for battle. Stevie comes in. I turn round, expecting to see a skinny, flat-chested 13 year old with acne and braces. Instead I find myself looking at a gorgeous woman with chestnut brown hair and an amazing figure. In the past few years she's filled out perfectly and in all the right places.
Anyway, she was so stunning, I caught my breath. Unfortunately, I also caught my biscuit. By the time Mum had thumped me and I'd coughed the bloody thing up, I'd lost my edge.
She walked all over us.
There you have it. The details.
Foiled by a custard cream.
Tom
##
From Olivia Gornall
To: Tom Blackwood
LOL! So much for the legendary Blackwood skill and charm. Shame you didn't get to wow your mother with your razor sharp negotiating skills.
I take it you're not as dead set against the girl as you were this morning then.
##
From: Tom Blackwood
To: Olivia Gornall
Well, she HAS effectively agreed to do the gig for the cost of expenses. From what I've seen and heard, this ball isn't going to make any profit. 25% of bugger all is bugger all.
Typical. The one chance I get to show off in front of Mum, I go and choke on a biscuit. I give up. I'm just going to have to live with being the lesser son.
Anyway, I'm planning to avoid going to Mum's until after the ball. I don't want to run into Stevie again. Even if she is rather nice to look at.
* * * *
From: Louise Edwards
To: Stevie Winfield
How did it go with Evelyn? Are you going to take the job?
Call me after 8pm.
I think we need to talk about you and Marsh as well. He's worried about you.
Lou
##
From: Stevie Winfield
To: Louise Edwards
I very much doubt Marsh is worried about me. He's got Jane and the sprog to worry about now. Besides, it's not really any of your business, I'm sorry to say. It's a family thing, between me and my brother.
Chapter 5
From: Vienna Jansen-Verlag
To: Tom Blackwood
Tom Darling, how are you?
It's been the longest time since I last saw you. I'm going to be popping up to Oxford several times in the next three weeks--my client is based up there and prefers for me to come to them. Do you still go and see your mum some Sundays? I could pop up early for my Monday meeting and you could show round your charming mansion. I haven't seen it since your parents started doing it up, I'd love to see what they've made of it.
I haven't seen your mother since the funeral. How is she?
Also, I've got a corporate schmooze coming up on the 23rd of next month. Black tie. Can you do it? Please say you will. I need a body to accompany me and I can't think of a body I'd rather be attached to than yours!
Vienna
X X
##
From: Tom Blackwood
To: Vienna Jansen-Verlag
Vienna
Of course you should go up and see the house. I'm sure Mum will be delighted to see you too. The house looks fabulous. Mum's done a great job finishing off what she and Dad started.
Just give me a bell on the Saturday beforehand, so that I can make sure I'm there to meet you.
Re the company party. Of course. I owe you for the last time.
Gotta go. Work to do.
##
From: Vienna Jansen-Verlag
To: Tom Blackwood
Fantastic that you can come to the event. We can go back to mine afterwards for post party drinks. ;-)
Looking forward to it.
Vienna
X X
* * * *
Stevie spent the next few days furiously brainstorming and making phone calls. She went up to Oxford midweek to meet Evelyn's friends in the charity group. They turned out to be a group of three, all sitting in the library, having tea and biscuits. Stevie accepted a cup of tea and smiled attentively as Evelyn introduced her to the two others.
Both ladies were middle aged and exuded a sort of confidence that came from knowing their strengths. Priya, the lady who was championing that year's charity, was a soft-spoken Sri Lankan. She had brought a folder containing information on the charity, which she showed Stevie. She had lost friends and relatives to the tsunami and her passion for the
cause was contagious. By the time she'd finished, Stevie wanted to help the poor children as much as she could.
Lady Beryl, whom Stevie had imagined to be a large woman, was actually a small, chubby lady with elegantly cut silver hair and perfect posture. Her voice, however, was pure Lady Bracknell. Stevie expected her to say "A handbag?" at any moment.
"There's usually more of us," said Evelyn. "But Jean's ill with bronchitis, Greta is on one of her consulting jaunts and Hilda and June have gone to Australia for a wedding."
"So." Lady Beryl's lips stretched into the shape of a smile, but her gaze was pure steel. "What plans have you got for us then Stephanie?"
"Please, call me Stevie." She opened her notebook. "To be honest, what I have is a long list of questions."
Everyone was watching her with interest, apart from Lady Beryl, who was eyeing her sceptically.
"First of all, the tickets. How many have you actually sold?"
The women exchanged a few glances. "Not as many as we'd like," said Evelyn. "About forty."
"Okay. That's not great. I'm assuming you've approached all your nearest friends and relatives?"
All three ladies nodded.
"So we need to promote this to the wider public. Fine. Now, I gather you haven't done any advertising as yet, is that right?"
More nods.
"Okay, we'll start by taking out an ad in the local paper. I'll phone up and check prices." Stevie wrote this down. "Does anyone know anyone famous?"
There was some silence as the ladies thought about it.
"Why is this relevant?" said Lady Beryl.
"Because, if we can get some famous people backing the cause, we're more likely to get people interested. Especially, if we can persuade the famous person to come to the ball. People will come along hoping to see them."
Lady Beryl digested this. "Sounds awfully...tawdry."
Stevie smiled. "You're right, of course. But needs must. It is a good cause and a little bit of the common touch would be worth it if we can raise more money."
