by Lynn Watson
She picked her way carefully across the green, afraid that her heels might sink in although the mown grass was bone dry. She stepped behind the girl and leant over her snail-like body to look closely, taking care not to touch her. She was wearing so many layers of clothing that Fran couldn’t immediately tell if she was even breathing. She dialled for an ambulance, ignoring the small cluster of people that had gathered on the pavement now that there was some action.
‘Is she unconscious?’ asked the call operator.
‘I don’t know. She could be unconscious, or asleep. Maybe she’s okay. Maybe she’s taken something and is sleeping it off. Shall I just leave her?’
‘Can you put your hand under her nose, just to see if you can feel her breath?’
Fran bent down again and tentatively reached out her hand. Without warning, the girl’s arm lunged up and she grabbed the air with her fist, almost succeeding in getting hold of Fran’s fast-retreating fingers. Fran backed off and, hot with embarrassment and fear, regained the refuge of the pavement, where a larger group had now assembled. The call operator was trying to get her attention back, while Fran’s only wish was to bring this drama to an end.
‘She’s woken up. She’s okay, I think. I must have made a mistake.’
The girl was still lying on the ground in the same position.
‘No problem. From your description, I think she’s known to us. We’ll send a car round to check it out, just in case. Can you wait for a few minutes, to give us an update if necessary or let us know if she runs off?’
Fran was risking being late now, and it was crucial to be punctual and completely reliable. Her voice rose almost to a shriek. ‘No, I can’t wait. I have to be somewhere in a minute. Can I leave her, please? There are other people here.’
She felt a light tap on her shoulder and turned to see a round-faced man smiling at her. His voice was calm and measured; a deep African voice.
‘Don’t worry. I have the time and I am a doctor. I can stay here and wait with her.’
She took a long breath and reached out to touch the man’s arm. He was the only one among the watching group who had not slipped away.
‘Oh, thank you, yes please. I’d really appreciate it, and if you’re a doctor, well, you’ll know what to do much better than me.’
They shook hands as if to seal the pact and she let the call operator know. The man inclined his head and spoke quite formally.
‘My name is Dr Kwesi – my first name, it is easier.’
‘I’m Fran – nice to meet you.’
He gestured ahead, towards the corner café and the shops. ‘Go then, quickly, Fran, you are a busy person. I have the whole day.’
Walking on towards Frocks and Chocs, she took several deep breaths and switched back to rehearsing her key points for the meeting. She managed to arrive on time and found Vicky and Daniela making coffee. Vicky was in light blue jeans, teamed with a long white shirt and high-heeled open sandals. Her hairstyle was different, a bit shorter and more shaped around her face, which accentuated the neo-’60s look and showed off her striking green-and-black earrings. As for Daniela, she had to own a large number of boldly patterned and flowery dresses, as so far she had never worn the same one twice.
Daniela began by saying she aimed to have the new website operational in two months. She stressed again that everything was to be discussed or exchanged on a strictly need-to-know basis and that Vicky and Fran wouldn’t meet the people involved in other stages of the production and distribution chain, unless she felt it necessary.
‘We are operating in an immature and largely unregulated market. That has positives and negatives. Interest in brain enhancement and ways of making humans smarter and more intelligent is growing all the time and it will soon be very big business, as well as a major scientific phenomenon. There is also much ignorance and misinformation around it, so the public and consumers can be easily confused or misled. The opportunities have to be seized now.’
Fran presumed from this that the confusion and misinformation were among the negatives, although it sounded ambiguous. Daniela turned to the big whiteboard behind her desk and brought up a multicoloured graphic headed The Chemical Secrets of Chocolate. She stood aside to let them read through the list of beneficial ingredients.
Flavonoids were top of the list, with the claim that they maintain the elasticity of blood vessels and help to ward off heart disease, as well as stroke and other diseases of old age. Fran remembered that these were also found in blueberry-type fruits, as well as green tea and red wine. Next was caffeine, the well-known stimulant that acts on the central nervous system. After this were four near-unpronounceable chemicals that Fran had never heard of, each with a short description: theobromine, a mild stimulant with mood-elevating effects; tryptophan, which helps the brain make serotonin, promoting feelings of well-being; anandamide, a messenger molecule associated with natural highs similar to the effects of cannabis; and lastly the whopping phenyl ethylamine, a substance that is popularly dubbed the ‘love chemical’, associated with feelings of attraction and excitement.
‘Wow, that’s mind-blowing,’ said Fran. ‘Is it all true?’
She was wondering if there was a need for any additional special ingredient, but she decided not to make a joke of it, in case it was misunderstood or taken badly. Daniela thumped the palm of her hand with the laser pointer as she replied, giving extra emphasis to particularly significant words.
‘I don’t have the direct evidence to hand, but this is about chocolate, remember. People will believe practically anything about the benefits of wine or chocolate. And this graphic comes from an authoritative published source. The problem is that to get real benefit it has to be consumed in concentrated form, at least eighty-five per cent cocoa mass. There are well-funded research programmes going on around the world and it may soon become available as a pill, which will make it even more concentrated and more palatable to most tastes.’
‘Well, yes,’ said Fran, ‘but then the chocolate loses all its sensuality, surely, if it’s in a pill?’
Vicky was still staring at the board, checking out what she was about to say. ‘The interesting thing for us, for Junoco, is what’s missing from the effects. It’s mostly about physical health and mood. There’s nothing about freeing the imagination, stimulating creativity and being inspired to work on your talents.’
‘Yes, that’s right. Junoco is the missing piece,’ said Daniela. ‘What we have to decide is how much we play on the magic formula, as opposed to highlighting the strength and purity of our cocoa beans. On the one hand, the secret element could draw unwelcome attention, but it will also be irresistibly enticing to that section of the public who crave more mystery and adventure in their lives.’
While Fran was considering this, Vicky talked about the need to operate at least two parallel websites, so they could pop up and if necessary disappear at a moment’s notice, using a planned exit strategy. She was also keen to generate a ‘viral buzz’ to draw in a high volume of customers through social media channels. All of this was new territory for Fran and she listened intently.
When Vicky finally paused, Daniela turned to Fran and smiled encouragingly.
‘Fran, you’re deep in thought – tell us.’
They spent the next hour discussing the agenda items that she had prepared: brand identity and design, current and potential competitors, target customer groups, distinctive selling points, promotional partners and so on. At the end, Daniela and Vicky seemed satisfied and Fran had accumulated a long list of new tasks.
The agreed strategy was to begin by attracting individuals who were already using or exploring mind-enhancing products, or who were naturally keen to increase their curiosity and improve their mental performance. The curiosity seekers, Fran branded this group in her mind. Once a certain volume of sales was achieved and they had created the viral buzz, the second stage was to branch out and target large institutions or companies that aspired to be cutting-edge and would
appreciate the value of selling the Junoco truffles or offering them gratis to customers, clients, guests, employees, members, students and so on. Ultimately, the ambition was to make the Junoco brand part of an upmarket and highly enviable culture, with a streak of counterculture, that appealed in particular to the creative, intellectual and business elite.
‘And we’ll do it by stealth,’ added Vicky. ‘No traditional publicity campaign or contact with the press. Everyone involved will have a vested interest in discretion. That way, we can hope to reap our success quickly and quietly, without interference. Isn’t that right, Daniela?’
‘That’s exactly right. And it’s imperative that we are disciplined and watchful and support each other. There will be problems and unknown risks. Don’t expect a picnic, as you say.’
On that note, Daniela dismissed them by saying she was going to make a phone call to her cousin Osvaldo. This gave Fran the chance to invite Vicky back to her house for lunch, although she didn’t feel ready to talk about what they had just heard. It was so ambitious and there were huge implications. She couldn’t get her head round it yet, and she didn’t want to come across as less than wholly enthusiastic and committed.
‘I have to admit, Vicky, I’ve got an ulterior motive, as well as wanting to show you my place. There are glitches with my IT, probably something wrong with how it was set up when I moved in. The different parts of the system aren’t communicating properly.’
On the way home there was no sign of the crumpled girl on the grass, or the kind Dr Kwesi. As they turned the corner, chatting about moving house and the obvious pitfalls you fail to anticipate, Fran saw Lily sitting on the front wall with her scooter beside her and Sahara the hamster nestling in her hands. She stood up and walked towards them.
‘Hello, Fran. I wanted to tell you I am going to Germany on holiday tomorrow and I won’t see you for two weeks.’
‘Ah, okay Lily, thanks. Have a great time and I’ll see you when you get back.’
Lily stood in their path, clearly not wanting to be dismissed so lightly. ‘Can I come in for a minute? My mum’s popped out to the shops and she’ll be back soon. She’s happy for me to come round to yours. I’ve told her that you’re scared of birds getting inside the house, and Marcus is scared of spiders and creepy-crawlies.’
Fran sent a questioning glance over Lily’s head to Vicky, who nodded and appeared relaxed about it.
‘Okay then, just for a short while because my friend Vicky here needs to sort out my computer and then we’re having lunch together.’
Lily turned to Vicky and gave her a deeply suspicious look before stretching out her hands to introduce her to Sahara, who was busy fiddling with her whiskers.
‘Hello, Vicky. I’m Fran’s friend too, and this is Sahara, she’s a girl hamster.’
Once inside the house, and with the scooter parked under the stairs, Vicky set to work on the computer. Lily sat back in the big armchair and took the opportunity to start a conversation with Fran about the cosmos.
‘Did you know there are 100 billion stars in the Milky Way, at least, probably lots more, and that’s just in our galaxy? There are billions and billions of stars in the whole universe.’
‘Yes, I know that – and did you know that there are also 100 billion neurons or nerve cells in our brain? It’s amazing, isn’t it? The stars and the brain cells are alike, in a way, and both are still mysterious, there’s so much more to discover.’
Lily was quiet for a few seconds, struck by this coincidence and how you could play with it. ‘What if, instead of the 100 billion nerve cells, I had the 100 billion stars in the Milky Way inside my brain – like they got mixed up somehow?’
Fran laughed. ‘Your head would be all lit up at night and it would twinkle more and more as the stars came out. But I’m not sure what would happen if your brain cells were spread out across the sky. They might get taken off by aliens and used for good or evil. It’s a fantastical thought, Lily.’
‘You’re clever, Fran; that’s one reason I like you.’
‘You’re even cleverer, because you’re only eleven and you know so much.’
Lily pondered this for a moment. ‘I am clever but I’m not cool. It’s okay. I don’t want to be cool and I don’t want a new phone either, though nearly everyone has one. Sahara is much better, more fun.’
‘Well, I think you’re great, Lily, and I’m glad we’re friends. I wanted to ask, does your mum come from Germany?’
‘Yes, she’s from East Germany, when she was a child. Now it’s all one country, Germany.’
‘Are you going to see your brother when you’re there – Ferdi, isn’t it?’
‘Yes. I’ll stay with my dad and Ferdi lives with him. Do you see your little sister, the one you said you missed?’
Fran flinched, taken aback by the direct question. She had started this line of conversation by mentioning Marina previously. It wasn’t fair to shut it down now.
‘I did see her recently, but not in real life; more in a dream or a memory.’
This was hopeless; she was acting like her parents. You had to talk honestly to children. Lily in particular was well able to handle it, and she would probably be more curious than upset.
‘Actually, Lily, I’m sorry to tell you that my sister, who was called Marina, died when she was only two years old. It happened a long time ago.’
She looked up and saw that Vicky had stopped work on the computer and was listening too. The sense of release, the relief at knowing that her new friends had heard and taken in this simple statement of fact, was immense.
Chapter 6
She had just finished wrapping items for a customer when Vicky called. Daniela wanted to see them urgently and another sales assistant was coming in to look after the shop. When Vicky arrived and they went up to the office, Daniela was on the phone talking in Spanish, her tone of voice indicating barely suppressed frustration. Ending the call curtly, she threaded her fingers through her hair and stared down at the desk for a full minute. Then she looked up at them, regaining her composure and apologising for bringing them in at such short notice. She had to warn them that someone had approached her, not through the temporary website but at her local jive class the previous evening. Whoever it was, they had quite unnerved her.
‘Who on earth was it, Daniela? What did they want?’ asked Vicky.
‘Did you know them?’ added Fran.
‘It was a man in his forties, smartly dressed and quite a talented dancer, I have to say. It’s a class where you change partners every few minutes and in the short time we were going through the standard moves, he informed me that we were involved in the same line of business. He didn’t mention Junoco or chocolates, but I knew immediately it wasn’t Frocks and Chocs he was interested in.’ She paused for dramatic effect.
‘What happened after that? Did he reveal anything else?’ Vicky prodded.
‘He said his boss was interested in coming to a business arrangement with me and there would be mutual benefit in working together, each bringing different things to the party, as he put it.’
‘What kind of business is it? What are they proposing?’ asked Fran.
Daniela shot her a withering look. She shouldn’t have spoken up; should have just listened and digested, instead of wading in like that.
‘I didn’t ask him. It’s a veiled threat, don’t you see, it’s not a serious business proposition. I’ve got something the boss wants, that’s the point, and he is sending a message to show he intends to get it, one way or another. The middleman wasn’t going to tell me anything more – who the boss is or what he does – and I didn’t tell him anything about Junoco either.’
Fran sat back and sighed inwardly, cursing her naivety. Vicky spoke next, very deliberately as she was still absorbing the information. She would hit the right note, unlike Fran with her brainless questions.
‘He knows about Junoco’s unique formula, not the fact there is one because that’s already public knowledge on the website.
Either he knows what our added ingredient is or, more likely, he wants to find out and thinks he can intimidate or con you into telling him. It’s odd, though, approaching you at a dance class, don’t you think? It’s generally a furtive, park bench type of thing.’
‘That’s why I was speaking to Osvaldo when you came in. He swears it has nothing to do with him. Have either of you told anyone or dropped any hints about the forest berries or the birds?’
Fran felt confident that she had stuck to the official ‘natural product’ description and not given away too much when she made Ned her Junoco partner. She also realised that because of Judi’s death happening when it did, she hadn’t reported back to Daniela and Vicky on Ned’s Junoco experience. This was well worth recording, as he had found himself writing fluent and expressive letters to his daughters in French, which over the years he had allowed to become rusty from disuse.
‘No, we haven’t told anyone, but it wouldn’t take much to find out,’ said Vicky. ‘If you were curious enough and had access to the right lab equipment, you could get the truffles analysed, although the test wouldn’t identify the exact type of berries if they are still unknown to the outside world.’
‘Right then, thank you both,’ said Daniela, standing up abruptly and speaking with an air of authority intended to discourage any speculation. ‘We operate with high vigilance – report to me if anyone approaches you, online or in person, or if you have a suspicion or bad feeling about any of your contacts. Also, no one must find out that Junoco is managed from above the shop. This building is Frocks and Chocs, nothing else.’
They had another half-hour before Fran had to relieve the sales assistant in the shop, so she and Vicky slipped out to the café.
‘To be honest with you, Vicky, I feel quite shaken by this latest development. Is it okay, do you think – above board, I mean, and safe, or at least not wildly risky? Am I being a wimp, worrying about it? Do tell me I am because I love Junoco already, we’re having fun and who knows, we might even make a fortune out of it.’
