Tag Archive for 'motor-home sales office'

Mandy drives a Nu Rio and dreams of management

Published on February 2, 2009 in motor home and motorhome. 0 Comments Tags: , , , , , , , , , .

As Mandy entered the motor home sales office the next day, Ruarc who was already in his office, called out to come in and see him. Mandy hung up her coat with a feeling of foreboding, opened the door to his office and stood nervously wondering what was on his mind.

Ruarc, tossed an invoice that had arrived in the post on top of some paperwork that looked suspiciously like yet more unpaid invoices. It was obvious he was a bad mood.

“Gladys is still off sick. We can’t do without her. I need somebody to go around and sort her out. I don’t know whether it’s a girly thing that she’s got so I need a woman on the job. Rita’s no good at this sort of thing so that only leaves you.

“What exactly do you want me to do?”

“Anything that sorts the matter out. We need the motorhome sales office to run properly, we need the suppliers kept happy and we need to make more sales. You know what we need and it’s in your interests to make the firm work so you get paid. Now get around there sharpish so that you can get back to pulling in the motor home rentals.”

“I’m afraid I don’t know where she lives and I haven’t got any transport.”

“Take the Nu Venture Rio motorhome. Its nippy and easy to manoeuvre for parking. Here’s Gladys’ address.”

Ruarc, tossed a set of keys for the Nu Venture Rio motorhome and a note with her address scrawled on it. Mandy saw that it was in the local town.

It had been a few weeks since Mandy had driven anything after being forced to surrender her car back to the leasing company because she couldn’t keep up the payments and it felt great to be behind the wheel again.

The Nu Venture Rio hummed along beautifully and felt hardly different to drive than a large car. The twin bench seats spread out behind her like a pair of wings urging her to fly.

Mandy wondered whether her work duties might become ever more integrated into Ruarc’s business so that eventually she could take a much greater management role.

Ruarc seemed an acute businessman. There was the aspects of his business that Mandy didn’t like but, if the edges could be refined, it was potentially a business that could go far.

To get the feeling of the small motorhome, Mandy took the bypass all the way to the roundabout and then came back almost to Ruarc’s motorhomes before heading off into town.

It would have been so nice just to keep driving … to be free, thought Mandy then, resignedly, headed back.

Gladys’ house was located in a clump of properties that looked as if they were ex-local authority. Mandy easily parked the Nu Venture outside.

The garden gate was rotten and held open by a small boulder although the garden itself was tidy enough. The house had a tired feeling as if an attempt had been made to make it look respectable but with little money to put plans and dreams into effect.

Mandy pressed the doorbell, found it didn’t work and wrapped gently on the door with her knuckles.

A dishevelled man Mandy assumed was Gladys’ husband came to the door and eyed her suspiciously as if she was somebody from the Benefits Office.

My name’s Mandy and I’m from where Gladys works. We were worried about her. Is she in?

“She’s upstairs and not up yet. You can find your way. I’ll be in the back garden with my pigeons if you need me.”

The man retreated, obviously keen to get out from any line of fire.

Mandy closed the door behind her. The hallway was empty and sparse with a covering of lino on the floor. The staircase was to her right and Mandy climbed the stairs feeling intrusive calling out to Gladys as she went.

“What is it?” It was a sound of Gladys’ voice from behind one of the doors.

Mandy knocked on the door and entered saying “It’s only me! Ruarc sent me around because he was worried about you.”

Moral dilemmas and motor homes

Published on January 30, 2009 in motor home and motorhome. 0 Comments Tags: , , , , , , , , , .

When Mandy got back to the motor home sales office, she half expected recriminations. She had no doubt that Ralph had realised it was her before he had shot his gun and no doubt he’d have told his dad.

Instead of a belligerent message, it was a pleasant surprise to find a pile of five pound notes and a scrawled message to say it was her pay to date. She counted the money and was surprised to discover there was even a bit more than her most optimistic hopes. Of course, there were no details about how the amount had been calculated or how it related to the basic salary that had been agreed during her interview.

She threaded her way to the other end of the motorhome into Ruarc’s office where he was going through some advertising copy.

“I thought the quicker we got the word out to the newspapers that we were now renting out motorhomes, the quicker we could get in some money to afford your salary,” Ruarc, muttered. It wasn’t a complaint but he seemed incapable of saying anything that didn’t have a hard edge.

“Thanks for the money,” said Mandy. “I must admit, it was a bit more than expected. But it would be nice to know how it was calculated and shouldn’t you be wanting my P45?”

“I’m not bothered about your P45, if you’re not,” said Ruarc. “I’ve got bigger fish to fry than worrying about paperwork. I need to order some more motor homes to satisfy all the motorhome rentals that I’m sure you’re going to produce for me and that means cosying up to my suppliers and getting motorhome discounts and a good line of credit.”

“I would have thought they would be very keen to get any business at the moment,” said Mandy. “Surely, if you are buying motorhomes in a recession, you’re in a strong position.”

“I may be in a strong position  buying motor homes because of the recession but the discounts I get from these people are exceptional. They are the sort of business people that need a lot of looking after … and they’ll expect some looking after when they come down and do business with me.”

Ruarc, leaned back in his executive chair. His eyes openly dwelling on Mandy’s long black hair, white blouse and tight green skirt that terminated just above her knees.

“You are a good-looking woman, Mandy. Normally Gladys would help me with a lot of the ‘looking after’ but she is not keen on coming in at the moment, what with feeling ill and all that. I could double the cash you have just received, if I could be guaranteed someone special would go away happy.”

Mandy’s eyes widened. She hardly felt shocked because Ruarc’s suggestion was entirely in keeping with the way that she already saw him. His admission that Gladys did not only provide secretarial duties was hardly surprising, given the number of times Gladys had disappeared into Ruarc’s office, with a knowing smile, before locking the door firmly behind her.

“I don’t know whether to be flattered or to be angry,” said Mandy, slowly. “I reckon you have a nerve even to ask me – not to mention legal aspects relating to harassment.”

“Just trying to put a bit of money your way, gal,” said Ruarc. “If you don’t want it, more fool you – there’s plenty of others that will!”

“I’m sorry, ” said Mandy, feeling her throat tightening, ” if you want somebody to serve the canapes and to engage in social conversation or even to negotiate a price, I am happy to help. But, if you want somebody to go with your business friend and and provide personal services, and Gladys isn’t available, I’m afraid, neither am I.”

Ruarc, got up out of his chair, walked over to Mandy until she was convinced that he was going to hit her but instead he merely sneered and walked passed her out of the motorhome office and away to the farmhouse.

Mandy slowly returned to her office to spent the rest of the afternoon telephoning the remainder of her client contact list. The pleasure of receiving her first wages was gone with this new uncertainty in her job prospects.

By the end of the day she had several more possibilities for motorhome rentals but no definite sales. It occurred to her that perhaps Ruarc was expanding his stock a bit too quickly before demand for this new service had properly been quantified. It worried her that she would be expected to satisfy excessive demand in his new business plan.

It also worried Mandy that Ruarc might still hope she would play a part in satisfying not only his business partners demands but also potentially his own in the absence of Gladys.

Ruarc had posed a moral dilemma to Mandy about which her opinion would normally be clear. Yet, scarily, she found herself wondering how far she might be willing to go to save her new job in motorhome sales.

Escaping the motor-home sales office for a walk by the river with Tom

Published on January 29, 2009 in motor home and motorhome. 0 Comments Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , .

Mandy met Tom just down the road from the motor-home sales office as arranged. He was wearing a grey anorak with a hood and jeans. He handed Mandy some egg mayonnaise sandwiches wrapped in cling-film to put in her handbag.

“Something to munch at some stage,” Tom said, with a smile.

“You’re looking more and more like every woman’s dream man each time I meet you,” said Mandy, laughing. “Do you do ironing and clean house too? ”

“Only when I absolutely have to,” said Tom, giving Mandy a peck on the lips.

His welcome felt very natural to Mandy. There was none of the awkwardness between them that had accompanied their first kiss of the previous night.

“There is a public path just over there that runs alongside the river where it might be nice to walk,” said Tom. “I see you’re wearing sensible shoes. It might be a bit wet underfoot.”

“That’s me, sensible, “said Mandy.” I was even a Duke of Edinburgh girl guide when I was younger – a long time ago!”

The sun came from behind the clouds again, and, as they walked, Mandy enjoyed watching the flashes of light on the water with its smooth surface broken by insect life falling from the overhead branches and fish rising to feed.

Tom showed her how to use his binoculars and they watched a Kestrel floating high overhead.

Together, they walked in silence, enjoying the tranquillity and fresh smells of the river. After a while, they stopped to eat seated in the sun on an old wooden bench besides a stile with a sign saying ‘No Entry!’

“That sign is a load of rubbish and completely without any legality,” said Tom, reading from his Ordinance Survey map. “There is a right of way leading through that field.”

Mandy climbed up onto the stile with some difficulty in her narrow fitted green skirt, avoiding the barbed wire that had been placed across the top, and looked out across a field filled with strawberries. She knew Tom had been watching her as she had climbed and that gave her a thrill.

In the distance, a line of farm workers moved steadily across the field picking as they went. It looked like back-breaking work.

Tom joined Mandy on top of the stile. She became very aware of his body and looped her arm around his waist to support her weakening knees.

Tom traced the line of Mandy’s chin then tipped her face and kissed her on the lips. It was a friendly kiss, a kiss of good fellowship but a kiss with growing passion.

Mandy felt her pulse race and her breathing becoming uncontrollable. It had been a long time since she had split up from her husband and there had been nobody since.

Suddenly, there was a loud bang and a crackling noise in the branches of the hedge to her right.

In the distance, a man had detached himself from the line of workers and was shouting angrily.

“What is he saying,” said Mandy. “What was that noise?”

There was another bang and more crackling noises in the branches of the nearby hedge, closer this time.

“My God,” said Tom, “He’s shooting at us! We’d better get down quick.”

Back on the path besides the river and out of sight, they both breathed a sigh of relief.

As they walked back to the VW camper-van, Mandy linked her arm through Tom’s.

“He wasn’t really shooting at us was he Tom?”

“I think he probably just wanted to scare us away. Obviously, he has something to hide.”

“That wouldn’t surprise me,” said Mandy. “The man with a gun looked very much like Ralph, Ruarc’s son. They are a very nasty bunch.”

“I hope you are not thinking of reporting this to the Police,” said Mandy, slowly. “If you do, I could definitely say goodbye to my job and just as it is beginning to go well.”

“I have no doubt that he will be brought to book in the end,” said Tom, with a confidence that was reassuring but left Mandy wondering if he knew something she didn’t.

Motor home sales needed to save Mandy’s job

Published on January 22, 2009 in motor home. 0 Comments Tags: , , , , , , , , .

The next day the sky was overcast and everything looked slate grey outside. As Mandy gazed across to the motor home sales office, it seemed an oasis of light in an otherwise dark and damp day. The weather perfectly matched the way Mandy felt.

Nothing that Ruarc said, when she got to her office, made her feel any better.

“When you going to get a sale out of that Mr Hutchinson,” said Ruarc, belligerently. He had taken his favourite spot leaning against the wall opposite Mandy’s desk with his arms crossed.

“I don’t think he liked the price you suggested for his VW camper van,” Mandy stated flatly. “It was practically insulting.”

“Insulting was it, “Ruarc’s face suddenly became red and suffused with rage. “I’ll give you insulting.” He leaned forward and glared into Mandy’s face.

“Okay, the price you offer is the price you offer. It’s nothing to do with me. I passed the price on to him and there was nothing else I could do. He obviously didn’t like it. I suggested that a bit could be shaved off  the Adria Twin motor home but it didn’t seem to help, however, and I think he’s coming back again so there is always the chance that he might change his mind.”

“We need to make some more sales, gal,” said Ruarc, grimacing. ” It’s almost the end of the month and, at this rate it’ll be you that’ll be paying me wages for you being here.”

It was more than Mandy could take. She stood up angrily, glaring at Ruarc and stabbing her finger at the air between them.

“How dare you say that. After all the hours I have put in and the sales I’ve made, not to mention the cleaning I’ve done of your dirty old motor homes. In return, all I’ve had from the farm shop is a few provisions so that I could eat and some cleaning materials so that I could make that tatty motor home hygienic you are renting me to sleep in and a few threads of curtain material so that I could have some privacy from peeping-toms. Furthermore, why won’t your sister ever tell me how much I spend when I visit the farm shop. I ask each time and she always gives me some evasion. I want to know how much I’m spending as I go.”

“You are spending more than you can afford,” snarled Ruarc, pushing his face into hers. “And you’d better pull your stockings up, otherwise you’ll be out of a job. There’s a recession on you know and you can’t be choosy. Unless this business is profitable we’ll be shedding staff like the thousands of other businesses that are putting their workers on the dole all over the country. It’s your choice. Stay or go. I don’t care. And if you stay, I want more from you. That’s your last warning!”

Ruarc stormed out of Mandy’s office, crashed down into his executive’s seat and, minutes later, Mandy was not surprised to hear him calling for Gladys. Perhaps she knew how to handle him, thought to Mandy. Without any doubt, whatever Gladys did for Ruarc was certain to be out of Mandy’s league.

Wearily, Mandy started going through the telephone lists she had compiled from the visitors’ book and which she had separated into hopeless and not completely hopeless.

Sighing deeply, she started telephoning the ones that she hoped were not completely out of the question once again.

Unfortunately, her original assessment had been largely correct and not one revisit could be squeezed from the list of telephone numbers. By 6 o’clock in the evening, Mandy’s mood was as dark as the evening outside.

Then the telephone rang and it was Tom Hutchinson. He wanted to know if she would like to go with him to a local pub where there was some live music playing that evening.

Lost for any reason why she shouldn’t, but with strong misgivings, Mandy agreed.

Rented garage break-in worries Mandy

Published on January 20, 2009 in motor home and motorhome. 0 Comments Tags: , , , , , .

It was Tom Hutchinson on the telephone and he sounded concerned.

“Mandy, do you remember you told me that your belongings were in a rented garage in the town locally.”

“I did,” said Mandy, already her stomach was beginning to churn.

“I was doing some research for the local newspaper and came across a police report. I don’t know if it relates to your garage and your belongings. I hope it doesn’t but you may want to check to make sure every thing’s all right with your things.”

Mandy felt her throat tightening.

“I’m afraid I don’t actually have transport at the moment,” she said, quietly.

“You don’t need to worry about transport,” said Tom Hutchinson. “I’ll come and collect you.”

“You are a treasure,” said Mandy, simply,  “but it will have to be after 6 o’clock in the evening. I can’t see my boss giving me any time off.”

“I’ll collect you at 6 o’clock, then,” said Tom Hutchinson.

Mandy put down the telephone and wondered whether her life was destined to be nothing but a catalogue of disasters. If such a thing existed called Destiny, hadn’t Destiny already had its pound of flesh?

The afternoon seemed to stretch forever. Mandy mentioned to Ruarc that she would have to go promptly at 6 o’clock. He grumbled but didn’t try to stop her. Mandy didn’t tell him why. She didn’t think he would be bothered.

Midway through the afternoon, Mandy took a ten minute break from the motor-home sales office to get some provisions from the farm shop.

As she passed the large warehouse near the farm, she noticed that the doors were open and no longer locked. It seemed that the human cargo the warehouse had contained had moved out.

Mandy wondered what was now the fate of the poor people who had spent the night there. Could it be that they were illegal immigrants in transit?

Mandy thought it was probably better not to get involved. She had enough problems already. She’d never thought Ruarc’s business interests were likely to be spotless and her job was all that was providing her with food and lodging into the foreseeable future.

However, Mandy reflected, those poor people in the warehouse proved that however bad life seem to get for her, there was always somebody else who was worse off.

At least she seemed to have made one reliable friend in Tom Hutchinson who turned up as promised in his VW camper-van at 6 o’clock precisely to take her to her rented garage storage.