Tag Archive for 'motorhome'

Time for Mandy to party at Ruarc’s motor-home sales business

Published on February 13, 2009 in motor home and motorhome. 2 Comments Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , .

Mandy looked with concern over at her boss Ruarc who was standing, smiling and waving the caravans and motor homes containing his family onto the grass. He ambled over, still grinning.

“You’re looking worried, Mandy” he said. “You don’t need to be. Just relax and enjoy yourself. My family knows what to do. It’s been a successful day for the motorhome sales business and now you are off duty – and that’s an order!”

“Er, am I invited to the party?”

“Gal, if you didn’t come, I’d come and get you. Now get a drink in your hand and start enjoying yourself.”

Ruarc, waved his hand at the rest of the motorhome sales team gathered around.

“And that applies to the rest of you too. You’ve worked really hard and come up with the results. Well done! Now party!”

Ruarc’s family seemed to know exactly what to do to set the party going and it was as if a well oiled machine had gone into action. A hog roast suddenly appeared with a fire underneath wafting wonderful smells across the grass. A few yards away, a bar was set up with barrels and bottles with not one proprietary trademark in sight. Mandy suspected this was some of the famous Irish hooch she’d heard of.

A band started up with guitars, accordions, violins and flutes and a couple of young girls leapt into the circle doing an Irish step dance besides the hog roast. Within minutes the field was alive with the sound of Irish music, dancing and laughing.

Mandy saw Ralph link arms with Katerina and take her onto the dance area. Ruarc, commandeered Gladys who seemed very pleased to be chosen. Suddenly Mandy felt alone. She had worked so hard for this day and it looked as if her job was secure at least for a while into the future. But, even as the party-goers jigged and reeled around her, there was an emptiness that made her heart ache.

Suddenly, she felt a tap on her shoulder and, when she turned around, there was the smiling face of Tom Hutchinson. She slowly and uncertainly returned his smile then he grabbed her by the arm and dragged her into the dancing area.

They ate, danced and drank their way through the night until it was well past midnight and completely dark except for the fires flickering flames which sent wisps of smoke away into the night. People were everywhere in couples and threes, just talking, catching up with each other, some kissing and cuddling and finding privacy in the dark among the motorhomes and caravans.

Mandy and Tom sat with their arms around each other on a log outside Mandy’s motorhome. Suddenly, Katerina and Ralph emerged out of the darkness.

“I go stay Ralph tonight,” Katerina said, cheerfully. She pointed to the farmhouse. “I OK!”

“Are you sure?” said Mandy, looking worried.

“I sure, Ralph promise be nice.”

As they disappeared off into the dark, Tom and Mandy exchanged smiles then Tom kissed Mandy long and deeply.

A long time later, Tom said quietly:

“I suppose this means you will be alone in your motor-home tonight.” He had a cheeky grin on his face.

“I don’t think so,” said Mandy, “if you are the man I think you are!”

Then she squealed as Tom lifted her into his arms and carried Mandy inside her motor home.

The End – for now …

Mandy confronts Rita about the motor home sales promotion

Published on February 11, 2009 in motor home and motorhome. 0 Comments Tags: , , , , , , , , , , .

“Rita, making motor home rental sales is the whole point of running the motor home competition. It’s a motor home sales promotion. It might be a lot of fun and enjoyable for us and for the people entering the competition but at the end of the day it is aimed at getting more motorhome rental and motorhome hire sales.”

Mandy was facing Rita across the counter of the farm shop and Rita’s face was set in an uncooperative glare.

“Even the councillors from the Council are possibly an important future part of your motorhome business activities. So it’s not really just a party or a celebration from the motorhome business’s point of view.”

“Are you suggesting that I shouldn’t have invited my family. You are getting too hoity toity, gal – too hoity toity by far,” hissed Rita.

“I’m not suggesting that you shouldn’t have invited your family,” said Mandy, inwardly seething at Rita’s stupidity. “all I’m trying to do is make sure the motorhome business runs efficiently on a very important day that may well determine its success throughout the next year – which is already bound to be a very difficult year because of the recession.”

“You are meddling in things that are not your affair,” snarled Rita, wiping her nose with the back of her hand.

Mandy grasped at a final straw.

“Okay, what time have you told them to turn up? Perhaps they could come after all the selling has been done and we could have a party that was more for family and friends and, hopefully, to celebrate a great day’s business.”

“Oh, you don’t need to worry about that. Our family knows when parties start and won’t be arriving until the evening. What party would ever start before the evening? Are you stupid, gal?”

Mandy almost fell over with relief. The motorhome sales area was open from 11 o’clock in the morning for visitors with the prize presentation at 2 o’clock. According to her plan, it would definitely be completely finished well before the evening.

“Thanks, Rita, “she sighed, gratefully.” I’m so glad that’s sorted out,” and made her escape.

Mandy negotiates motor-home cleaning and Web site design despite opposition from Ralph

Published on February 5, 2009 in motor home and motorhome. 0 Comments Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , .

Ruarc had told Mandy that she would find Ralph at the bottom end field which was their name for a part of the farm that Mandy had not yet visited. All she knew was that it was the centre of the agricultural activities for the farm and could only be accessed by following a narrow farm track with high earthen hedges on each side.

Wearing a pair of yellow Wellingtons in her lunch break, Mandy took the bull by its horns and trudged off to see Ralph.

Fifteen minutes of walking later, at the end of the farm track, Mandy came into a clearing where there were several caravans clustered in a square. In the middle, several pieces of outdoor furniture were strewn around providing seating and eating facilities.  Resting where they could find a space were about fifteen workers, men and women, looking extremely tired. Some were seated on the ground with their backs to the caravans and others were perched on the benches.

Ralph was reading a magazine in a comfortable camping seat. He gave Mandy a crooked smile and dropped the magazine on the grass besides him, making sure Mandy could see the naked female pin-up that was on its front cover.

“So you thought you would pop out to give me some more target practice, did you?”

Mandy considered a sharp response to Ralph’s stupid behaviour the previous day with his shot gun and even more foolish comments. But instead, just shook her head wearily and tried a more friendly approach.

“Ralph,” she said, brightly. “I’m trying to improve the level of service that we offer to motorhome customers by providing them with more information as to what checks have been done on the motorhome before it is made available for motor home rental or motor-home sales. I wondered whether you would be willing to make a list of all the things you do, perhaps a check list that I could put on the side of each motorhome together with details of engine size, van length and any guarantee offered.”

“I could also wipe your bum,” said Ralph, helpfully.

Then his face transformed into a snarl.

“Are you absolutely out of your mind. Where am I going to get the time to do that? And what makes you think I actually do anything anyway? The motorhomes come in and go out and whatever guarantees you give about their condition are not in writing so customers can prove nothing.”

Mandy tried to stay calm and reasonable, although her pulse was already racing with anger in response to his naked aggression.

“But that is exactly the problem, motor homes come in but they will never be sold these days unless customers are confident enough to buy them or to rent them. Part of the reason why we haven’t been making enough sales is because of the lack of customer confidence. Our customers need to be confident about the state of the motor home they are buying so they can drive away full of their dreams and not be worrying about practicalities like breaking down.”

“As you can see,” Ralph waved, indicating the field workers, “I’ve already got plenty on my hands. You want it done, you do it!”

“Well, OK, could you spare one of your workers on a regular basis to go through the motorhomes and clean them, say once a week. The motorhomes get dusty quickly and it doesn’t help with selling them or renting them out.”

“I don’t get this,” said Ralph. “It’s all about what I can do for you. What about you doing something for me.” He picked up the magazine and stroked the naked female body in the photograph to indicate what he had in mind.

Mandy felt she’d just about had enough and was getting ready an extremely sharp reply when a small voice spoke up from a young woman who was resting her back against one of the caravan wheels.

“If you want some cleaning done, I would be happy to help.” She had a strong accent that sounded East European.

Ralph looked down at her and set his mouth in an expression of distaste.

“I suppose you could have her!” Ralph indicated with his thumb. “I have!” He smirked at his play on words.

“She’s no damn good in the fields – too weak. I was going to send her back when the gangers next come around.”

Mandy looked at the woman. She was young and skinny, almost emaciated.

“I’m willing work hard but I am office worker at home,” the woman with the tiny voice said. “But I can clean good and also good on computer, if need  office work.”

A gleam came into Mandy’s eye. Rita had consistently refused to talk to Mandy about the Web site which still needed updating and which would need a lot of maintenance to record the promotional motor-home competition results and the extensive presentational improvements that Mandy wanted.

“Have you done any Web site design?” Mandy enquired.

“At home, I am computer programmer – of course.” The woman’s eyes were bright with hope.

“What are you doing here?”

“I wanted building new life where pay better – not intention work field.”

“You want her, you take her,” interrupted Ralph, “but you’ll have to pay her and give her time off when I feel like coming around. He made a rude gesture with his hand.”

Mandy made a snap decision.

“Come on,” she said to the girl. “Let’s get out of here.”

As they walked away from the small caravan encampment, Ralph was leading the workers back to the fields.

“My name Katerina. He Devil. Do bad things me. Please no want see again,” the young woman said.

Mandy nodded, hoping she could keep her promise.

Mandy’s discount motor-homes and motor home competition plan to beat the recession

Published on February 4, 2009 in motor home and motorhome. 0 Comments Tags: , , , , , , , , , , .

On arriving back at the motor-home sales office after seeing Gladys in her home, Mandy had outlined her plans to Ruarc and got a grudging acceptance.

A week later Mandy’s strategy for expanding the motorhome sales business was already under way. In fact everything was really going very well with the exception that she had not heard from Tom Hutchinson.

Even Ruarc seemed pleased.

“Well done gal, said Ruarc, “It’s a bit different to the ways we are used to but its no time to be picky. I’ll hold off the deliveries on the  new motor homes from my supplier for a few weeks, just to be on the safe side, as you suggest.”

Gladys had come back off sick too, and, for a change, she was getting down to work instead of merely filing her nails. She still hadn’t been paid but Ruarc had agreed, at Mandy’s suggestion, that she could have the use of a smart little Romahome motorhome to drive too and from work and for the occasional holiday.

The Romahome motor home was small, compact, agile in traffic and economical on fuel. Plus there was no other way that Gladys and her husband were otherwise  likely ever to be able to afford a holiday so this was a good holding plan. However, Gladys would need paying eventually and her wage arrears caught up.

Mandy had also taken over writing the motor-home advertising copy, with the proviso that it be approved by Ruarc before going for publication.

Her first strategy was to extend the motorhome sales business mailing list with a  promotional competition. People could win the prize of a free motorhome holiday for two weeks by providing the best description of what they would do with the motorhome if they won.

The competition was designed to identify people who had some sort of interest in obtaining a motorhome, ‘qualifying customers’ as Mandy described them to Ruarc. The recession meant that many of them had delayed their plans even to look at motorhomes. But, if they could be persuaded to come forward, perhaps ways and means could be devised to provide them with a motor-home despite the recession.

If Ruarc’s motorhomes could supply people with the motorhome of their dreams at a cost that was acceptable to both, however big the discounts, the business was working, decided Mandy.

“It’s all a matter of flexibility,” she had said to Ruarc. “The closer we can get to our prospective customers the better we will be able to create opportunities for the motorhome business.”

Gladys looked happier too. Mandy had given her the job of ringing around prospective customers and arranging their visits to Ruarc’s motorhome sales so they could choose the motorhome they wanted for two weeks, if they won the motor-home competition. She was very chatty on the phone and did the job well. It meant that Mandy could spend her time dealing with the customers personally when they arrived and it was a system that was beginning to work with one motorhome hire sale made already when a young couple decided, bearing in mind the discounts, they would go ahead and take a rental immediately with the chance of an extra one for two weeks later in the year, if they won the competition.

When Mandy confronted Ruarc, in his office and suggested that the best use of the income from the young couple’s motor home rental sale was to bring Gladys wages up to date, after a lot of harrumphing, he grudgingly agreed.

“Gladys is doing a very good job on the telephone bringing in the motorhome sales leads. We need her to be motivated and she can’t work properly if she’s worried about paying her own bills at home,” said Mandy, persuasively.

That day Gladys went home looking really pleased and the day after she was in early to the motor-home sales office and Mandy could see she was now giving the job her full commitment.

With Ruarc’s motorhome sales marketing now on an even keel, Mandy turned to other practical aspects of the business. These involved Ruarc’s son Ralph. She approached Ruarc with her ideas and he, after considerable discussion, gave her the OK.

“He’s got a mind of his own, though. He’s not really interested in motor-home sales and he doesn’t like being told what to do, especially by a woman.”

“I’ll try my best to deal with that,” promised Mandy. “But our priority is to shift motor-homes and his help is absolutely necessary.”

Mandy pays a home visit and admits to having further plans for the motor-home business

Published on February 3, 2009 in motor home and motorhome. 0 Comments Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , .

Gladys was sitting up in bed looking worried as Mandy entered her bedroom. She didn’t look ill but she didn’t look happy either. She’d obviously decided attack was the best form of defence.

“I suppose Ruarc wants to know when I’m coming back to work for him, well he can go and take a running jump. I haven’t been paid for two months and no pay no Gladys is my new rule and I don’t take kindly to him sending people to check up on me.

“I’m not checking up on you,” said Mandy, taken aback at the outburst. “May I sit down.”

Gladys hesitated, nodded and Mandy sat down gingerly at the end of her bed.

“Ruarc said he was worried about you and wanted the know if there’s anything he could do to help.”

Mandy was making it up as she went along. It didn’t sound as if Gladys was coming back to work and the fact she hadn’t been paid for two months made her position, in Mandy’s eyes, seem very reasonable.

“He’s probably more worried about his creature comforts than the motor home business and disappointed I’m not providing them any more,” said Gladys, archly.

“I think your personal relationships are between you and Ruarc,” said Mandy, evenly. “I can only talk about the business.”

“The business is going bust,” said Gladys, aggressively. “It’s been on its last legs for years and the recession is making it go completely belly up.”

“I don’t think you can assume that,” said Mandy. “I’ve made a couple of sales of motor homes, recently, and the new motor home hire and motor home rental options means that people don’t have to find so much money to be able to afford to drive a motorhome away. After all, motor home holidays might even become more popular if people stop going abroad for their holidays because of the economic downturn.”

“Okay,” said Gladys, looking Mandy in the eye, “bottom line – tell me straight – did you get paid this month?”

“I must confess that I did,” sighed Mandy, “but I think only because a rental sale I’d made the day before provided the cash to pay me. Of course, there was a complete lack of any wages paperwork which is an irregular way to go about things.”

“Everything at Ruarc’s motorhome business is irregular, often highly irregular, you just can’t imagine how irregular” said Gladys. “The whole family comes from a gypsy background and they’ve never properly integrated with the rest of society. They have their own way of doing things because they don’t know any better. When they purchased that corner of the old airfield for a motor homes business, we locals thought that they wouldn’t last very long but that was five years ago and slowly they seemed to expand, buying up farmland and building their business, apparently successfully. The local people usually take a long time to accept newcomers, I should know, I’ve lived here all my life. And it doesn’t help that they’ve never made any effort. I only went to work because it was a last resort. It provided me an income for a couple of years but now the business looks finished and there’s nothing else locally in prospect. My husband is only interested in his pigeons and keeping the Benefits Office off his back so he’s as much use as a burst tyre.”

A tear trickled down Gladys’ cheek which she rubbed away defiantly with the back of her hand then pulled the blankets up to her chin as if to keep her safe from a threatening world she couldn’t control and didn’t understand.

“If you won’t come back to work again, I suppose you’ll need to send Ruarc your resignation, together with your reasons why,” said Mandy, feeling the whole visit was looking like a waste of time.

“But I wish you would give the business another chance. I have some ideas that I really think could work and the more people to help bring them to fruition, the more chance they have of success.”

“What ideas?”

“I’d rather not say,” said Mandy, cagily. “Especially if you are not going to be working with us any more. It would be revealing business secrets. I think you have to make a decision about whether you are going to come back first before I can say more.”

Gladys looked at Mandy, as if trying to sum her up.

“I’ll have to think about it,” said Gladys, finally. “Can you see yourself out?”

It was a relief for Mandy to be driving the Nu Rio motorhome back to the sales office. She wondered whether the ideas that were slowly germinating in her head really would be successful and whether the revenues generated would be enough to pay Gladys and herself, especially after Ruarc’s family had taken their slice.

Mandy resolved to approach Ruarc with her ideas for beating the recession and saving the motor-home sales business as soon as she got back.

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.”

Motorhome hire and rental – Mandy implements her plan.

Published on January 28, 2009 in motor home and motorhome. 0 Comments Tags: , , , , , , , , .

Back in her office, Mandy set about putting her motorhome rental and motorhome hire plans into action. With her best smile on her face, in the hope her smile would be conveyed down the telephone line, she started ringing the telephone numbers on her list of recent visitors to the motorhome sales office.

Almost immediately, she had a success. A middle-aged couple she remembered well because they were so nice and polite had been thinking of buying a motor home so they could travel around Scotland but had been put off going ahead because of the dire economic news in the UK.

They were thrilled by the idea that they could try the motorhome experience for several weeks or even months without committing themselves to any large capital expenditure. The sale was practically made even before they had decided on any specific motorhome.

Ruarc, hearing the excitement in her voice, came into her office and lounged against the motorhome wall with his hands deep in his pockets.

When she suggested the couple come in at lunch time to sign the deal and select the motorhome they would like, he gave her the thumbs-up sign.

As she put down the telephone, Ruarc even looked slightly less belligerent than usual.

“Well done, gal,” he said. “You’re definitely on to something – keep it up.” Then he sauntered back to his office to get the paperwork ready.

A warm glow spread through Mandy’s body. She had succeeded in doing something successful. Although she didn’t respect or give a damn about what Ruarc thought normally, it had been a while since she had received praise from anybody and it felt good.

Tom Hutchinson rang later in the morning suggesting they should get together for a lunchtime walk. When she mentioned to Ruarc that she would be out of the motorhome sales office for a while at lunchtime, he hardly seemed bothered.

“I’ll look after the motorhome sales while you’re away,” he said, magnanimously.

“Where’s Gladys this morning,” queried Mandy.

“She’ll be in later, I expect, ” said Ruarc, non-committedly. “She rang this morning to say she had a touch of sickness.”

He looked rather uncomfortable and Mandy thought it wise not to question him further. Perhaps Ruarc thought Gladys’s illness might be something for which he could possibly be held to account and which might prove expensive.

Mandy went back to telephoning prospective rental clients. Occasionally she caught herself dreaming about a house in the country, children and security. With a secret smile, she realized that the man with his slippers by her fireside looked very much like Tom Hutchinson.

Motor home hire – Mandy prepares do or die strategy

Published on January 26, 2009 in motor home and motorhome. 0 Comments Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , .

The next morning Mandy arrived at work feeling in a good mood. Music from the little wind-up radio had cheered her as she woke up in her ancient motor home and the tiny trickle of water from the old motorhome’s shower had even felt a bit warmer and more plentiful than usual.

After crossing the short stretch of grass between the motor home where she slept and the old motor-home that served as the business sales office, she immediately saw a note on her desk from Ruarc, her boss, in his untidy scrawled handwriting.

‘Staff meeting 11 o’clock prompt at the farmhouse with Ralph and my sister. Be there! And you’d better have some ideas about how this motor-home sales business is going to make money – or else!’

Mandy sat down at her motor home sales desk and wondered if this was going to the last day of her employment. Of course, it was completely unfair for them to expect her come up with solutions that they had probably missed for years and, anyway, perhaps there  weren’t any. The UK, like the rest of the world, was a recession and people were not buying motor homes, cars, boats or anything else that cost a lot of money.

Mandy sat down at her desk and leafed through the comments left by the visitors who had taken a look at the motor homes but decided against buying. Perhaps there were aspects of the business prospective customers might have criticised which could be improved – apart from customer care when Mandy wasn’t around, she thought bitterly.

Several visitors had mentioned the lack of an up-to-date Web site. It seemed that they were unable to identify whether there was any new stock. They thought it was a long way for them to drive just to find out the same motor homes were available as at their last visit.

Also a telephone call was not as good as a picture, especially as in one case the poor customer had been told that there was new stock only to arrive and find the new stock, probably entirely fictitious, had just been sold.

Perhaps a new or more up-to-date motor home sales Web site would give Mandy an excuse for ringing around her list of previous visitors and jolt somebody into action.

Mandy looked out through the window of her little office. The window really did need cleaning and the draught caused by the window being partially open all the time to allow the telephone wire through was still a nuisance.

The motor homes stood, solidly and immovably in the weak sunshine. They were a dream of adventure and freedom but they were also very expensive.

To buy a motor-home, the prospective owner had to put down a large amount of money, perhaps from a retirement settlement, or they had to be able to raise credit from a lender and credit was exactly what had stalled with the credit crunch.

It was a pity, Mandy mused, that the motor homes couldn’t be rented out until the economy got better. Motor home hire would help people who wanted a go on holidays and it would help Ruarc’s business because it would provide him with a positive cash flow. He might even be able to keep his suppliers happy by taking on some more motor homes, perhaps even provided on credit from his grateful suppliers.

Armed with these two ideas and wishing that she was armed with a crowbar  to knock some sense into Ruarc and his family, Mandy crossed the grass to the farmhouse where the motor home sales meeting was to be held.

Mandy goes dating and receives more than expected

Published on January 23, 2009 in motor home and motorhome. 0 Comments Tags: , , , , , , , , .

Tom Hutchinson picked Mandy up outside the motorhome sales office and drove through the night until they reached a quiet country pub.

Before they went into the pub, Tom Hutchinson passed Mandy a package.

“This is for you,” he said, smiling.

“What you mean, for me,” Mandy said in surprise.

“You mentioned the other day you didn’t have a radio. It must be very dreary living in that motorhome with no music. It’s a wind-up radio so even if your electricity gets cut-off you will still be able to listen to the music and keep up with the news.”

Mandy opened the package and gazed at the blue radio inside. Experimentally, she tried winding the handle and watched the green charging light indicate she was charging the battery. She pressed the on switch, tuned and listened for a moment to some classical music.

“It’s beautiful and just what I need. Thank-you,  I really don’t know what else to say. It’s so expected.”

“It can be the start of your new collection of household belongings,” said Tom Hutchinson. “The first of many nice things I hope. Now, let’s eat!”

Inside the pub, it was warm and welcoming. There was a man sitting on a high chair singing songs from the ’60s. The menu was simple but looked inviting. They both chose chicken in a basket and shared a bottle of house white wine.

For Mandy, after days of surviving on omelettes and fruit, even the chips were very tasty indeed and she suddenly found she had a very good appetite.

They talked inconsequentially – about their previous lives, where they went to school, previous relationships but never about the future. For Mandy, the future was completely obscured as if by an impenetrable fog and Tom Hutchinson didn’t appear to want to share with her any of his dreams.

At the end of the evening, they drove back together and arrived at the motorhome sales just before midnight. For a few moments they sat in the campervan feeling uncomfortable.

Then Mandy broken the ice by leaning over, turning Tom Hutchinson’s face to hers and gently kissing him on his lips.

“It’s been a lovely evening and thank-you for the radio,” then she opened the VW campervan door and got out.

Tom Hutchinson waited until she’d got the door to the motorhome open before starting up the VW campervan and driving off with a cheery wave.

Inside the old motorhome, Mandy’s switched on her new radio to a music channel. It really lit up the small motorhome and made it a much better place. Clever Tom!

As she climbed into bed, she thought of Tom Hutchinson and that perhaps life really might get better for her sometime in the near future.

With the radio still on, she fell asleep and for the first time since moving into the old motor home between the trees on the edge of the wood, Mandy heard no screaming that night.

Lunch breaks not allowed at motorhome sales office for Mandy

Published on January 19, 2009 in motor home and motorhome. 0 Comments Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , .

“Where in the blue blazes did you get to over lunchtime,” snarled Ralph, catching Mandy as she returned from helping the young couple who had been interested in an old Pilote motorhome.

“Gladys has gone off with my dad and I’ve been trying to manage a farm and the motorhome sales all at the same time. The sales office was locked so I almost had to refuse a delivery of some goods for the farm. In the end, I had to get in through the window by your desk to get the keys to the farm warehouse.”

Mandy pushed past Ralph then, unable to let his remarks go without comment, turned and gave him a withering stare.

“I was out with a customer demonstrating a motorhome, if you want to know,” said Mandy. “And I was doing it in my lunch break too – so you cannot possibly have anything to complain about. If your father hasn’t provided you with a key to the motorhome sales office, it’s not my fault.”

Mandy was pretty sure that Ralph must have been given the key to the office but assumed he’d probably lost it. She stalked off to the motorhome sales office, let herself in and set about getting cleaning materials out of the cupboard to remove the foot marks Ralph had left on her desk.

Ralph stormed into the office, towering over her threateningly.

“You are getting a lot too big for your boots, madam,” he said. “You’d better learn which side of the bread is buttered or you’ll be really sorry – and I reckon I’m gonna be the one that’ll teach you.”

With that he snarled and pushed Mandy’s desk forward so that she was pinned in her chair against the motorhome wall.

Mandy gasped as the breath was knocked out of her but, angry now, was undeterred.

“Okay, but why take it out on me? Why don’t you complain to Gladys or your dad? Where are they?”

“Yeah, my dad and Gladys are probably comfortable somewhere her husband doesn’t want to know about – fat lot of help they are.”

“All right, if I’m the only one who is here to help you then let me help you instead of shouting at me and assaulting me,” screamed Mandy at the top of her voice.

Her screaming seemed to get through to Ralph because he eased up pressure on Mandy’s desk and let her push it back into its old position.

“Perhaps you could help, after all” he muttered, turning on his heel. “Do you speak any languages?”

“A bit of French, a bit of Italian. I travelled pretty widely with my husband and his job over most of Europe. It gave be a smattering of quite a few languages.”

“You’d better come with me then,” said Ralph.

He took her over to the warehouse and Mandy could hardly believe her eyes. Spread all over the floor on mattresses like flotsam and jetsam were people who looked very much the worse for wear. There was an overpowering smell of body odour and a young woman was crying in the corner.

“Ask that woman why she won’t shut up,” demanded Ralph. “She’s upsetting the rest of them and they need to sleep to be ready for tomorrows crop picking.”

Mandy looked at the woman. She looked East European. As an opening gambit, Mandy tried speaking to her in French.

“Madmoiselle, Pourquoi est-ce que vous pleurez.”

Recognition suddenly flooded into the eyes of the young woman, already flooded with tears. She replied, also in French, although Mandy guessed it wasn’t her first language.

“J’ai besoin de quelques tampons périodiques.”

Mandy turned to Ralph.

“Does that give you a clue, Ralph? Tampons – comprenez – understand!”

“OK, I get it, grumbled Ralph,” mollified and beginning to get red faced. “I’ll get some from the farm shop. You can go back now and look after the sales office until my dad gets back.”

It was well past 6 pm but Mandy didn’t argue. She would have agreed to almost anything to get away from the smell in that warehouse.

As she got close to the sales office, she could hear the telephone ringing. It was Tom Hutchinson.