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.
