Tag Archive for 'sales office'

Mandy drives a Nu Rio and dreams of management

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.”

Lunch breaks not allowed at motorhome sales office for Mandy

“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.