My Magazine Ch. 01

"You really are bright Rhonda."

""Which is the reason why you pay me."

"Quite – but listen. This proposal of mine has to be very hush-hush until the company makes it announcement about the demise of KSGS. I'm only talking to you at the moment and to two other staffers whom I trust and want to discuss roles."

"Any loose talk could cause staff to panic, do you understand?"

"My lips are sealed Jenni."

"Good. Please ask Tina to come in."

"Oh so we won't have grumpy Liz on the new team?"

"Tina please Rhonda."

A lithe, pale-face brunette with the annoying but fortunately infrequent tendency to softly hum pop tunes from the past as she worked, Tina had the ability to work speedily as well as accurately. She was an avid reader and for a 28-year-old her general knowledge was immense but, as a personality, she was rather restrained and that that had to count against her in the end.

As Rhonda went to fetch Tina Roach, Jenni's gaze followed her with a smile. With some training Rhonda might be about to produce a gossipy column to appeal to younger office workers. Rhonda already went to bars two nights a week with girlfriends and was a natural conservationist. Perhaps she could give Rhonda expenses plus a retainer to write nightlife with Rhonda column.

"Come in and sit, Tina – and no, nothing is wrong. I just wish to have a confidential chat."

Fifteen minutes later Tina stood up with a big smile on her face.

"Remember Tina, not a word otherwise the proverbial will hit the fan."

"Gotcha. I'll just tell them you want me to write a regular column."

"Are you interested in doing that?"

"Yes but not about gardening or kitchens."

"Right, I must talk to you about that in coming days."

Rhonda popped back in, her face flushed and shiny.

"I'm so excited. Who is the next to get a confidential chat?"

Vivian Stanton, a 33-year-old, appeared a couple of minutes later.

"Sorry, Rhonda found me in the ladies' having a comfort stop."

"No need to be sorry about that Viv. Even Royalty does it."

Viv was pleased about her prospective elevation to chief writer and almost fell out of her chair when the tag of deputy editor was added.

"Then as Tina has already been in here that means bossy Elizabeth is out in the cold and Tina becomes chief sub?"

Jenni nodded.

"And with me appointed as deputy editor anyone else being invited to come across is going to have their ego dented. God, imagine how pissed off Timothy will be when he hears about Tina and me? He'll be raving.

"Um why me over Tina as deputy editor?"

"Because you are more personable and handle people so well and you almost never have to ask questions about suppliers, schedules, personnel – you just seem to know. Although you are young, you are definitely executive material and I'm mindful that your degree is in business studies. Given that, plus your diploma in journalism and the fact that you are our best writer and a lively person, the decision was made for me."

"God I'm bursting to tell people but I know I cannot do that just yet. When will the announcement of the closure be made?"

"Hopefully around 4:00 today."

"Aren't you sad?"

"Not any longer, my time for thinking about that is over. I'm catching a new wave."

"Me too. God, with all this excitement I must visit the ladies' again."

Jenni checked the time. She was doing very well.

She took a call from Ron Wiggins who wanted to know if she was on schedule for the meeting. When confirming she was, he said: "Change of venue – we're meeting in David's office."

That pleased Jenni because David's direct involvement should ensure a quick decision. It was up to her to wrench a supporting 'Yes!' from him.

She phoned Tom Bennett, who was her New Zealand-based father's solicitor for his UK and European business translation. After explaining to Mr Bennett that she was starting up a new business Jenni asked if he would act for her.

"I'm sorry my dear. As much as I would like to take on your legal work, my advice is to seek someone a little younger – these days I'm winding down, acting in semi-retired mode."

Tom gave Jenni three recommendations. The first two she phoned were unable to speak to her that day but the personal assistant of the third one said that Sue could give her five minutes.

After Jenni began to explain the nature of her call, Sue Boyd said the appearance of another quality UK magazine would suit her because many of the others were "so trashy".

Jenni thought that Sue sounded to be the right sort of person for her, not afraid to show a touch of character.

Before the five minutes was up Sue phoned her personal assistant, asking her to give the next client a cup of coffee, and to apologise that Sue had been unavoidably delayed for fifteen minutes.

"It's a pity we have to rush this Jenni but your deadline of 2:00 and my full appointment book gives me no option.

"My advice is to simply present them with the outline you have given me – have copies in writing – but sign nothing, make no actual promises. Instead qualify phrases such as 'It is my intention to do ...' whatever."

"At the completion of your presentation, tell them that you'll have Employment Contracts ready to be signed by you with each person you offer employment. I will have them delivered to your office by 2:00 today.

"The contracts will contain a clause, at your request, in which you personally guarantee the payment of salaries due weekly for a total of eight weeks from the date of signing. At that expiry new contracts will be offered with the newly formed company, JJ Publishing Ltd or such naming as approved by the Companies Office.

"I'll also proceed with registering the name of your new magazine and apply for protection of the name itself and you'll need to arrange a number of other things such as leases when you find premises.

"Look, this has been rather unorthodox – I don't usually give advice without meeting the new client, but I actually have seen you several times at functions and know of you by reputation. But we must meet. Perhaps you could come here tonight at 5:30 for a drink?"

"Yes, a great idea – I have your address. And thanks, Sue."

Jenni next called Garth Oliver, her accountant and financial adviser. She needed to undergo a form-filling spree to meet other financial, taxation registration and other compliance requirements for starting up and operating a business.

Garth offered to find her suitable premises but Jenni said she'd prefer to do that herself.

At 1:00 Rhonda knocked and brought in a double chicken roll and iced tea.

"You haven't been pushing any work through to me," she said brightly.

"There's no need – it's virtually all over and it would be unethical of me to engage you in work on my new operation without the authority of this company."

She asked Rhonda to begin discretely pack up all of their personal things – boxes were available from the company's services department. Rhonda should purchase two 64GB USB flash drives and download a complete copy of everything on their two computers and a back-up copy on the second flash drive and then electronically shred their personal files on both computers.

Rhonda should request the company's services manager to send up someone to help Rhonda load everything into the boot of Jenni's car about 4:15. There would be no need for Rhonda to attend the meeting as she already knew its purpose. If Jenni's proposal was accepted Rhonda's resignation would be accepted by the company just before the meeting commenced.

"This is it, isn't it?" Rhonda said with a sad smile. "I've enjoyed my time here and will never forget how you picked me up out of the commercial gutter, so to speak, to give me this great opportunity."

"Thanks for everything, Rhonda," said Jenni, patting her assistant on the shoulder. "But think of it this way, your great lift-up may have yet more distance to go."

As Rhonda returned to her own office she wondered what was behind that last statement of Jenni's. Would she be promoted?

After lunch, Jenni began writing the proposal to present to CEO Ron Wiggins. She printed out several copies because Ron would have other people with him. She guessed that the decision on this day to terminate the magazine was because tomorrow was the start of the production run for the next issue.

Zephyr Media had set publication as the first day of the month to slot the garden secrets magazine into its multi-publications production stream. Editorial for the next edition was two-thirds completed.

Jenni walked into her private bathroom, thinking no matter how frugal she would be to hold tight control on start-up costs, she would allow herself the luxury of adding a bathroom to her personal office in the new location.

"Hi Johnny," she said with great familiarity, to Weissmuller posing in his Tarzan loincloth.

Applying lipstick in front of the mirror she looked critically at her reflected image.

Framed by dark hair she concluded her face was perhaps a little too fleshy, wrinkles were beginning to be alarmingly obvious and spreading and definitely too much make-up was used to attempt to conceal the defects. But the warm green eyes looking back at her could see that all was not lost.

The overall quality of her skin was excellent for a girl approaching thirty-seven.

What was that Jenni? Oh hell approaching forty-bloody-three.

Blasphemy rarely passed the lips of the easy-going journalist except when under stress; although she used foul language when thinking as she was free to think as she pleased.

She regarded her brain as her private island. It was trained to cope with outside intrusions during the so-called qualify thinking time and when she was writing creatively.

Her brain could change to interface appropriately with her moods, and berate or comfort her. But above all it could propel her into crazy but creative bursts of thought that at times appeared rather original.

Now, still in front of the mirror, she acknowledged her brain with a friendly pat to the top of her head and said "Good girl."

She continued her inspection.

Her nose was a tad too sharp but perhaps that is often overlooked because of her wide generous mouth of hideously-expensively maintained teeth that with ease produce the kind of smiles that Jenni believed people liked.

The chin – ah the chin was too pointy, just as the neck was rather too thick but now, in advancing age – God, how she hated hearing let alone using those two words together – that that little plumpness appeared to be a marvellous alternative to having a scrawny neck.

She looked at her watch.

"Oh no it's two-o-five. I'm late for one of the most important meetings of my life."

Fortunately the meeting place was very close, up one floor.

She hurried out of her office, giving her usual "Watch the fort" instruction to Rhonda, who was beaming and giving her the thumbs up, using both hands.

* * *

Jenni's father Stuart Giles had worked only in one permanent job, as a bookkeeper. Later he qualified in mid-life as an accountant and on being made a partner in the firm took charge of its agency business of stockbroking. Her mother Gloria had been managing a conference centre in a large hotel but ceased employment due to her second and quite unexpected pregnancy. This pregnancy had for some months left Gloria most unwell, but she was pleased to have it end with the arrival of a daughter rather than another son.

Years later it occurred to Jenni, by then with her name shortened, how amazing it was that two rather stolid and very provincial parents – and with her equally stolid brother almost ten years older than Jenni - could have produced such a lively, inquisitive and provocative child they named Jennifer Joyce Giles.

Early in her teens, Jenni concluded– looking at her family and struggling to find similarities – that either her mother must have had an affair or else when in the maternity hospital her baby must have been switched accidentally with another baby. Obviously the affair theory appealed to her because she wrote a school essay based on that thought. The marked work came back with the unbelievable low mark for her of 'D' with the teacher scrawling 'Disgusting' over the front page.

Disgusting? What an old bag that Miss Rogers is, thought Jenni on that upsetting day.

Just after the mid-morning break a messenger came to the room. Miss Rogers called Jenni to her desk, asking her to "bring that disgusting piece of rubbish with you."

The whole class looked on in absolute silence.

Jenni looked bewildered: what rubbish was Miss Rogers referring to?

"Your essay silly girl. Headmistress wishes to discuss it with you."

Jenni was delighted, as she idolised the school principal Miss Childs. Previously the youngster had thought that the women to model one's self on were those women in magazines who were slim with a radiant skin, wore lovely clothes and were so obviously in love with life.

Then she began to notice Miss Childs, who was a large woman – so large that when she laughed he body would wobble like jelly and she always smelt of lavender. She looked nothing at all like those magazine women. But she had the most delightful laugh and she was cheeky to her staff, and most of them adored her. She was also a bit naughty: it was rumoured that headmistress smoked in the privacy of her office!

A talented painter, Miss Childs also was a published poet, and occasionally at lunchtime she was sit on the steps in the school quad and girls who were interested would gather around – which usually was a very large number of them. Miss Child had an unbelievable voice – deep, rich and so expressive that her poems almost seemed to come alive.

Jenni decided that Miss Childs was the most amazing woman that she'd ever known.

At the suggestion of two senior girls, Miss Childs illustrated a number of her poems and they were displayed on the walls of the school library. Then something dreadful occurred.

Three angry mothers went to the librarian and demanded that one of Miss Childs' poems –that outrageous one about a woman lying in the arms of her lover and dreamily having sensual thoughts drift through her mind – be withdrawn from the library.

Miss Childs refused to allow the librarian to remove the poem simply because of the demands of three mothers, one of whom was a helper in the school library. The board of governors held a special meeting and gave Miss Childs twenty-four hours to have the offensive poem removed or she would be dismissed from her job.

Jenni had never forgotten her own reaction.

She suddenly saw beyond the jelly when she heard that Miss Childs had refused to comply with the order and was now packing her personal things ready to leave. Miss Childs was somebody very special – principles and freedoms really meant something to her.

Jenni hoped that a miracle would occur to save Miss Childs from that persecution.

Moves to defuse the situation began with a group of seventh formers pleading with Miss Childs to back down and stay. She was touched, and told them she would think about it.

She phoned the chairman of the board and announced she had no option but to quit unless her remedy was adopted.

Appalled that the school was on the verge of losing Miss Child, the chairman called an emergency meeting of his board for early that same evening. The board agreed to accept Miss Child's compromise – that the book in question be placed in a small locked glass wall cabinet and be available only to be read within the library by students aged sixteen and over who produced authorisation in writing from their guardian or at least one parent.

The board declined Miss Child's offer to pay for the cabinet and its installation. Instead it authorised her to have the work done and paid for out of the library maintenance account.

Jenni entered Miss Childs' office and smelt cigarette smoke.

"I've been a bad girl, sent here to be thrashed for my liberalism Miss Childs," Jenni said, politely and smiling.

Miss Childs would not disappoint her, she was certain of that.

"Explain liberalism in that context, Jenni."

The smile vanished as Jenni's brain moved into gear.

"I guess it has really deep meaning Miss Childs, but I was using it in the sense of the freedom to exercise my intellectual liberty."

"My word, do you read a great deal?"

"Yes and my father calls me a book worm."

"Good for you. Now please hand me this offending essay."

Miss Childs dropped her half-lens glasses on to her lower nose and began reading the 300-word article in which the students had been required to express 'A Deep-seated Belief'.

"Well, what did Miss Rogers expect to get back, setting a topic like that?" the school principal whispered.

She had barely got started when Jenni distinctly heard her say under her breath, "My God!"

Miss Childs put the essay down, having kept Jenni in suspense because she had read it so slowly as if savouring some of the words or passages of the very descriptive prose.

"How old are you Jenni – rising sixteen?"

Nodding, Jenni said, "Next Friday is my birthday."

She wondered about the relevance of that to her disciplinary appearance before the headmistress.

"This is very good Jenni," sighed the mid-aged educationist, remembering her first poem to be commended, written when she was ten.

"What do you think you will do when you leave school... go to university?"

Jenni nodded.

"Well, consider doing a BA, with emphasis on English literature. If you never advance beyond writing for personal pleasure it will provide a useful grounding and you can always slip into teaching or numerous other jobs."

"But I want to be a writer, miss."

"Really and when did you decide that?"

"Just a few moments ago, miss, when I saw you reading what I had written. Never before had I realised that I could influence people by what I had written."

"Influence? What do you mean by that Jenni?"

"If you don't mind me saying so, miss, I saw your eyes light up when you read part of my essay. I've ... I've never seen that happen before."

Miss Childs was in need of a cigarette. Her own creative juices were flowing ... she needed to make some notes in her writer's log.

"Oh Jenni, you have so much to learn about the interaction of emotions, how to reach and hold people with the power of the written word. Tell me, is this entirely straight from your mind or did you borrow some of these thoughts from books you have read?"

"It just flowed from me miss, although I may have been influenced by things remaining in my mind from books I have read, things I have seen and even some memorable things I have heard people say."

"Of course you will be somewhat influenced by the past and present. That is perfectly acceptable – it is not plagiarism, in other words, literary theft. You know, people talk loosely about original thought but how original is any thought, given that so many people exist in the world today, and immensely more people have been here, thinking, writing and verbalising before our lifetime? Several billion of them, I would think.

"Look, could you expand your thoughts around this work and give it back to me? There is an inter-school story competition coming us soon, and I would like to enter that contribution on your behalf."

Receiving a highly commended award – with the prize-winners ahead of her all being seventeen and eighteen year olds – ultimately led Jenni into newspaper journalism. When she completed a BA and the list of graduates were published in the newspaper, she received a card from Miss Childs, by then retired, inviting Jenni to visit her.

At that reunion, Miss Childs learned with pleasure that Jenni was committing herself to a career in journalism and had been seeking for an opening, so far without success.