My Magazine Ch. 11

"Yes, there was a rather obscene variation to this one but I did not have the courage to buy it as the stallholder was a man."

"I watched the programme, Jenni. You are brilliant, really brilliant. I cried when you explained why you had not married. Mum phoned a few minutes after it finished and she still sounded weepie."

"You're going to be really famous Jenni."

"Oh don't be silly Rhonda. "People will wake up in the morning not even remembering my name."

"You're wrong on this one Jenni. But anyway, Cheers! I'll go and do the fillets. You look as if you are nearly out on your feet."

Then the phones began to ring. One of the early callers was Ron, who congratulated her for a wonderful interview.

"I guess you meant Snowy and me."

"Whatever gave you that idea?"

"Well I thought I was not good enough for you, but after we had drifted apart I came to the conclusion I would have been an ideal partner for you because I am not competitive, leaving you to fly as you wished."

"What a lovely thing to say Ron. You truly are one of my handful of best friends, and it's because you think nice things and say nice things that I think of you as a best friend."

"Good night - and David phoned me a few minutes ago and asked me to pass on his thanks."

"Thanks for what?"

"Thanks for adding considerably to the value of his recent purchase of My Magazine."

"What a beastly thing to think. That man is no friend of mine Ron."

Rhonda took calls on the house phone in the kitchen, and then realising they were becoming non-stop left the phone off the hook.

That was not a bad start for someone who ridicules the thought that she's famous, thought Rhonda. Jenni was becoming the Helena Rubinstein equivalent of British women magazine publishing, whether or not wants the mantle.

Jenni was in the bath when the doorbell went.

Rhonda was appalled by the late-hour intrusion but at the door was delighted to find standing there J. W. Bates and photographer from a major morning newspaper. J.W. and the newspaper she worked for ever used her name of Jennie or the more formal Jennifer. She wished to talk to Jenni.

"Can't it wait until tomorrow?" asked Rhonda, protectively.

"No I'm sorry. This is not for my column," said the highly esteemed columnist.

"The editor pulled me out of Liz's bar to do this. He suddenly thinks Jenni's big news, but I reckon it's his wife who said that."

"You better come in," invited Rhonda, wondering how J.W. could bear to be seen in the company of such an untidily dressed photographer.

J.W. hadn't got to her pre-eminent position by chance. She noted Rhonda's appraisal and guessed her conclusion.

"Don't be alarmed by the appearance of him Rhonda. He'd handpicked for his skill at portraits, not for his looks. Anyway, according to the gossip I'm not supposed to be interested in men."

"What's it with guys - if you spurn them they automatically think you're butch?"

"You're my kind of gal Rhonda," J.W. smiled.

"Mine too," leered the photographer called Alf, giving Rhonda a sneaky pat on the bottom as he went passed to closely follow J.W.

Rhoda looked at his saggy behind and lined up her right boot, but did not go through with the kick. She thought he might retaliate and take an awful photo of Jenni.

Rhonda left them in the lounge and went into the bathroom, where Jenni was soaking, and her glass empty.

"I'm sorry Jenni, but I've had to let two representatives from the media in. They want a story and photo."

"Oh god not tonight. Any way it will take me thirty minutes to get ready for a photograph."

"Excuse me Rodo and the journalist pushed past into the bathroom. "Sorry for the intrusion, Hot Pants, but your friendly morning newspaper needs you."

"Oh J.W. I should have guessed it would be you. Why the rush?"

"You're news Hot Pants."

"You two know each other?"

"Yeah Rodo - we worked together for a while when I first joined Zephyr."

"And Jenni was known as Hot Pants?"

"Yes for a while. We were invited to talk to a national women's conference about breaking the chains of the male dominated media - Jenni making a name for herself as a magazine writer and then editor and I being one of her writers who'd broken through - thanks to Jenni - and was having my own column published."

"Jenni appeared on stage wearing the new trendy fashion of the time - hot pants. The chairwoman Dame Margaret somebody was outraged, and called for an adjournment to allow Jenni to dress in something more suitable for 'our more conservative women of high social standing'."

"But a woman on the floor of the conference jumped to her feet and called for a show of hands to allow Jenni to speak to them just as she was dressed - 'like a plucky trend-setter for modern women'. Those in favour were at least two to one and Madam President as she was called, allowed Miss Hot Pants to proceed and, as usual, it was a provocative, thoughtful presentation that was loudly applauded at the conclusion."

"Wow," said Rhonda. "Our rather conservative Jenni a trend-setter. I can scarcely believe it."

"Look Rodo if we had time I could tell you things that would ..."

"J.W. - please go out and get a drink and I'll dress, but I'm afraid this interest in me is getting out of hand. I shall do my hair and wear my old dressing gown. If that's not acceptable then just use a stock pic of me."

Rhonda looked horrified but J.W. steered her out of the bathroom and told her not to worry.

"Appearances are not everything Rhonda. You'll learn."

Pouring the two visitors a Chablis, Rhonda suddenly remembered something. The photographer was examining the paintings on the wall, so she whispered: "J. W in the bathroom you called me Rodo."

"Yes I immediately began to suspect as soon as I saw you here and you spoke to me with that rare disarming talent that only a few people possess. Then when you introduced yourself as Rhonda, it was all over. Obviously you must be Rodo."

"That's incredible. How do you do it?"

"You will learn, Rhonda. I am almost forty and have had years of experience."

"Forty-three, actually," said Jenni, coming through the door.

"You cow."

"That's better than being a liar."

"Girls," said Rhonda. "Shall we begin?"

"Yes, why don't we," Jenni smiled. "And by the way J.W. if you unmask Rhonda in your column we'll run a very prominent photograph of you which is in my position taken at a staff party of you standing drunkenly and topless. And below that will be a piece by the editor revealing how you then went on to confess to having sex in prison with an inmate that you'd gone to interview for a wrongful imprisonment story. None of us believed your claim was true, but you swore it was."

"You cow."

"You liar."

"Girls!" said Rhonda, assuming that her penname was safe, at least for the time being. She was fascinated how the two journalists seemed to ignite each other. She now realised that Miss Jenni Goodie Good Shoes Giles has some fascinating things hidden behind her very nice facade.

Next morning Rhonda left Jenni asleep and on the way in to work stopped to pick up newspaper to read rather than wait to read one of the newspapers dumped in their office door-way.

She'd hoped an article and picture about Jenni would have been on the front page. But there was nothing there, and nothing on pages two and three. With growing frustration she turned to page four and looking across to page five there was a large coloured photo of Jenni, lolling in the lounge chair in her old blue dressing gown, devoid of make-up except lipstick and holding a half-glass of wine on the arm of the chair. She looked exhausted.

Jenni Giles, an hour after her appearance on Behind the Headlines on television last night and the end of another day of making British women sit up and take notice, read the straightforward caption.

Parked outside the shop when she'd purchased the newspaper, Rhonda clicked her tongue with approval at the headline, 'I'm Just a Journalist Doing Her Job' - Jenni Giles. By J.W.

Almost as rare to find as ham in a hamburger is a women magazine editor who operates on instinct rather than ego.

British editor of the hour is one such woman, Jenni Giles, founder of the new red hot publication My Magazine. But already Jenni has sold the magazine for an 'obscene amount of money' according to the new owners, Zephyr Media Ltd, her former employer. Jenni is returning to Zephyr as joint managing director and director of magazine publications of the company's seventeen publications.

Rhonda was aghast. She had sat in at the interview and not a word had been said about the sale. That transaction was supposed to remain confidential until the second issue had been on sale for at least three days. She noted in the next paragraph that the information had come from David Brooks. David claimed that Jenni was the hottest person in journalism at the moment and he just had to get her back.

There was little else that was new, except for Jenni's list of awards in journalism and other examples of notable stories she'd broken in the media - or 'scoops' as they were called by media people.

J.W. related the Hot Pants story, which upset Rhonda as it seemed to her to be a breach of confidence, and there was another amazing anecdote of how J.W. and Jenni came across a woman being manhandled in a park. They escorted the woman away to safety after Jenni had felled the man with a head-butt. 'The brute went out like a light,' recalled J.W. 'while Jenni ended up having to wear a neck brace for six weeks.'

The article concluded:

If opposition magazine editors think Jenni will disappear upstairs into gin and tonic functions, leaving My Magazine to get along without her, they will be mistaken. Although My Magazine will have a new editor, will remain under Jenni's wing; it's her baby.

Well, apart from Mr Brooks shooting his mouth off prematurely and J.W. putting in that piece about Hot Pants it was an excellent article, thought Rhoda. J.W. herself was an excellent journalist. Goodness, just think of a publishing company headed by those two women with a good administrative staff behind them!

She arrived at the office ahead of everyone, and Nico immediately appeared, wanting to know when Jenni would be in. He was pleased to learn that Rhonda had seen Jenni on TV the previous evening and had read about her in that morning's newspaper.

As the first of the staff arrived the courier entered with the morning's mail and included in the postings were eleven letters and two cards from the public congratulating Jenni on her achievements with her magazine and appearances on television.

That pleased Rhonda immensely and she whistled quietly to herself as she began making travel and accommodation arrangements for staff going south to conduct interviews with the wives of MPs.

Jenni phoned to say she had to go to her solicitor to sign some papers and then had been called to a meeting at Zephyr to discuss new administration arrangements. Senior staff were angry they had not been informed of Jenni's appointment officially before the media was told.

The courier making the afternoon mail delivery/collection came up the stairs with half a bag of mail instead of the usual dozen to two dozen letters normally carried in by hand.

"Someone here called Jenni is building up quite a fan club," he said.

Rhonda counted ninety-six congratulatory letters to Jenni and one telling her to stop 'hogging the limelight'." Rhonda was greatly tempted to toss the correspondence from that sour-puss into the bin, but knew Jenni's motto only too well - 'You've got to take the good with the bad' so put the nine-six congratulatory letters in one pile on Jenni's desk and the one from sour-puss beside it.

* * *

"Coffee?" inquired David Brooks, as Jenni entered the boardroom and took the chair on the side of the table where Ron Wiggins were already seated. Seated on one side of David was legal adviser Charles Trump who was also in charge of strategic planning and on the other side was Sharon Sparrow, human resources manager whose other responsibility was measuring departmental and individual staff performance.

"Yes thank you David," replied Jenni, not expecting him to get up and get her coffee, but he did.

"Welcome back on board, Jenni, Charles said sounding as if he disapproved.

"Yes, it's lovely to have you back," Sharon said primly.

"Well folk let's get into it," said David. "I have apologised for not advising senior staff of Jenn's appointment before they read it in the newspaper. This appeared to be more upsetting than news about our acquisition of My Magazine. So be it. As I've said, I apologise and now to business."

"Jenni completed her end of the paperwork this morning so it's all go. Even if there are still a few legalities to tie up she and I accept that her staff shifts back here on the last Friday of this month."

"Then from the start of the new week - conveniently the 1st of the month, everyone is on our payroll and from that date - My Magazine becomes our magazine, though of course not changing its name!

"Any expenditure and any income generated from that date is the responsibility of this company; payment on any invoicing from that date is revenue for this company. All expenditure incurred by her company on the second edition of My Magazine is payable by Jenni's company and all income generated from that issue is receivable by her company."

"As a token of goodwill Ron I have agreed that we take over all bad debts outstanding from the thirtieth of next month and so we expect her accountant to work hard to reap as much of that money as possible back into Jenni's coffers which I accept is only good business practice."

"Over to you Charles."

"Jenni two of our magazines are faring poorly and I suggest you rejig some staff, exchanging a writer from Winter Kitchen/Summer Kitchen for a writer from My Magazine and exchanging a subeditor/layout specialist from Book Reviews Monthly for a subeditor from My Magazine."

He stopped and Jenni started examining the nails on her right-hand. The warning was there but was ignored.

"I'm waiting for your response," said Charles, looking a little annoyed.

"Then be prepared to wait for an awfully long time Charles."

Charles' face darkened.

"David!"

"Jenni I'll point out Charles has completed a strategic planning course at great expense since you were last here," David soothed. "He is our expert on these matters and is authorised to effect changes to achieve our strategic goals."

"David and Charles," Jenni said in an equally soothing voice. "We are managing a publishing company here, not playing a game of Lego or trying to prove of theory of management strummed up by highly-paid accountancy consultants based on some model proven to work for corporate accountancy firms."

"Journalists do not work tick-tock according to some stopwatch in the hand of an efficiency expert of dubious pedigree and neither is magazines created and printed out like a company report. Compared with company reports, magazines are like prima donnas on steroids. They are produced with loving care by a group working very much like an orchestra or ballet corps. If one magazine is in danger of going down, do you flitch the lead violinist from the best performing orchestra or the leading ballerina from the best company?"

"Like hell you do! You go out, engage a replacement and fire the weak link."

"Jenni I resent the implication that my expertise in strategic planning is dubious."

"Charles I'm so sorry to have puffed at your wick. Please accept my apologies. But lay one finger on the operation of My Magazine and I'll go for your throat."

"Jenni," David said sternly. "That's enough."

"David - we better sort this out right now, as you should have done at the commencement. I am coming in as joint managing director. Obviously I made the mistake that it would have logically decided that Ron would be responsible for administration, printing and production. In turn, I would be responsible for advertising and would be director of magazine production. Then you David, would be in overall control but particularly responsible for corporate affairs, problem solving and separating Ron and me if we begin fighting like cat and dog."

David's face had turned brick red. But before he could speak, Sharon said loudly, "She's dead right you know."

Opening and then closing his mouth, David turned and looked at Sharon the quite one. His solid 'yes' lady had acted entirely out of character. This was unbelievable.

The bubbling censure was telegraphed and Jenni jumped in.

"Leave it David, your intellect will tell you that. Let's have your decision."

David coughed to ensure he didn't speak with a quaver in his voice.

"Well, what you have suggested is more or less on the lines that Ron and I have discussed. It's just that Charles has been busy on the strategic plan and I've been away at the polo tournament so we never got around to writing up job specifications for you and Ron in your joint roles. That's right, isn't it Ron?

"More or less. We actually had decided exactly what Jenni has just suggested. I agreed wholeheartedly with you when you said it was so logical. But I know you have been under a lot of pressure lately."

"Another thing David - I need Charles but only on the legal side of things," said Jenni. "Anything happening inside the editorial and advertising divisions is off limits for him in terms of efficiency assessment. Of course, we need to be included in strategic planning, but all the information about that needs to come via me."

"If anyone thinks I am protecting bunches of prima donnas, think again. The people in My Magazine are working their guts out for me and you can expect the same results within your other magazines given time, otherwise staff will be replaced or poor-performing magazines will be sold off or dumped."

"I have to say this David but these things are not negotiable. It's my way or else."

It was Charles turn to clear his throat. Being ravaged by a woman was not his idea of a nice day at the office.

"I must say David, and Jenni that we are not used to naked aggression at staff meetings. It is not conducive to good relationships and the camaraderie that needs to underpin senior management and ..."

"I made an effort to meet you halfway Charles," said Jenni, interrupting him. "I'll lunch with you, I'll try to play squash with you although I'm damn useless at it and I'll sit through your strategic planning meetings you'll be chairing like a good girl. If that's not enough, then I'm certainly not leaving, which suggests one other opinion."

"Good heavens!" exclaimed Charles, quite alarmed. "It was never my intention to offend you, or to oppose you."

"Thank you Charles. I am sure we both know where we stand. I shall enjoy working with you."

"David, are we finished here. I've got a magazine to produce. I can be back here at 6:00 to sign my job specification as it should be ready by then. We should resume this meeting then, if that is your wish."

"No that won't be necessary. You go if you must Jenni," said David.

"I hope this meeting has cleared the air and we resume into becoming a smooth-running unit. What I would like to suggest is that next Sunday we all meet with partners for a social gathering at dad's home in Jersey. Julie will contact you all and give you a time to board the two choppers. We need to go out in sixes. Of course some of you may prefer to travel independently. Chopper passengers need to start coming back at 3:00 as later flights will be fully booked."

As Jenni rose David went to the door and opened it for her, kissing her goodbye. The others simply called goodbye.