My Magazine Ch. 15

At 11:00 two women arrived from the Publishers' Federation, having made an appointment the previous week through Rhonda. They were only the third lot of visitors from the public to have visited the temporary offices of My Magazine and clearly were not impressed.

"It's incredible that a magazine of the quality of your magazine could be produced in surroundings like ... like ..."

"Like the backyard of a rundown warehouse district?" Jenni offered helpfully.

"Quite," said Lucy, the federation's membership and public affairs manager. "Although I'm not being rude, it's just there are comparisons to be made with other similar publications, you know."

"Yes I can understand that," replied Jenni. She decided not to explain the premises were temporary and she had been in the process of finding suitably permanent headquarters when she received an offer she could not refuse.

"You had quite lovely offices at the last place you worked, didn't you?" commented Mary, the chief executive of the federation. "I had the pleasure of visiting your predecessor there when I was first joined the federation."

"Thank you," said Jenni, as Rhonda brought in the requested teas for the visitors and coffee for Jenni. The women had not indicated the purpose of their visit but she guessed it was in connection with her failure to reply to two written invitations to join the federation and make a donation of £500 for a contribution toward the funding of the federation's conference later in the year.

As soon as Rhonda had left them Mary said: "We thought we would come to see you because you seem to have under-estimated the importance of being a member of the federation. I ..."

"Excuse me, Mary, but I don't habitually under-estimate important things that are to my advantage."

"Consideration of my application for membership of the federation was delayed until my first issue had been published and I can understand that. But being a new-start publisher with money pouring out and money as yet only trickling in, I was not of a mind to donate money to your conference to be held in Vienna."

"But Jenni," Lucy said. "It was recognised that you are a one-magazine company so you were being asked for a token amount. The requested were scaled up with our corporate members being asked for donations up to £15,000."

"I have explained my position ladies and is there anything else?"

There wasn't, and they left empty-handed and driving away quickly as if escaping a physically environment that they felt was inappropriate for any member of their prestigious organisation.

"Do you regret not being able to support them?" asked Rhonda, standing at Jenni's window and watching the women leave. "I thought they were a touch snooty."

"When I came into magazines as news editor on the now defunct Madam Magazine the federation had offices at the back of a building in a side street, with just the director and a clerical assistant. Now they occupy a penthouse office suite in the Magellan Tower with a staff of seven, most of whom will go to Vienna to the conference if sufficient funding comes in by way of donations."

"I'm not complaining about this patronage. Corporates own most of our top magazines these days and their executives like to see their support organisations operating in similar business class style. Perhaps we'll make a donation next month using Zephyr Media's cheque book and send Vivian as our representative which will make those other editors at Zephyr go crazy with jealousy."

At lunchtime as Jenni walked toward the seat on the waterfront and saw a woman approach Rhys and wondered if she were a prostitute. He shook his head and the woman walked off just as Jenni arrived.

"You prefer my company?" she quipped, watching the woman accosted two men sitting on the next seat.

"I suspect she's on drugs. She asked me for money as she wants to visit her sick mother in Liverpool."

Jenni frowned and shook her head. "It would make any mother sick to learn that her daughter was doing such a thing."

She sat, pleased Rhys made no attempt to touch her.

She was unsure of whether she wanted such attention from him, if that's what he intended. Rarely was she this undecided especially since there were only three options - yes, no or maybe - in slipping into a relationship. Perhaps his interest was professional? After all, they were both journalists.

"You're quiet," he said. "What are you thinking?"

"About that girl," she lied.

"Yes, I refer to them loosely by the old description of vagabonds. They seem to becoming more numerous. What amazes me is that some of them look just like the girls next door."

"Some of them probably are, they must come from somewhere," Jenni said wisely. "Your article was very good. In fact some of my crew were extremely complimentary and I was shocked that my PA sent that reject photo to you. I look to be trying to pose like a movie star - an aging one trying to recapture her youth beside the seaside."

"Dad liked it. He said 'That's the kind of lady for you son.' He also liked the story and said you seem to be quite a powerhouse."

Oh dear here it comes, thought Jennie. He wants to date me because his dad thinks I pass muster.

But she was premature.

"The place where I got the rolls only had one chicken rolls left. The other is roast beef and looks yummy. Which one would you prefer?"

"Chicken thanks."

"When I picked up the coffee I saw something in the cakes cabinet that I've not seen for years so got two of them. One's brown the other pink," he said, opening the paper bag. "Please choose. They are Lamingtons and my mum used to make them when I was a kid. I haven't eaten one for thirty years."

"Perhaps you should have purchased and sent one to her?"

"Nah we don't know where she is these days. She walked out on us when I was eleven, telling us that the neighbour Fred Fuller was more fun than dad was. Mr Fuller came back to his wife and two kids two months later but we never saw mum again."

"She used to write but the gaps between letters became longer and then stopped soon after she changed her location. Her friend Iris saw her when in Leeds two years ago and told us that mum had a fellow and she'd given birth to two girls."

"Oh how sad for you. It must have been rotten growing up without a mother?"

"Well there was always a mum around the house. Dad had a string of them over the years but he's not what you'd call a good woman's man - after a while he more or less forgets they are there ¬¬- if you know what I mean?"

"Inattentive, loses interest and spends longer and longer at work?"

"Ah very good; that's exactly what happens and still happens today. Did something like that happen to you?"

"No but one of my playmates in our street experienced what you went through. You might say I was lucky because I had both parents. Sure they were in the house and we did things together, but emotionally we lived on different planets. They didn't love each other but happily tolerated each other and neither of them would accept affection from me. In fact at times both vented anger when I sought affection from them."

"God that's inhuman."

"Indeed and that's a very appropriate choice of word."

"If you don't mind me saying this, but you indicated on TV that was the main reason why you had not sought marriage. Will that attitude ever soften?"

"I'm no longer bitter about my childhood. I would never use a word like inhuman about my parents. I avoided any direct criticism of them in their lack of affection. I guess no longer would it be a reason for not marrying, but now marriage is so irrelevant to me in the life I have chosen to live."

"But you have loved?"

"Yes - twice. The first was a father-substitute, a chief sub editor when I started out in journalism. The other was proper love through passion to a close workmate until the possibility of marriage began to emerge and I slowly withdrew until moving completely away from him. That man married a much younger woman and they are about to have a baby. Ironically they have asked me to be the baby's godmother even though she knows her husband and I were once lovers."

"Whew! Things get a little complicated in real live don't they?"

"They certainly do. Now choose your lamington."

Jenni took one and he said, "Why did you choose the pink one?"

"Pink is for girls."

He said, "I thought perhaps you might say that."

"You should be a writer."

"Ha-ha."

Jenni looked at Rhys and told him to brush the sticky coconut off his tie.

"Why did you send me flowers and ask me to share lunch with you again?"

"Wow you can be very direct. I don't find that question easy to answer."

"You like me," said Jenni encouragingly.

"Yes and that's what I should have said."

"And you see me as a mother figure?"

"Cripes no," said Rhys, colouring significantly.

"Well, let's leave it at that. Come on, walk me part way back to my office."

"Why don't I accompany you all the way? I'd like to see your set-up."

"That could be a little dangerous."

"Pardon me?"

"I mean dangerous for the blood pressure level of my PA. Since you sent me flowers and invited me to lunch again, she'd had all these romantic ideas rushing blood to her head. She's eager to inspect you - you know, to put you through a warrant of fitness check. If you were to appear without warning, she may possibly swoon."

"Do girls still do that?"

"What?"

"Swoon?"

"Oh I don't really know. I think if they are overly romantic they may well do that."

"Phone her, and say I'm coming in."

"No, let's test my swooning theory."

Rhonda's desk was placed in her cubicle so that she could see to the doorway at the top of the stairs. She looked up, saw Jenni and was about to wave a friendly greeting when she saw she had someone with her. He was a full head taller than Jenni, solidly built and handsome.

It was him!

Blood rushed from Rhonda's face. She was glad to be sitting down. What was wrong with her?

Fortunately, Jenni walked slowly towards her, pointing out aspects of the office layout to this Rhys man who Rhonda knew would be interested because he was a journalist.

"And this is my fantastic PA Rhonda Flagstaff - Rhonda, this is Rhys Cain."

The man gave her a smile and put out his hand in greeting.

Rhonda stood up and this time blood rushed to her face. She shook Rhys's hand.

"My, this whole office seems to be filled with attractive women," he said, lingering with the handshake just a tad, making Rhonda's blush deepen.

"Hello," she squeaked, causing Jenni to look at her and thus see the scarlet face.

Well, with all that blood in her face she was unlikely to swoon, thought Jenni. The upfront, confident and normally outspoken PA appeared to have become man shy. Had she been having romantic notions?

"And next-door is my hide-out," Jenni said, walking around the screen into her office.

"Nice meeting you Rhonda."

"Likewise," she said, this time without squeaking.

"God he's rather handsome," Rhonda gushed when Jenni returned to her office after her visitor left. "What did you guys talk about? Had he asked you to lunch again? Are you guys about to start dating?"

"No and no to the last two questions.

"We discussed vagabonds, decided on the merits of chicken and beef and lamingtons, the naughty Fred Fuller and daddy's playthings, was I still marriage-shy and I mentioned I was going to have a baby."

"I don't understand much of what you've just said. Who's Fred Fuller? What sort of bonds are vagabonds? Whose daddy is playing and it's Gracie who's having the baby, not you."

"Yes you're quite right. I should email him and tell him I'm not pregnant after all, but Gracie is."

"Jenni what's wrong with you? And anyhow, what's a lamington?"

"Oh questions, questions Rhonda. Why don't you relax or swoon?"

"Swoon?"

"Never mind Rhonda. Are you ready for this? Fred Fuller lived next door to Rhys when Rhys was a boy. Vagabonds are displaced street or countryside wanderers. Lamington's are colourful small oblong cake covered with sticky coconut that adheres to your tie. Daddy's playthings have pointy boobs and soft bottoms and he takes them to bed with him, at his age hopefully one at the time. And I should stop this rabbiting on and get back to work as we have a magazine to produce but no I have an appointment at Zephyr for which I shall be late if I don't go there right now."

"Whew! Does that answer everything?

"Who's daddy?"

"He's Cain senior. Goodbye Rhonda."

She arrived with redone lip coating and hair re-combed and was greeted dourly by, "Come in, Jenni; close the door."

Thank you for your lovely, friendly greeting David and yes she was rather well with a possible suitor in the wings, Jenni burbled to herself as she closed the door and noticed Ron Wiggins was already seated.

He jumped up and walked to her.

"Greetings, co-managing director designate," he said warmly, kissing her.

David said grumpily, "When you two have finished I'll start this meeting."

"Right let's get straight into it. Lydia has suddenly got into her head that she'd like to live for a year in France. She's re-read a book about someone that did that. I've been thinking about it and the idea rather appeals, so I must decide how to extricate myself from my position here."

David said he'd thought of converting the business into an unlisted company but his father was not agreeable to that, wishing to retain his holding as it was, and not having the company incur restructuring costs. Currently there were four shareholders - his father with forty percent, David had thirty percent and two farming families each held a fifteen percent share. Those families were happy with the status quo.

"So that means I need to find a party to buy me out," David scowled. "There's no great hurry but I need to get things started. Out of politeness shall we say I have chosen to advise you two what's happening and to enquire where you were interested in joining a group to take me out if I can't find a single purchaser?"

"Jenni?"

"I'm interested. Have you had your shareholding value updated?"

"God another woman speeded up to think beyond making beds and shopping. Yes and the figure is £2.74 million."

"Ron?"

"Sorry I would be interested but we have other plans."

"Well I'll let you know Jenni if I have to fall back on a group bid."

"Thanks David but I would prefer to go it alone if I do proceed."

"What!"

"The funding would not be a problem David. I just need to be certain that I'm doing a wise thing - that the future of the business is assured and that the company has been valued realistically."

"Well this is something quite unexpected."

Jenni turned to Ron who looked dumfounded.

"Ron should I proceed I'd insist on becoming executive chairman. Would you continue working here happily if that occurred?"

"Of course, why wouldn't I?"

"Thanks Ron. I need that assurance."

"Well, well," David said smiling. "What now?"

"I'll be in touch," Jenni said. "I'll instruct my solicitor to draw up a formal offer subject to receipt of a satisfactory due diligence report. Secondly, my offer is subject to the board agreeing to appoint me executive chairman immediately if my offer succeeds. Thirdly, that the major shareholder's investment in his name or the name of either a nominee or trust is locked in for a minimum of two years from the date of signing unless released from that commitment with my formal approval."

"That sounds okay to me," David said, "but why the locking condition?"

"Your father is out of the country a great deal, and taking minimal interest in the day to day running of the company. I am happy about that, and have no wish for it to change, but in entering the company as a shareholder I would like to ensure shareholding stability for at least two years to retain the confidence of bankers, suppliers, staff and, of course, to make things easier on myself."

"Well I don't envisage any problem with that. Thanks Jenni. I hope this comes off. Of course, I will sound out some other people and you will understand the reason for that - I'm after the best offer. I guess that completes this meeting unless either of you have anything else to say."

Ron had one item.

"Editors of our other magazines are concerned about their seniority, personal status and place of their publication on the ladder within the company structure in respect to our recent purchases, particularly My Magazine. We need to discuss this."

"It can wait until I move in in my secondary role as director of magazine production," Jenni said. "I'll review the whole structure of the magazine division. My report, once approved by the executive, can then be distributed to all editors."

"But Sam Isaacs, editor of Touring Britain is worried that his magazine will no longer be considered top mag within the company when Jenni comes in with her magazine."

"Jenni?"

"He'll just have to wait like everyone else to see what happens David and the longer he waits the less stroppy he'll be to deal with. Anyway, the top editor in pecking order will be decided by individual magazine sales performance and profitability, not by you or me. Perhaps you could feed Sam that crumb Ron."

"Quite," David said. "Is there anything else?"

Jennie wasn't sure that Ron had accepted that she was intending to immediately review the magazine division and then restructure it based on her findings. She should spell it out to him.

"Are you happy with that review proposal, Ron?"

"Yes I think so. It sounds as if you are intending to do a bit of reorganising. May I be involved?"

"Of course," Jenni said. "You knowledge and expertise would be invaluable."

She said, "I have one item David. I want you to make a pre-emptive bid to buy Business People."

David took a slow hard look at Jenni.

"You want me to buy that failing bundle of crap, whatever for?"

"I rather fancy the editor actually, but it's his father's company," Jenni smiled. "It's true it's going downhill but I have a plan to turn it around and change its name. It would be a conditional purchase - that the principal sells out entirely to us and retires immediately without any gratuity, but the transaction would require his son to contract to come here as editor of the rejigged newspaper for a minimum of one year."

"Jenni - am I clear about this? You have gone sweet on the editor and you want me to relocate him here complete with his father's business where by then you will be working with us?"

Ron was watching them talk, opening and closing his mouth like a guppy.

"I'm not asking you to buy me a playmate David. My intention is to rename and relaunch the publication as Business Women and so what if the editor is a man? We'll give him a female junior writer to do the fluffy stuff. The editor interviewed me very professionally and the report impressed everyone in our office - but you would expect them to say that. So here you two - read it and tell me what you think."

"Nice photo, but a bit too posed don't you think?"

"I share those sentiments David," she sighed

He read the first couple of paragraphs and then skimmed through the remainder.

"Yeah a nice read. May I keep this copy?"

"It's yours. What do you think Ron?"

"It's really excellent. This guy can write. I'm only three-quarters through it but he has captured the real you perfectly and makes you sound like a top operator."

Jenni cooed, "But I am a top operator Ron, one of the best."

He reddened.

"Golly I didn't phrase my words well, did I? I meant he has identified you as a top operator."

"Thanks Ron."

By the time their little exchange had ended, David was drumming his fingers on the desktop.

"Right Jenni and that convinces me the deal is not aimed at getting this guy here simply to play footsie with you. So how do we get to make money out of this failing rag - wave a wand and sprinkle happy powder about the place?"