The Crunch Campaign (11 page)

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Tania Mentelle said she was too busy to attend the staffroom lunch Ms Whitby had arranged for her. She ran as fast as her heels would permit to the long black car waiting for her and immediately called her office in Sydney. ‘Kip,' she said, ‘what do you know about Mosquito Advertising, the outfit that has the Parfitt's account? You spent some time in Brisbane, didn't you?'

‘Mosquito Advertising? I've heard the name, but don't know anything about them,' Kip said, glancing at Toby. They were working on an invitation for Tania's fortieth birthday party and had never been so bored in their lives. Of course they knew of Mosquito Advertising and Katie Crisp – it was their backyard-made ad that had shown their own extravaganza to be the wasteful piece of garbage it was and ultimately got them fired.

‘Why do you want to know about Mosquito Advertising?' asked Kip mildly.

‘I'm worried they'll try and derail our campaign.'

‘So what do you want us to do?'

‘We can't afford to wait to raise the money for our ad. I want you to go ahead and make it.'

‘But, Ms Mentelle –' Kip was confused. ‘If you're against the ban, and Mosquito Advertising is against the ban, does it matter whose ideas run? Why not both of them?'

‘You don't get it, do you? Whether or not kids' eating habits change doesn't matter to me. I want this chance to slam Clara Whiting's government. Nothing gets attention like a political ad and attention wins business.'

She hung up and thought for a minute. The problem was that Clara Whiting actually did want to make changes – if she heard Katie Crisp's ideas she might go for them. There was a good chance Whiting would be thrown out at the next election, but that could be ages away. If the ad ban was going to be stopped, it had to be her agency that got the credit, not some outfit whose hobby was playing around with advertising. What if Mosquito Advertising ended up with more business and she ended up with less? The chances were remote, but it was possible. What she needed was the ear of someone whose ambition outweighed their concern for what was right.

Tania Mentelle called Tony Cutler's office. It was time she asked the health minister to lunch.

There was double maths that afternoon. Katie's vow to concentrate was overrun by her determination that it would be Mosquito Advertising's work that stopped the ad ban, not Tania Mentelle's campaign. Katie couldn't see how banning anything would ever work. She knew that whenever her mum told her to not to do something, she became more determined to do it. It was human nature and you were always better working with it than against it.

She raced home and arrived hot and panting. She shed her uniform, pulled on shorts and a t-shirt, grabbed a punnet of strawberries from the fridge and ran across the backyard. Climbing the ladder with the plastic box cutting into her lower lip, Katie realised that Nancy was already at work. It was clear she'd had been there all day – a cloud of smoke floated against the ceiling and dozens of scribbled-on bits of paper hung from the walls.

‘You know that the windows work, don't you?' Katie snarled, pushing them open, one by one. The smoke flowed out, as if it had been desperate to escape.

‘I hadn't thought about it,' said Nancy. She was sitting at the table in the middle of the room, surrounded by mugs, empty Parfizz bottles and chip packets. A saucer was overflowing with cigarette butts.

Katie pointed at it. ‘That has to go, too. It's disgusting and I'm not emptying it.'

‘Get over yourself,' said Nancy, her frown focussed on the pad in front of her.

Katie took a breath and stood a bit straighter. She had got taller over the winter. Her shorts were riding up slightly. ‘No, Nancy – no one in Mosquito Advertising smokes. It's not allowed and we all clean up our own mess. Please, get rid of the ashtray.'

Nancy looked at her hard, as if she had seen something that hadn't been there before. ‘All right. I need to go to the toilet anyway. I'll be back soon. I've pretty much cracked your campaign.'

The clock on Katie's Mac told her it was almost four. The others would be here any minute, so she checked her email. One from Andy Barker asking about his radio campaign – unfortunately she had to do that. Then there was one from Kip at Viper Advertising. Viper – Tania Mentelle's agency. She opened it.

Hi Katie,

We shouldn't be writing this, because it could get us fired – again. We're now working for Tania Mentelle at Viper Advertising in Sydney. We've been told to make a hideous ad to stop this ad ban. It's even worse than the one we made for Parfizz – and that's saying something. Toby and I just wanted to say, if you're doing something too, please do it fast and do a good job. And please hit DELETE – never tell Tania Mentelle you saw this.

Good luck,

Kip and Toby

PS If you're ever looking for more creative staff, please give us a call.

Katie read and reread the email. Then she trashed it.

The others arrived, shouting and laughing as they came along the side of the house. The drama of last night at the markets seemed like ten years ago. But there was another voice among the chat. A boy's voice. Katie walked onto the veranda of the tree office to see who it was.

‘Katie,' called Lorraine, ‘look who's here to help us!'

It was Zach.

Things were a bit crowded in the tree office. Katie, Lorraine, Dominic, Joel, Clementine and now Zach and Nancy. Thankfully the cigarette smell had mostly disappeared, only to be replaced by a fishy stink when Joel let out a burp.

‘Sorry. Had a tuna snack for lunch.'

‘Yuck, Joel!' said Lorraine. ‘We have guests!' She was blushing. Katie knew it was because Zach was there.

‘Then they need to know how we roll.' Joel burped again.

From the end of the table, Nancy let out a belch that could have been heard from the other side of the creek. Katie almost gagged. The meeting wasn't off to a great start. She needed to get it on track. There wasn't a lot of time.

‘Hey, Zach, thanks for coming,' she said. ‘Sorry if we caused some trouble last night.'

‘That's okay. It's normally pretty boring at the markets. I've been going there with my dad since I was five. Unloading fruit. Listening to my dad grumbling about how much work it is, for so little money. He's right – it's not fair. But he never thinks very much about how to sell more strawberries – or how to get people to feel better about spending more for nice ones. And it's all I think of. Well – not all I think of –' He looked at his purple boots. ‘But the selling's my main interest.'

‘How did you find us?' said Clementine.

‘It wasn't hard. I can read upside down and I looked at the police woman's notes when she questioned me last night. I saw your address, Katie, and was about to walk through your gate when Lorraine rocked up.' He smiled at Lorraine and coloured slightly.

Auntie Nancy cleared her throat and rolled her eyes. ‘Well that's all just delightful. Lovely. But there's work to do. I think this young man is superfluous: we don't need him.'

‘Nancy, hold on,' said Katie. ‘This is
our
meeting . . .
our
agency and frankly, you're lucky to be here. I can still ask you to leave. Zach here is our client and he probably knows things about selling fruit that we don't.'

There was a silence in the tree office as everyone waited to be blasted by Nancy's reaction. But instead she seemed to get smaller. Katie wondered if Nancy just couldn't bear to lose one more job and she felt sorry for her.

Dominic explained in his calm, concise, Dom-ish way their plan to stop the ad ban by making more ads for healthy food.

‘Like strawberries,' chimed in Lorraine, raising her eyebrows at Zach.

‘I think it's a great idea, I'm in.'

‘But we need to have something to show the prime minister,' said Katie, frowning. Then she told them about Tania Mentelle.

‘I know her,' said Nancy quietly, almost apologetically. ‘Our paths crossed years ago. She took over my accounts when Austin Ogilvy had me fired. Lots of clients love her – but not the smart ones. She tells them what they want to hear and makes them a lot of money for a short while. But she refuses to acknowledge that people change. That what they
want
actually changes. She's like a train on a track. For someone in the creative business, she has zero imagination. Plus, Tania Mentelle is a cow.'

‘Takes one to know one,' muttered Joel.

To everyone's surprise, Nancy laughed. ‘Yes, I would. And I know precisely the kind of ad she will make. It'll be big and ugly and utterly negative.'

‘Well, then,' said Katie, ‘we need to do the opposite and be absolutely positive. I reckon this is where we'll need you, Clementine.'

‘Me?' Clementine, as usual, had been quiet, as if she was in the audience, not on the stage.

‘Yes. I want you to work with Nancy, in a team.'

Clementine's horrified expression was matched by Nancy's.

‘C'mon now, Nancy.' Katie dragged a finger through the air. ‘You're the one who told me to zig when everyone else zags.'

CHAPTER TWELVE

Something about Tania Mentelle's talk had made Katie more focussed. And Zach showing up seemed like a sign that they were meant to present the Lettuce Levy. Nancy being a part of Mosquito Advertising could prove to have been a fantastic move, but Katie knew she had to take control. It was a silent arm-wrestle and, so far, she was winning.

‘Joel, I need you to work with Lorraine. ‘We've got to have heaps of ideas on how to make strawberries as appealing as MyFries. They are the enemy here, but we don't want to bag them – just don't talk health. That's an instant turn-off.'

‘What about Zach?' said Lorraine. ‘Who does he get to work with?'

‘Zach is our client. We can pick his brains about media and strategy. Who the ads should talk to. What messages they should convey. Where they should appear.'

‘Do you think we should consider television?' asked Dominic.

‘Sure!' Katie nodded. ‘TV, radio, cinema, billboards, online – the lot.'

‘I dunno,' said Zach, ‘that sounds really expensive. My dad can hardly afford to put up a poster at the local fruit shop.'

Katie laughed. ‘Yes, but remember – your dad and his farming mates won't be paying for this campaign. Mr Caesar-MyFries-Maxwell, the burger giants and the fried chicken and pizza companies will be paying, so let's go nuts.'

Everyone agreed, except Joel. ‘Well, that all sounds great, Kato, but what are
you
going to do? You seem to be the only one without a job.'

‘I'll jump into the creative work, too, don't worry. But first, I need to cook dinner for my mother. I bet that's something Tania Mentelle never has to do the night before presenting to the prime minister! Is everyone okay to put in late hours tonight?'

Zach looked uncomfortable. ‘I can't. I need to get the train back to Landsborough. The last one leaves at six-twenty.'

‘Bummer,' Katie thought for a moment. ‘How's this for a plan? I'll put something in the oven for Mum, then come back and see where we are. Then everyone goes home for dinner and homework and whatever. Zach, you'll need to bolt for that train. We'll let you know what's happening. Then, everyone else, when you can, all come back here. Even if it's really late. We'll need to pull an all-nighter if we want to blow the prime minister's socks off. Okay?'

‘I don't think she wears socks, Katie,' said Lorraine. ‘She mostly wears ballet flats or slingbacks, although in winter she wears boots. It's getting hot here, though. She won't be wearing boots in Brisbane.'

Everyone looked at Lorraine as if she was crazy, except Zach. He looked like he was in love.

‘I'll be back soon,' said Katie. ‘Work hard.'

She found two limp carrots in the bottom of the fridge, as well as half a butternut pumpkin (looking a bit dry) and two cobs of sweet corn that had started to shrivel. In the pantry there were three potatoes – one was green and sprouting, so she chucked it in the bin. There was garlic and an onion that looked fine. A carton of stock, a tin of coconut milk, a tin of chick peas and a packet of madras powder and she had enough for a vegetarian curry. Perfect.

Thirty minutes of chopping and stirring and she was done.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Her little oasis of peace was interrupted by the sounds of yelling and wood splintering. Katie ran down the back stairs and hurtled across the yard.

Chaos. Nancy had Joel pinned to the floor, with her knee on his chest. Clementine and Dom were at her shoulders, trying to pull her off. Zach stood at the back of the tree office, struggling to remove a chair that had been slammed through a wooden wall. Lorraine, sensibly, was turning the computer screens away from danger.

‘Hey!' yelled Katie. ‘What's happening? Nancy! Get off him. Who chucked that chair through the wall? She was furious. Every centimetre of the tree office was precious to her and with storm season on the way, holes in the walls could be disastrous.

Nancy stood up and wiped her hand across her face, smearing strands of red hair into her sweat. ‘This little twerp here said my idea was rubbish, that's what happened. He needs to respect his elders.'

‘So you jumped on him?' Katie couldn't believe it. Joel was getting taller by the week, but he was still slight, compared with Nancy.

‘He needs to learn some respect.'

‘Well, that's one way to teach him. Are you okay, Joel?'

To her amazement, Joel was grinning – as if he'd enjoyed the fight. ‘Yeah, I'm okay. I'm also honest. Nancy's idea sucks.'

Without thinking, Katie took a step forward so she was standing between them, even though Joel looked like he'd welcome another round.

‘Well, we'll all have a look at the ideas. But Joel, nothing sucks, not at this point anyway. And Nancy, this is Mosquito Advertising, not a big multinational. We're happy to have you, but no one cares that you're older than us, or more experienced. Your ideas aren't automatically better than anyone else's, just because they're yours.'

Katie looked around. Everyone in the office had their fists clenched – even Clementine, and she'd never seen that before. Time to take a break. ‘All go home, calm down and have something to eat, do your homework or whatever it takes to get your parents off your case so you can come back here at nineish to work until
late
.'

She rolled her eyes when Lorraine offered to walk Zach to the station. Clementine and Joel left together, Joel looking happier than he'd been in ages. Nancy huffed down the ladder, swearing as she went. Katie and Dom were left alone in the tree office. They looked at each other, then around at the wrecked room. They burst out laughing.

‘Running an advertising agency is so glamorous, isn't it?' said Katie. Her bare feet were dirty, her hands smelt like garlic and she'd just broken up a fight between her crazy auntie and a fourteen-year-old boy.

‘It sure is,' said Dom. ‘And you're great.'

Then, before Katie knew what was happening, he kissed her and ran out the door. ‘See you in a couple of hours!' he called as he crossed the yard.

‘Okay,' she whispered.

Nancy didn't appear for dinner and Katie didn't ask her if she wanted any. The mood between her and her mum was strained enough.

‘The curry is nice, thank you,' said her mother, smiling stiffly.

‘I didn't have any time for shopping, so I used what we had.'

Her mother ate silently for a minute, then sipped her water.

‘Mum, I'm really sorry about Georgie and last night.'

‘I know. It's okay. Everyone's safe.'

‘Then why are you so quiet?'

‘Well, I've got some more news for you. And you might not like it, but there's no point in hiding things, is there?'

‘What?' Katie tried to lighten the mood. ‘You want me to be a bridesmaid? Lorraine warned me you would. She's already designing the dress. I'm coming to terms with it.'

‘No, no, it's not that. But Liam and I have been talking – we want to simplify our lives once we get married.'

‘So, what does that mean exactly? That they'll all move in here?'

Her mother shook her head.

‘Then what?'

‘We think the best thing to do would be to sell this house and start afresh somewhere else. Liam wants to leave the house he shared with his ex-wife and I think leaving here might me a good thing for us, too.'

Katie felt panic rising in her chest. What could this be leading to? Where would they live? Visions of bloated shiny houses in new estates reared up before her eyes. ‘If you're worried that I won't be able to share, don't be. I'll get used to it – as long as the kids keep out of the tree office, I'll be okay.'

‘Trees. Yes. Actually, we've decided to move into Pat and Moira's place. It's big enough, Liam's kids love it and it's close to your school.'

The blood drained from Katie's face, but she couldn't tell where it went. Her whole body felt limp.

‘The ad ban was the catalyst we needed to decide to sell Parfitt's. We've spoken to Carole Beauchamp and GBI will buy the whole company. She understands that business will be even more difficult from now on. Also, Liam and I want a fresh start together. We're going to get jobs – normal, ordinary office jobs where someone else worries about payrolls and taxes and government policy changes. It's all too hard and we want our life together to be about us and the kids – not the company.'

Katie felt the blood rush back into her face. ‘Which kids are you more concerned about? Liam's or yours?'

‘Both.'

‘What about Nancy?' She was desperate now. Normally she couldn't have cared less where Nancy lived.

‘Nancy will go back to her own place at Lota, as soon as her tenants move out. She'll be fine – she always is.'

‘But Mum,' Katie stood up, pushing her chair with the back of her knees. ‘All that work to save Parfizz so you could keep your job! So Parfitt's wouldn't be sold! And now you're going to sell it anyway. And move us all into the Parfitts' house? What about Mrs Parfitt? Are you just going to kick her out into the street?'

‘Of course not. Us moving in there was her suggestion. She's going to move to Straddie, she wants to live by the beach. The place she shared with Pat is a lovely big house and the kids know it. We could put on another storey if we feel we need more space as the kids grow. Liam says you can have the study underneath for Mosquito Advertising.'

‘It's a terrible, terrible idea, Mum.'

Her mother sighed and looked at her clasped hands. ‘I'm sorry you feel that way, but running a soft drink company has got too hard and we just don't want the pressure. The ad ban was really the last straw and I'm sorry, because I know you've worked so hard to get Parfizz selling again, but this new law means that no ad can save us.'

‘But, Mum, the ad ban isn't law yet. It might not happen.'

‘No, but we don't want to be bullied by someone like Caesar Maxwell. The soft drink business isn't what it was when Pat started Parfitt's, and Liam and I are ready to get out. He was never that into it – he only came on board when Pat died. Sure, it's sad in a way, but it's exciting too. Other doors will open. It's a new beginning for all of us.'

Katie couldn't believe her mother was using such pathetic clichés. She sounded like Mrs Sinnamon.

‘Look, Mum, if you let me present my idea to the prime minister tomorrow, you never know what might happen. She might chuck the ad ban out the window.'

‘I told you, you won't be meeting the prime minister. Politics isn't something a girl your age should be involved in. It's ugly.'

‘Not as ugly as Caesar Maxwell's plan.' Katie could hear the exhaustion in her mum's voice. It was an opportunity. She reached out and held her hands. ‘Mum, if you back me on my Lettuce Levy plan, and the prime minister buys it, we'll be doing such a good thing, can't you see that? Not just because it'll mean Parfitt's can keep going, but because those companies that make good food, healthy food will be able to advertise too. I know you don't want Parfitt's to contribute to Caesar Maxwell's campaign, but who could mind helping growers sell more strawberries?'

Her mother looked up. ‘It does make some sense, what you're saying. But where will it end, Katie? If Clara Whiting likes what you're proposing, what next?'

‘I don't know. Probably nothing. She's probably only meeting us to be polite –
listen to the kids, that's good PR.
But it's worth a shot, isn't it?'

‘Oh, I don't know, Katie. I just don't know anymore. Sometimes I wish I was old, like Moira. When she and Pat were my age she raised her kids and Pat sold soft drinks. They didn't worry about childhood obesity and government policy, did they? They just made fizzy drinks.'

Katie suddenly felt sorry for her mum. It wasn't fair, the pressure she was under, when it wasn't her fault. People like Caesar Maxwell saw fighting as part of their business – he thrived on it, just like Tania Mentelle. ‘Listen, Mum, let me work on this tonight. Nancy's helping, too. We'll put something together for the prime minister, then present it. If we get the impression she's going to go for it, maybe you and Liam will feel like hanging onto Parfitt's? If she drops the ad ban and we're allowed to advertise, we know Product Xmas will sell and life will go on as usual. I don't mind where we live.' This wasn't true, but she had to pick her battles. ‘The most important thing is to stop the ad ban and keep Parfitt's going. It would kill Mr Parfitt to know his life's work had been ended by government policy.'

Her mum grinned. ‘Pat's already dead.'

Katie laughed. They both had the same sense of humour. ‘You know what I mean.'

‘And if Clara Whiting doesn't like your idea?'

‘Well, then, I let it go. Liam sells the business, you sell the house and we all start again.' Katie almost choked on her words, but she had to say them.

‘Do you mind cleaning up?' Katie headed for the back door and the tree office. ‘I've got work to do.'