The Importance of Being Emma (4 page)

On Batty’s plan, I was at right angles to Mark: ‘ECW – Emma Woodhouse, Marketing Director’. Next to me was ‘PTW – Penny Worthington, HR Director’, then ‘JM – Jon Marshall, Operations Director’ and ‘TSW – Terry White, Sales Director’. Opposite was Batty herself, ‘MEB – Mary Bates, Company Secretary’, then Harriet and finally ‘PE – Philip Elton, Finance Director’.

Finance, yawn, was my least favourite MBA subject and Philip himself was new to the company. I’d only met him once before, briefly, whereas I’d known the others for years. One of my priorities was to make them forget I was Henry’s little girl and accept me as an equal.

Fortified by a cup of nettle leaf tea, Dad opened the meeting and welcomed the new faces. We went through apologies (none), minutes of the last meeting (approved) and then to the substance of the meeting, the directors’ reports.

Everything was fine until my turn came. I’d persuaded Dad to give me a slot on the agenda, as I wanted to share my marketing plans with the Board and get some early buy-in. I’d prepared a presentation on my PC, then found there was no projector, so everyone had a paper copy of my slides instead.

I started with a brief review of our markets and competitive position. I listed the emerging trends in consumer demographics and buying behaviours and other factors, such as some pending EU food legislation which would adversely affect one of our longest-running lines.

‘
Any questions at this stage?’ I asked.

Everyone was silent. Dad had his head in his hands, as if the picture I’d painted was all too much for him. Then Mark, who’d been scribbling notes throughout my presentation, leaned forward. I tensed; somehow I knew a lecture was on its way.

‘
Your analysis is too limited,’ he said. ‘You need to look at competition in a broader sense. For example, what are the trends in eating out as opposed to staying in and cooking with Highbury Foods products? And your focus is all UK, you should be selling world-wide. Expat communities would be an ideal target market for your traditional English product lines.’

‘
Such as Gentleman’s Relish,’ Terry said, with a wicked grin. ‘Now where did I see that mentioned in the press recently?’

I closed my eyes for a moment and debated which of the two to castrate first, metaphorically speaking. I decided to ignore Terry and deal with Mark.

‘
I assumed the trends in eating out would reflect disposable income and therefore be linked to inflation and the other general economic outlook forecasts.’ I selected a page and held it up. ‘Those figures were on slide five, as you can see.’

Mark frowned. ‘That’s OK at this level. But when you get down to the detailed planning, you need to look at something like the Mintel reports. Remember when I did my MBA at Ashridge? As an Alumni member, I can access all sorts of business information at no cost. Just let me know when you’re ready and I’ll take you there for the day.’

‘
How kind,’ I said, feeling about ten years old. ‘Shall we move on?’

I squared my shoulders and prepared for battle. I was about to step on people’s toes big time, including Dad’s. ‘Corporate image. What’s our strapline?’

‘
Purveyor of traditional foods for the discerning palate,’ came the chorus from everyone except Mark and Harriet.

‘
Rather a mouthful, isn’t it? And can anyone under sixty relate to it?’

Dad blanched. ‘You’re not going to change it, are you?’

‘
Not yet. But I would like to commission some research into corporate image, among other things, for our main product range.’ I paused. ‘Betty’s Best.’

There was a sharp intake of breath around the table.

‘
Betty’s Best?’ Batty whispered, as though uttering something sacred.

‘
Named after my grandmother,’ Dad said to Harriet, who was looking baffled. ‘Our very first product, fifty-two years ago, was Betty’s Best Seville Marmalade. Since then, the range has expanded to almost sixty products and is still going strong.’

I lifted my chin. ‘But, as we heard earlier, not as strong as it should be. Philip, remind us of the sales and profit figures for Betty’s Best division.’

‘
Certainly, Emma.’ Philip gave me a knowing look and shuffled his papers. ‘Sales two percent down in the last quarter, mainly in the South-East, and operating profit down five percent, due to some aggressive discounting by key distributors.’

Dad sighed. ‘Yes, Mark picked up on that and Terry agreed to negotiate more favourable terms.’

‘
But it’s getting more and more difficult to hold the price, Henry,’ Terry said in a whingeing tone. ‘Betty’s Best seems to have lost some of its appeal, or maybe its loyal customers are dying off.’

I couldn’t help a little smile of triumph. ‘Exactly. Now I’m not saying we get rid of this range, far from it. It’s still our main cash cow, in spite of the heavy discounting. What I want is a new range brought in to appeal to a customer segment that we’re currently neglecting. If you turn to page twelve in the presentation … ’

I’d mocked up a picture showing a very attractive, smartly dressed, young-to-middle-aged blonde at a well-equipped kitchen table, a far cry from homely old Betty and her rolling pin. And underneath I’d used Word Art for the name of the new product range. Except – oh, shit.

Philip’s face lit up. ‘Victoria’s Secret? Isn’t that – ’

I felt myself go red. ‘A US lingerie company? Yes. This is meant to say Victoria’s Secret Recipes, but the last word has gone missing somehow.’

To my left, Mark said quietly, ‘It’s a basic – read through your material before you present it.’

I took a deep breath. Keep calm, retain presence. ‘The name’s not important, it was just to convey the sort of positioning I’m after. The smart woman of today, single or married, it doesn’t matter, juggling a job and/or family with frequent entertaining. She needs a helping hand in the kitchen but wants to give the impression she’s made everything herself. I want to re-market Betty’s Best to give her products that need the minimum of preparation, with recipes for sophisticated ways of using them. Her guests will think she’s done it all herself. That’s Victoria’s Secret. Or something,’ I added, making a mental note to find an alternative to Victoria as soon as possible.

Philip beamed at me. ‘Marvellous, Emma.’

‘
I can certainly identify with Victoria’s situation,’ Penny said. ‘I think it’s a great idea.’

Terry chuckled. ‘Maybe that US company would be interested in a joint marketing campaign. Victoria, in her kitchen, with our products and dressed in their lingerie. Could appeal to another untapped market, men aged anywhere between twenty and seventy.’

Dad looked horrified. ‘Men buying our products, whatever next?’

I glared at Terry. ‘Actually, the Victoria I have in mind is above cheap gimmicks. She’s cool and efficient and the envy of her friends in everything she does.’ I looked around the table. ‘I’m sure you can all think of a real-life Victoria.’

There was silence.

Then Harriet spoke for the first time. ‘Victoria Beckham?’

Jon burst out laughing. ‘No way. Does she even know she’s got a kitchen?’

I ignored him and smiled at Harriet, who was pink with embarrassment. ‘You’ve got the right idea, but I’d prefer someone who’s not a celebrity. Someone with beauty, class and brains that women in the real world can aspire to be.’

Philip said, ‘Well, gentlemen, I’m sure we need look no further than this room – ’

Mark interrupted him impatiently. ‘Basically, you’re looking to revamp Betty’s Best products for a younger customer segment?’

‘
Correct,’ I said. I couldn’t fault his concise summary.

‘
Have you done any research to justify this?’

‘
Of course. Only desk research so far, but I’d like to do some primary research with focus groups. That’ll mean spending some money, concept boards with photos and so on. If the Board approves, I’ll put together a proposal and some costings for our next meeting.’

‘
Seems a sensible approach,’ Dad said. ‘Who’s in favour?’

Philip and Penny raised their hands instantly, followed by Batty and Terry. Jon hesitated, then nodded.

Dad looked down the table. ‘What about you, Mark?’

‘
I have some reservations, Henry, but nothing major. And I’m sure that, between us, you and I can keep Emma on the right track.’

I stared at the papers in front of me. He made me sound like a wayward teenager.

‘
That’s settled, then.’ Dad sounded relieved. ‘Harriet, add Emma’s proposal to the agenda for our next meeting. We’ve got no other business to discuss, so let’s finish there. Jon, I’d like a word with you before you disappear off to the factory. And would anyone like to try some nettle leaf tea? It’s highly recommended for eliminating waste.’

Pity it couldn’t eliminate Mark Knightley. From this boardroom or, better still, from my life. How could Dad ask him to mentor me? It would be like turning the clock back to Mouse. He’d always been one for criticising me and bossing me around; I’d accepted it then, even looked up to him. And there’d always been Kate to restore the balance; in her eyes, I could do no wrong.

But now the last thing I needed was The Tormentor telling me how to do my job. I’d have to make my plans without consulting him, and take action before he noticed.

As I moved towards the door, Philip rushed to open it. I gave him a warm smile, remembering his encouragement and support during the meeting, unlike some I could mention.

He leaned forward and murmured, ‘I was really impressed by the way you defended Harriet against that idiot Marshall. Of course, I was about to say something myself, but you beat me to it. I suppose you can guess who my real-life inspiration is for your divine Victoria?’

Just then, I heard a shriek. It was Harriet, knocking over the milk jug as she reached for the last biscuit. Batty dashed out of the room to fetch a cloth, while Harriet blushed and giggled. She looked the opposite of cool efficiency, yet there was something about her …

‘
There she is,’ I said softly. ‘My divine Victoria, as you call her. Just give her some decent clothes and there’s my mock-up brought to life.’

Behind me, Philip let out a long sigh. ‘Beauty, class
and
brains.’

So that was it, he’d fallen for Harriet! Beauty she certainly had. Class I could give her. Brains? He was taking a flyer there, but I put it down to the delusions of a man already in love.

I turned to him with a mischievous grin. ‘You were going to tell me about your real-life Victoria.’

He went bright red. ‘I’m sure you can guess who she is, it must be obvious to someone as intelligent as you.’

‘
I have a pretty good idea,’ I said with a laugh. ‘Anyway, I’d better go and start my research proposal. It’s good to know you’re onside, I may need some help with the costings.’

His eyes gleamed. ‘I’ve got a standard cost-benefit analysis spreadsheet we could use, quite complicated, but I’m more than happy to go through it with you. How about this afternoon?’

I knew he just wanted an excuse to come and see Harriet. ‘OK, we can at least have an initial chat so that I know what sort of detail you’ll need. Ask Harriet to check my diary.’

I smiled as I left them together in the boardroom; it looked as though my next matchmaking project was underway.

Mark was in my office, looking out of the window. I couldn’t see his face, but his hands were behind his back and he was fidgeting with his watch, always a sign he was worried.

No wonder; Izzy had told me all about Tamara and his carefree expat lifestyle in India. Now he was stuck on his own for six months in Highbury, where the old biddy mafia tracked your every move and the highlight of the social calendar was Batty’s Charity Bridge Drive.

I touched his sleeve. ‘Mark.’

He spun round and gave me a long, serious look. ‘Mouse. I mean Emma. Sorry, I was miles away.’

‘
Listen, why don’t you come for dinner tomorrow night? We can catch up properly and you can terrify Dad with tales of Delhi belly. Shall we say seven o’clock? It’ll be just like old times.’

He hesitated and for a moment I thought he was going to refuse.

Then he said simply, ‘Sounds great.’

Chapter Two

~~MARK~~

‘
It’ll be just like old times.’

I should have added, ‘Except everything’s changed.’

I wasn’t against change as much as Henry, but I did like to keep things in their separate compartments. Of course, some things were the same as before. Henry. Mary. Highbury Foods, at least until Emma started whipping it into God knows what shape.

But
she’d
changed. She’d climbed out of her old compartment, the slightly grubby one labelled ‘Mouse’, filled with silly jokes and endless games of Monopoly, into a totally inappropriate one. The one labelled ‘Sex’, dark with desire and velvet-padded to stifle sounds of pleasure. The one I usually kept locked when not in use.

Now I wished I hadn’t agreed so readily to Henry’s request to mentor her. Never mind; I’d simply open up a new compartment, ‘Masochism’. I was sure I could handle it.