Chapter 3

Greg returned to work the following Monday. He had rung on Friday afternoon to say that he would. No-one else had gone down with flu during the week so Vehicles were back to full strength. Workshops only had one off sick.

Grace did not come in early that morning. She wanted to let Greg get his feet under the table again before she paid a visit. Terry briefed him on all that had gone on and did not leave out Grace’s contribution. Greg was impressed. He wandered across to Workshops to see Jeff. The latter had been impressed with her too. Apart from getting to know his fitters she had shown an interest in his tools and machines.

“Let me know if anything needs replacing with something more efficient or accurate,” she had said, “and I’ll see what I can wangle.”

Grace was just about to go Vehicles to welcome him back when Greg appeared at her office door.

“Welcome back, Greg,” she smiled. “Fully fit?”

“Yes thanks. It was really only the first forty-eight hours that were really bad but I was weak as a kitten on Wednesday and Thursday.”

“I bet. Well I don’t think we did anything disastrous without you.”

“No. From talking to Terry I wasn’t even missed and thank you for leaping into the breach on Monday.”

“Not at all! I enjoyed it and Claire was a great support.”

“She’s a good lass.”

“Terry knows his stuff too and I was delighted when he could and did relieve Happy from two consecutive long hauls when that idiot ran into the back of him.”

Greg chuckled. “Now he’s got something he can really moan about in addition to his truck being in workshops to be tidied up again.”

Grace laughed. “I hope you don’t mind but I’ve been wandering around getting to know the drivers.”

“Far from it. I’m delighted and from what little I’ve picked up so too are the lads, Corporal.”

Grace giggled. “I’d forgotten about the chevrons on the sleeves until they started teasing me and then I thought there’d be disappointment if I took them off. Thoroughly distinguished military career I had rising to the giddy heights of Lance-Corporal in three years.”

“Why did you join the army?”

“I thought I might see a bit of the world and at that stage I didn’t know what I wanted to do. I thought of teaching and nursing but when I got my tape and had the Landrover section to run I rather enjoyed the responsibility and the need to think things through so I went for business management and here I am.”

“I was in the army too, Royal Anglian Regiment, and ended up as an MT sergeant after eighteen years. I wasn’t going any further so I got out at the end of my twenty-two year engagement. There was a job advertised here so I grabbed it. Still an MT sergeant but better paid.”

“And I’m a jumped up young MTO!” countered Grace with a big grin.

“And we both know our place,” came the reply with an equally big grin.

“You’re going to miss Terry when he goes in the autumn.”

“I am indeed. I’ll have to start earning my pay again.”

“Greg, on a more serious note, what do we do about updating our trucks?”

“Sell them at just under four hundred thousand miles. That’s when the resale price really starts to drop away. At five hundred you’ve almost got to pay someone to take them away.”

“How old are they at four hundred thou?”

“Three to four years.”

“So that’s ten or so a year.”

“Yes.”

“Do we always buy from the same manufacturer?”

“We have for the last five years. Jeff prefers that. He can keep the same tooling. So do the lads. Apart from small changes they know the wagons.”

“I can understand that.”

“Right, well I’ll get out of your hair. Come and see us again soon.”

“I will indeed and thank you.”

Grace decided she needed to talk to Peter Curzon, the Finance Manager. They had done little more than introduce themselves when they first met but she had liked him. He was open and friendly with a ready smile, not the rather serious, donnish financier she had expected. She was beginning to see that she needed to find out more about the financing of her empire. She rang his secretary and was told to come straight over.

Sure enough she was greeted warmly and smilingly. He led her to two comfortable chairs set across a circular coffee table.

“So, Grace, got your feet firmly under the table now?”

“Fairly firmly but it’s all operational at the moment. I had a chat earlier this morning with Greg Honey about replacing vehicles and thought I ought to talk the financial implications over with you: how much I’d get involved in ordering replacement trucks, what restrictions there might be, whether you might wish to go to tender rather than us continuing to buy from the same manufacturer that we’re used to.”

“Greg probably told you about the four hundred thou yardstick. So that means seven or eight new vehicles a year. At the moment we have a manufacturer who makes good, robust trucks, gives us a reasonable discount because of our loyalty and also good technical back-up particularly in the first year. They supply us with specialist tools and diagnostic equipment for a comparative song. As things stand your input is minimal unless you have a criticism of their latest trucks or they change some spec which you don’t like. The other thing they do is take on workshop apprentices for a free month’s familiarisation course.”

“Sheesh! That’s pretty good.”

“It is and clearly shows that they want to keep us so I don’t see a hiatus for at least a year. Brexit may change things but I doubt it will be by much.”

“OK! That all sounds encouraging. What about major workshop items?”

“Shouldn’t be a problem. We’re making quite handy money at present. You will though have to make a persuasive case. Then, once again Brexit may change it but by and large our operations are limited to the UK so I don’t think it’ll have a profound effect unless of course the firms we provide for pull in their horns dramatically although I think that the home market will probably expand at Europe’s expense. Oh dear! A shortage of ethnic and delicious Camembert and Brie not to mention Gorgonzola!”