A Fall to Grace
Chapter 1

Copyright© 2017 by Kaffir

Grace Ward had been Transport Manager at Wilkins Distribution for some three months having spent the previous three years with a similar firm as a trainee manager. Under her she had an Assistant Manager Vehicles, Greg Honey, and an Assistant Manager Workshops, Jeff Hardcastle. She reported to the Managing Director, Hugh Walker.

Just before half past eight in early January she arrived at her office and had hardly taken her coat and scarf off when there was a knock at her open door. A worried looking Terry Wilson was standing there.

“Good morning, Terry,” she smiled. “You’re not looking very happy. What’s up?”

“Greg Honey’s wife rung in. He’s got the flu so that’s eight off with it and we’re at least one driver short for all the runs scheduled for today. I can’t see a way round it other than me driving which means that it’ll only be Claire left in the vehicle office to handle emergencies.”

“Oh!” exclaimed Grace. She brought the details board up on her computer and growled at it. “This is too small. Let’s go down and look at the proper one.”

She glanced at Angie her secretary in the outer office who gave her a thumbs up and went out to the vehicle office with Terry. They both gazed at the details board. Terry was right. Every available driver had a full day and all the details were for the large trucks. Grace had a HGV 2 licence and so could not legally drive an articulated lorry.

“I can’t help you out as a driver,” she said to Terry. “I’ve never driven an artic nor am I licensed to. Have you asked Jeff Hardcastle if he’s got a qualified fitter to spare?”

Terry nodded. “He’s short-handed too and has a job list as long as your arm.”

“Damn! Well there’s only one thing for it. I’ll have to sit in with Claire so that you can get away.” She grinned. “If I make a total nonsense I’ll ring you for help but I hope it won’t come to that.”

Terry grinned back. “I’m sure it won’t.”

They both raised crossed fingers and laughed.

“Don’t tempt the devil!” giggled Claire.

“I must pop back to my office, grab some work and brief Angie. Don’t wait for me, Terry.”

“Thanks. Good luck!”

She was back ten minutes later with a bundle of paperwork which she put down on Greg’s desk.

“Coffee?” asked Claire.

“Yes, please. I haven’t had one since breakfast this morning and that seems like ages ago. Now, going back to my initial walk round, there’s the details board which you keep up.”

“Yes!”

“There’s a map marked with recovery services and places for overnight stops.”

“Yes! There’s also a telephone directory for them and for the local police.”

“OK. What about ambulances?”

“We leave them up to the police when the driver calls them.”

“OK. Anything else?”

“Yes. I’ve also put together a directory for the customers and the delivery points for today.”

“Good thinking. Now, presumably you’re happy to deal with routine calls.”

“Sure. I’ll soon let you know if I can’t.”

Grace smiled and held up crossed fingers. Claire smiled back.

The morning was silent other than Terry ringing in at eleven to ask whether all was well. Claire assured him it was. At half past twelve the first call came in reporting delivery on time. More followed. At one a driver reported a major hold-up on the M5. Claire noted it and warned off the goods recipient who was grateful for the call. The same driver considerably later on reported that he had arrived but the recipients were not prepared to complete the unloading that night. Grace took that one over and spoke to the firm’s contact warning him that they would be responsible for the driver’s evening meal, bed and breakfast.

“Don’t worry,” was the reply. “I’ve warned my wife off. He’ll be staying the night with us.”

Grace thanked him but then looked ruefully at Claire. “We’ll still be short of a driver tomorrow morning.”

“Actually we’ve still got two spare and it’s not often there’s a panic request.”

“Fingers crossed.”

Terry was back shortly after five o’clock and offered to take over seeing the other returnees safely in. Grace turned him down.

“Thanks, Terry, but you’ve been on the road apart from unloading for eight or so hours. Go and get your head down.”

At that moment the telephone rang. Claire answered it and then turned to them.

“Wally Stevens has had an accident on the M4 between Oxford and Banbury. He had to brake hard and suddenly and a tailgater hit him. He’s OK and his wagon’s trailer’s got a dent but the car driver, despite the airbags was concussed and in a state of shock. His car’s probably a write off. He’s called the police and asked for recovery for the car and an ambulance for the driver.”

Grace put her hand out for the phone. Claire handed it to her.

“Wally, it’s Grace Ward. Terry’s driving and I’m standing in. I’m glad you’re not hurt and that everything’s under control. Well done! Do you reckon the police will let you go soon?”

“Doubt it. They’ll want a statement an’ all but they won’t be doin’ that until they’ve got the car driver off to hospital and shifted ‘is wreck so that’ll probably be an hour then it’ll be another couple a hours to get back to base which means eight at the earliest.”

“You obviously don’t want to spend the night away...”

“No!”

“OK. I’ll give your wife a ring and say you’re going to be late and why but that you and your wagon are in one piece and not hurt.”

“Thanks! Maybe not ‘urt but bloody angry. Stupid bastard! One o’ them boy racers by the look of ‘im, I reckon.”

Grace chuckled. “So would I be and you’re probably right about the driver.’ Bye, Wally.”

Terry smiled at her. “Quite clear I’m not needed. Thanks, Miss Grace.”

She smiled back. “Off you go!

“Right, Claire, off you go too!”

“You sure?”

“Quite. I haven’t anyone to go home to.”

“Thanks. These are the keys to the main gate and to the office. Greg normally does them.”

“Fine! Oh! What time to the security guys arrive?”

“Six thirty. Don’t worry about them. They all know their way about and use the workshop office as a rest room. Ooh! With Greg off sick they’ll need an emergency number to ring.”

“Give ‘em mine,” said Terry.

“No! I told you to go and get your head down.”

She wagged a finger at him and Terry grinned.

Claire and Terry left and Grace rang Angie, told her what she was doing and to go home.

Nothing much happened after that other than drivers coming in to leave their keys. Most were surprised to see Grace there but took it in their stride as she explained why.

In between whiles Grace thought about the day and realised ruefully that she had not been doing her job as well as she might. First and foremost she needed to get to know all the drivers and fitters a lot better. A remote boss did not generate confidence in management or esprit de corps. She recalled the MTO in her army unit. He knew every man jack in his empire and enough to be able to chat with individuals about their interests and also gauge their ability and leadership qualities.

The second thing was that, if today had been anything like normal, the drivers were working too hard. There needed to be rest days depending on how long they had been at the wheel. There was legislation about how long they could drive at a time but she suspected that the company wanted to keep the number of drivers at a legal minimum purely for reasons of expense. She needed to look into it. She would have initially to talk to Terry about it and then have a further discussion with Greg when he got back.

She looked at the details board for the next day. Wally was due out on a ten hour detail at seven-thirty in the morning. If he got back at eight this evening he would have to ‘put his truck to bed’, get home (half an hour?), have something to eat and unload about the accident to his wife (an hour?). He would have to be up at five to be in for work by six to check his vehicle and be briefed on the detail. Five to six hours sleep after a more stressful than usual day was hardly the recipe for an alert driver to drive eight hours the following day. Was this the pressure they worked under all the year round? It was something else she needed to look into.

No! She had not been doing her job properly. She had to hope that Hugh Walker, her General Manager, was not of the same opinion!

Chapter 2 »

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