Chapter 10

“I see what you mean. I should be able to do that, Frances. Keep an eye on Rex for me, dear?”

Jessica took the printed draft to her room to peruse it, accepting that most of the board would be middle-aged, middle-class, men of various educational standards, and she should read it with them in mind.

Hearing about the draft report, the other wives came to Reg and asked for a company meeting to review it.

“Why?” he asked, uncertain of what they were after.

“We each saw our own stores, but we haven’t had an overview of the whole set of grocery store targets, Reg.” said Fiona, fronting the group. “There may be similarities we haven’t yet spotted.”

He was at first taken aback, then saw their point.

“Yes, we do need an overview, even if it is only in case we do a similar contract in the future. I’ll get Frances to call the meeting and print out a copy of the draft report for each of you to look at in advance. Jessica has a copy to look over as an outsider.”

He caught Frances after she had prepared Jessica to examine the report. He explained what the other ladies intended, and why he saw it as warranted. She swiftly assented, and told him, “I’ll get a meeting room arranged with the hotel manager, and copies printed for examining before the meeting. I should have thought of that myself: too inward-looking, I’m afraid. I’ll ask Jessica to join us when she has gone through the draft.”

A room was available, so the meeting was soon in session, the girls still browsing their copies of the draft report. Fiona was first to comment when she was ready.

“Shouldn’t we have a section for our modus operandi, rather than a bland ‘Observations’? We should let them know what parameters we were using as guidelines when we examined the stores.”

Frances exclaimed, “Dammit. That is right, and we forgot it. It is important in a professional matter such as this, telling them how we proceeded with our thinking: our operational method. Thanks, Fiona.”

She looked around the room. “Main points, please?”

Prudence put in, “Location, location, location. We looked not just at an actual site of the store, but its relevance to the community of today. Some stores were appropriately positioned when first opened, but what with one thing and another, some of them were no longer conveniently sited. The group should have been looking at relocation before now, and sell the old site for a different type of store that customers would drive to: furniture centre, car showroom or a high-tech store are examples.”

“A valid criticism, Prudence. Anything else?”

Freda suggested, “Changes of manager every few years. That keeps them on their toes, expands their experience, and prevents them setting up scams that will probably be revealed and closed down when a new manager comes in.”

Jemima was more interested in staffing.

“I would like to suggest that they pay more attention to staff development. By that I mean giving the staff a chance of learning a more responsible job, such as assistant to the manager in organising locally-sourced supplies. If senior, more experienced, store staff get a shot at such a task, the chances of scams being successful will be minimised. You could have an advanced placement in another store for a week or so, to see how things were done elsewhere. One store may have introduced a good idea and they can pick it up, or conversely she or he can tell them what they are doing unwisely, from her own experience.”

Erika commented, “Someone should be doing training on financial aspects of running a store. Things like negotiating a new deal for local supplies of potatoes. Such a deal should for example have a flexibility clause to allow for bad harvests or bumper harvests, reflecting the price paid to the supplier and passed to the store’s customers. Customers tend to be aware of harvest variability.”

Frances said, “You would think the head office would have such a flexibility clause as standard, and could pass on that pattern for the local store to use in local contracts.”

Reg agreed with this thinking. “I would expect that to be the case, but that is on the basis of good commonsense thinking. We know from past experience that ‘it ain’t necessarily so’.

A knock came at the door, and Jessica peeped in. “Okay to come in, Frances?”

“Please do, Jessica. You can tell us what, if anything, you saw.”

“Now?”

“Yes, we have come to a natural break in our discussion, so now is fine.”

Jessics gestured with the printout. “Apart from several typos that I circled on this copy, I wondered if you intended to tell them how you embarked on the checks: what you were looking for; but you may have wanted to keep that to yourselves.”

Frances chuckled, “No, that was an error that we have now realised, Jessica: well spotted. Anything more?”

“Only on the fees chargeable. I know it is in the contract, but board members do not always read a contract. They expect the lawyers to do that and tell them what they need to be aware of. I think it would be wise to spell out again the fees payable on succesful work by you.”

“Most insightful, Jessica. Do you go along with Jessica on that point, ladies?”

Enough murmers of approval came that Frances announced, “We will insert that from the contract, word for word. Then they can’t say they didn’t know or didn’t understand, when it comes to paying us. They have lawyers to tell them the meaning. I just love contracts that your Dad writes for us, Freda!”

Freda smiled sweetly. “I can always depend on Daddy to know how to word a contract to get the best out of it. He confirmed what you assumed, Frances, regarding capital costs making changes we recommend. The contract stipulates that the contract relates solely to our recommendations for action, and savings that result from these. All legal, social and commercial outcomes during implementation are solely a matter for the client, and have no direct relationship to the investigating company’s proposals. That is why fees are only payable if the client decides to go down the recommended route and improved profitability arises. That is what we expect to happen, so we will be well paid in the end.”

“Is that the wording, Freda?” asked an uncertain Reg, to which she responded, “Of course not; nothing so simple. Daddy put it in legal terminology that they can’t get out of, even if they fully understand what they signed up to.”

“I expected as much,” chortled Reginald.

Frances now asked the meeting, “Has anyone any other observations to make? I would like to get this document rewritten, ready to send out tomorrow.”

The others seemed to be satisfied that enough alterations had been made to their satisfaction. They would be happy to leave Frances to do the rewrite job with the assistance of Freda.

“Fine. In that case, the meeting is adjourned. Thank you, ladies. Your contributions were excellent.”

Everyone got a good sleep that night, after all the travelling and the seperation from their offspring who now got lots of cuddles and other mummy treatment. Hermione and Jemima phoned their mother before going to bed, to satisfy themselves that their babies were comfortable.

In the morning, Sandra got a frantic text from Bobby, so she showed it to Frances at breakfast, while Sidra and Elizabeth filled in for her at the nursery.

“Please read this, Frances: it is from Bobby.”

Frances converted the minimal-spelling text to English in her mind: “Mummy has gone to the press! I don’t know what she was telling them, but a reporter phoned me to ask about you and the Robertsons.”

Sandra’s reply: “Oh God. What did you say?”

“I told her – it was a woman – that I only knew that you worked for the Robertson family, with a lot of women and their babies. She asked: “Your mother said it was polygamy but the police wouldn’t listen to her. What do you know about it?”

I said, “It is not polygamy, as Mr Robertson is not married to any of them according to my girlfriend”: I thought it was easier to not go into what happened between us.

She said to me, “Is it white slavery, then?” and I asked, “What do you mean, white slavery?” and she said, “Women acting under duress: forced to submit to sex.”

That didn’t seem right, so I told her, “Well, they all appear to be happy, and Sandra says they work for the company as well, getting well paid. There doesn’t appear to be any pressure on them.”

“What company is that?” and I said I didn’t know, so she asked where they lived. I had to admit to knowing where you worked for them normally, so she took a note of the address. Tell the Robertsons to expect some pressure from a popular daily, probably at their home address. Sorry about all this, Sandra. I didn’t think Mummy would go this far.”

Sandra then told Frances that she had informed Bobby that his mother’s actions had forced her to refuse to go out with him ever again. He said he accepted this as final and the call ended.

Frances said, in a kindly manner, “It is probably all to the good, Sandra. You have done your best. It is now up to us Robertsons to fend off the media. We have done it before and we will do it again.”

“Thanks, Frances. I’ll get back to the children now.”

After a moment, Frances phoned home, seeking Holly and Carol, not bothered which one answered the phone. It was Holly again.

“Holly, Frances here. Beware the press, lovey. Some daft woman has set them on us, claiming we were in a polygamous marriage, which we are not. Stall them in any way you can, from downright refusal to speak to them, to claiming you know nothing. The main thing is to admit nothing at all, no matter what they ask you. These journalists will try to twist anything you say into something you didn’t mean, so say nothing at all with any meaning.

‘I am merely an employee of the Robertsons’ could be a good ploy. Imply that you don’t ask anything personal, and so don’t have any useful information at all. You can agree to phoning them if you find anything interesting. We’ll find something we can tell them to mislead them.”

Holly laughed delightedly. “I know you, Frances; you’ll confuse them utterly!”

“We’ll see. Just be prepared. As word of warning: the journalist may not say they are a journalist. They may say that they are a friend, looking for one of us. If you get something like that, ask what you can pass on to the person concerned; look for detail and don’t be fobbed off with vague assurances. If necessary, act daft, as if you are less intelligent then you are. I have seen you do that before, so I know you can manage to put on a good act.”

“Damn: I thought I was good, trying to confuse you!” admitted Holly.

“Mostly because I knew you were trying to get out of doing something, Holly dear. Keep me posted if you get a bite from the popular press.”

Frances then informed Reg of developments. He was not happy. “I don’t like it, Frances, when outsiders take an interest in us like this.”

“We take things as they come, my darling. We can always get Freda’s Dad to slap an injunction on them if they get too intrusive.”

“The trouble with that is you either get to know what they are about to publish; and that’s not easy. Or, you try to stop them continuing afterwards, which is again unsatisfactory.”

“Well, I have done what I can. Holly and Carol have been briefed to say as little as possible to the media. We can do no more, so let’s get back to the submission to our client.”

After breakfast, Jemima came over to Frances to say, “We need to go back to the farm to our babies, Frances. Do you need us today or can we stay wih Mum and Dad or a while?”

“I understand that desire for your babies. I have nothing in my mind today for you girls, so go and enjoy yourselves at the farm with your parents. Check with Reg as well, but if he is fine with it, on you go; I’ll phone for our minibus, in case Reg wants to visit them as well. In fact, stay over with your folks tonight; we’ll keep in touch by phone. I don’t believe we have any other business to conduct here.”

Reginald’s phone rang again. He was surprised to be so popular, but answered with his number. A male voice asked, “Reginald Robertson?”

“Yes.”

“We spoke before. This is Tom Freeman, of the Scarborough News; You recall?”

“Yes, Mr Freeman. What do you want to say now?”

“A delicate matter. I got a call from a national newspaper. They have an allegation that you are a polygamist, but at the same time the police say it is not true. They want me to clarify the situation for them. Are you able to help?”

“Ah, I understand. This arises from an overactive middle-aged woman who objected to her son being the boyfriend of our babysitter. He broke it off, but something was said about our living arrangements and she threatened to go to the police. Our babysitter rightly said ‘go ahead if you want to appear foolish’, and stupidly she did. When the police informed her that there was no case to answer, she decided to take things farther and phoned the popular press.

Naturally any hint of scandal interests them, as it sells newspapers. That is why you have become embroiled in the story.”

“Let me get this straight. You were accused of being in a polygamous marriage, but the police confirmed it was not so. Where is the story?” He halted, then went on, “Oh, wait: these ladies on your company staff; they live with you, don’t they?”

“Yes. We all live and work in a large building owned by Frances’ father. It works for us.”

“Right. You are not married to any of them, but they live in your home with you?”

“Well, we all live in our combined business premises and accomodation. Is that a crime?”

“Not as far as I am aware, but to read some of the tabloids, they will make it sound as if it is!”

“So there is the situation. We have a legal address for our business, and our staff living accomodation is within the same building as it is a sizeable structure.”

“That is clear enough, Reginald. What is not clear to me is the bunch of babies that you have with your staff. Do any of them have a recognised father?”

“Of course they do: me.”

“Eh? You admit to fathering all these babies?”

“That is not what I said, Tom. I am the father of each, according to their birth certificates. That is much better for them than a blank for the father. I regard it as a social duty towards my girls and it makes for a cohesive staff for the Company. The Company funds a creche for the children, making their work/home life less complicated.”

“Ah, yes, the Company. Remind me of it’s name; I failed to note it previously.”

“The Company is registered as ‘Recovery Enterprise Group’. The name states our business: recovering assets lost, mislaid or misappropriated in large organisations such as companies, local authorities, and national charities; that sort of thing. We can conduct operations that are awkward for an in-house investigatory section to do without alerting wrongdoers.”

“Recovery Enterprise Group? Doesn’t that abbreviate to R.E.G.? Reg?”

“Why, so it does! The name was devised by our staff before we applied to register the business. They wanted something memorable. We have our formal legal representation for the business and a qualified company accountant. It is all regularly done according to business law, and we are gathering some useful clients. In fact, we are currently concluding a contract for a grocery chain.”

“So the story is less of a scandal and more of a feel-good approach to life?”

“You could say that. Several of the ladies are fellow students at my university, one is an older lady fleeing an abusive ex-husband, and two are Scarborough natives, former layabouts who now have responsible jobs in our oganisation. They are just back from visiting two grocery stores as part of our wider team investigation. They made excellent reports on their research, and these have been incorporated into our overall report. Everyone contributed to that report.”

Tom Freeman asked again, “Reginald: can I be assured that you did not father some of these babies?”

“Tom, that is a question that only a dna analysis could prove, for definite. I am not going to make such a claim of fatherhood for any of these babes, but I gave them my name on registration, and I will act as if they are my children, and love them as such. They deserve no less.”

“Therefore you are not claiming that these women are your wives?”

“That is so. I do not make such a claim, but the ladies are determined to declare to me that they are my wives. There is a great difference.”

“You do not claim they are your wives, but they claim that you are their husband. That sounds odd to me. This is without any duress, I presume.”

“Certainly. They didn’t put me under duress.”

“Pardon me, but I meant that the ladies were under no duress, not you!”

“No duress on anyone’s part, Tom. At one point, about a year ago, they decided that they would be my wives, and informed me of that decision. They told me that to allow one to legally marry me would be unfair on the others, so they elected to forego a formal marriage. Instead, they organisaed a commitment ceremony, where we all pledged ourselves to each other.”

“So, effectively a marriage, but not a legal one?”

“That would cover it. We all intend to remain together for the forseeable future. That may be more of a positive outcome than most legal marriages, would you say?”

“What has this to do with your company?”

“Oh. We encountered a few financial oddities, starting with one at the university. We worked on it as a team, and solved it satisfactorily, and that spurred us think in terms of a business opportunity, and it snowballed from there. Having a team of undergraduates to hand, we involved them all and recruited them into the company structure.”

“You did this, yourself?”

“Gosh, no; I am a relative simpleton when it comes to finance. The ladies organised themselves and involved their parents as well. It made the whole operation simpler, especially when students wanted to set up a company. Their parents stepped in and in no time it was all done and dusted.”

“You didn’t take charge?”

“Good Lord, no. I am from a poor working class background. I have no experience in such matters.”

“Poor background? But you appear to be affluent now!”

“Serendipity, Tom. Sheer luck. I was donated a metal detector and managed to find a silver hoard on a local farm near our home. Even with half going to the landowner by law, I ended up with a lot of cash. Last time I went back there, for another try, all I found was unexploded German bombs!”

“You do live an interesting life, Mr Robertson. This is not the story you gave to me previously.”

“Different questions result in different answers, Mr Freeman. Two reporters could write completely different stories from the same facts, as I am sure you are aware.”

“True. Can I speak to one of your self-procliamed wives, Reginald?”

“Sure. Frances! Come speak to the editor of the Scarborough News.”

He left it up to her as to what she told him.

“Hello, sir. What can I do for you?”

“My name? Mrs Frances Robertson.”

“It is my legal name, sir.”

She listened then declared, “You ought to know something about the law of England, to edit a newspaper. I changed my name by deed poll, and that is what it now is.”

“Wife? Yes, I am Reg’s wife, though there is no marriage certificate to say so. We don’t need that piece of paper.”

He asked a few more questions, but the answers merely corroborated what Reginald had told him, and he gave up.

“Thank you, Mrs Robertson, and goodbye.”’ He sat back at his desk, and pondered what he had heard. Their voices held the timbre of reality, and it all held together as a tale, despite its weirdness.

But what could he tell the national daily? He would expect a fee for supplying the information, but they would expect a usable set of data in return. He didn’t want to make things awkward for the Robertsons, and he certainly didn’t want to impact their Company. He could imagine being sued for defamation of the company’s officers, so he didn’t want that to come his way.

Thinking for a while, he decided to go with a simple statement of facts, adding at frequent intervals the phrase ‘I understand’’ or ‘I was told’ and other get-out phrases where he could show that he did not make unsubstantiated claims, but merely passed on second-hand information. He did not get to be an editor without learning to avoid the pitfalls of stating as fact what you can’t back up with evidence. The national dailies had lawyers to tell them what they could get away with, and even then, they often got it wrong.

He wrote his story details, looked it over, then started revising it over and over until he was certain he had said nothing that could traced back to him as inaccurate. Before sending it by email, he read it over again to make himself certain that he was covered.

After sending it off, he send a second copy to Reginald Robertson for his information, so that they could see what was actually sent, with a covering note, ‘This is what I passed to the national daily, so that you can see that I made no unwarranted claims about you or your family or your business. I would recommend you pass it to your company lawyer for him to compare it with whatever the daily prints’. He added the email address for the daily.

On receiving the email, Reginald showed it to Frances to read and comment. She was quick to say, “Thre is nothing salacious or actionable there. He has worded it very well, but I would take his advice and give it to Hubert Dangerfield to have him see what actually appears.”