Chapter 9

There was another call after they got back to the hotel.

This was from the second pair, led by Prudence, reporting that their target store was in trouble for all sorts of reasons: bad siting, movement of population away, vandalism that made the store look unattractive, and to top it all, simple bad management by the guy in charge. Their formal report would recommend closure.

“The store accounts show this was not a new situation, but one building up as time went on. The manager must have a friend at head office, for the data is pretty clear. The basis for closure has been there for at least a year, if not more.”

Reg’s only comment when told this was, “Once they close that store and pay off the liabilities, the chain should save a fair bit of money. We need to point this out in the report, so that when they conclude the closure, we should be due a payment from these extra savings.”

The Robson sisters had not reported in by the time they were all about to sit down to their evening meal, but it was not clear how much driving on older roads they had to do to get to their store destination. Once you got off the motorway, the roads were more difficult to negotiate, so slower, and they had been left with two in such locations.

Jessica asked to join them this time, and Reg was happy to oblige, so she used the hotel lift to make it easy for her. She asked how things were going at the stores, and Frances brought her up to date while they ate. Jessica was stirred by the impact the girls were making on the store problems, and so quickly too. Sidra and Elizabeth were also interested and listened in.

“I am amazed at how you can send these girls out to distant places and expect good results from them all, Reg. They can’t surely all be good at problem solving?”

Reg explained, “We are not asking them to solve the problems they find, Jessica; just bring them to the attention of the store chain for action. It is an investigation of the facts as we find them. Our ladies are trained by their university studies to get at the basic facts and see where these facts take them; collecting relevant facts is part of studying a topic.

Even in historical subjects, the same process applies. You search out the causes behind the battles and dynastic conflicts, to find what really mattered at the time. Often the officially-stated reasons are not the true ones. Many disputes boil down to arguments over control of resources, or simply access to resources, and often that comes out in the background reading.

At times religious disputes are genuinely arguments over interpretation of religious doctrine, but just as often it may be a power play by one side or the other to be in control of the organisation that rules the religious body.

Battles between semi-autonomous cities for supremacy in medieval times may in fact be the leading families in each city pushing for a fight so that the other family is shoved out of the way in the furtherance of trade routes, or gaining a monopoly over a spice trade or a profitable market in certain goods.

The same principle often occurs in disputes between nation states. A leader may secure his own position by seeking to conquer or humiliate another state. Winning usually goes down well with your population if you are an autocratic ruler. It goes down even better if you get a reputation for winning battles, even if the winning is done by good generals of the ruler. The leader gets the plaudits for the success of the nation’s army.

In the case of our company, every success we have encourages more success, as our executives are emboldened by previous successes to push themselves to do even better. The CEO of Recovery Enterprise Group – me – doesn’t have to do the real work, as long as the staff work assiduously to solve every problem they meet. I act as figurehead, or Frances does when I am not available. The CEO’s job is mostly public relations with clients while the rest of the team performs the successful actions. Our Group as a consequence gains the praise of the client.”

“Well, my man, When the girls all get back with their initial reports it will be up to you and me to go over them and re-jig them into formal company reports to our client. That means we need a standard format to use. I suggest it could be like this: Summary of the contract details, and what these mean for progressing the work our investigators have been doing and our expenses in doing so. This will include travel by hire car, accommodation costs, and subsistence incurred during travel and on site. It is noted that a proposed figure has been mooted, and we therefore try to contain our total costs within that sum as far as is reasonable in the circumstances.

Observations: matters noted by our investigators about the locality, population movement or lack thereof, condition of the building and its surroundings, etc.

The store itself: Notes on interior condition, presentation of goods for sale, and levels of apparent staff customer training and knowledge of stock. Relationship between staff and the management team; relationship between the management team and local suppliers. Relationship with the local community – press and media appearances, assistance to local charities, staff involvement in local festivals.

Crime: Fraud, shoplifting, and other criminal activities by staff or outsiders, and suggested action by the Head Office thereto.

Recommendations: closure; investment; retraining; redeployment of good staff; suggested alterations to suppliers and/or distribution arrangements.

Our estimate of possible savings, if any.

Reg? Do you have anything to add to this reporting format? I have been thinking about it while feeding Jimmy. It gave me a way of keeping my mind active during that sedentary task.”

“Only thing I would suggest is to draw their attention to the part of the contract about fees payable to us on completion. Remind them politely that our fee structure is laid out in paragraph X, and that contractually it applies to any further savings made in other stores of the chain as a direct result of our findings and advice/recommendations.”

“Trust you to look at the income side, Reg.”

“That is my task as CEO: Make sure our company remains solvent!”

Frances rewarded him with a kiss and a hug.

Reg said to all the women, “I am full. I fancy a walk outside and have a look at the views of the beach and the sea. Anyone want to join me?”

Frances looked at Jessica, and both declared with a scowl: “Babies!”, but Sidra and Elizabeth were keen.

“Let’s go, Dad. As we go, you can tell us about the shelling of the town by the Germans in 1914. It seems it was an important part of our history.”

“Once we are on our way. It is a long tale but I’ll try to shorten it.”

They were wandering along the street, but it was packed with parked cars. “I want to get to a street fronting the beach, without cars getting in the way of the view. The Shuttleworth Gardens would suit. The story starts then.”

On arrival, the girls were quite taken with the well-kept gardens and lawns, but still demanded the history of the Bombardment.

“December 1914. The Germans decided they could not survive a face-to-face engagement with the Royal Navy, so thought that a punitive attack on an undefended coastline would drive home a message. Curiously enough, the British intelligence service got word of this attack, but decided to wait until the attack happened, then catch the raiders on their way home. Stupidly, they missed the fleet and the raiders got home safe.

Anyway, the bombardment hit Scarborough, Hartlepool and Whitby. The raiders cruised up the coast then back down again, and fired around a thousand shells. There were no defensive coastal batteries to stop them. The first shells hit Scarborough at eight in the morning, and shells landed mostly on residential areas, plus the major coastal target, the Grand Hotel. They even attacked the ancient Scarborough Castle on the headland, where there was an army barracks; it was hit.

The death toll was minimal, less than forty I think, with about 500 injured. Talking about injured, there was a convalescent hospital for war wounded from the trenches, and that hospital got a hit, without much damage. Patients who were upstairs were rushed downstairs in case there were more shells.

There was more damage and deaths in Hartlepool, but Scarborough got the publicity as it was a well-known coastal resort. The national press produced lurid headlines about the raid, and again featured Scarborough as it was the best-known of the three towns.

The borough was good at PR and pushed for the army to avenge the bombardment. That was a good line to take, and ‘Remember Scarborough’ appeared on recruiting posters afterwards.

“Did they have to evacuate after the raid?” asked Elizabeth.

“Not at all. The day of the raid, a lot of people jumped on trains to York and London to be safer, but the excitement soon died down and things got back to normal, ready for the summer tourist season next year.”

“So it wasn’t a terrible disaster at all?” demanded Elizabeth.

“It was, for the people involved. It was terrifying for the local residents who were lucky enough not to be injured. One school got hit by a shell, but it was so early that practically no-one was there at the time, so instead the pupils got an early start to their Christmas holiday. The school didn’t re-open until January.”

“You seem to know a lot of detail about this, Reg,” opined Sidra. “How come?”

“Interest. Some stories grab your attention, and then I found a talk on U-tube about the bombardment. It was fascinating to watch.”

They watched as the moon rose over the ocean in front of them. Elizabeth declared, “That’s beautiful, Dad.”

Reg acknowledged the fact. “It is. I have always liked seeing the moon in the sky; I don’t know why. Perhaps because it was on its own, but surviving all the same; just as I was, when I was growing up.”

“Aww, that’s sad, Reg. I had a good early childhood, then it went bad for me. You had a bad childhood, then life got better for you. You never know what lies ahead of you, do you?”

“Currently, I do. We have a company to run, babies to care for, two teenage girls to be parented as best we can, and university courses to complete. I reckon I am going to be busy for a long time.”

They finished their walk in the twilight, getting back to the hotel just as the street lamps were switching on. The girls told Reg they were feeling tired and that after they had said goodnight to Frances and their mother, they were going to bed.

When they found Frances and Jessica in the nursery, Frances was saying goodnight to someone on the phone. Reg asked who that had been.

“Jemima this time. She wanted a time to chat with me.”

“Anything to report yet?”

“Yes and no. They went through the second store as it was not too far from the first; just a few miles, but all they could get from their visit is that the manager seemed to let the store run itself. The store seemed to be fine, with plenty of customers coming and going, and the staff were friendly and chatty. There was just a touch of reserve about them, as if they weren’t telling us everything. The thing is, neither of us could get a handle on what was off about the store, apart from the lackadaisical attitude of the manager.

You would expect that the staff would be happy with that kind of manager, and they were, sort of. There was just that feeling we got, but couldn’t put a finger on what it was. We gave up and went out to our car in the car park. As we stood there talking, a woman came up to us and asked, ‘You girls came out without a shopping bag. Do you want a special deal for some groceries?’ That was odd, but we played along.

‘Don’t mind if I do,’ said Hermione.

The woman, a middle-aged lady, said, ‘My daughter works in there, and she can get you stuff at a lower price, if you want it.’ Hermione volunteered, ‘I could certainly do with some tinned stuff, but I didn’t have time to stand in a long queue.’ ‘If you give me your shopping list, I can get my daughter to collect the items into a bag for you, if you are able to pay cash. The deal is cash only.’ Hermione got her purse out and checked her cash.

‘Yes, I think I should have enough to pay for what I need. Hang on until I get my sister to write down the list.’ She dictated to Jemima what she wanted, and handed it to the woman, who got her phone out and transmitted the details to her daughter. Actually what she did was take a picture of the list and sent the picture, after saying, ‘a shopping list for a couple of girls, dear.’ Next, the woman took us on a walk round to the back, to the staff entrance, and there we waited for a short while, then the door opened. She walked over to the door and accepted a heavy carrier bag. ‘How much?’ she queried and was told a figure. She then came over to us and held the bag open for us to look and confirm it was what Hermione wanted, then said what the charge was.

It was indeed a lot less that one would have expected, so Hermione handed over the cash, saying ‘keep the change if there is any’, then we left.

Hermione led me back to the car, and we got in.

‘What do you think from that, sis?’ ‘To my mind, if it is happening with one member of staff, it is probably happening with a lot of them, and if the price you paid is the wholesale price, then the loss to the firm would be the total profit on these goods. We need to think on this farther and come back in the morning to test it out. No, what we should do is come back just before closing time and watch the back door to see what happens, to get a shot at the scale of the theft.’ Frances had said, ‘How do you think this seemed so easy?’ ‘Two factors, Frances. One, the staff door can’t have any bar code detector for items leaving without being put through the till, and second, the manager is not making any checks to stop this going on. It is theft on a grand scale, for the combination of what they walk off with for themselves, plus what they sell on to other people, must be significant.’ Frances had agreed. ‘I can imagine: each member of staff walking out the staff door at the end of a shift with a carrier bag full of stolen goods. They probably see it as a perk of the job rather than theft, though that woman who offered you a deal was definitely involved with theft.’ Reg took all this in and asked Frances, “So what are they recommending for that store?”

“They will give us their full opinion tomorrow morning, but I would hazard that it will be to close the store and make all the staff redundant. The only other option that comes to mind is that store which was failing despite the good and effective staff. We could suggest that they transfer all those staff to this store and give it a new lease of life.”

“Hmmm. That sounds innovative, if the staff are willing to move to another store. They would need to get a transfer allowance for at least a year, to let them find new accommodation and cover their travel costs while they do that search. We’ll wait and see what Hermione and Jemima have to say.”

“I am okay with that. Another night with you, Frances, before the others get back?”

“Hmm ... yes, I would like that. Are we going for more children, my love, or do you have enough?”

“As always, Frances, that is up to what you and the girls want. Fiona has already says she wants a second. How about you?”

“I have never been keen on my baby being an only child, but with all the others having babies ... I still want two of my own, Reg. Full siblings is a trifle better than half-siblings, I feel.”

They were interrupted by sobs from Sandra, and looked up to see her staring at her phone. She exclaimed, “Bastard mummy’s boy!”

Frances called to her, “What’s the problem, Sandra?”

Sandra scrunched down as if to make herself smaller. “My boyfriend ... my ex-boyfriend; he has dumped me!”

Frances opened her arms, “Oh, Sandra; how terrible! Come here, dear: you need comforting.”

Sandra got up and rushed to Frances and be enveloped in her embrace. Frances murmured to her words of encouragement, “It will get better eventually, Sandra. Teen romances are always getting broken up, dear. It is not the end of the world. Another boy will appear in your life and you will forget all about this one. I hope you haven’t given yourself to him?”

“No, We haven’t gone that far, Frances”, the girl sobbed softly, slowly getting over the initial shock. She continued, not realising the details she was giving out, “I only let him touch me with his hands and fingers. I am still intact down there.”

“There you are then: Nothing for you to be ashamed of, just emotional scarring that will soon heal over. Was he much older than you?”

“Just a year: I thought that was old!”

“He was just a boy, then, Sandra. Has he found another girl he liked? Did she sweep him off his feet?”

“Nothing like that. His mother...” she stopped and went back to sobbing her distress. Frances let her continue crying, and signed to Reg for a drink. He nodded, and went to the bathroom for it. He returned with a half glass of water and handed it to Frances. She persuaded Sandra to sip at it, and this distracted her from her distress.

“Thanks, Frances. I am so sorry to involve you in my troubles, ma’am.” She was recovering her stability and remembering Frances was her employer.

“Not at all, Sandra. You are almost family by now, just like Elizabeth, but you still have your parents to fall back on.”

“Oh. I can’t tell them about this, ma’am. It is too private for me.”

“Nothing is too private for your mother, Sandra. Mothers can be very understanding about love that has gone wrong. Half of mothers experienced the same thing when they were younger; well, except for me. I never had a boyfriend before Reg. You were lucky that way.”

“What? Never had a boyfriend?”

“I was only friends with boys when I was small and they paid no attention to my looks. When I developed into a woman, but my face did not similarly change for the better, it was a turn-off for boys, I am sorry to say.”

“Oh, I am so sorry, Frances. That must have been terrible.”

“Terrible, no. You get used to being ignored by boys at school; as long as they don’t taunt you as being ugly.”

“They didn’t, did they?”

“No, I didn’t get that at school. Enough of them knew my dad was a developer, and they assumed he was a tough guy, so they were scared I would set him on them if they were nasty, so they didn’t try it. I had more bother from the girls, actually. They seemed to think that if they had a boyfriend and I didn’t, it made them superior. I didn’t, for I saw that being cleverer than them made me superior!”

“Yes, I see that. You didn’t miss not having a boyfriend?”

“Not really. I got closer to other girls who were in the same boat, and we had fun together.”

“Oh, you mean Freda and Erika?”

“Not during our schooldays, for we went to different schools, but any girls who did not fit the accepted norm of beauty. That was one of the reasons we fell for Reg: his idea of norms was anything that he liked, and to him, personality, brains and social ability were all far more important than facial beauty. I now look on myself as beautiful in my own way, no matter what the outside world thinks. What I think, and what Reg thinks, is the determining factor in my life.”

“That is wonderful Frances. I always thought there was something special about you and Reg’s other women, but now I know what it is, at its basic level: appreciation of people for who they are, inside. I wish my boy... – my ex-boyfriend realised that.”

“Oh, what did he think?”

“He thought that you, Reg and the others were weird people. He couldn’t understand what I liked about my job with you. He really was short-sighted, wasn’t he, Frances?”

“He definitely was a lad with blinkers, Sandra. It is probably for the best that he broke it off.”

“It was not entirely his doing, Frances. His mother is a bit of a social climber, and she thought her son should not be associated with a girl who worked for you.”

“More fool her. This is a family that is going somewhere. It has a dynamic to it that most families never achieve. Every one of us is actively pursuing social, economic and educational targets to make us better people. I bet that woman is a mayfly, only interested in short-term gaudiness and then falling by the wayside or gobbled up by a predator.”

“You may be right, Frances, but she could be dangerous.”

“In what way? She is a nobody. In reality.”

“Ah, but I told my boyfriend that you were effectively a polygamous family. That shocked him for a while, but he must have told his mother, and that is why she was so down on him having me as a girlfriend; the association with you. She put pressure on him, and as he always did what his mother told him, he broke off our relationship.”

“With that sort of family, Sandra, you are better off without him and his mother. If your relationship had developed a lot more, she might have been your mother-in-law! Could you imagine that?”

“Ugh. That sounds dramatically horrible, Frances. Perhaps having him leave me was the best thing for me, and also for him. I would have been unhappy having an endlessly critical woman as a mother-in-law.”

“There now. You have stopped being upset, Sandra. Good for you, girl. We’ll start looking for a new boyfriend for you; someone who understands odd working hours. Did you know that policemen have many family breakdowns because of the working hours. Spouses often don’t appreciate the stresses that police work under, and that includes shift working that can be changed at a moment’s notice. A similar situation subsists for hospital doctors and nurses, who are under-appreciated by their family and friends.”

“You think that was part of the problem; that I work long hours for this family, including evenings and weekends?”

“I am sure it is part of the problem. Most folk who work 9-5 have evenings and weekends for socialising, but you often don’t. It is an extra pressure on a relationship, if the other side of the relationship is on a 9-5 schedule. That is why, if you want to continue with your career, you need a boyfriend who either is in a similar situation or can understand what life is like for you in your job.”

Sandra’s eyes widened as she thought this through.

“Frances, is this part of the reason why so many of Reg’s wives are at university? They all know the pressures they are under to attain their degrees and that Reg is in the same situation.”

“Interesting proposition, Sandra, but it is more than that, for you could equally cite propinquity as the link. No, all these factors play their part, for you are not likely to meet someone on the other side of the world, nor is a lawyer likely to meet and fall in love with farmworker. In the case of Reginald, we started with the ulterior motive of improving our results in our university classes. Getting to know Reginald better was a cultural shock for him and for us. We had no idea of the life he had lived as a child, and in other circumstances he would never have gone to university. He was still a little boy in a man’s body when he started classes. He did not know what to do or say to let a girl know she is appreciated, but we three had the social background to help us cope with Reg, so we took him under our wings, taught him the essentials, and ended up flying in the sky with him.”

“Frances, thank you for this discussion. You have made me feel a lot better about my life, and I understand more about how you ladies fit with Reg. You are amazing women, all of you.”

“Fine. Now Sandra would like a night off, so that you can get to bed early and have a good night’s sleep? It may help you get over that desertion.”

“You think I should, Frances? That would be great, but who is going to look after the babies during the night?”

“Who do you think? Me and Reg. If I hear a baby crying, I will get Reg to go fetch him or her. Then I will determine what the need is. If it is feeding, I’ll prepare the battle and feed the infant. If it is a nappy problem, Reg has enough experience now to change his offspring’s nappy. He knows where everything is kept. That right, darling?”

Reg, with a sigh, admitted, “Yes, Frances my love. I can do that.”

“Right. You have a double bed in here, so we will sleep here tonight, and you can have our room. Off you go, young lady, but do me a favour and tell Sidra and Elizabeth where we are. I’ll notify Jessica that Reg will come for her if it is her Rex needing fed.”

By morning, Reg was cursing the ability of babies to wake each other up. He had a couple of hour’s sleep before the first one needed a nappy change. His crying woke two others, so he had three to check out. One needed feeding; the other was another wet nappy. He took the hungry one to Frances and set to the nappy changing.

The first one was done and laid back down, and the second half changed when another started up. He let that one cry while he completed the nappy change and laid the baby down safely. He knew never to leave a baby alone on the changing table in case it rolled over and fell off.

Fortunately it was the hunger game again, so another one for Frances. The new one was a mucky bottom, so a clean-up as well as a new nappy and liner.

That was the end of that group crying session. Then little Rex cried for a feed, and he had to carry him through to Jessica’s room for her well-prepared breasts and ready nipples. She said she would take him back to the nursery when he was full and sleepy.

Reg got back to dozing for a while, with a sleepy Frances in his arms again, then another two started yelling. Both were hungry, so he passed them on to Frances, thinking he was finished.

No. He was no sooner back in bed when the first two nappy change babies now indicated they wanted a feed, so he had to help Frances by warming the formula and bottle while she saw to the actual feeding and burping. They were learning the joys of mass parenthood.

Morning was a blessing, as Sidra came in to ask how they were coping with the flock of babies. One started crying as soon as she arrived, so a zonked-out Reg called out, “Deal with that one please, Sidra. We need some sleep after a busy night!”

Reg and Frances slept late, never noticing when Jessica came in to feed Rex again, nor Elizabeth coming in to allow Sidra to have her beakfast. It was only when Sandra burst in that they woke.

“Mr Robertson! Mrs Robertson!”

“Yes, Sandra? What is it?”

“I’ve got a text from HIM, my ex-boyfriend. He says now that he is no longer linked to me, his mother is going to report you to the police!”

Reg and France both smiled at her, and Reg enquired, “What is she going to report, Sandra? Did you ask him?”

“No. I just found the text while I was having my breakfast, and I came straight to you.”

“Yes, I follow that. Why don’t you text him back and ask what his mother intends to report?”

Frances added, “The police will only be interested if a crime is involved. Do that text, dear, for me. It will be interesting.”

The befuddled Sandra typed the text into her phone and sent it off. Then she asked, “Why aren’t you worried, Frances? Polygamy is a crime, isn’t it?”

Frances took her hand. “A little lesson for you, on actual legal matters, Sandra. What is bigamy?”

“Oh, that is where a man marries a second wife while still married to his first wife.”

“Exactly. Now what is polygamy?”

“That will be where a man is married to several wives at the same time. Right?”

“Again, right. Now, tell me what crime your boyfriend’s mother is going to accuse us of?”

“Polygamy, of course!”

“Yes, I expect she will. The police will smile and ask, ‘What is your evidence, madam?’”

“Evidence? You mean, she has to go and get copies of your marriage certificates?”

“She dosn’t have to do that, Sandra; just give the police enough evidence for them to take it further. Just a couple of people who were at the weddings would do. The police would then ask the local registar to confirm that such marriages had taken place: simple.”

“What then? She gets the people as witnesses, and that will set the police investigation in motion?”

“Yes. So she will get nowhere. She will find no evidence whatsoever.”

“Why not, Mrs Robertson?” Sandra asked Frances, emphasizing the Mrs.

Frances beamed at her. “Because Reginald is not married to anyone!”

“But ... but ... you ladies are all Mrs Robertson, aren’t you? That is confusing.”

“Let me inform you, Sandra, about a little detail of our family: We are all known as Mrs Robertson, so that I am Mrs Frances Robertson, Erika is Mrs Erika Robertson, Freda is Mrs Freda Robertson, for the reason that these our our legal names, officially recorded by deed poll.”

“Deed poll? What is that, Frances?”

“A simple legal formality to allow you to change your name to something different. We discovered it when the university administration people refused to accept us calling ourselves Mrs Robertson without legal evidence of a marriage certificate. One of the staff let slip that a deed poll certificate was the only other acceptable evidence. We investigated and found that the new name could include an honorific, and as Mrs is an honorific, we added that to the name Robertson so I am legally Mrs Frances Robertson without being married.”