Chapter 14

Sally was as good as her word. She had a rehearsal with the LPO on Tuesday evening and presented Nick on Wednesday morning with a brochure and a contact telephone number.

"There is an entry test," she said. "First of all whether you can sing in tune and second, your sight-reading ability. I gather that's in stages. You know: all one key without any sharps or flats and all crotchets. Then they test you on change of key and timing."

"So much easier when the choir's changing key as well," interjected Nick.

Sally nodded. "Next is simple runs: whether you can see the pattern and repeat it and then spot when it leads into something else with a slight change."

"Like 'Messiah': 'For Unto Us A Child Is Born'."

Sally looked at him questioningly and he sang the bit in question.

She nodded delightedly. "You'll walk it."

"Wait and see."

He did go and he did walk it. That meant Wednesday and Friday evenings were booked. To Sally's chagrin her rehearsal evenings were Tuesday and Thursday. However, her luck changed when there were joint rehearsals for Haydn's Seasons in October. For the three weeks before it choir and orchestra were together on Tuesdays and Fridays. She and Nick gravitated towards each other during the breaks and she was thrilled. She was even more thrilled when he invited her to have a meal with him after the fourth rehearsal.

Nick was not at all sure that he had done the right thing. As a result he was reserved and not very talkative. Sally did not mind. She did not wonder why. She was just happy to be with him. Nick did not repeat the invitation but was still happy to chat to her during breaks in rehearsals.

It was about this time that he realised that he could not use his single status not to entertain. There were potential local customers. There were his senior staff. He also wanted to invite Peter Holdsworth and his wife to visit. He felt too that he ought to invite his opposite number at Manchester. The problem was cost. He had been prepared to foot any hotel bill that the company was unwilling to meet but he could not afford to spend his own money on entertaining on behalf of the firm. He went to see Norman.

"I've got to do some entertaining," he said baldly.

"Intimate candle lit tête-à-têtes?" asked Norman his eyes twinkling.

"No!" snorted Nick. "Dinner parties for potential clients chiefly. I ought also to have senior members of staff to dinner too."

"Can you cook?"

"No."

"So who's going to?"

"I'll have to get caterers in."

"Expensive."

"Yes. That's why I'm here."

Norman eyed him shrewdly. "If we were making really decent money you would expect your expenses to be paid but we aren't. On the other hand, you would be inviting potential clients in the hope of making really decent money so it's hardly fair for you to cough up personally."

"In a nutshell."

"Have you got any savings?"

"Yes but they're all invested."

"And if the company was to repay you what you've spent come really decent money time you'd have lost out on dividends."

"Yes."

"What if we were to track your investments and pay you back the dividends you would have received as well?"

"Could you do that?"

"Yes and without detriment to our main work."

"Thanks, Norman. I think that's the answer." He smiled. "Now I've got a further incentive to make Marshall of Liverpool a success."

Norman's lips twitched. "Oh, there's method in my madness, you know. Now, don't go rushing off engaging caterers. I'll talk to Annelise this evening. She may be able to recommend someone who's good and comparatively inexpensive. I suggest you have a word with your Megan as well. She's a fount of much local knowledge."

"Thanks again, Norman. I'll do that too."

Megan did not have an immediate answer. "It's not something I've ever had to deal with," she said, "but leave it with me for forty-eight hours and I'll see what I can come up with."

Annelise had no ideas but said she would ask around. Two days later though Megan greeted Nick with a happy and triumphant smile. "I think I've found some caterers," she announced.

"Bring your coffee in with mine and tell me."

She did so a few minutes later. "It's a set-up called Domestic Damsels," she said. "There's an allied one called Decorating Damsels. It started in Yorkshire back in the Fifties with a bunch of orphan girls doing decorating. They then branched out into cleaning and catering. It was a huge success and they spread throughout the south of Yorkshire and then into Cheshire and Lancashire. The majority of the girls are still orphans. Apparently they're very good and charge well below normal prices. I've got the name and phone number of the woman who runs their Liverpool outfit. Would you like me to give her a ring?"

"How did you find them?"

"I've got a friend who's a PA and her boss's wife has refused to cook for big dinner parties. They use these Damsels and are very pleased with them."

"OK, let's sound them out."

A few days later Megan showed in a pretty, young woman aged about twenty-five wearing clean but inexpensive clothes.

"This is Mrs Gemma Norton," said Megan. "She runs the Liverpool branch of Domestic Damsels."

Nick shook her hand. "Nick Braithwaite," he said with a smile, "and I run this lot. Come and sit down. Would you like some coffee or a cup of tea?"

"I'd love a cup of tea." Gemma spoke with a strong Liverpudlian accent.

Megan disappeared.

"Tell me about Domestic Damsels," said Nick. "All I know is that they do a good job at a reasonable price and that to start with fifty years ago were all orphans."

"Most still are. We take on sixteen year-old girls, provide them with accommodation and then employ them as painters and decorators (which is how Damsels started), gardeners, cleaners and cooks. Anyone can act as a waitress for the functions we cater for. We pay them the statutory minimum wage for eighteen year-olds plus ten percent. At the age of twenty they leave us unless they join the admin staff but there aren't many of them. Here there's me who gaffers the lot and specialises in catering, there's another who runs the painting, one who runs the cleaning and gardening and we also have an accountant."

"Golly!" exclaimed Nick. "You do run it on a shoe string."

"That's why we can keep our prices so low. When we give an estimate it's done at cost price and then we add another ten percent to cover overheads, such as the admin people's pay, the upkeep of the accommodation and our three vans."

"That really is thrifty. Does the ten per cent really cover those overheads though?"

"Just about. Now and again though we get a donation which helps."

Nick nodded. He was not going to be able to offer anything at the moment.

Megan brought in their drinks.

"I think you'd better stay, Megan," said Nick. "I'm liable to get out of my depth."

Megan smiled and sat down with them. She shook her head when Nick looked enquiringly at her. "Just had one," she said softly.

"Well now, Mr Braithwaite," Gemma went on, "Megan told me you'd like us to do some dinner parties for you."

"Yes. I'm not sure how many yet but there would only be eight sitting down. My dining room table won't take any more."

"OK, let me show you some menus and prices."

She handed each of them two menus which they both studied and then exchanged.

"They all look good to me," said Nick.

"I'd avoid the spicy one," said Megan. "Some people can't cope with anything hot tasting. If I were you I'd have the coq au vin for the first one."

"OK. What about the starter? I love smoked salmon."