Page 36 of The Importance of Being Emma
As I flicked through my copy one last time, I spotted that she’d spelt ‘Highbury’ as ‘Highbary’ on one of the slides.
‘Slide ten,’ — I waved the page in front of her — ‘just change the “a” to a “u” on the disk version, please, and reprint it for the packs, then bring everything along to the boardroom.’
And I’d left her to get on with it, otherwise I would have been late. After my little mishap at the last Board meeting and Mark’s reprimand about checking my work thoroughly, I was determined today would go perfectly. Or as perfectly as it could, given the bruised ego of the Finance Director.
At last Harriet came in and Dad started the meeting. I contributed very little to the discussions around the directors’ reports and kept especially quiet during Philip’s. Then it was my turn. I switched on the projector, took the disk from Harriet and inserted it into my laptop. The information packs would keep until the end; I didn’t want any distractions from my pitch.
It started off well. The first nine slides were a summary of my research proposal for repositioning Betty’s Best as Harriet’s Secret Recipes. I stressed the requirement for some early primary research, using a concept board approach with focus groups of customers and non-customers. I explained that I wanted to do as much as possible in-house rather than use agencies, to minimise cost. I mentioned the need for an initial strapline, but didn’t refer to Philip’s suggestion. Finally, I circulated a sample concept board, featuring a scenario of Harriet planning an informal lunch for her girlfriends, and showed how it would be used in the focus groups.
There were murmurs of approval round the table, with one exception.
Philip gave me a nasty look before turning to Dad. ‘As I’ve already said, Henry, we’re going to have to cut back on expenditure and this proposal’s the sort of amateurish initiative that we may have to drop completely.’
‘I take your point,’ Dad said mildly, ‘but at the moment Emma’s well within the outline budget you agreed with her. If we have to cut back, there may be more obvious savings to be made in other areas.’ His tone became sharp. ‘And the word “amateurish” seems rather harsh. Mark, do you think we need some professional agency input here?’
‘Not vital at this stage, and certainly not if you want to keep within such a modest research budget.’ Mark paused and fixed his gaze on Philip. ‘I think Emma’s practical, low-cost approachis ideal for the circumstances and I’m surprised the Finance Director isn’t being more supportive.’
Philip flushed and looked down at his papers. I decided to wrap up my presentation as quickly as possible.
‘OK, I just wanted to talk briefly about Christmas.’ I held up my hand as Jon started muttering about his production schedule. ‘Not this year’s, which I know we planned months ago, but next year’s. This is a simple idea that our competitors are already doing and it doesn’t involve any major production changes.’ I clicked onto slide ten. ‘Introducing—’
I broke off in dismay. Harriet had certainly changed the ‘a’ to a ‘u’; trouble was, she’d done it in the wrong word. Instead of ‘The Highbury Hamper’, the slide read ‘The Highbary Humper’.
My cheeks burned. I closed my eyes, but I couldn’t shut out the howls of laughter from Jon and Terry, or Philip’s angry exclamations. Of course, he’d think this was a dig at his behaviour on Saturday night, even a deliberate attempt to expose him . . .
I opened my eyes and looked straight at Mark. His expression was blank, but I knew he was disappointed in me.
‘It was a last-minute change,’ I said in a small voice. ‘I know I should have checked it, but I didn’t.’
Harriet added, with a loud sniff, ‘It’s my fault really, I was in too much of a rush.’
‘What’s a humper?’ Batty asked brightly.
Silence. Then Dad swallowed and said, ‘I believe the expression “to hump” means to, um, have sexual intercourse.’
Philip puffed himself up like a bullfrog. ‘You see, Henry, I know she’s your daughter but this is what I mean by amateurish, she’s lowering the tone of the Board meeting. And I can assure you there’s no such person as the Highbury Humper, it’s all in her overactive imagination!’
I stared at him, unable to believe my ears. This was totally unprofessional, a personal attack. And how could I defend myself without revealing what was behind it?
‘I’m sure there are as many humpers in Highbury as anywhere else,’ Mark said drily. ‘Anyway, this was obviously meant to say “The Highbury Hamper”. A typo, that’s all. Easily done, Harriet, especially when you’re not feeling well. It sounds like a great idea, Emma — why don’t you tell us what you had in mind?’
I gave him a wan smile and moved on to the next slide, a list of the products I envisaged for the hamper, followed by the seasonal distribution channels I’d researched in addition to our usual outlets. I dealt with Jon’s questions and provided additional facts and figures to Mark and Terry, all with a confidence I certainly didn’t feel.
Because I was already visualising the damage a resentful Philip could do to my credibility at Highbury Foods. And there was only one person I could turn to for help: The Tormentor.
* * *
~~MARK~~
After the Board meeting, I went to find Emma. She wasn’t in her room, however, or with Henry; so I returned to Donwell Organics where it seemed everyone had been storing up their problems for me.
I left the office promptly at five, to make sure the house would be warm when Tamara returned from her shopping trip in London. As I finished lighting the fire in the drawing room, the doorbell rang. I knew it wasn’t Tamara; she had a key and, anyway, she’d only just phoned to say she was at the station, waiting for a taxi to Donwell.
It was Emma, still in her work clothes, the same beige suit she’d had on when I found her in the boardroom that September morning — the first time I saw her as Emma, not Mouse . . .
‘Er, come in,’ I said. ‘Tamara’s not here, but she’ll be back any moment.’ I was warning myself as much as telling her.
‘I’m not staying.’ She paused. ‘I wouldn’t have come, except I couldn’t get you on your mobile—’
