Page 43 of Barging In
“I took particular painsnotto say it like that.”
“Victoria, I’m teasing you,” Clem said, nudging her gently.
“Oh.” A sheepish smile crossed Victoria’s lips as her gaze dropped.
“We need to stop reacting off each other; we’re not enemies. I don’t get up at six a.m. to bake for someone I don’t like. At most, we are adversaries. Or maybe… competitive friends. For what it’s worth, I don’t want this place to fail. I think it’s great. I’m sorry it’s not thriving — and if I’ve made things harder. I seem to cause you nothing but problems.”
“I don’t blame you. Even if my ex-catering manager does,” Victoria added with a wry smile. “Our problems go deeper than a bit of competition. You’re just the tipping point, it seems. A mix of bad winter weather and fading novelty with the locals haven’t left us in a great position. I should have been working here full-time when we opened.”
“Why weren’t you?” Clem asked, intrigued to know a little more about Victoria.
“I had big projects in London I couldn’t abandon. Some of them take years to complete, and I couldn’t walk away. I guess I’ve taken my eye off the ball. Or it was never on it to begin with.”
“But you’re here full-time now,” Clem saidreassuringly, knowing that showing up was a vital part of any successful business.
“Yes.”
“Then it’s onwards and upwards. You can’t change the past, but the future’s up for grabs. And you know, the novelty wearing off isn’t necessarily a bad thing.”
“How so?”
“It means theyknowyou exist. Now you need to find a way to lure them back.”
“That’s the problem,” Victoria sighed. “I don’t know how. I’m not a marketing whizz.”
“Well, that’s where you’re in luck — I am,” Clem said, her tone light but steady. “It’s not as daunting as it seems. You’ve already laid the groundwork; now you just need a few gentle nudges in the right direction.”
“I’d really appreciate that. I need bums on seats — and fast.”
Clem caught Victoria’s eye. “You have ideas when it comes to taking down the competition. At least, I assume the free hot drink offer was yours.”
Victoria looked away, but a smile edged her lips. “It was.”
“See? We’ll make a marketeer of you yet. If the winter season caused you problems, you need to take advantage of it next time — it’ll be here before you know it. Host a fireworks night or a Christmas market. The courtyard would be great for that. Don’t limit yourself to what’s already here. You’re more than a museum and a café. Think big! Honestly, Victoria, there’ssomuch potential here. Utilise the café space. You’ve got room to section off an area for groups. Encourage knitting circles, puzzle clubs, and the local WI. Get a book club in after hours, hold a quiz. I assume you have an alcohol license, so hirethe place out. That large car park on the other side of the building, is it only for the apartment owners?”
“No. They have reserved spaces, but the rest is for our visitors. And yes, we have a license,” Victoria confirmed.
“Then you’re set for meetings, parties, wakes, and even weddings. Collect email addresses in exchange for a free hot drink and start a newsletter. Offer loyalty cards. Get the kids in during the holidays with fun activities.” She drummed her fingers on the worktop before adding, “More urgently, you need to sort your social media out.”
Victoria nodded, brow furrowed in thought.
“The museum must be popular with schools,” Clem continued, finding herself in a flow of ideas she couldn’t — or didn’t want to, if she were honest — put the brakes on. “It’s a perfect place to combine the social history of corsetry with the industrial machine. How many groups visit? Have the University of the Third Agebeen? Retired people love somewhere to walk to, sobecomethat destination. Offer lunchtime deals, especially on pension day. If you don’t give people a reason to come?—”
“—then they won’t come,” Victoria finished with a nod.
“Exactly,” Clem said, almost out of breath but relieved Victoria was finally grasping the underlying issues here.
A small part of her was a little jealous of everything there was to do. She loved a project, particularly a marketing one, and the wharf was a worthwhile venture, bursting with potential.
“Is this your way of telling me I need more than a few corsets and cake to survive?” Victoria said, raising an eyebrow.
“Yes, it is,” Clem replied without hesitation. “And this may not be the right time to say it, but… I’ve started serving sausage rolls and cheese scones. Sorry.”
Victoria shrugged. “It’s a free world. That I do believe in. And you’ve given me food for thought on what I need to do — pun fully intended.”
Clem’s chest tightened as Victoria’s expression hovered between amusement and worry. She wanted to lift the burden from her shoulder, not pile more on.
“And there was me thinking you were just a baker,” Victoria said.
