Page 75 of Not Exactly Mr. Darcy
They’d taken the hint and left to do their own work, Liam to deal with a tree branch that had fallen on a path, George to go paint the walls in the gift shop, which she’d taken on as her personal project. Which was exactly what needed to happen. People needed to take ownership of the Hall, to invest their goodwill as well as their time and efforts. She’d looked at the oh-so-tight budget Tim Grant, Liam’s accountant, had given her, and there was little room for much more. Even with all her pleading with family members for favours, now that she’d committed to paying for photographs and websites and domain names, things were getting real.
She contacted Drew and emailed him a contract, which—praise the Lord—he signed and returned straightaway. That meant they now owned the rights to these photos, so they could do what they liked with them. She rang a London-based printer that promised a super-speedy turnaround and spoke directly to a customer service representative who said if the postcard and leaflet designs were uploaded today they could be printed and shipped back on Thursday.
“Does that mean they’ll definitely arrive Thursday?”
“If you want a guarantee, then you might be better off collecting from our warehouse.” He told her an address in a borough she didn’t recognize.
“Thank you.”
That, of course, meant calling George and asking where exactly that was located.
“Oh, that’s near my flat in London.”
“You have a flat?” The farming business must do really well. London housing was some of the priciest in the world.
“For when I’m studying.”
Okay. She must’ve meant university accommodation. Fair enough.
“I’ll make some calls and see if we can get someone to pick it up,” George said. “We might as well save some pounds where we can.”
“Thank you.”
After uploading the postcard designs—the leaflets they’d print locally, once Ellie had sent back her Hartbury Hall estate map—she then contacted several drop-shipping companies, those that specialized in print-on-demand designs on a range of goods from tea towels to magnets, pens, and the like. It would be so easy to get carried away, but their budget didn’t allow for that. This was seed money, designed to help things grow; the prices charged would improve their bottom line by a little margin each time. They couldn’t waste their capital on items that would sit on shelves and collect dust. Or get chewed.
The rest of the day was spent working on the website, scheduling posts for Facebook and Instagram, using her own photos this time. Her photos might not have the fantastic resolution of Drew’s but still showcased parts of the Hall and grounds that might entice people to come visit. All in the warm and welcoming colours that Elinor had suggested.
The next few days passed in a similar way. Decisions, phone calls, budget woes, and meetings. Online meetings with Elinor, with Tim to talk accounts, then gathering with the other members of the organizing committee for their Thursday night meeting, to which Liv had invited Patricia to join for the first time.
The others had been surprised—okay, shocked—to have Patricia join them, but Liv figured somebody who might lose her job if the school closed would be invested and bound to have ideas. And yes, now that Liv thought about it, she probably should’ve consulted them, but what was done was done. She’d have to pray it went well.
Patricia might be on break, but she seemed energized by their plans, offering her own help with applying for grants among other things. “I can do some of the printing.” She glanced at Gran. “Veronica, I hope you won’t take offence, but some of the Hall’s explanation signs are looking a little frayed. I could redo them, laminate them, have them looking fresh.”
Liv held her breath. Some of the signs did look a little dated, being cutouts stuck to brightly coloured poster boards. It would be nice to have consistent branding across all their communications, signs included. But she knew Gran was very proud of the signs she and Cara had worked on many years ago.
Gran’s mouth pursed, and then she sighed. “I suppose we could.”
Liv silently exhaled, catching Liam’s half smile, as if he too had been wondering about the outcome between these two headstrong women.
“Thank you for offering to do that, Patricia,” Liv said. “We do have some colours and fonts we are using now, so it would be good to maintain that.”
Patricia nodded. “I’ll start work on it tonight.”
Which meant it would likely be another week or so before the signs would be ready. Oh well. Rome wasn’t built in a day.
“And it would be good for us to consider how we can personalize the rooms in some ways,” Liv said. “Perhaps we can set the dining table differently each season, or showcase the different crockery or cutlery.”
Her grandmother brightened at this. “I’ll talk it over with the other stewards and see what we can do.”
“I’ve got a parish council meeting starting soon,” Tobias said apologetically.
“Which means I do too,” various people murmured, shifting in their chairs. Looked like a small village ran on the backs of a few motivated people. Just like at home.
“But before you go, George, have you got your delivery?”
George grinned and placed the stack of cards on the table. “Hot off the press. I drove to Bicester today and collected these.” She passed around the two different designs of the postcards. “Don’t they look amazing?”
“You drove all that distance?” Patricia asked.
