to touch base, as you’ve just taken over from Miss Lennox?’
‘I’m afraid it’s a little more than that. May I offer you some coffee?’
Funny how that sounded more like, ‘You’re going to need a stiff gin.’
‘Thanks, but I’m fine,’ she said. ‘So how can I help?’
‘I’ve been going through your published accounts,’ James said.
Uh-oh. She’d heard that from someone else, very recently. And that hadn’t been a good meeting, either.
‘I need to be frank with you, Miss McKenzie. We’re really not happy with the way things are going. We’re not sure you’re going to be able to pay back your overdraft.’
‘I can reassure you that I have a deal in the pipeline,’ she said. ‘Obviously I’m telling you this in strictest business confidence, because you’re my bank manager, but Triffid Studios is sending me a contract because they want to use our new design in their next Spyline film. Once the film comes out and people see the car, our waiting list will be full for at least the next year. We’ll have to expand to meet demand.’
‘And you’ve signed this contract?’
‘I’m still waiting for them to send it. The film industry seems to drag its heels a bit where paperwork’s concerned,’ she admitted. ‘But we’ve built the prototype, tweaked it and they’re happy with it, so it’s really just a formality.’ She just wished they’d hurry up with the paperwork.
‘I’d be much happier if I could see that signed contract,’ James said.
So would she.
‘Because,’ he continued, ‘I’m afraid I can’t extend your overdraft any more.’
‘You’re calling it all back in? Right now?’ Angel went cold. She had no idea where she’d get the money to pay back the overdraft. Even if she could negotiate a breathing space before it had to be paid back, and put her house on the market so it was priced to sell, she still wouldn’t make that much money once she’d cleared the mortgage. Nowhere near enough to prop up McKenzie’s. And, unlike her father in the last recession, she didn’t have a valuable private car collection to sell.
So how else could she raise the money?
‘I’ll give you a month to get that contract signed,’ James said. ‘And then I’m afraid I’ll have to call the majority of the overdraft in. In these times, banks have to be seen to lend responsibly.’
And businesses like hers that were going through temporary difficulties—despite being good clients for decades—ended up as the scapegoats. ‘I see. Well, thank you for your frankness, Mr Saunders.’
‘I’m sorry I can’t give you better news.’
To his credit, he did look a little bit sorry. Or maybe that was how bank managers were trained nowadays, Angel thought. Though he didn’t look quite old enough to manage a bank.
‘I’ll keep you posted on the contract development,’ she said.
Her next stop was at her lawyer’s, to see if they could get in contact with Triffid’s lawyers and persuade them to firm up a date by when they’d have the contract.
She brooded all the way back to the factory. There had to be a way out of this. The last thing she wanted to do was worry her father or burden him with her problems. He’d trusted her to run the company, and she wasn’t going to let him down.
If her parents rang in the next couple of days she’d either miss the call deliberately and blame it on her deafness—she’d been in the shower and hadn’t heard the phone ring—or she’d distract her father by talking car design. It was the way she dealt with the shyness that had dogged her since childhood: switching the conversation to cars, engines or business, where she was confident in her abilities, meant she didn’t have to worry about the personal stuff.
But she was really worried about this.
If the bank called in their loan before the contract was signed...
She’d just have to be more persuasive. She could put a presentation together quickly enough, with sales projections, based on the new Frost. Though she had a nasty feeling that only the signed contract would be enough to satisfy James Saunders.
The more she thought about it, the more she wondered if she should’ve taken up Brandon Stone’s offer after all. He’d said that every job at McKenzie’s would be safe. He’d implied that they’d keep the McKenzie name on the road cars. He’d even offered her a job, heading up his research and development team, though it wasn’t a part of the offer she could bring herself accept. Selling to him was probably the best thing she could do for everyone else.
But how could she live with herself if she threw away seventy years of her family’s history and sold out to the company started by her grandfather’s ex-best friend?
There had to be another way, beyond selling the company to Brandon Stone.
Plus there was something else she needed to address. Cambridge was a reasonably small city; if anyone had seen her with Brandon the other day and realised who he was, rumours could start circulating. The last thing she wanted was for her team to be unsettled. She needed everyone to pull together.
When she got back to the office, she called a team meeting on the factory floor. Everyone looked anxious, and she knew why. ‘First of all,’ she said, ‘I want to reassure everyone that it’s business as usual. Things are a bit slow, right now, but once that new contract’s signed and the PR starts, it’s going to pick up and the bank will be happy again.’
‘Do you want us to go on short time?’ Ravi, one of the engineers, asked.
It would be another solution, but Angel didn’t think it was fair for her staff to bear the brunt of the company’s problems. ‘No. We’ll manage,’ she said firmly. ‘The other thing is that Stone’s has offered to buy us out.’
There was a general gasp. Ernie, the oldest member of her team, stood up. ‘It might not be my place to say this, but I hope you said no. I worked for your grandfather. No way could I work for a Stone. They don’t do things like we do.’
‘I heard their staff’s all on zero-hours contracts,’ someone else said. ‘I can’t take that risk. I’ve got a mortgage and kids.’
‘I can’t comment on how they run their business,’ Angel said, ‘but I’m not selling. McKenzie’s will continue to do things the way we always do things. The only change is that we’ll be producing a new model, and I know I can trust you to keep everything under wraps.’
‘What can we do to help?’ Jane, one of the leather cutters, asked.
She smiled. ‘Just keep doing what you do. Make our cars the best they can be—and leave the worrying to me. I just wanted you all to know what was going on and hear the truth from me. If anyone hears any rumours to the contrary, they’re probably not true, so come and talk to me rather than panic, OK?’
‘If things are tight,’ Ernie said, ‘you could always use our pension fund to plug the gap.’
‘That’s a nice offer,’ she said, ‘but using that money for anything except your pensions would get me slung straight into jail. And I’m not asking any of you to take any kind of risk.’
‘I’ve got savings,’ Jane said.
‘Me, too,’ Ravi said. ‘We could invest in the company.’
It warmed Angel that her team trusted her that much. ‘It’s not going to come to that, but thank you for offering. It’s good to know that my team believes in me. Well, you’re not just my team. You’re family.’
‘Your grandad would be proud of you, lass,’ Ernie said. ‘Your dad, too. You’re a McKenzie through and through.’
Tears