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If you go down to the woods today - you'll see bluebells!

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Previously in A Chequered Career…….. I settled back with my family Winchester……. My new job took me daily fifteen miles up the M3 to Basingstoke……. My task was to look after existing company car buyers and to seek out and explore new avenues…….. I got to fly to Edinburgh now and again to wine and dine their buyer……... Twice a year I gave my customers treats  from sailing yachts in the Solent to paintballing, and my favourite, flying lessons in Cessna light aircraft……. My goodness, how I enjoyed that job!

CHAPTER 14  - MUD AND TEARS

 

If our customers could have seen where we kept our stock of new Citroens they would probably have been shocked! We rented a field on a farm in a village just outside Basingstoke and about a hundred or so cars sat there exposed to the elements. Some cars in less than popular colours or specifications could sit there for a year or more. A regular task for our bodywork shop was to re-spray roofs and bonnets of sold of cars where bird droppings had eaten away at the paint. We also had problems with mice who liked nothing more than setting up home in the cardboard air filters which they shredded to make into desirable residences! Weeds and grass sometimes clambered over engines and grew through radiator grills. And then there was the mud! We regularly had to fetch the farmer and his tractor to tow an embedded car out of the field and onto the road.

By 1994 computers were becoming an essential part of every business. Everything we did from ordering our cars for stock to working out finance deals  for our customers was done with the tap on  the keyboard. Microsoft was working away in the background building up to the launch of their hugely successful Windows 95 system. We were one of a handful of companies in the UK given the chance to trial it before it went public.  My son Timothy was heavily into the new technology, so when I heard that we were about to appoint a computer specialist within the group, I put his name forward and in no time at all he was on the staff! Every time a salesman or an admin assistant found themselves with a sudden blank screen or a seemingly impossible action they called Tim! This experience at such a young age provided him with a perfect springboard for a career in computing. When Windows 95 was launched he was hot property, and he’s never looked back having worked with several major corporations, and today for Microsoft themselves.

Suddenly and without warning we were informed that Hadley Garages had been sold to an Irish company, Whichford Motors. I can still see the look of shock and disbelief on my colleague’s faces as they took in what we had just been told. And it got worse, because the new owners were to bring in their own staff to take over key rolls from managing director Barry downwards. My position was also to be a casualty of the cull. It’s was at times like that I was grateful for friends in influential places, and on the very day I learned I was to be leaving I got myself a job with a Citroen dealer in Bournemouth.

The day in June 1997 when I left Hadley’s was one I’ll never forget. I was only to work the morning. I was

called from my office into the Citroen showroom where the sales team gathered around me to wish me luck and bid me farewell. I was handed a beautifully wrapped present. They insisted I opened it then and there, and to my surprise and delight I found inside two crystal gasses, one for wine, another for whisky, each of the engraved with words ‘Good Luck from all at Hadley’s’ and the iconic Citroen logo. I didn't realise how popular I had been!

Throughout my time at Hadley’s I’d enjoyed what I believe is referred to as a special relationship with my admin assistant Julie. It was of course purely professional, but there always was something of a spark between us; something unspoken and resisted. I can’t remember whose idea it was but on that final day we went to a country pub together for lunch. On the way back everything poured out. She became extremely angry with me for holding back all those years. To this day I don’t think I've ever seen anybody so distressed. I often wonder how differently my life would have panned out if I had followed my heart rather than my head during my time there.  Anyway, I dropped her back at the Garage and never saw or heard from her again.

I started my new job in Bournemouth. One of my fellow salesmen was one Henry Jackson, a chap I’d worked with many years before back at Westfield Garages. He was not happy there and he wished me luck; he said I would need it. It was a tiny, miserable little garage and I felt like a fish out of water. I had only been there a month before I was told it had gone bankrupt. Time to call on my contacts again! I did exactly that, and the sun peeped out from behind the black cloud that had hidden it for the past few weeks.

To be continued 

Chapters  1   2   3   4   5   6   7    8   9   10   11   12   13

Sargent Charlie's Casebook

Written for Sunday Scribblings and Carry On Tuesday

Little Charlie Sargent was one of the most popular boys in school. Mainly because he was very good at solving crimes. His friends turned his name around and called him Sargent Charlie! The other day someone took Sally’s pen. Sargent Charlie found the culprit in no time. “It was naughty Nick that nicked it” he said.  “Nick the Nick - you are nicked”.

One playtime a very serious crime indeed was committed. Joanne’s bag of M&M’s disappeared. Well, it was actually half a bag, but it was still a serious matter. First he had to visit the crime scene. It had happened when Joanne was sitting on a bench in the playground. The bag of M&M’s was beside her. Patrick was also on the bench, and Nigel was sitting cross legged on the ground in front of her. Somebody, she thought it was Jason, shouted quite loudly behind Joanne, and she turned around to see was happening. When she turned back her bag of sweets had gone, and little Polly Perkins was rushing past. This was case for Sargent Charlie, and everybody knew that come what may, he would bring the offender to justice.

“Right” said Sargent Charlie pinching his chin the way detectives do on television, this is a darstab....darsten...."

"Dastardly Sarge" said Joanne

"Yes, a dastardly crime" said Sargent Charlie. “We have three suspects; Patrick, Polly Perkins and Nigel. Plus Jason because he caused a distric….disrtoc…”

“Distraction Sarge” said Joanne. 

“Yes, a distraction” said Sargent Charlie. “So he might have been a conprit…consirup….”.

“Conspirator Sarge” said Joanne.

 “Yes, a conspirator” said Sargent Charlie. He thought for a moment. His deputies stood around him in silence waiting for him to come up with a master plan.

“Right” he said “This is what I’ll do. I’ll gather up the suspects”. He soon found them all. “Come with me” he said. They just stood there looking sheepish. “Come along” he said a bit more firmly. They obeyed. He stood them in a line. “Hold out your hands and stick out your tongues” he said. Then he slowly walked along the line-up with his hands behind his back. “Polly Perkins, step forward. Jason step forward.  Patrick and Nigel you are free to leave. Polly Perkins, you are under arrest for taking Joannes M&M’s and Jason you are under arrest for being a conspit…comspiro...helper.

“How did you know? “spluttered Polly Perkins.

“Elimentat…ellimintica…”

”Elementary Sarge” said Joanne. 

“Yes, elementary” said Sargent Charlie. “Your fingers are stained and your tongues are a funny colour” he said. “Your punishment will be to do Joanne’s arithmetic homework for her tonight”.

Another case solved for Sargent Charlie. 

Linked to Sunday Scribblings

Previously in A Chequered Career …. I had travelled in the footsteps of William the Conqueror!...... when we put on a fashion show would-be models of various shapes and sizes would totter along a plank wearing creations from a local dress shop…….. One thing led to another, and we thought damn it, let’s give it another try! It was decided I should move to Winchester…….. I was interviewed not just by the dealer but also by Citroen themselves as they were to make a contribution to the very generous salary on offer. It was clearly meant to be, and a couple of weeks later I waved goodbye to Westfield Citroen and started a whole new chapter of my varied life.

CHAPTER 13  -  DOUGHNUT CITY!

The year was 1993. I was settled back with my family in a house on a sprawling estate on the edge of Winchester. My new job took me daily fifteen miles up the M3 to Basingstoke. Basingstoke's claim to fame is its forty roundabouts which are dotted at frequent intervals along its roads. Doughnut City they call it. Taxi drivers always complain that they get through a disproportionate number of front nearside tyres! Hadley 

Garages was a collection of individual showrooms and workshops dotted across an eight acre site alongside roundabout 37 or was it 38? Rover in one, Peugeot in another; Toyota and Citroen in their own. We also had a facility which stretched cars and turned them into mobile gin palaces, or bullet proof vehicles of state. And then there was the Fleet Sales Office and that was my place other work apart from my desk in the showroom. It was a somewhat uninspiring space with tiny windows and very little daylight. I shared it with a guy called Ian Abraham who was my opposite number selling Rover cars to company buyers. And then there was the lovely Julie who looked after all my admin. Our managing director was a large and imposing if rather quiet character called Barry Oakhill. Provided we did our jobs properly we had very little to do with him. My task was to look after existing company car buyers and to seek out and explore new avenues. We also had one of new-fangled mobile phones which we shared. It was a monster of a thing which consisted of a huge battery atop which sat the instrument itself attached by a curly wire. It was great just to take out into the streets of the town and pose as if making a call even if you weren't!

Hadleys was very keen on training and made full use of Citroens' training facility at their head office in Slough. I went there on many occasions and took part in interactive sessions on 'Selling the benefits', 'Closing the sale' and the 'Art of selling'. There was lots of role play, quick fire questioning and written tests. On one occasion we were required to sit in an office with a trainer on a one to one basis and close a sale whilst the whole thing was videoed. Afterwards we watched, as a group, everybody's efforts and discussed them openly. I had a streaming cold on the day and thought I'd made a complete mess of it, but surprise surprise, I got a round of applause from our group and my video went on to be shown to future classes as an example of how it should be done!  

I love a job with perks and this certainly had its fare share. For a start my largest customer was a company

called Standard Life. As their name suggests, they are providers of Insurance. Their headquarters was situated some distance away from me; Edinburgh in Scotland to be precise and one of the bonuses of the job was that I got to fly to that magnificent city now and again to wine and dine their buyer. He was probably my best customer and I fed him a steady stream of Citroen ZX’s all in bright red. And that wasn’t the only perk

of the job. Twice a year I had to select four of five customers and thank them by giving them a treat! Also, I got to choose which treat to take them on from a list of events and adventures provided by Citroen. They varied from sailing yachts in the Solent to paint-balling  and my favourite, flying lessons in Cessna light aircraft. We also held extravagant Fleet events whenever we had a new car to launch. These we held at nearby Highclere Castle, a venue now recognised world-wide as the setting for Downton Abbey. One such event, a three-dayer was hosted for us by Jeremy Clarkson and Quentin Wilson of Top Gear fame.

And then there was the launch of Citroen’s little Saxo model. Dealers from all over the country were invited to Birmingham to watch a lavish show hosted by Jonathan Ross. Eight cars, one in each of the colours

available appeared on stage either from the wings, from behind the audience or down from the ceiling. Each car had several dancing girls in colour-coordinated flowing satin gowns accompanying it. The whole thing was accompanied by the saxophone band, The Fairer Sax! As it drew to a close, the wall to one side of the auditorium swept back and the chandeliers came alive to reveal a French style restaurant. There were dozens of round tables and at the centre of each was a flower arrangement topped off by a saxophone.  My colleagues and I found ourselves sharing a table with Mr Ross himself. Whilst we eating, a fashion show took place. And that wasn't the end of it, because just after the boss of Citroen had made a little speech and wished us farewell, another wall slid back, and this time it had behind it an enormous crescent of Citroen Saxos, headlights blazing! Each dealer was to take one each back to their garage in readiness for the public launch a few days later; I drove home in N 53 SAX! It's funny that as many details of my past begin to get fuzzy, car registration numbers somehow stick in my head! It's the shame that my talent couldn't have been channelled to something more useful!

My goodness, I was really enjoying my job!

To be continued

Chapters  1   2   3   4   5   6   7    8   9   10   11   12  > 14  

The end of the day

Linked to Wordless Wednesday

Eastbourne beach at sun-down       click on pic to enlarge!

 Linked to Sunday Scribblings prompt 'Resistant'

Previously in A Chequered Career… I can still hear a voice calling “déjeuner mon ami”; time for lunch, then crossing the street with my bosses and colleagues to a blue shaded bistro…... I was employed by a family with an uncanny resemblance to the Ewing’s of Dynasty fame…… the little cherubs would rush around shrieking, and planting sticky hand prints on my pristine motor cars. It was so sad when they suddenly and unexpectedly tripped over our feet!........ I used to sit at my desk looking out across the road to the sea wishing I was still on the opposite shore in ‘La Belle France’………I was so, so bored.

CHAPTER 12  -  A HUNDRED MILES AWAY SOMETHING WAS CALLING ME!

It occurred to me that I had in recent years travelled in the footsteps of William the Conqueror! I had left Normandy and was living a little bungalow in the ancient town of Battle which was where the Battle of Hastings took place in 1066. ‘Willy the Conk’ made a great success of his journey, so why hadn’t I?

Although life at Westfield Citroen was pretty dull, it did have its lighter moments. When I drew the short

straw and found myself working alone in the little St Leonards showroom on a Sunday, I invariably had a visitor for coffee to brighten up my morning. The politician, social reformer and, some would say, infamous Lord Longford lived close by. He used to take his poodle for a stroll on Sunday mornings and I was on his route. At first he used just to smile and raise his hand, but one day I was standing in the doorway and we got chatting. After that he regularly came inside and shared a mug of instant! He had of course led a crusade for penal reform for many years, and he instituted an unpopular and unsuccessful campaign to secure the release of the Moors child murder Myra Hindley. Keen not to get into any kind of political or moral debate with him, I tended just to chat about the weather and last night’s TV!

We managed to breathe some life into the main Bexhill showroom once a year too, when we put on a fashion show. We would construct a catwalk between the cars and would-be models of various shapes and sizes would totter down the plank wearing creations from a local dress shop! This was all done to the accompaniment of screeching music from a cassette player, whilst along one wall I would run a buffet comprising cheeses various, cold meats assorted, and things wrapped in pastry. We would add a few bottles of dodgy wine and we all had a jolly good time!

Bexhill’s main claim to fame, well second I suppose as the art décor De La Warr Pavilion is its main

attraction, is that it is the official birthplace of British motor racing. It was in 1902 that the first car race in the country took place and it has been an annual event ever since. Nowadays vintage cars are raced in attempt to recreate the days of old, and because of Westfield Citroen’s location at the far end of the promenade/race track, our workshops and part of our

showroom were used to safely store the magnificent machines during the race weekend. To be up close, to touch and to smell so many of these legendary cars all in one place was inspirational. One year Chitty Chitty Bang Bang was in our possession for several nights. Fantastic! A few days earlier it had come to prominence in the media because Michael Jackson had tried unsuccessfully to buy it ‘at any price’! I knew where the keys were; if only I’d had Michael Jackson’s phone number things could have been very different!

It was the year of our Lord 1993. I was living alone and doing a job which was wearisome, monotonous and mind-numbing. I had kept in touch with my first wife Sarah, mainly in order to arrange and carry out visits to me by my children. Some years back she had met someone with whom she had moved in and become a family. A change in job meant they had to up-sticks and move a hundred miles away to Winchester. However, she like me had found herself on her own again, and we started meeting for the occasional drink in a pub at the half way point near Arundel. One thing led to another, and we thought damn it, let’s give it another try! It was decided I should move to Winchester. There was however an obstacle in the way. I in no way relished the thought of a two hundred mile round trip each day to work and back.  And then as if by magic, I heard via the Citroen area manager that they were seeking a salesman to set up and run a fleet sales centre within one of their dealerships in Basingstoke. The job entailed selling cars in quantities to companies from an office just thirty minutes from my proposed new home! I simply could not resist it! 

I was interviewed not just by the dealer, Hadley Garages, but also by Citroen themselves as they were to make a contribution to the very generous salary on offer.   

However there was still one other problem which needed solving. Our dear son Timothy was not happy with us moving in together in an unmarried state. And so we did it. Sarah and I got married all over again! Everything fell into place; I waved goodbye to Westfield Citroen and said hello a whole new chapter in my topsy-turvey life

To be continued

Chapters  1   2   3   4   5   6   7    8   9   10   11  >  13

Once upon a time......

Some of my regular visitors (like you Oldegg!) may feel they've read this before. Well, you are right; I wrote it a couple of years ago, and here it is again!

Once upon a time there was a little girl called Felicia who dreamed of being a fairy.  A picture of innocence. A little pointy pink dress of satin and lace. Wrinkled sparkly white leggings and silver ballet shoes. A garland sitting lop-sided on top of a stack of golden hair. Her arms flying this way and that as she struggled to put on a pair of translucent wings.

Wriggling from side to side she heaved up her leggings then straightened her headgear. She picked up her wand, adjusted the glittery star on the end, and she was ready to go! “There are spells to perform, happiness to give out and wishes to grant!” she called.

Falicia the fairy tip-toed out into fairyland. Thomas the ginger tom casted a wary glance in her direction as she tottered across the lawn toward him. He sat  unconcerned as she tapped him gently on the head with her wand, then bent  to stroke his sun-warmed glossy back.

Little Freddy pulled a quizzical face as a fairy which looked very much like his sister, wandered over to his play pen. She reached into her pocket and scattered a handful of glitter over his head. Freddy cried. Felicia wandered off in search of a more appreciative audience. She was certain that when she grew up she would become a real fairy and then he wouldn't cry.

Twenty years have passed and Felicia is ‘something in the city’. She is successful. People come to her with their dreams of wealth and she grants their wishes. Her stardust is now signatures on share documents. Her fairy land is the stock exchange.

But in those quiet moments she is still that little pink fairy from her childhood; in those quiet moments when she drifts away and imagines herself flitting from flower to flower in a magic garden. When she sleeps she wears a smile as she swings from a rainbow and plays ring-a-ring-a-roses with the butterflies.

But she knows it will never be. She tells herself she was stupid to have ever believed it. The kids that teased her were right.

A tiny fairy hovered outside her office window. Felicia turned her head, smiled. It darted off and a dozen pink rose petals floated down from the sky.

Linked to Carry On Tuesday