Chapter Five
Kit was glad to get back to his office and close the door behind him. The sweet smell which pervaded the factory floor was making him feel nauseous—although, if he was being really honest, he didn't think that was the only cause. He sank into his chair and put his head in his hands. Hell, it was worse than he'd suspected. Touring the factory with one of the foremen, he'd been made very much aware of how many lines were given over entirely to LuvRocks products.
So much so, it had been a welcome relief to find a section of the factory that was churning out Carroll's own brand of chocolates, and when he reached the line working on their sticks of seaside rock, he could have wept. That was the Carroll's Confectionary he remembered. What the hell had gone so wrong?
He wrenched the tie from around his neck, unfastened the top button of his shirt, and loosened his collar.
Thank God for that.
Wearing a suit and tie made him feel constricted. He was so used to T-shirts and jeans that he felt awkward and uncomfortable in such formal wear. He'd toyed with the idea of wearing his usual clothes to work, but had reluctantly concluded that Carroll's needed him to be the sensible corporate boss. He had a responsibility to the company, and if that meant buttoning himself into a starchy shirt, smart suit, and tie, so be it. Right now, though, he needed to breathe.
"Good morning, Mr Carroll." Colin Henry's voice was surprisingly calm, when Kit finally plucked up the courage to ring him. No point putting things off any longer. No doubt he'd been expecting his call.
"Kit." How many more times?
"Kit. So, is it as bad as you feared?"
"Worse. I don't understand how Jack could have been so stupid. They haven't paid us in months. Why keep supplying them? How could he have been so gullible?"
"I think Jack thought he had little option. He was in too deep. Besides, he wasn't the only one, was he? Bayford's are in it up to their neck. Why else do you think they applied for the winding-up petition?"
"At least they had the guts to do it. Looks like Jack just turned a blind eye."
"I suppose he's had other things on his mind."
"I know, I know." Kit bit his lip, feeling a wave of guilt. It wasn't Jack's fault. He'd done his best, and Kit should have been there a lot sooner to take the burden from him. If he hadn't been so selfish, maybe things wouldn't have got this bad. "So, what will happen next?"
"We wait for the court hearing. According to The Gazette, it's next week. After that, we'll be in a better position to judge what's really happening."
"Will it go into administration?"
There was a definite hesitation. "Depends if there's any hope of salvaging the company. Though, from what my contacts have told me, that seems unlikely. If that's the case, Halliwell & Stephenson's will go into liquidation, and that will be the end of LuvRocks."
And possibly the end of Carroll's. Kit almost said it out loud, but couldn't bring himself to do so.
"We'll talk again," Colin said. "In the meantime, I'd get on with Plan B. It's not over until it's over, and Carroll's has been through tough times before."
After he’d ended the call, Kit stared at his phone, his mind a maelstrom of terrifying thoughts. He needed a strong coffee.
He strode into Marley's office and headed over to the kettle.
She glanced up, her eyes wide. "I can make you a drink. You only had to ask."
"It's fine.” To be truthful, he was glad of the distraction. “Do you want one?"
She stared at him for a moment, then nodded. "Thanks. White with—”
"No sugar," he finished without thinking. His face flooded with colour. Damn! At her arched eyebrow, he muttered, "I've watched you make enough drinks these last few days."
He didn't want her to know he remembered even that little detail about her. Not after he'd played it so cool so far. He wasn't sure if she believed him, or not, but she said nothing. Relieved, Kit handed her the coffee and sank down into a chair against the wall.
Marley took a sip of her drink, but winced like it’d scalded her lips. Placing the mug back on her desk, she asked, "Something I can help you with?"
"Just been for a tour of the factory floor."
"I know that. And?"
He hesitated. How could he put it without alarm bells going off in her head? "I'm not very happy with the way things are going."
"What do you mean?" She sounded defensive already.
"I think we've given over far too much time, money, and manpower to LuvRocks," he said carefully. "Everywhere I turned, they were churning out some of their low-grade products. That's not what Carroll's is about."
She eyed him steadily for a moment, then shrugged. "I agree."
She did? "You do?" Kit couldn't hide the surprise in his voice. The last thing he'd expected was for Marley, of all people, to agree with him.
"I think they're really tacky, and Carroll's is—was—a traditional confectionery company. We should go back to doing what we do best—seaside rock and gifts for all the family, and quality chocolates."
Kit couldn't have put it better himself. He stared at her, open mouthed, and she tutted and flicked back her chestnut hair, a gleam of amusement in her eyes.
"You look surprised."
"I am. I thought you'd argue with me, even if you didn't want to," he admitted.
"Well, you know what thought did," she said primly. After another sip of coffee, she said, "So, what are you going to do about it?"
"Ease off the LuvRocks products and up production of the Carroll's stuff," he said thoughtfully. "We'll start on the Easter eggs this week. I need to make new contacts, and find new customers. Maybe an advertising campaign, too."
She sighed. "Jack tried all that," she pointed out. "It didn't do much good. You need a new angle. Something different."
"Like what?" He realised he'd sounded a little snappier than he'd intended. He wasn't Jack. Just because his brother hadn't managed to drum up business, didn't mean Kit couldn't. He loved his brother, but he wasn't like him. Marley, of all people, should’ve known that.
"I'm not sure." She put down her cup and tapped her fingers on the desk. "Maybe you should call Gina at Clarke and Howell's? They've worked with us on marketing before. I can get you her number?"
"No thanks." He stood, cupping his mug in one hand, as he opened the door to his office with the other. "I can sort this out myself."
"But, clearly, we need help," she began. "If you're going to up production of our stuff, we need to have someone to sell it to, and that being the case—”
"I'll figure it out," he assured her, and ignoring the look of frustration on her face, he went back into the office and closed the door behind him.
He could picture her expression right then, as he leaned against the door. She would be angry, scornful, no doubt. Another black mark against him.
Oh, well, if he was being honest, what Marley thought of him was the least of his worries.
Kit picked up the bundle of papers on his desk and perused them once again. thinking, suddenly, that a beer seemed a much better idea than coffee.
Sighing, he picked up the telephone receiver and punched out a number. It took about ten rings before Serafina answered. He'd almost given up on her.
Hearing her voice, he felt a stab of relief. "Serafina?"
"Kit, darling! I thought you'd vanished off the face of the earth. I take it you went back, then?"
"I did. It's good to hear your voice, sweetheart. Look, you know what we were discussing on the phone the other week? Well, how do you fancy a trip to Yorkshire?"