The Portland Box Company
I’m Peter Henderson and I’ve been the General Manager of the Portland Paper Company for the last five years and this is the first time I have had a formal invitation to lunch with the CEO Patrick and Joseph from HR. Normally they would call or say something on my daily walk through the factory and offices. No, this was formal summons, so I slid on my Jacket, straightened my tie, looked at my reflection in the office glass panel and walked to the Main Board dining room. Patrick and Joseph were already there plus David Norton from the adjacent Box company. We shook hands and were shown to our seats by Patrick. The waitress brought bread and starters to the table and the waiter brought a bottle of wine and opened it with a pop.
“Thank you all for coming. This is a celebration, so we’ll have some wine,” stated Patrick and nodded to the waiter to pour. I immediately relaxed and wondered what the celebration was for. At least I wasn’t being fired or restructured as in HR parlance.
“Yes, we are celebrating David’s retirement from our Box factory. He’s spent a couple of years there and we are looking for a replacement,” said Patrick looking directly at me. “Peter, you are a couple of years off retiring, aren’t you? Our succession planning is in order and now we are proposing to put you out to grass. This will allow you to get your house in order and plan for a comfortable retirement, away from the stresses of the main factory. What do you say?”
“Well, this is a surprise. I haven’t given retirement a thought,” I said having a sip of wine.
“There you are. We predicted this. You know that the company has a sixty policy and we just want this period to be as peaceful as possible for you,” stated Patrick, looking at David. “David, you have found the last two years peaceful and without stress?” David nodded and sipped his wine to avoid saying anything. “Well, that’s settled. Let’s get on with our meal. David, I presume Marcia is still ruling the roost over there?” David just nodded.
As I walked out of the dining room, Joseph slipped me a thick envelope and gave my shoulder a squeeze. Back at my office I opened the envelope, curious to view the terms. To my surprise there was no change to my conditions or remunerations. I wasn’t sure if I was pleased or sorry. The Box Company was the old original factory on the same site but much smaller and currently manufactured small runs for our existing clients to retain their business. It was run as a loss leader but was essential to the company’s profile. I remember visiting the place many years ago and wondered if it had changed.
Two weeks later I transferred to my new office in the Box company. The office was large, a relic of the old chairman of the original company. The huge mahogany desk was most impressive, accompanied by an old leather high backed chair. The other furniture comprised a sofa with two comfortable chairs, a low coffee table, a tall, large cupboard with glass doors, a long credenza with a coffee maker at one end and a grandfather clock with a loud tick. Behind the desk was a oak door leading to a full-size bathroom with shower. I was astounded. The decorated panelling looked a bit old but there were two windows bringing in pure daylight. Not the enclosed box room I had in the main building.
“I’m sorry Mr Henderson. I was expecting you this afternoon. I would’ve had coffee on the boil and cakes to welcome you,” said a tall lady rushing in, a little embarrassed.
“You must be Marcia, my assistant, please call me Peter. I like to be informal. You must show me around and introduce me to everyone, including the shopfloor,” I said placing my worn brief case on the desk and looking around in amazement.
“Before we go onto the introductions let me show and settle you into your office. As you probably gather, this space belonged to the old chairman, Malcolm Squires, now it’s yours. It’s very well accommodated. There’s a full bathroom behind that door and you have probably noticed that all the office paraphernalia, printers, filing cabinets etc are missing. Don’t worry they are all hidden in the back office behind this panel,” Marcia pushed against a panel and it opened outwards revealing a large space filled with office furniture. “We have everything in there,” stated Marcia with a smile. The most important elements are the fridge and the kettle. I keep my sandwiches in there. I hope you don’t mind.”
“Very impressive Marcia. Can we sit on the sofa and I want to know what your role is in this factory. I like to be informal so don’t think of this as an interview just an informative chat.” As I sat Marcia rushed off into the side office and came back with a tray of coffees and a plate of ginger biscuits.
“Oh, I checked on you Peter, so you have coffee black and strong, no sugar and there is a sandwich in the fridge for you. Panini with a coronation chicken filling which you have regularly.” She said and sat down in an armchair to my side.
“According to David, you run this place?” I asked.
“Not quite Peter. The place runs by itself. Ginger or Greg runs the designs and schedules the work. Eddy the foreman runs the factory operation. Bob the maintenance guy ensures everything is running smoothly. Carol runs the finance with the help of three staff and I do the daily walk around just to make sure everyone understands that there is someone in charge. David spent most days at lunches with his golfing pals and played golf at least twice a week. Do you play golf Peter?”
“No, I don’t but you seem to have everything under control but I hear that we have a huge backlog in orders. Why is that?”
“That’s a legacy thing and our clients just accept the fact that our production facility is too small as you will see. It’s also outdated compared to what you are used to in the main plant Peter.”
“Marcia, thank you for the precise description of this place. Before you take me out onto the floor, I would first like to see the financials. Can you ask Carol to bring me the information now. I just want to review it and get an understanding what I have let myself in for.”
“Don’t worry Peter, everything is in order it’s just that we are a loss leader and nobody has ever questioned our losses. I’ll get Carol to bring in her laptop. She’s a lovely girl, a bit shy so go easy on her,” said Marcia, standing up, straightening her plain grey plaid skirt and her brown cardigan. She picked up the tray, took it into the outer office and strode off purposely in the flat brogues to collect Carol.
I sat there for a moment, taking in my new surroundings and picked up my briefcase and retrieved my notebook. Marcia walked back in with Carol in tow carrying her laptop and note pad. Marcia introduced us and disappeared into the outer office. “Now Carol, since I’m new to this department I think understanding the financial would clear my mind. Now where should we sit? Probably best on the sofa with your laptop on the coffee table and you can run me through the key features.” As Carol settled herself on the sofa, Marcia appeared with a tray of coffees and biscuits, gave me an encouraging look, nodding to the sofa whispering, ‘good move’, and wandered off closing the office door.
“Hello Mr Henderson, welcome to out cosy little outfit. Since I knew you were coming today, I prepared a current summary of our incomings and outgoings for the current year, by month plus a forecast to the end of the year. As you can see, they are interesting by being boringly consistent even by month and even year.”
“That’s brilliant Carol, just as I wanted. Walk me through the big hitters”
“Salaries, pensions, national insurance is the largest, followed by power, council taxes. Then we come onto supplies of paper rolls and materials which we get cross charged by next door. Then there’s sundries which include expenses, petty cash and odd items mainly machine parts which we haven’t in stock,” she stated clearly then looked up at me with her blue eyes. I nodded and she carried on. “The income is mainly sales and occasional deposits on the empty rolls or spindles which surprisingly is five hundred pounds per item. That’s basically it. I get audited every six months but never had problems.”
“Thanks Carol. Now I would like you to clarify some items for me. Now the rolls that we get from the main plant, are they cross charged at cost or is a premium applied?”
“I don’t know Peter but I can find out. I have friend in finance over there.”
“Do that and the power looks like a standard charge irrelevant to our actual usage.”
“I did query that but told to ignore it. Bob, the maintenance man records our meter readings but nobody has asked for them. My friend in finance over there once said that we subsidise the main plant to make their financials look good. We are the loss leader which lowers the company’s corporation taxes.”
“I’m fully aware of that but it would be nice to understand our true costs and what premiums we are paying to support our mother plant.”
“I can run a parallel set of accounts for you once I’ve checked on a few things. I get bored with my routine.”
“You are very clever Carol; you have read my mind. Please do that.”
“Peter, one more thing. Shall I continue to provide you with the five-hundred-pound kitty each week?”
“Please continue with everything that you have been doing and pop in regularly to update me. I will be doing my daily rounds of the shop floor and the offices so feel free to talk to me. I’ll let you go now. You have been most informative.” She smiled, collected her laptop and walked out just as Marcia came in suggesting lunch. She popped into the outer office and came out with a tray of coffee’s, glasses of water and plates of sandwiches and placed them on the coffee table.
“Now Peter, I know you daily walk down from Clifton, buy a sandwich at the bottom of the hill and come into the office. I have spotted you occasionally when I drive down. Instead of buying a stale sandwich, why don’t I make a fresh one for you to enjoy.”
“That certainly an upgrade on the main plant. Why don’t I give you a hundred pounds a week from the petty cash slush fund and you make up the sandwiches for both of us,” I suggested looking at Marcia as she settled down on the sofa beside me, kicking off her brogues.
“That’s mighty generous of you Peter. So, you have discovered the petty cash mystery. You will have to tell me your dislikes to avoid embarrassment,” she said with a smile, taking a sip of coffee.
“This is a small organisation, a family of sorts. Is there anything like financial recognition of birthdays, anniversary, job well done. I’m sure there isn’t. I would like to spend this petty cash on things like that. Just a token to keep up the moral. What do you think?” I said biting into a delicious bun with a fresh filling of coronation chicken. What a delight.
“I think that would be a brilliant idea, Peter. I’ll get Greg to design a variety of cards and they can be run off on the shop floor. We did that last Christmas and sold the cards for charity. It’s just using up the waste card. Now how did you get on with Carol. I’m glad you made her comfortable,” said Marcia as she finished off her delicate sandwich, rolling up her linen napkin and stuffed it in a silver ring. I noticed a different ring on the tray obviously for me. This was luxury dining compared to a soggy sandwich at my desk.
“Right Marcia, thank you for a delicious feast. I expect this every day now,” I said with a chuckle as Marcia smiled with pleasure. “Will you take me on the tour. I’d like to be introduced to the Union guy first.”
After three weeks, I fell into a rhythm of coming in at about nine thirty, wandering around the office, chatting to the office staff ensuring I got to know them. Super lunches. Occasional visits to the main plant to check on my ideas and plans. Then in the afternoon I would do my rounds of the plant and observe the workings. Back in the office I would make notes and build up my future plan for improving the productivity without impacting the workers. Carol’s parallel financials helped immensely in the financial balancing without impacting the main companies with their ‘premium’ loading of costs onto the Box company. I worked out that I could improve the balance sheet by at least forty thousand pounds a month with only minor tweaks here and there.
Once the first cards were printed, I sent out my first set of birthday cards with a fifty pound note inside. I backdated this to the beginning of the quarter to get nineteen worthy candidates. It caused the desired stir. I even had workers come to my office to shake my hand and thank me. I then called a meeting of all the factory workers with Marcia and Reg the Union guy. I first told them of my background, forty or so years in the paper trade and that I had actually worked on the exact, ancient machines they had here with only a crew of four. This was a hint. I carried on telling them that the main plant was running out of storage space and was eying up their Box premises as another slight threat.
Having warmed then up and casting some uncertainty, I suggested that the easiest way to secure their future was to reduce our backlog of orders which was concerning our customers just like the NHS backlog was a deep concern to the patients.
The solution was simple, I said. After telling them I had discussed this with Reg, the Union guy, they could improve their productivity considerably by two simple changes without them breaking sweat. Firstly, they should reduce the change over time to half a day and that the box machines should run continuously through the working day with staggered lunch breaks. This, I told them I would like to start the following week unless they had any major objections. As anticipated, Trevor the shop floor agitator, immediately voiced his objections, looking around for support. I countered by asking him if he had listened and comprehended my warnings and that all I wanted was to prolong the life of the Box company, at least for the next two years until my retirement. This raised some chuckles. The following week, I spent a lot of time on the shop floor, talking and observing. Trevor came up with lots of objections and I made the point of taking them all seriously by noting them in my notebook and getting him to reluctantly to sign and date them. At the end of the week all was going smoothly and each gang had worked out it’s staggered breaks and I informed them regularly that their simple work change had improved the backlog by three weeks. Bob, the maintenance guy, checked out the machinery scrupulously at the end of each shift. He also stated that the machines run better without a stop-start. What I didn’t tell them that our planned revenues had gone up.
In the fourth week I started my second scheme with minimum impact on my workers. The main plant used huge reels of card on their box lines and when they reached the end of a production the workers used to take off the reels if they had less than a quarter material on them and replaced them with a full reel. The used reels were stacked in racks which built over time and took up a huge area of the warehouse. I told the warehouseman I would clear them away and store them in our facility since we had plenty of space. He readily agreed and his two forklift truck drivers spent a week transferring racks and part used reels into our space. All the reels were marked up with paper type so it was easy for my workers to pick them out and use them rather than the huge unwieldy new ones we used. Carol immediately noticed and brought me two forecasts. One showing the projected paper usage with new reels and our parallel forecast showing no usage of new reels. The stark difference wouldn’t be easy to hide so with Carol, Marcia in my office I called the CFO Alf Johnstone and explained the situation and suggested that they continue cross charging us at the past rate. Alf chuckled and agreed.
A call from the warehouse man came pleading I take a couple of trucks of office furniture that had been written off for disposal and he didn’t want it stacking up in his place. I agreed and told the office staff first choice of part used furniture for the office. The first batch delivered was from the executive suites so suddenly we were the best equipped secretarial office in Bristol. I bagged three office chairs so that I could hold meetings in my office around my desk. I then offered all the staff the opportunity to take one desk, one chair and a filing cabinet for their home office. Another twenty sets disappeared from my storage area.
I called Jacob from HR with a proposal. We often had up to six trainees, many of whom had no experience of the paper industry. I suggested he sent four trainees over to the Box; I would train them and pay their wages for the good of the company. He laughed and told me to spend more time on the golf course than worrying about company financials. I gave each trainee a pair of scissors and told them to go around the store and snip chunks of card off from different reels until they could detect the paper type without checking the label. This would avoid costly mistakes in the future. They would then observe the operation on all the lines. When this was thoroughly absorbed, I set the four off on a line where they set up the machinery, set the correct paper and printed out a whole reel of Christmas cards etc until the reel ran out. I had a fifth man observing them to maintain safety. Since our machinery was so basic, they could clearly see and understand the process. The new machinery was too complicated and most of the processes were hidden behind safety shields. The main processes the trainees carried out using the line was to chop up the reels with ten percent into A4 and A2 sheets. These were delivered to local schools, hospitals and any organisation that might use card which would be at best recycled or go to land fill. Let’s say, there was a constant need. This remined me of a Sellotape director who stated that their profits were largely from the reels that office workers took home.
My last major push was with our energy costs. These I thought were astronomic, not just our plant costs but the rate charged by the energy companies. On my walks around the plant, I noticed a huge generator against on wall. I called Bob the maintenance guy to come to my office and I quizzed him on what he understood about the generator. He knew everything about it and was involved in the installation many years ago. He said it was a backup but had never been needed. He maintained it and ran it once a year at a weekend. I asked if it would run the whole or local facility. He laughed and said it was designed to run the whole site in an emergency. I asked how much it would cost to run compared to the standard rate. He said since the equipment had been written off years ago it was only the cost of diesel and maybe a battery and occasional transformer. I told him to run it for a couple of weeks and check the difference in cost. He said he could tell me the difference on the back of a fag packet. Minimum of twenty percent reduction based on current fuel prices. I gave him a ‘Congratulations well done’ card with fifty pounds in, from the kitty.
I got an invitation from the CEO Patrick to attend a lunch at the directors dining room. Again, I looked at it with foreboding. Next day I put on my best suit and wandered over to the main plant to get there on time. I was seated next to the CEO which I thought even more ominous but everybody seemed in a good mood so I relaxed and enjoyed the chat which soon centred on rugby and how the local teams were progressing. At the end of the main course the CEO cleared his throat, looked at me and said the following.
“Now Peter, tell me what you have been up to for the last month in that Box Company of yours?”
“Not much, just keeping the wheels turning and trying not to get too bored,” I said looking at him when suddenly the whole party erupted in laughter and cheering, quite startling me”
“Not what the birdy told me,” Said the CEO with a smile and continued, “We keep a weather eye on you ensuring you’re not bankrupting the Corporation but seems you are enhancing our profits with the subtle changes you have brought about.”
“Your entrepreneurship is extraordinary,” piped in the FCO Alf with a smile as many smacked the table in appreciation. “We discovered your ‘parallel’ books and were amazed at your clear understanding of our situation and you improved on it. Everybody is pleased, including our customers who are getting their orders quicker. You thought you would cut the backlog but our customers are calling for more.”
“Yes, and you are causing us another problem,” said Joseph from HR. “our bonus scheme doesn’t fit your achievements, so we propose a different scheme for you. David, the former boss over there had a weekly kitty scheme plus expenses to keep him happy but you have blown your kitty on good works and your general expenses have been nil. We propose that you increase your kitty to six hundred pounds and take it daily. The surplus you place for a rainy day in the safe in the outer office.”
“We all agree. Well done, Peter,” said the CEO and followed with, “And since you are so generous we will cross charge you for our Christmas party this year.” Followed by cheering and clapping. I was just embarrassed but saved by the waiters serving pudding, Tiramisu, my favourite.
I went back to my office with an added spring to my step and wondered with whom I would share my good fortune. Normally I would have shared this with my wife but Marcia was in the outer office and I spilled my beans with her. She gave me a light hug and disappeared into the outer office and brought out two glasses of champagne. My Email pinged and Finance had already arranged the new kitty system which neatly avoided me approaching Carol. All was kosher and above Corporate board.
The following weekend, I was still in my boxer shorts and T-shirt when the gate buzzer alarm went off. I checked my phone and pressed open automatically. The lady looked familiar. I opened my front door and was amazed to see a different form of Marcia standing there. “Hi Marcia, I didn’t recognise you in that chic get up!”
“Oh, I scrub up well at weekends,” she said with a smile. I looked at her closely noted the hair down, shoulder length, stylish beige trench coat, high heels and full make up.”
“Come on man. Stop gawping and let me in.”
“Oh right, please come in. I wasn’t expecting anyone,” I said feeling quite foolish. “I only get visits from the postie and gardener. Please come this way. We will be warmer in my snug. This house is so big I only use the snug and kitchen.”
“Stop gabbling Peter. It’s not like you. Lead the way.” The snug was at the back of the house along a huge foyer and even wider corridor. Peter ran in, pulled a cover over his bed and ushered Marcia to sit in a comfy armchair as she took off her coat.
“Where do I put my galoshes?” she said with a smile, looking around and taking in the arrangements of the snug. “So, this is a luxury bachelor’s pad, is it? All the components you can ask for,” She stated as I grabbed her coat, fitted it on a hanger and hung it on the back of the door. I looked back at her and noticed he blue dress just above her knees and a gold neckless. She posed and asked, “What do you think?”
“Hey, you look great, much better than the grandma in the office.”
“Watch your tongue young man. I have a staid persona at work and here I’m just me. I like your room. It’s cosy and comfortable. Yes, just right for a bachelor cum widower.
I could do with something like this myself. Now do I get my own refreshments, or do I summon a butler?”
“Oh, how amiss of me. The butler has a day off so the man of the house will have to provide the essential requirements. What shall it be? A cup of Darjeeling in flowery porcelain cups and dainty biscuits?”
“Oh, for heavens sake shut up and give me something stronger to settle my nerves. I had to drum up lots of courage to come here like this.”
“Well, I’m glad you came. Can I suggest a G&T or better still I have a good bottle of Burgundy on tap?”
“The latter and don’t spare the horses,” said Marcia with a smile, settling down on my sofa, crossing her legs showing more thigh the was healthy. I retrieved a bottle from the rack in the bookcase, two glasses and popped the cork. Pored a thimble full, tasted it, nodded to proclaim it was ok and poured two glasses.
“Doesn’t the local maid get the opportunity to taste the wine around here?”
“The local maids around here are too busy on a Saturday morning scrubbing floors than drinking aged wines,” I retorted as I handed over a glass and placed a bowl of stuffed olives on the table. “Only the best in this establishment. Cheers to us and thank Portland for bringing us together!” We chatted and I suggested that we should have light chicken salad for lunch. We prepared it together and she commented on the quality of ingredients. I told her I could afford the best living on my own and I deserved them. We raised our glasses to that. We sat at the kitchen table opposite each other and she suddenly looked at me seriously and announced.
“I know you are attracted to me and I am certainly to you. This is the first time I could openly show it. I don’t believe in a platonic relationship so take me to bed!” she got up and walked briskly to my den, slipped off her heels and gestured for me to unzip her dress. What could a man do in those circumstances? As the dress dropped to the floor, it revealed a crimson lacy bra and panties. “Quickly, lead me to your bed otherwise I will embarrass myself and have to leave.” We spent the afternoon in my bed and finished a second bottle of my best Burgundy and I had to walk her home. On the way she confessed that she wore sexy underwear at work. Her husband used to work in France and brought back best of French underwear each time. It was a waste not to wear it even at work.
Next week at work was difficult but we took a professional approach and I think nobody saw the change. Occasionally she would invite me into the outer office to show off her sexy panties with a command of ‘down boy’. A company gala for managers and clients was being held next week. Marcia diplomatically suggested I invite Dani from the reception to accompany me since she loved these events. Surprising to me she accepted and wondered what she would wear. Being a gentleman, I offered to pay for her outfit as long as it had the minimum of material. She called me cheeky with a wink. I had been to these events before, so I knew the score. The young went off to the dance floor whilst the elderly went to the lounges and drank best Bourbon. About one am Dani found me and suggested we go home. Taxis were awaiting in line but she suggested we go to my parked Lexus and she would repay me with a quick kiss and cuddle. She insisted. It turned out a full sex orgy in the back of the car. The worst thing was back in the office she bragged that she had ‘shagged the boss’. It didn’t seem to affect my standing other than Marcia wanting a replay in the back of my car. I told her emphatic no and that at her age it would break her back. She still persisted.
Life got very pleasant for me and hopefully for Marcia. Our companionship grew. She was often at my house with her own gate fob and backdoor key. She was often there on my walk from work, washing and ironing in my well-equipped utility room. On her arrival, she would take off her outer work clothes and put on one of my wife’s dressing gowns and flit about the place giving me a glimpse of her flesh on purpose. We would stream a film or series, drinking a glass of wine two. This would eventually lead to sharing my bed. In the morning, she would leave early in her car and I would walk down later. No one suspected we thought.
Six months later I proposed and she just muttered ‘why did it take you so long’. We decided to retire at the end of my tether and take my caravan around Europe until we got homesick. We planned so that Marcia could retire with maximum pension, so we stuffed her AVC’s to the max. On the day of our retirement her house would go on the market and she would officially move in with me. This surprised me since our house was too large. She wanted the comfort.
A full year passed quickly and another gala appeared on the horizon which I was ordered by my boss to attend to meet some prospective clients. Marcia refused to come with me unless there was a back of the car orgy on the agenda. I asked the office girls to choose my partner for the night. I was surprised that most put the name in the hat. Carol drew the short straw and I was relieved until the time to go home she insisted to go to the car. I was too tipsy to argue thinking it would be a hug and a kiss. Oh no, she wanted the full Henderson treatment. She even whispered that she had meaningfully removed her panties for the occasion, so she was ready and I had to perform or lose my status. The next morning all was revealed in all glory and detail plus exaggeration. Marcia asked me where I had learned all these advanced tricks. I had to admit that at the age of ten I watched my elder brothers glued to the screen, jerking off whilst deep porn was displayed. At the time I thought it was horror movies I was seeing.
The unexpected result of my experience with Carol was that it changed her for the good. She became confident, authoritative, completely out of her shrew shell. She initiated our meetings, presenting improvements for me to implement. I reconned that she should take on the administrative role held by Marcia. Carol was told to shadow Marcia and also to train up her replacement. The expectation of the future was probably more exciting than the real thing but I couldn’t wait for my retirement and live off the accumulated kitty.
