She felt herself sneer at him. ‘Well Chris, tell me the top three things of concern right now.’
‘Sure,’ he said, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. ‘The main areas of concern are, and trust me there are a lot more than just three, but since you asked, these are the big ones I would flag.’
Chris stood up and walked to a sideboard and pressed a button under the lip of the wood. A large electronic whiteboard came down from the ceiling and he opened the drawer in the sideboard and pulled out some markers. He pulled off the lid of a blue one and started to speak.
‘Growth is the first pressure,’ he said, writing it down. ‘Leon has opened over 700 stores with more slated for the next ten years. Some of these are running at a loss. There are too many within walking distance of each other and although we tried to convince him otherwise he wanted world domination with the Pajaro brand to be everywhere.’
Of course he did, thought Violetta. Leon’s dominance was legendary in business, putting pressure on existing retailers in up and coming neighbourhoods until they caved, then the Pajaro swat team moving in to set up stores almost overnight.
Chris continued, warming to having an audience and finally being heard. ‘The other issue is the garments themselves. Leon was sick of following the trends and decided that he wanted Pajaro to be a leader, not a follower. He threw out the design team and brought in expensive designers from Europe to create the new look. The thing is that he counteracted this by sending production offshore and slashed the fabric budget to make up for the astronomical amount he was paying the design teams. The clothes are cheap and not all of them are on trend. We get a lot of returns through faulty fabrics and zippers and the like. It’s costing us a bomb,’ he said, writing down the wordsstock, design and productionon the whiteboard.
Carlotta looked down at her Pajaro clothes – they seemed fine enough now but would they last more than a few washes, she wondered.
‘And the other problem is the general marketing and retailing experience. Leon was dead set against the Internet. We only got a website after we all revolted and demanded one. He is archaic when it comes to communication,’ he said, not caring if he offended any of his boss’s daughters.
Grace almost laughed and then remembered the tragedy of everything that sat before them. Watching her father trying to use the computer to answer emails was painful, his one finger stabbing and him swearing at the machine like it was a subservient staff member. Her mother on the other hand loved the Internet for shopping, reading, emailing the girls. Technology never scared Birdie, she was constantly amazed about the uses of the web, calling Grace in raptures, the last time about a new gardening site she had found with rare seeds for propagating from some far flung region.
Chris was still holding court. The sisters were intrigued. He was honest about Leon’s behaviour and smart about Pajaro's problems and seemed to genuinely care about what happened to the company.
‘The main issue here is… and I hope I don’t offend you about your father…’ he started.
‘Please, go right ahead,’ said Violetta, leaning forward. ‘There is nothing you can say about Leon that we haven’t heard, thought or experienced before, trust me.’
She looked into his eyes and he smiled wryly.
Chris nodded at her respectfully. ‘Leon was a dictator. A despotic leader, he ran this company with fear, and you cannot sell fashion and dreams with fear. He wanted to make his mark on the world and he did to a certain point, but recently he had become maniacal. Desperate and greedy. I have only been with the company for one year. I came from an exciting retailer, growing but managed carefully. Leon promised me the world and I believed him. He could be very persuasive sometimes.’
Grace nodded her agreement. Leon’s charm could melt you and have you doing things you would regret, she thought, remembering her summer in Spain a long time ago. Shaking the memory away, she returned her concentration to Chris.
‘We all could have done better. We want to do better, to be real with you. You have some of the best retail brains in the world sitting in this room. Leon always chose the best, as you know, and yet none of us have been able to do our jobs.’
Chris sat down, almost exhausted from his speech. He believed every word of it. The passion of Violetta and the support of her sisters and their family lawyer were almost inspiring. Perhaps, just perhaps, they had a chance to turn Pajaro around.
Chris had come from a well-known chain store, not as big as Pajaro but twice as popular., and growing. He had wanted to ascend to the top and Leon had given him a huge promotion and a promise of carte blanche, which had failed to eventuate. Chris was already looking for new opportunities at other companies when the three sisters walked in. He was prepared for them to decide to sell and keep what was left of their fortune, but was surprised and impressed by the display of family unity before him.
Leon rarely mentioned his daughters or wife unless it was to boast. Carlotta, he had heard of; she was the horse rider, and Leon liked to talk about her recent rides or prizes. Grace was mentioned when she was working with New York’s society doyennes or privileged people, and Leon would speak as though Grace was a part of that circle, not merely working with them at the auction house.
Violetta he never mentioned, but then Leon didn’t have to. Violetta's exploits were well known, always onPage Sixand society websites for the best-dressed lists, which Chris read regularly.
Carlotta looked at Grace, who seemed daunted, and at Violetta, who now looked tired.
‘I would like some time with my sisters and lawyer before we talk further,’ she said. ‘If you can please give us a few minutes then we can resume the discussion when we have looked at our options.’
The men dutifully filed out and waited in the hallway, Chris glancing behind him as he left the room, hoping he hadn’t gone too hard with his assessment of Pajaro and Leon's leadership.
‘What a fucking mess,’ said Carlotta, never afraid to speak with the colourful language of the stables.
‘I agree,’ said Grace. ‘He’s taken all the money. Has he taken Mummy’s money too?’ she asked Spencer.
‘No, she’s fine. I checked yesterday. He can’t touch that, fortunately. Letty, you really want to do this? If you sell you will still come out with enough for generations. Don’t worry about money.’
‘It’s not about the money, Spencer. I don’t care about that. It’s about Birdie and what she wanted for Pajaro. This was her idea and Leon took it over and now look what’s he’s done. It’s as though she doesn’t even exist any more. I know this is a big ask of all of you. You, Carlotta to come away from your riding; you, Grace from a job you love. I get it, but I have to do this or at least try. Even if you decide to not help me at least don’t vote me out and sell from under me, give me a go.’
As she spoke the tears ran freely down her face. Carlotta felt her eyes prick with tears and Grace openly sobbed. They realised that Violetta was not speaking to them any more; she was speaking to the ghost of Leon that hung over the boardroom and the company. This was everything she wanted to say when she asked Spencer to join the company.
Grace sat quietly. ‘Cranfields can survive without me for a while. I’ll stay until Mummy wakes up.’
Carlotta tapped her pencil on the table. Violetta and Grace looked at her expectantly. ‘What?’ she asked.
