Chapter 9. Mavis Has A Dream

Chapter 9
Mavis has a dream.

(This story is entirely ficticious)

By the time Geoffrey and Mavis got home that night they were both very agitated and thoroughly miserable.
“Look at all this” Mavis said showing Geoffrey the multitude of bags full of clothes Juicey had made her buy. “That girl has got the taste of an alley cat and if she thinks I'm every going to wear any of this, she's got another thing coming!”
Geoffrey looked sadly at the mixture of brightly coloured 'frocks' and smart looking trouser suits. He tried to picture Mavis wearing any of these outfits and the phrase mutton and lamb came to mind. Which was, in his view, a much better phrase than steak and oysters. Not that he had anything against steak but he had never liked oysters and now, having watched Milkem and Bankrupt eating oysters and listening to them making lewd suggestions of what else they could eat this way, had make Geoffrey feel quite sick. He had always felt himself to be a very broad minded person but, with every moment he spent with Milkem and Bankrupt, he could feel his mind shrinking.
“I so wish we could turn back time and have our old business back” he told Mavis. “We might not have made millions but at least we knew what we were doing. I feel all up in the air now.”
Mavis agreed. She didn't like what was happening to the Northern Block Toffee Company at all. Neither did she like being marched around the shops by a pompous little madam and made to waste perfectly good money on clothes she didn't like or want.
“You have to think of the image of the Company” Juicey had insisted. “And its going to take quite a few trips like this before we get your wardrobe in order. Don't think you can get away with a couple of dresses and a few suits, we need to get you organised from head to toe. I'm not even going to ask you the kind of underwear you've got on because I can imagine it's bloomers and a liberty bodice.”
Mavis herself had said very little throughout the shopping trip except to repeat several times that she couldn't understand what her wardrobe had to do with toffee. Back at home now she could only reflect on the days events as a total disaster and the very thought she would have to repeat this performance was enough to give her nightmares. Which it did.
That night she tossed and turned and when she eventually fell asleep she went into a deep dark dream. In her dream she was out shopping with Juicey Lucy and Juicey was making Mavis buy and wear terrible gawdy skimpy outfits and skirts so short they showed her knickers and shoes with heels so high she could hardly walk in them. And as Mavis walked along the High Street everyone was staring at her an laughing. Even Juicey Lucy was laughing and pointing until Mavis was in tears of humiliation.
But then, suddenly, Mavis felt a terrible rage come over her. She felt her lips tighten and her eyes narrow. She looked at Juicey Lucy who was standing on the edge of the pavement and, seeing a double decker bus coming up the road, Mavis launched herself at Juicey and pushed her in front of the bus. Juicey went down like a ton of brick and the terrified bus driver couldn't help but hit her.
“You'll think twice about taking me shopping again” Mavis growled at Juciey and then she turned to walk away. But, to her horror, the crowd of people who had gathered at the scene of the crime, grabbed her and started shouting.
“I saw that” one old lady shouted, “I saw that woman push that poor young lass under the bus.”
“Murderer, murderer,” shouted someone else.
“Call the police” shouted another “pin her down on the floor while we get the police”.
“Look at her” shouted an elderly gent “look at the way she's dressed. Short skirt and high heels at her age. You can see what line of business she's in! Likes of her shouldn't be allowed out.”
“Probably killed the young lass out of jealousy” yelled a very mouthy middle aged lady. “Don't matter what you wear love” she shouted at Mavis, “there's no way you're ever going to float anyone's boat.”
“You don't understand” Mavis tried to shout back. “I had to do it. She was making me show the whole world my knickers.”
“Oh, like you're not perfectly willing to show them on your own” came a vicious voice.
At this point Mavis tried to run away from the crowd but they grabbed her arms savagely. She struggled and struggled, sure they would do something really dreadful to her. Which may well have been the case except that Geoffrey shook her awake at that moment.
“Hey lass” he said trying to calm his hysterical wife down, “what ever is the matter? What on earth were you dreaming about?”
“Oh Fudge” Mavis said clinging to Geoffrey's neck “It were terrible. I dreamt I pushed Juicey Lucy under a bus and killed her! And then all these people Fudge, they all grabbed hold of me and I think they would have murdered me and....”
“But they didn't” said Geoffrey consolingly “and what's more, they couldn't because it was just a dream love.”
“But it was so real Geoffrey. I really thought I was a goner. And as for poor Juicey, I know I don't like the girl but I don't know what came over me, suddenly I was like some evil banshee. I knew exactly what I was doing Geoffrey and I can tell you that I deliberately pushed the poor girl right in front of a bus. She didn't have a chance.”
“Now come on Mother. Pull yourself together. I know how you feel, I had just the same feelings when I dreamt I killed Mr Chargingbull. But I say to you now what you said to me then. It were just a dream.”
Eventually Mavis calmed down but she was frightened to go back to bed in case the nightmare started again. So instead, they got up and had some cocoa and then played Dominos until the sun was up. Because it was now Saturday, they didn't have to go to work but they decided not to do what they usually did on Saturday because Mavis had had more than enough of shopping. So instead and as a special treat, they spent the afternoon with their local Line Dancing Group which they had practically ignored since Mr Soderbread had given them the five million pounds.
That night they both slept like babies. They had a restful Sunday and Mavis made a nice roast beef with Yorkshire pud for lunch. And by Monday morning they were fresh as daisy's. Mavis had even decided she would try to be a bit more friendly with Juicey Lucy.
Unfortunately that particular plan didn't get off to a very good start because Juicey didn't come in to work. But Milkem did and he looked terrible. He was white as a sheet and looked as if he hadn't slept a wink.
“What ever's the matter with you lad” Geoffrey asked him.
“Something terrible has happened” Milkem said. “Mavis, prepare yourself, sit down. You too Geoffrey, sit down because I've got some really sad news.”
Geoffrey and Mavis sat down and, in the back of their minds, they both had a very good idea what the sad news was. And it wasn't anything to do with any ones budgie dying.
“I'm very sorry to tell you that there's been a dreadful accident and poor Juicey Lucy is dead.”
“Oh my goodness,” said Geoffrey “what on earth happened?”
“Unbelievably” said Milkem with genuine tears in his eyes, “it seems that some lunatic woman pushed Juicey right underneath a ten ton truck!”
“A truck” shreiked Mavis “are you sure?”
“What d'you mean am I sure” said Milkem? “I've spent most of the weekend talking to the police and I've been to the mortuary. There's very little mistaking the damage a ten ton truck can do to a person.”
“But are you really sure” asked Mavis? “Was it definitely a truck and not a bus?”
“Whatever is the matter with you Mavis” asked Milkem? “Yes it was a truck and a fucking big one at that. But what does it matter if it was a truck or a bus? What difference would it make? Juicey is dead!”
“It's terrible” said Geoffrey “absolutely terrible. I really don't know what to say Mr Milkem.”
“Of course Mr Bankrupt is beside himself. Juicey was the best PA he ever had. And Mr Soderbread has had to take a holiday to get over the shock.”
“Why” asked Mavis? “It's not as if she was his PA?”
“No she wasn't Mavis. But Mr Soderbread is a kind and caring person and he likes to think of his customers and their staff as his family. Juicey was like a daughter to him.”
Geoffrey and Mavis exchanged glances and, for the first time ever, they were grateful their own daughter had emigrated to Canada ten years ago.
“Anyway” said Milkem sadly, “life goes on and you are now one staff member down. So I'm sending my own PA, Miss Sucit, in as a temporary replacement.”
“Do we really need her” asked Mavis? “I mean it's not as if we're making any toffee and we're certainly not selling any.”
“And on the subject of toffee” said Geoffrey, “I've been meaning to have a word with you about....”
But Milkem cut him dead. “Today Geoffrey, is hardly the day to be talking about toffee. Juicey's not even in her grave yet and you want to go back to work as normal?”
“Point taken” said Geoffrey. “But with things as they are, I'd say making toffee wasn't work as usual. In fact it's become very unusual.”
Still Milkem wasn't having any of it. “I suggest we all take the day off” he told them. “Then tomorrow, I suggest a bit of retail therapy is in order, to cheer ourselves up. It's what Juicey would have wanted.”
Mavis was inclined to agree that Juicey was all up for retail therapy at every possible opportunity. But she personally was all retail therapied out.
“What kind of retail therapy did you have in mind” she asked Milkem nervously.
“Cars” he said immediately, “Company cars. I've been meaning to get round to it for ages and I just haven't had a chance.”
“But you drive an Aston Martin” Geoffrey pointed out. “Why would you need another car.”
“Because” Milkem explained with a definite hint of exasperation in his voice, “that Aston martin is my Company car from a different Company. By rights I shouldn't be driving that car to work here at the Northern Block Toffee Company because that car belongs to the Best Bonking Bed Company. So I need to get a car for here. Do you see?”
They didn't.
“So what happens when you work half a day at the Best Bonking bed Company and half a day here” asked Mavis?
“Well, to be honest Mavis, there are times when I have to stretch the rules. Especially as I have over fifty directorships. There are days when I could spend most of the day going from Jag to Merc to Roller, just to be politically correct. But” he concluded happily, “ as long as I have Company car from each Company, I can justify the fact I occasionally drive the wrong car to the wrong Company.”
“So what car were you thinking of getting from this Company” asked Geoffrey miserably.
“Actually” Milkem said brightening considerably and with all thought of Juicey out of his mind now, “I was thinking, that until we get the Company really up and running, I'd just get a little run around. Something like a Porche or a Maserratti. What d'you think?”
They didn't.
“And what about you two? Have you thought about what car you'd like?”
“We're quite happy with our old Volvo Estate” said Geoffrey. “we've had her for years but there's a good few miles left in her yet.”
“That's as maybe” said Milkem sounding exasperated again “but you've got to get it into your heads that image is everything. You driving round in a beaten up old Volvo is like a big advert saying 'the Northern Block Toffee Company is not a success.' You've got to stop being selfish Geoffrey and start thinking about the greater good. Now what kind of car do you want?”
Neither Geoffrey or Mavis could give him an answer because they had never had the least interest in cars. The factory was a two minute walk from their home. The High Street was two minutes away from the factory and the only reason they had a car at all was because they occasionally took themselves off for a weekend in Scarborough.
“Right, I can't waste any more time on this” Milkem snapped at them. “If you can't make your minds up, I'll just have to choose for you. Roller it is.”
“Roller” shrieked Mavis. “Do you mean a Rolls Royce? Why would Geoffrey and I want a Rolls Royce?”
“I don't care if you want one or not” said Milkem. “You're going to have one. It's what Juicey would have wanted for you.”

Copyright N barton 2009

Chapter 8. A New World

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Chapter 8

A New world.

(This story is entirely ficticious)

Over the next few weeks Geoffrey and Mavis felt they had moved to a different world. Milkem and Bankrupt moved about ten new people into their tiny factory and, although Stan, Irene and Reginald were still there, they couldn't do any work because they were falling over new people all the time. And these people seemed incredibly busy. In particular they were busy decorating.

Mr Bankrupts personal assistant, Juicey Lucy, appeared to be in charge. Mavis wasn't at all happy about this.

“If she were my daughter I'd be wiping all that paint of her face and buying her a few clothes that were the right size and didn't show what most ladies keep as a Sunday treat for their husbands” she said.

“I think young girls think differently about that sort of thing” said Geoffrey nervously. “They're less timid these days about showing what they've got hidden.”

“That one hasn't got it hidden at all” Mavis snapped at him. “I could tell you how many Weetabix she's had for breakfast. If those knickers she wears got any smaller, they'd be called postage stamp on string. And if her breasts come any further out of that dress they'll be punching us all in the face every time we talk to her!”

Geoffrey decided to err on the side of caution and said as little as possible about Juicey. And so the battle between the two ladies continued on a daily basis.

“Mavis,” Juicey would say almost every morning, “if I've asked you once I've asked you a hundred times, what colour do you want your office painted? And do you want basket weave or shag pile on the floor?”

And every morning, Mavis just looked at her with disdain.

“I don't want basket weave or shag pile” she said angrily, “I just want to make toffee and we're about 15,000 bars down on the orders.”

The debate was endless. Juicey insisted that no more toffee should be made until the ambiance was right because customers coming into what she called 'this cattle shed' would not be inspired to buy anything. Mavis insisted that her customers, who she'd had for years, weren't interested in coming to visit, they just wanted their toffee delivered on time.

“And another thing” Juicey said “you, Mavis, are a Director of this Company and we can't have you coming to work and putting your slippers on. Not to mention the fact that you appear to be buying your clothes from Oxfam.”

“I do” Mavis confirmed.

“Right, note in diary” said Juicey, “Once a week, take Mavis shopping.”

“But I don't want to go shopping once a week” Mavis said indignantly, “I just want to make toffee.”

Things could have been a lot worse between Mavis and Juicey but for the intervention of Mr Soderbread who was continually popping round to see how things were progressing. As Mr Bankrupt very rarely put in an appearance, Mr Soderbread insisted he would get his updates via quick meetings with Juicey in the Board room, which was previously the store room for the toffee ingredients.

It did not escape the notice of Geoffrey, Mavis, Stan, Irene or Reginald that both Mr Soderbread and Juicey herself, came out of these meetings very flushed.

“These young people seem to have very intense Board Meetings these days” commented Stan. “I wish I had the energy to get so animated about a business meeting. Still, they look as if they're getting a lot done.”

Mavis wasn't convinced. Nor did she like the quick grin that past between Geoffrey and Stan on the matter of these Board Meetings.

After a month the Northern Block Toffee Company factory looked like a completely different place. Everywhere you looked there were fake leather sofa's with leopard skin throws, the walls were adorned with minimalist paintings and in every room there was a very pretty young girl or very intense looking young man, all working away furiously on computers and all looking very busy. What there wasn't was anywhere to make toffee.

Geoffrey, Mavis, Irene, Reginald and Stan, spent most of their time sitting in Mavis's newly refurbished office (with purple shag pile) playing Domino's and drinking tea. Every day Geoffrey would attempt to organise a meeting with Milkem, Bankrupt, Soderbread or even with Juicey Lucy but they were all far too busy. And when ever he broached the fact they were no longer producing toffee and had now lost the majority of their old customers, he was always told he shouldn't worry and that very soon now Northern Block would be launching on the world markets.

At the end of the first month Mr Milkem arrived in the office and gave Geoffrey and Mavis a cheque for £12,500 each.

“How can we be getting so much money” geoffrey asked him? “We haven't sold any toffee this month.”

“Doesn't matter” said Milkem happily, “we'll soon be selling it by the ton.”

“How can we do that when we're not actually making it?” asked Mavis.

Milken didn't answer but just winked at her as if to say 'that's all you know.' At that moment Juicey Lucy joined them.

“Right Mavis” she snapped, “slippers off, coat on, we're going shopping.”

“Oh no we're not” Mavis snapped back at her.

“Now come on Mavis” said Milkem, “you go off with Juicey and do what you girls do best – shop. Here” he said handing both women a wad of notes, “get yourselves a little something extra from me.”

Mavis started to object and tried to hand the money back but Milkem wasn't having it.

“I insist Mavis” he said sternly. “Now off you go and I'll just take Geoffrey down to the wine bar for a spot of lunch.”

“But I've got my cheese and chutney sandwich” said Geoffrey getting the sandwich out of Mavis's shopping bag. “Mavis and I always have cheese and chutney at lunchtime.”

Milkem took it off him and threw it in the bin. “Live dangerously Geoffrey” he said “let's go to the winebar and have some steak and oysters.” Then he marched to the door and held it open until Geoffrey followed him. Which he did with much trepidation and with a backwards glance at Mavis that said 'help'. But Mavis had her own problems.