said Susan, ‘helps keep you in touch with reality.’ But she was smiling.
‘Look,’ said Julian, ‘if you like, if it’ll make you feel any better, you can pay me for the use of it. A bit. Give me what you pay on bus fares. And do the odd delivery, if it fits in. You work such long hours, Susan, you really do deserve it. And it would help with getting the kids to the minder in the morning. Go on.’
‘No,’ said Susan, ‘honestly I couldn’t. I may deserve it, but Ican’t afford it. I can’t afford to buy a car for myself, I mean. And so I don’t think it’s right for me to have one I’m not paying for. It would make me feel uncomfortable. And what would the other girls think?’
‘They’d think you were bloody sensible,’ said Julian, ‘and if they could hear this conversation they’d think you were bloody silly.’
‘Well, I can’t help it. It feels wrong.’
‘Look,’ said Julian, ‘how about this. I want you to have a rise. Have the van instead.’
‘I’ve just had one. Anyway, I can’t drive.’
‘You can learn. I’ll teach you myself. Oh, for Christ’s sake, you are the most ridiculous woman. Here I am trying to improve your standard of living and you throw it back in my face. Don’t you want to get on in the world?’
‘Not if it means moving out of the bit of it I belong to. Losing touch with my own sort of people. That’s the most important thing in the world to me, Mr Morell. I can’t sell out on that.’
‘But you’re already doing a lot for your own sort of people as you call them, by getting on yourself. Surely you can see that. And I think it’s time you started calling me Julian.’
‘Oh. Oh, OK. But not in the office.’
‘All right. If you say so. But please think about what I’ve said.’
‘I will. And thank you.’
She came into his office a few days later, looking slightly awkward. ‘Mr Morell, I’ve thought about everything you said. I agree. I’ve been very shortsighted. I’d like to take the van, please. On one condition.’
‘What’s that? There can’t be many executives who lay down conditions for accepting their own perks.’
‘You put the girls’ overtime rates up, just a bit.’
‘Dear God,’ said Julian, ‘so your company car costs me about six times what it would have done. Why on earth should I do that?’
‘Because it’s fair. Because you can afford it. And because you won’t have to waste so much of your time and energy worrying about me on the bus.’ She was smiling at him now, a confident, almost arrogant smile; but there was, for the first time, real friendship in her eyes.
Julian didn’t smile back; he looked at her very seriously and sighed and buzzed through to Letitia who sat in a small anteroom outside his own. ‘Could you ask that infernal financial system of yours if we can afford to put the overtime rates up very slightly? Say two bob an hour?’
By the beginning of 1950 Morell Pharmaceuticals had expanded sufficiently for Julian to launch into his next phase.
He had sold both the factories for a sufficiently large amount of money, in the first of the great property price booms, to purchase a building in a small industrial estate near Hounslow. It housed two laboratories, a filling plant, a storage area and management offices. Management now incorporated a sales force of four.
His pharmaceutical range had extended to include six more simple, effective products, including a successful antiseptic lotion which incorporated a very mild topical anaesthetic in its formulation and therefore was far less unpleasant when dabbed on a grazed elbow or knee than other products on the market; it was no longer necessary to persuade chemists to stock Morell products, he was permanently bombarded with requests for them, and for information on any new ones which might be in the pipeline. Indeed he had received the unique accolade in the pharmaceutical industry of being approached by the head office of Boots the Chemist,
‘Look,’ said Julian, ‘if you like, if it’ll make you feel any better, you can pay me for the use of it. A bit. Give me what you pay on bus fares. And do the odd delivery, if it fits in. You work such long hours, Susan, you really do deserve it. And it would help with getting the kids to the minder in the morning. Go on.’
‘No,’ said Susan, ‘honestly I couldn’t. I may deserve it, but Ican’t afford it. I can’t afford to buy a car for myself, I mean. And so I don’t think it’s right for me to have one I’m not paying for. It would make me feel uncomfortable. And what would the other girls think?’
‘They’d think you were bloody sensible,’ said Julian, ‘and if they could hear this conversation they’d think you were bloody silly.’
‘Well, I can’t help it. It feels wrong.’
‘Look,’ said Julian, ‘how about this. I want you to have a rise. Have the van instead.’
‘I’ve just had one. Anyway, I can’t drive.’
‘You can learn. I’ll teach you myself. Oh, for Christ’s sake, you are the most ridiculous woman. Here I am trying to improve your standard of living and you throw it back in my face. Don’t you want to get on in the world?’
‘Not if it means moving out of the bit of it I belong to. Losing touch with my own sort of people. That’s the most important thing in the world to me, Mr Morell. I can’t sell out on that.’
‘But you’re already doing a lot for your own sort of people as you call them, by getting on yourself. Surely you can see that. And I think it’s time you started calling me Julian.’
‘Oh. Oh, OK. But not in the office.’
‘All right. If you say so. But please think about what I’ve said.’
‘I will. And thank you.’
She came into his office a few days later, looking slightly awkward. ‘Mr Morell, I’ve thought about everything you said. I agree. I’ve been very shortsighted. I’d like to take the van, please. On one condition.’
‘What’s that? There can’t be many executives who lay down conditions for accepting their own perks.’
‘You put the girls’ overtime rates up, just a bit.’
‘Dear God,’ said Julian, ‘so your company car costs me about six times what it would have done. Why on earth should I do that?’
‘Because it’s fair. Because you can afford it. And because you won’t have to waste so much of your time and energy worrying about me on the bus.’ She was smiling at him now, a confident, almost arrogant smile; but there was, for the first time, real friendship in her eyes.
Julian didn’t smile back; he looked at her very seriously and sighed and buzzed through to Letitia who sat in a small anteroom outside his own. ‘Could you ask that infernal financial system of yours if we can afford to put the overtime rates up very slightly? Say two bob an hour?’
By the beginning of 1950 Morell Pharmaceuticals had expanded sufficiently for Julian to launch into his next phase.
He had sold both the factories for a sufficiently large amount of money, in the first of the great property price booms, to purchase a building in a small industrial estate near Hounslow. It housed two laboratories, a filling plant, a storage area and management offices. Management now incorporated a sales force of four.
His pharmaceutical range had extended to include six more simple, effective products, including a successful antiseptic lotion which incorporated a very mild topical anaesthetic in its formulation and therefore was far less unpleasant when dabbed on a grazed elbow or knee than other products on the market; it was no longer necessary to persuade chemists to stock Morell products, he was permanently bombarded with requests for them, and for information on any new ones which might be in the pipeline. Indeed he had received the unique accolade in the pharmaceutical industry of being approached by the head office of Boots the Chemist,
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