As it turned out, Mandy wasn’t able to ring Tom Hutchinson the next day. Ruarc had put motor home advertisements in the local newspaper which brought in a number of people to look at the motor homes and Mandy was kept very busy showing prospective customers around.
Of course, Ruarc didn’t miss the opportunity to moan that she had not made a sale to Tom Hutchinson there and then.
“Strike while the iron is hot,” he said, after calling her into his office, and he clapped his hands together for emphasis.
“Strike fast, like a snake, so they don’t know where you coming from. It’s the only way to make a sale. There’s no point in shilly shallying around. Your wages have got to come from somewhere at the end of the month.”
Of course, he was completely ignoring the fact that Mandy had just made a good sale of a rather old and decrepit motorhome that had been hanging around Ruarc’s neck like a millstone for months.
In the end, it was Tom Hutchinson that telephoned a week later early in the morning.
“Tom Hutchinson here,” he said.
“Good morning Tom, how you?” Mandy didn’t have to make an effort to make her voice friendly.
“Thinking of you – and the good deal you might be able too offer me on my VW campervan.”
Mandy felt a thrill going through her body and paused, lost for words. Tom had been thinking of her. It sounded good – but she told herself not to be foolish. He was a customer.
“I’ve only got the lunchtime today,” he continued, “but I could come around somewhere between twelve and 2 o’clock. I’d quite like to try the Adria Twin motorhome on the road. Perhaps we could take it for a drive while your Ruarc is looking at my camper van. We could stop off somewhere for a bite of lunch. ”
“I’m afraid that the arrangements here don’t exactly run to an expense account to pay for customers lunches,” Mandy grimaced down the telephone, feeling inadequate.
“Don’t worry, it’ll be my pleasure. Shall we say twelve midday?”
Mandy put the telephone down and looked into the distance at the green countryside that lay around Ruarc’s motorhome sales. She noticed for the first time that the lambs were skipping in the fields and needed a few moments while her heart slowed down to its normal rate.
Then she walked through to Ruarc’s office and checked he’d be available at lunchtime to price up the VW camper-van.
“His wreck is not worth much, so don’t get your hopes up,” said Ruarc, uncompromisingly.