The warehouse was noisy and busy. Abel and three other men unloaded boxes onto pallets from the flatbed ute which was backed in thanks to the rain. A forklift moved the pallets as soon as they were loaded, depositing them at the end of the long work benches. A small delivery truck idled outside waiting its turn.
In the middle of this, a black luxury SUV edged past and found a parking spot at the back of the driveway.
Bradley grabbed an umbrella and shot out into the weather, hurrying to get to the visitor before he got out.
He held it over the driver’s door, water trickling down his neck as he lost coverage.
‘Day for ducks, not people.’ Duncan Chandler sounded cheery as he climbed out after checking where his feet—clad in crocodile leather shoes—would land. ‘I look forward to an early retirement in a place of perpetual warmth and rare downpours.’
Don’t we all.
Not yet forty, the man’s paunch and red nose and cheeks reflected his lifestyle. He’d been heard saying it often enough—work hard, play harder. And Bradley admired him. Kind of. Certainly enough to want to work with him.
‘Let’s get out of the weather.’
The rain battered the roof of the warehouse, adding to people yelling to each other and the beeping of the forklift.
‘Coffee, Duncan?’
‘Actually, I’d like to see how this all works, if you don’t mind?’
‘That’s right, you’ve not been here before.’
‘Walk me through.’
Bradley caught Abel’s eye and in a moment, he joined them.
‘This is Abel Farrelly. He keeps things on track, and you can always speak with him if I’m unavailable.’
‘Looks busy. Are those all toys?’ Duncan gazed at the tables where boxes were being opened and tipped out.
‘Every last one. There’s a container-load coming through here over the next week thanks to the importer going belly-up while the boat was on its way. It sat on the wharves for a bit longer than hoped. Been hard, losing David,’ Abel said.
‘And now you want to change direction.’ Duncan turned his back on Abel.
Bradley nodded for Abel to go back to work and led the visitor to the first table. ‘As I said at our dinner, I’ve secured a new arrangement with the freight company pending signing of a contract.’
Duncan glanced at him with a frown. ‘Pending isn’t signed.’
‘It will be though.’ Time to get off the subject. ‘The first thing we do is check the product. Sometimes several are stuffed inside a large bag and other times, like this box, each is wrapped.’ Bradley picked up a purple dragon inside a cheap clear bag. ‘All the packaging is removed, and the product inspected for integrity. They might be dirt cheap, but they need to pass muster.’ He ripped the bag open and passed the toy to Duncan. ‘What do you think of this?’
The toy dragon was large enough for a little kid to cuddle and the fabric was soft. The stitching was good enough and it was cute.
‘Assuming it made it through customs and doesn’t contain drugs, it is exactly the type of thing I’d buy.’ Duncan tossed it back onto the table. ‘Yet you’ve only offered me a transport and distribution arrangement. Why?’
Not keen for their conversation to be overheard by employees, Bradley guided Duncan toward the back end of the warehouse to the shipping containers. The doors of one were padlocked but the other was open and workers were packing it with large colourful boxes.
‘Once a toy passes inspection it is repackaged. That usually means in a thick clear plastic bag with a cardboard header. Those big boxes are ours and the brand changes depending on the items. We’ve got half a dozen brands registered.’
Duncan smiled but not in a nice way. His earlier cheeriness was long gone. ‘Why am I here?’
Time for coffee.
‘Let’s go to the office. Bit quieter in there.’
Once he got them both a coffee and closed the door to keep the noise out, Bradley turned on the charm. ‘Duncan’s Discount Toys is a rock star business. You built an empire from the ground up in less than a decade and are a masterclass in entrepreneurial enterprises.’
‘Don’t blow smoke up my arse, mate. Just answer the question.’
‘Fair enough. Look, we’ve been slowly increasing market share in other states and some remote regional hubs. But sending half-empty containers interstate is a waste of money. We deal with a handful of two buck shops in Queensland and less in Darwin and Adelaide. Not enough to service weekly unless—’
‘Unless you can fill the container. Thing is… I didn’t make a fortune by helping my competition.’ Duncan leaned back in his chair and crossed an ankle over his knee. He stared at Bradley; his lips pressed together.
This was do or die time. If Duncan pulled the pin on negotiations they’d be stuffed.
‘When David Weaver came on board a few years ago, your empire was moving fast. Our business was growing as well, and we’d made a few connections in China and on the docks, so we’d get wind of unwanted shipments. Even back then it made sense to reach out to you. See if we could fit into your supply chain somewhere.’
‘But?’
Bradley shrugged. ‘David said no. He wanted to keep doing what we’ve always done with the mixed loads. But a few months ago when we did the sums for expanding and sending our boxes interstate, I knew we needed to offer regular container space to another business. To you.’
‘Which you raised with me months ago. Then nothing until yesterday.’
‘There’s more. I can offer you first look at any toys now. My business model is for the dirt cheap stuff so it makes sense for you to buy the better quality shipments. Then we jointly transport them.’
‘Where was this offer last time we spoke?’
‘My hands were tied.’
The phone began to ring. Bradley lifted and replaced the receiver.
‘What changed, Bradley?’
On the top of the filing cabinet was a photograph of Bradley and David shaking hands, taken the day their partnership became official. Bradley dragged his eyes from it.
‘I’ll tell you what changed, Duncan. The person who had stopped me from going forward with you died. As tragic as it is, David is gone. That’s what changed.’
Melanie insisted on helping clear the kitchen table after dinner. Since her session with Doctor Raju this morning, she’d seemed a bit less withdrawn and more interested in being active rather than curled up in front of the television.
‘That was a big help, Melanie. Are you going to read for a bit now?’
‘I’ve read all the books in my room.’
‘Already? Have you checked the bookcase in the living room? I’m pretty sure there’s a few your mum used to read.’
She nodded.
‘You have checked?’
‘May I borrow them?’
His heart hurt a little at her polite request. Did she not yet understand she would live here now and that everything his, was hers?
He pulled up a chair and motioned for her to sit near him. ‘Melanie, you have lovely manners. But you don’t need to ask to read the books because they are yours now. Same as you can help yourself to anything in the fridge. Everything here is yours as well. Probably prefer you leave the grown-up books for when you are older and ask if you need anything that is high up, but otherwise, help yourself.’
‘What about the rest of my clothes and toys and books and stuff. At home.’
Wide, serious, eyes regarded him.
When Marion died, he’d tried to shield Susie from the realities of life without her mother. Avoided being honest if it would hurt her too much.
Hurt me too much.
‘Grandad? I heard you talking with the lady before. I didn’t mean to hear but was going to go to the bathroom and she was talking about my school.’
‘You should have come and said hello, Mel. Ms Burrows is a social worker who looks out for people who might need a hand sometimes.’ He shifted in his seat as he cast his mind back to the conversation. ‘Was it about how far we are from your school?’
‘She said the public transport is a long way away. But I can walk a long way, Grandad. So I can keep going there. Can’t I?’ Her lips quivered and Vince quickly nodded and smiled.
‘Going to do my best to make that happen. And you won’t need to walk.’
‘I have homework I haven’t done yet. In my room at home. Can we go and get it?’
He’d not given school or school holidays a thought. ‘When do you go back?’
‘Um… not next week. The one after. So when can we get my homework?’
‘Well, it depends if you want to come with me. I can see if Lyndall can stop by for a bit tomorrow to spend time with you if you prefer I go alone.’
Melanie hopped off the chair. ‘May I come with you?’
What could he do but agree? She had to go back sometime.