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‘And, when it comes to stockists, we go out to specialists only. No representation in the supermarkets. No representation in the other big market sellers. It’s no wonder that sales are so low. We’re not giving people an opportunity to find Loch Cameron Distillery whisky,’ she continued.
‘I’ve been saying this for years, Ben.’ Sally leaned forward. ‘Brian never pushed for those big contracts, and you just let him slack off.’
‘That’s not fair, Sally. You know Brian was Dad’s best friend. I had to keep him in the job: I promised.’ Ben looked down at the polished wood table. ‘I know I made bad decisions. We’ve talked about this before.’
‘Hey. This isn’t about blame,’ Liz interjected. ‘Whatever happened in the past, happened. Ben hired me to address your – our – sales problems, and that’s what I’m doing.’
‘Fine.’ Sally sat back in her chair. ‘Liz, this isn’t about you. I know you’re doing a great job. I just feel like I’ve said a lot of this before, and nothing ever got done. It’s frustrating, that’s all.’
‘I can imagine that it must be.’ Liz met Sally’s eyes with an open, friendly gaze. In fact, she knew exactly how frustrated Sally must be, as she’d been in the same position herself in the past. It was so annoying when you, as the person who worked in the company and could see all the problems, pointed them out but were ignored. Then, a new consultant or new member of staff would come in and say all the same things, and be listened to – and, usually, paid handsomely for doing so. It was just how workplaces were, sometimes.
‘I’m not even in Sales. I know that’s your expertise, Liz, and believe me, I know you’re great at your job. And I’m so glad to have you here. But I could have told you all – and I did, repeatedly – that you can’t sell whisky if it’s not in the shops,’ Sally repeated. ‘Anyway. That’s all I’ll say.’
‘And you’re a hundred per cent correct, Sally,’ Liz agreed. ‘So, that’s why I’ve got meetings set up with three major supermarket chains. They know me, so they know I’m going to come to them with what they want to hear. But what they’re going to want to hear from me is that we can appeal to the modern whisky market, and can also provide them with the volume they need. Now, I can solve the first problem, but I can’t solve the volume issue. How many units can we supply to a stockist, going on normal production rates?’ Liz looked along the board room table. As well as her, Ben and Sally, who was the Financial Director, Simon had joined them for the meeting, as had the rest of the Board: Andrea, the HR Director, and Eva, Head of Operations.
‘Presently, we turn out twenty-five barrels per quarter. That’s around 260 standard bottles per barrel,’ Simon clarified. ‘So, we’re looking at around 6,500 bottles per quarter, full capacity.’
‘That’s better than I expected.’ Liz tapped on her phone, using the calculator. ‘I’d anticipate they’d want more, though. And we have to bear in mind that we have to fulfil all of our other orders, as well as whatever other sales routes I open up. I’ve got to know that we can fulfil big orders if they come in – when they come in – so, can we make more than 26,000 bottles per year?’
‘It’s possible. We have the storage space, but it means that we have to put more into production. So, we’d need to hire a few more staff. And, obviously, it’s ten years after it goes to cask for anything new to be available,’ Simon interrupted.
‘Yes. But I think I’m right in saying that we have a backlog of existing product in the archive?’ Liz looked at her notes. ‘Sally provided me with these numbers.’ She flicked to a new slide on screen. ‘So, yes, if we commit to larger production numbers going forward, that will be reflected in future yield. But in the meantime, we can supply new sellers with our existing stock.’
‘That’s true,’ Simon assented.
‘All right, then. So, as I said, it’s a two-pronged attack. We get the big stores selling Loch Cameron Ten Year Old, and we also launch a new, more exclusive range that can reinvent us in the market as a desirable, cool brand, without losing any of our historic, high quality appeal. So, my question to you is, what should the focus of our new range be?’ Liz cast her eyes around the table.
There was a silence.
‘Well, it should be something that is relevant to Loch Cameron. Some local feature,’ Ben suggested. ‘The landscape – the loch, the water, and the local plants are so important to the taste of the whisky.’
‘Okay. I would say that a lot of newer distilleries are emphasising their organic ingredients, or new and more experimental brewing processes,’ Liz replied. ‘But we’re very traditional in that way. And we don’t use unusual ingredients, though they are locally sourced. I’m just not sure that’s enough to make us stand out.’
‘Okay, what then?’ Simon asked, pushing his cap back on his head.
‘I think it should be something based on local stories. Legends. People, even,’ Liz explained. ‘Customers love it when companies like ours invest in the legacy of our histories. We know that we’re perceived as a trusted, high-quality brand with a family legacy. So I think we should go with that angle, but make it modern and relevant in some way.’
‘Are you saying Loch Cameron is old-fashioned and irrelevant?’ Simon raised an eyebrow, looking amused. He glanced over at Ben. ‘Sounds like you’ve been judged, Douglas.’
‘That’s not what I meant at all,’ Liz insisted, firmly. She wasn’t going to let Simon railroad her presentation and bring it back to him and Ben’s rivalry.
‘I know you didn’t, Liz,’ Ben interjected, ignoring Simon. ‘I get what you’re saying. But it shouldn’t be about the Douglases. It should be about someone else, in the past. People who have been important in the development of the whisky, maybe. Or in the village.’
‘Yes. Exactly.’ Liz nodded, relieved that she hadn’t offended Ben, and that he seemed to be on her wavelength. ‘I don’t know who, but we can have more of a think about that. Everyone – that’s an invitation open to you, too,’ she added. ‘We need to bring Loch Cameron Distillery into the twenty-first century. And, ironically, we’re going to do it by bringing out something about its past.’
‘Okay. Thanks, Liz.’ Ben shot her a warm smile. ‘Let’s move on, but let’s all consider it a task for next week’s meeting to come with some ideas for the focus of our new range. I’m excited about that.’
Ben’s eyes stayed on Liz’s just a second longer than she expected, and a warm glow spread from her stomach into her whole body. There was a strange electricity that he seemed to elicit in her, and it didn’t seem to care whether they were in a board room with other people or alone on a windy hill, looking for herbs and wild flowers. Liz cleared her throat and sat down, breaking his gaze and looking down at her laptop.
Whatever it was that happened when Ben looked at her, it was confusing, and she didn’t need to be confused in the middle of the weekly meeting. She was here to do her job.
I’m not the kind of woman who gets flusteredin meetings, she scolded herself.Stop it. You’re acting like a schoolgirl.
Whatever it was that she was feeling, Liz didn’t welcome it. Her work was the one place that she could focus away from her emotions, and that had been the one thing that had kept her going for all this time. Feeling things at work – however pleasurable – was not an option. In the past months, it had been a relief to have some time in the day when she didn’t let herself feel anything at all.
But, as Ben continued to talk through the next point on the agenda, Liz found her eyes drawn to his face and his kind eyes; there was also something about his deep, well-spoken voice that she found immensely soothing. Liz realised that she had slightly tuned out from what Ben was actually saying, and was letting his voice flow over her, getting caught up in its smooth, masculine tone. She imagined lying next to Ben in bed, her head on his chest, listening to him talk. It was almost as if she could feel how resonant it would be, if she was lying so close to him, her legs tangled in his.
Dear lord, Liz,she berated herself, realising that she had retreated way into fantasy during a meeting – and a very inappropriate fantasy at that.Wake up!
