Reaching Out To The City Lights...Chapter Nine

After a three or so years’ hiatus, interruption, detour or whatever it was, finally my life was my own. I was living alone as I had wanted to do when first moving to Brisbane. I loved having my own place and space for just me and Sasha, my spirited ginger cat of whom I got custody, of course. It was a given, where I went, he went. Like the flat Dawn and I’d shared in Toowong, my New Farm abode was part of a whole house. Mrs. Smith, my new elderly landlady, had converted the rear section of her home into a reasonably large, private one-bedroom flat/apartment. It possessed a well-laid out kitchen, a large lounge room, bathroom with full bath as well as shower recess and a large bedroom that opened out to a small balcony with four or five stairs leading down to the backyard that flowed onto a wide well-manicured bank of the Brisbane River. From my bedroom, I could see across the expanse of the river to Hawthorne, a suburb on the other side of the waterway. At night, I left the French doors open so I could enjoy the atmosphere of the lights of the river traffic together with the luminosity from the buildings and homes across the way dancing on the water like phosphorescence, while resplendent and interruptive in the night sky, brazenly in competition with the stars.

Mrs. Smith was rarely at home, spending most of her time in Papua New Guinea visiting her brother where he had lived for many years. Her abundant rose bushes and their magnificent array of colourful blooms, not only turned the front garden into a kaleidoscopic spectacle matching an artist’s palette with their breathtaking display, but they also enhanced every vase and empty container in my new home. Mervyn was happy. I was happy. Sasha settled into his new surroundings without a backward glance.

The outside world was changing on the business-front, and had altered in the lives of my boss and his wife, as well. A couple of years after Gavin was born, along came his baby brother, Andrew James. John and Shirley moved from their apartment in Kangaroo Point into the new home they built in Kenmore, a western suburb. Both boys became part of my world and I, a part in theirs.

Everything started to move at a rapid rate of knots. The search for our replacement premises came to an end with the discovery of a newly-constructed building in Fortitude Valley, an inner city suburb, only a few kilometers from the CBD. The new building suited our requirements. There was room within it for a large warehousing area with loading ramp, two large showrooms, one L-shaped, both able to be divided off into two smaller areas if and when necessary, a general office area to amply fit four work stations including filing cabinets etc., an accommodating staff room, four generously-sized offices, plus a spacious reception area to hold a lengthy front desk, receptionist, sofas and visiting clients, together with parking for six vehicles on ground, some undercover.

An architect-interior designer was hired. I hardly saw John Trimmer during those days as he was busily instructing him on the desired interior lay-out, meeting with telecommunications’ people, painters, office and warehouse-fitters, plumbers, electricians and whoever else was necessary to achieve the successful completion of the new home for the Kolotex Group of Companies and its increasing family.

Four sales representatives were hired. Well, actually, two. Ken and Charles, the two young men who had replaced Barry were promoted into the roles of representatives to sell the company’s products to the trade. Charles’ territory spread from Mackay to Cairns in far north of Queensland, out west to Mount Isa and all areas in between. Ken’s territory started in Brisbane, extending up to Rockhampton and all areas west. Ron, based in Inverell, a country town in New South Wales, covered all of the northern, eastern and western areas of New South Wales. The Gold Coast and suburban areas of Brisbane were handed to Ian. Paddy, an Irishman (how would you have guessed!) was hired as head store-man with two junior charges. Isabel managed the Glo International Handbags and Accessories. Mr. Cam Head and his wife Myrtle joined our employ as manager and assistant in the men’s and women’s clothing section of Rogtex. Mr. and Mrs. Head were always referred to as “Mr. and Mrs.” A young receptionist, Dale, adorned the reception area. Direct behind the reception area was my new office. Alongside my office was Mr. Trimmer’s office. The Heads shared an office between John Trimmer’s office and the Rogtex showroom. Isabel’s office was down the corridor, around a corner, nearby to the Glo International showroom. Kolotex Hosiery used either one of the showrooms when required. Two young ladies occupied two of the desks in the General Office area. The other desks were for the sales representatives and consultants when they were in-office. Pam remained our hosiery consultant.

When we opened our doors in 28 Baxter Street, Fortitude Valley, our original staff count of two had increased to sixteen.

Everyone was eagerly waiting in the wings as the interior of the premises was being put into shape. We’d hired the young receptionist before the rest of the clerical staff, who came later, once we’d moved lock, stock and barrel into our new “home”. As soon as the telephone lines were installed into the building, Dale was set in place, even though she would be surrounded by painters, electricians, tarpaulins, ladders and other work equipment. The architect, who was a very tall man of around 6 feet 7 inches in height, was present every day, too. One morning during this hectic time, John Trimmer came running into the Queen Street office where I was still ensconced holding the fort up that end of town. He was flustered, his normally tidy hair out of place. His face flushed, angrily he tossed his suit coat on one of the chairs in front of my desk. Growling rather loudly, he raged about our new young receptionist. Our “big kahuna” in the Sydney office had rung John, and Dale, still not familiar with the new-fangled switchboard and phones tried to connect John Trimmer to the big boss in Sydney, but somehow managed to connect him to one of the painters, instead! John never did see the funny side of it until years later. All I could do was laugh, because I could picture the scene vividly. I could clearly see John ranting and raving not caring who was within earshot, while the painters tried to become invisible, one having a conversation with Paul Kornmehl in Sydney, and John talking to one of the shopfitters. Meanwhile, the long and lanky architect, Ed Devenport was trying to minimize his height and presence in a corner, failing miserably!

The New Year was drawing close. So was the opening of our joint marketing venture. Stocks of clothing, hosiery and handbags were arriving daily by the truckloads. The little city office was looking forlorn and bare as the shining new offices were gradually being completed and fitted with new furniture and equipment. New carpet and tiles covered the floors. I went with John to an office equipment store to choose my spanking new desk, which ended up bigger than his! Drapes were hung. Concertina doors fitted to enable the showrooms to be divided when appropriate.

We were ready, straining at the bit. I was the last to leave the city office, saying a fond farewell as excitedly I looked to the future.

To be continued.....(I hope I'm not boring you all!)