Chapter 16
JED
February arrived and made its presence felt with torrential rain and high winds battering the Yorkshire Coast from the early hours.
Although the wind had dropped by the time I left for work, the rain had intensified and the drive into Whitsborough Bay was a slow one.
My usual route was blocked by a fallen tree and the roads on the detour were strewn with debris.
I’d never been so grateful for the private parking spaces behind the gallery giving me access to the back door within a few metres. Anastasia’s car was there already.
I unlocked the back door and was surprised to find that, although the security alarm had been deactivated, the gallery was in darkness.
I called Anastasia’s name but there was no response so I assumed she’d taken a short cut through the gallery onto Castle Street.
There were only ten minutes left until opening time so I switched the lights on, set some music playing and retrieved the cash float from the safe.
As I was programming the float amount into the till, I spotted Anastasia emerging from The Chocolate Pot, a drink in each hand, and I unlocked the door.
‘Ooh, it’s wild out there,’ she said as I closed the door behind her. ‘We could be in for a quiet day.’
I glanced out at the rain bouncing off the cobbles. ‘Yeah, I wouldn’t come out in this if I didn’t have to.’
‘Latte for you,’ she said, handing me a drink. ‘And I got you one of these too.’
She passed me a paper bag from her handbag and I smiled at the millionaire’s shortbread inside. Tara made the best ones I’d ever tasted and my mouth was already watering.
‘Thank you. What do I owe you?’
‘Gosh, nothing! It’s my birthday so the treats are on me.’
‘Happy birthday! I didn’t realise. Are you doing anything special to celebrate?’
‘No plans. I’ve got nobody to celebrate with.’ She placed her drink on the counter. ‘I’ll just pop my bag upstairs. Back in a mo.’
We were big on celebrating birthdays in my family and I felt bad that I hadn’t realised it was Anastasia’s today.
I’d have written her a card and bought the drinks and treats if I’d known.
I glanced at the spinning rack of cards and shook my head.
I’d nip out at lunchtime and buy her one from Forget-me-not Cards three doors along from the gallery and get Tara to sign it too.
‘So, that’s January over,’ Anastasia said as she rejoined me. ‘Are you pleased with how it went?’
‘Yes. I don’t have a true comparison point but sales were better than I’d expected.’
‘I thought sales were brilliant. In any one week in January, you made about six times the figures Galley’s Gallery made in the whole of the month. In fact, in the space of two months, you’ve already passed their figures for the ten months they traded.’
‘Was it really that bad? I’ve seen Galley’s work. He’s very talented.’
‘If I’m honest, his paintings weren’t my cup of tea but he’s a gifted artist and I can understand why he’s so successful. Unfortunately, Whitsborough Bay was the wrong location for his work.’
Award-winning Liverpool-based artist Mason Galley was such an inspiration to someone like me.
He painted cityscapes and industrial settings which often included cartoon cats and dogs.
His style was the opposite to mine – dark colours and sharp lines compared to my bright colours and curves – and he’d had phenomenal success through his city-centre galleries although I could see what Anastasia was saying about Whitsborough Bay being a bad fit.
Galley’s settings wouldn’t have resonated with the people who lived or holidayed here, which was exactly the reason why I wanted to build my collections using local landmarks and settings.
‘It’s a pity it didn’t work out for him,’ I said. ‘I never like seeing a business fail. What was Galley like?’
Anastasia shrugged. ‘I never met him.’
‘He never came to the gallery? Not even for the opening or a new collection launch?’
She shook her head. ‘I think he was really hands off from the galleries. He had a team who managed it all for him so I saw them but never the man himself. You’ve got that part so right.
Customers love meeting the person behind the art and, if you’re not down here, they get a buzz from knowing you’re upstairs creating. ’
I got a lot from meeting customers myself, understanding which pieces they liked and why, where they displayed them, whether they chose pictures to match their colour scheme at home or whether it was the image itself or the message with it that drew them in.
‘Opening time!’ Anastasia turned the sign round and unlocked the door. ‘Brace yourself for the rush. If you want to go up to your studio, I’m happy to hold the fort.’
‘Not just yet. I want to discuss a couple of things first.’
‘Sounds ominous. You’re not going to fire me on my birthday, are you?’ She said it in a jovial tone with a smile on her face, but I could see the worry in her eyes.
‘Far from it,’ I assured her. ‘Firstly, I wanted to talk to you about social media. I know you’ve only posted on the account a handful of times but everything you’ve put has got much better traction than anything I’ve done. Do you like using the socials?’
‘Love it as long as I don’t have to appear in them. I hate having my photo taken. I’d have loved to do the socials for Galley but they wouldn’t let me. The account was run centrally and I sometimes got asked to send photos of the gallery, but I wasn’t allowed to post anything myself.’
‘That’s a shame, especially when you’re so good at it. If you had free rein here, what would you do?’
‘So many things! I’d do a mix of videos and stills, posts about the inspiration behind the pieces, footage of the real settings, stories about the crafters…’
I listened as Anastasia went into more detail and gave campaign ideas tied into particular dates and events.
‘You seem to know a lot about marketing and publicity. Is that what you did before you worked for Galley?’
To my shame, I didn’t know Anastasia’s background.
When Tara recommended her for the job here, saying she’d managed Galley’s Gallery previously, I’d invited her for an informal chat.
I’d explained that I couldn’t offer her a manager’s position but I would be looking for a Sunday manager/sales assistant if she’d consider that.
She said she’d be happy to take anything if it meant being surrounded by beautiful artwork all day.
We’d talked about her work ethic and how she dealt with customers and her answers had been strong so I’d offered her a full-time contract for December with the hours to be reviewed in January depending on how well the gallery did.
I hadn’t actually seen her CV – hadn’t needed to.
‘I’ve got a marketing degree,’ Anastasia said, ‘and my first job was at an art gallery in London doing the marketing and publicity. I did that for several years until I moved up here.’
‘Whitsborough Bay’s a bit different to London. How did you end up here?’
‘Usual story – followed a man here who promised the earth and didn’t deliver but it took me a long time to realise that he was the problem and not me.
I did think of moving back to London after it ended but, even though I’d fallen out of love with him, I’d fallen in love with Whitsborough Bay and couldn’t imagine living anywhere else. ’
‘I’m sorry it didn’t work out as you’d hoped.’
‘Life rarely does but, you know what, it often turns out even better. Or at least that’s what I keep telling myself.
As to whether it’s worked out better for me, jury’s still out although I can’t help thinking that’s my fault.
I don’t push myself forward for anything.
I tend to settle for whatever I’m given.
There’s nothing like a landmark birthday for a spot of reflection and I’ve decided that pushing myself forward is something I need to work on now that I’ve hit forty. ’
‘Strewth! So it’s not just any old birthday today – it’s the big four-o?’
‘It is, but don’t feel bad. Like I said, I don’t push myself forward for anything and not mentioning it’s my fortieth is classic me.’
‘I’m so sorry. I will get you a card at lunchtime and—’
‘Aw, Jed, there’s no need for that.’
‘There’s every need! But I have a birthday gift for you which, considering what you’ve just said, I think you might like.
It’s the second thing I wanted to talk to you about, although both are closely connected.
I love coming down here and I’d never stop doing that but this…
’ I swept my arm around the gallery, ‘…wouldn’t exist if I wasn’t upstairs creating.
My biggest buzz comes from sitting in front of an easel with my charcoals so I’d prefer to spend my days in my studio, only coming down to cover breaks and busy times.
What I definitely don’t want to do is spend loads of time on social media.
I know how important it is but it doesn’t excite me like it does you.
So how would you feel about a promotion to sales and marketing manager or marketing and publicity manager or whatever job title you prefer? ’
Anastasia’s jaw dropped and she grabbed my arm. ‘Are you for real?’
‘One hundred per cent. I need someone to do that stuff so I don’t have to.’ I handed her a piece of paper from under the counter. ‘It’s a proposed new job description. We can tweak the wording but it would be a salaried position and I hope you think that salary’s fair.’
Anastasia’s eyes glistened as she scanned down the page and, when she spoke, her voice was shaky. ‘Oh my word, Jed, this is too generous.’
‘The salary or the job offer?’
‘All of it.’
‘You deserve it. Would you like to accept?’
‘Would I ever? This is the best birthday present ever. Thank you so much. I won’t let you down. My head’s buzzing with ideas. Can you give me a week or so to pull together a strategy?’