Peter Saul and Mary Limited by Chris Jones - HTML preview

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Chris Jones

First published 2006 by Lulu.com © Chris Jones 2006
ISBN 978-1-84753-945-8

This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, re-sold, hired out, or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s prior consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.
For Miriam,

who is still surprised The characters in this book are entirely imaginary. If you’ve ever worked in an office you’ve probably met most of them.

Peter Saul and Mary Ltd is an entirely imaginary business too. In this UK edition it is also an obviously British company using British corporate vocabulary. For non-British readers it is probably worth noting that ‘Ltd’ is the UK equivalent of the American ‘Inc’ but specifically denotes a company whose stock is not traded on a public exchange. The officers of a UK company are Directors and hold Board meetings to formally manage the company. Mary is Finance Director in this novel; in an American edition she would become Vice President of Finance or Chief Financial Officer.

Chapter 1

Mary walked into the boardroom. In her immaculate business outfit, cut just tightly enough to hint at the figure beneath it, she looked every inch the modern female executive. She was in her early thirties, and her crisp workplace efficiency was tempered occasionally by just a hint of femininity. In the office anyway. Outside the office… well, that was another matter entirely.

She was in a good mood, for this promised to be an excellent boardmeeting. Profits were up, market-share was up. The others had not arrived yet, so she sat down, sorted out her papers, and then eyed up the contents of the picture-frames hanging on the panelling of the boardroom walls.

“Peter, Saul and Mary Ltd - Soulbrokers,” said one. “Our Mission: to become the leading supplier of souls to the soul-refining industry by the end of the second millennium.”

Three other frames contained portraits. “Mary Magdalene, Finance Director” read the inscription beneath the first. Her dark eyes looked back out at herself. A second offered “Peter Fisher, Operations Director” and showed a large round man, smiling but with disapproving eyebrows. As she turned to consider “Saul Tarsus, Marketing Director” the man himself stepped into the room.

“Morning Mary darling,” said Saul. Saul was tall, thin and elegantly clothed. “Insouciant” was his word for his particular style of dressing. “Camp” was nearer the mark, thought Mary to herself as usual. Saul favoured cravats in place of the more usual tie, and today’s was a particularly luminous pink.

“8:59am and 50 seconds, 51, 52…” intoned Saul. “At the third stroke, Peter will be here, precisely” and indeed, here was Peter, exactly on time as usual. He was followed by a small bearded man, dressed in a curiously old fashioned manner.

“Come on Moses, come on, you’re late. Morning all,” boomed Peter. “OK whose turn is to chair this one. Not mine I did it last time.”

 

“Mine, Peter, remember” said Mary. “I sent out the agenda, if you recall. OK, item number one, tablets of the last meeting. Any points?”

“Yes,” said Peter. “I really must insist that the tablets are issued within forty days and forty nights of the previous meeting. It’s simply unacceptable for it to be three or four months.”

“OK, OK. Moses, please try and be more prompt with the tablets of the meetings will you?”

“I expect to see it recorded formally on the tablets,” said Peter firmly. Moses nodded, head down, and scratched a note. “Company Secretary to issue all tablets within 40 days and 40 nights of board meetings” reinforced Peter. Moses nodded again, while the others winced perceptibly.

“I think we’ve got the point, Saint,” muttered Saul. “OK item two, financial report” interjected Mary hastily. “Basically things are pretty good. Profits for the generation stand at over twenty-five million Credos and…”

“I do hate these new Credo things,” interrupted Peter. “What was wrong with the good old Sestertii, I want to know?”

“Peter, you say that every time I present the figures. Since the government took us into the new single currency, it’s Credos, OK? 7.5382 Sestertii to the Credo. It’s really not that difficult is it?” said Mary, trying to be patient.

“I think the currency is rather beside the point actually,” said Saul, breaking in.

 

“What is the point then, if it isn’t that we’re doing really well?” asked Mary.

 

“Yes yes, we’re doing really well now, darling. But just look ahead a little. Why are we doing well now?”

“The Black Death,” said Peter.
“Exactly” said Saul. “Fantastic for business right now. Almost more souls than we can conveniently handle. But what about next generation? Since half the population of our dominant sectors will be dead, they won’t be breeding the next generation of souls, will they? There will be a lot less people, so there will be a lot fewer people to die. At least in areas where we have the main market share. Other parts of the globe will be doing fine apparently. But not us stuck in Europe, oh no. We’re going to have a big problem sooner than you think.”

“Actually, there are more souls than I can conveniently handle at the moment,” admitted Peter. “We’re having to take on temporary reaper-callscentre staff. Anyway, Saul, you’re right. We’ve got a problem. What are you going to do about it? How about another direct mail campaign? The last one you did went OK, I seem to remember.”

“Oh come off it, Saint darling,” replied Saul. “That sort of thing went out with the dark ages. Letters to the Corinthians might have been fine in the classical first century, but I can hardly see ‘Letter to the Londoners’ or ‘Letter to the Frankfurters’ being a success in the mediaeval age. Most of them can’t read, for one thing. No, I thought maybe a schism would be a good thing to go for.”

“A schism?” asked Mary. “I though they were rather old-fashioned too?”

“No, no, this is the perfect moment for a schism, don’t you see? As soon as they divide like that, each side has to prove it’s best by going off and winning new converts for the faith. Just what we need in the forthcoming depressed market. Always works, and never goes out of fashion. And we’ve not had one for nearly four hundred years, so there’s no danger of customer concept fatigue.”

“So then Peter, will you organise it?” said Mary. “Saul, you’ll provide the theological basis as usual I take it.”

“Yes, yes” boomed Peter. “Leave it to me, I know just how to run a schism. I don’t think you need bother yourself much, Saul. I can create a basis myself for something as simple as a schism.”

“OK, Moses, take to the tablets that Peter will organise a schism and report back to the next meeting” said Mary. “Now, item two, forthcoming investors’ meeting.”

“Who’s coming to this one?” asked Peter.

 

“Mrs Carpenter as usual…” began Mary. Saul groaned softly. “And the Pantheon Fund Manager’s Alliance are sending a representative.” “Who?” persisted Peter.

 

“The guy with the footwear problem, you know, what’s his name?” replied Mary.

 

“Mercury you mean?”

“He’s just a messenger” said Saul. “They always send him to break bad news to us. It’s not a good sign, probably means they’ve spotted the coming trends too.”

“Anyone from the soul-refiners?” asked Peter.

 

“Well, Beelzebub, the chairman of Hell Refining, said he might drop in.” “He just sits in the corner and smokes all the time” said Peter.

“It is pretty hot in the soul-refineries Saint. He just doesn’t have time to cool off. Anyway, it’s not certain he’ll turn up. After all profits are up, he’s getting a good return on his investment, as well as plenty of supplies to his refineries. You know what he’s like, only puts in an appearance when things are bad,” said Mary.

“Depends if he can see the evil times ahead. Any of the other refiners?” “Not heard. Anyhow, I’m planning to simply report to them that profits are up, we’re going to pay out an excellent dividend, so they’re all getting great returns on their money.”

“What if they ask questions about future trends?” demanded Saul. “Well, Peter’s schism should be well underway by then. He can deal with them. Can’t you Peter?” said Mary.

 

“Oh absolutely. Just leave it to me,” answered Peter.

 

The meeting continued on…

…“And that’s about it. Good meeting I thought” concluded Mary. “Just before we break up, I thought I’d mention I’ll be introducing my new financial controller to you tomorrow. I’ll bring him round to your offices.”

“What’s his name again?” asked Peter.

“Croesus. He was financial controller at Olympus Souls, until they closed down, and then he’s done a spell as FD with Four Horsemen. Of course they’re a pretty small outfit. Anyway you’ll meet him tomorrow, as I said. OK, meeting closed.”

Moses tidied up his tablets and left quickly. Peter, the keys clipped to his belt jangling noisily, left behind him promising to get right on with the schism. “Mary, dear, do you think Peter really knows how to do a schism? You know what he’s like. Charges at things like a lion at a christian.”

“Well, we’ll see won’t we? Honestly, he was so rude to Moses at the start of the meeting. He’s getting so insufferable I’d quite like to see him mess up the schism, even if it is bad for business. He needs taking down a peg” replied Mary

“Deflating, you mean” retorted Saul waspishly as he left the room.

 

Chapter 2

 

“Good morning Ms Magdalene” said the smart young man at the door of her office. He had a soft New England accent.

“Good morning Croesus and welcome to Peter, Saul and Mary! There’s really no need to call me Ms Magdalene, we’re very informal here, Mary will do just fine.”

“OK, good morning Mary then!”

“Lovely. Look, I thought we’d start with ‘the tour’, show you around, meet Peter and Saul, understand the organisation. How does that sound?” asked Mary.

“Just great Ms Magd…err, yes great. Lead on”.

“OK, we’ll start upstairs in Operations. Follow me. Peter Fisher is Director of Operations. Everyone calls him ‘Saint’, you’ll see why after you’ve dealt with him for a bit. And we call his floor ‘heaven’, although only behind his back of course. It’s mostly a big call centre, hell to work in.” Mary headed out of her office and up the stairway to heaven.

They went in. The floor was almost entirely open plan, filled with endless rows of desks. Each desk contained a computer terminal and a telephone, and seated behind it was a generally bored looking operative. They listened into a call as they passed.

“Peter Saul and Mary Ltd Ann speaking how may I help youuuuu?” said the operator in one breath. “You’ve died and you want your soul taken off your hands right away? Fine, just give me the name, house number and postcode… You’re in Spain, OK just the address will do then… No problem Senor Felipe, a soulminer will be out to you right away… Oh less than ten minutes usually… Yes, yes straight to heaven, we’ve logged your details, the database says you’ve been more than good enough to qualify fine for a place …Our pleasure, thank you for choosing christianity, goodbye”.

“They do that all day and all night. Boring as hell. Anyway, here’s Peter’s office, let’s go in” said Mary.

 

“What would happen if they ever imagined there’s no heaven?”

 

“It’s easy if they try” answered Mary. “But it hasn’t occurred to any of them yet, thankfully.”

 

“No hell below them?” persisted Croesus.

“Above us only sky. And three bedrooms. Will you stop trying to flog me a ground floor apartment with two rooms and find me a proper holiday home?” said Peter crossly into his mobile as they entered. “Excuse me. Morning Mary, and you must be Croesus. Welcome to Operations” he continued putting the phone down on his immaculately tidy desk. “Sorry, having a spot of difficulty trying to find a holiday home now the third child’s come along. Never enough bedrooms in these country cottages. And they always seem to offer us ground floor apartments, when I can’t stand having anyone above me.”

“Too right” said Mary. Peter glanced at her sharply.

“Right, Croesus this is Operations, where it all happens” began Peter enthusiastically. “Split into four departments. First we have the reaper-callscentre which you’ve just come through. Guy dies, his (or her) body puts a call through to get rid of the soul before the body can participate in any kind of death rites. Reaper-calls-centre operator gets the details, and the job is automatically passed down to the next department. Come with me.” Peter headed on down to the far end of the floor, where the telephone activity was less hectic and the desks more widely spaced.

“Not much to see here, just a few managers, most of the staff are out on the job. Anyway, this is Soulmining, the heart of Operations. Soulminer goes out, traps the soul, and brings it back to Logistics. Finally he calls into the reapercentre again to confirm the collection. Hi Guys, say hello to Croesus, our new financial controller!” boomed Peter to the small group of staff. When they had finished exchanging introductions, Peter headed on again through a door and down a flight of steps. For such a fat man, he can move surprisingly quickly, thought Mary.

They stopped briefly in another office on the ground floor. “Special Operations on Earth” announced Peter. “Busy planning the implementation of this schism right now of course” as an aside to Mary. “By the way, you don’t know if Saul has the files from when he did that orthodox one do you?” They headed out.

“Finally Logistics, which is in that building over there” Peter declaimed, with a broad sweep of his hand. “On you come.” They headed over to a rather small building. “A lot of security needed of course. Souls are trapped in gem-crystals for shipment. All rather valuable”. He pressed his palm to a scanner, took a key from the bunch clipped to his belt, and inserted it into a small lock. The doors opened silently. Inside were rows of shelving, packed with small coloured gemstones. “We stone code them, and then ship them in bulk to the soulrefiners. Sapphire: died young – refines into higher grade Essoul you know; emerald: pretty nasty, probably not suitable for recycling, refining-only grade; diamond: was famous or suchlike, quite often their souls get employment at the refiners instead of being refined, that’s how I started incidentally; ruby: died in war so the soul is pretty low-grade, we mostly flog them to the Valhalla refinery, they specialise in low-grade souls; garnet: standard class, and so on.” Peter boomed on, apparently without needing to draw breath. “And there you have it. Operations. The heart of the soul business. I organised it all of course. We win awards for most efficient soulbroking operations department most centuries.”

“Very impressive” said Croesus. “It’s all much more advanced than we had at Olympus.”

“Thanks Peter, it all looks great as usual,” said Mary. “We’ll go see Saul’s team now. Good luck with the holiday home. This way Croesus, back to the main building. Let’s take the road to Damascus” she continued, leading the way back.

“Saul is Marketing Director, as you know” said Mary as they headed for the first floor. “He does…,” well perhaps he should tell you himself. They went in, and over to an office decorated with frescoes.

“Hi Saul, meet Croesus!”

“Croesus, how delightful to have you with us darling” exclaimed Saul, considering Croesus from head to toe. His gaze lingered a fraction too long before he continued “and welcome to Marketing”. Saul’s cravat today was lilac, to match his spats. They clashed rather badly with the fresco on the back wall.

“Tell him what you do Saul” prompted Mary.

“Ah, she thinks we’re just airy-fairies in here, don’t you Mary? Thinks we do nothing really. Not grounded in reality like you nice boys”, he paused meaningfully, “and girls in Finance”.

“Come on Saul, do get to the point.”

“I was” pouted Saul. “Oh OK, I’ve got three teams. Firstly there’s D&T, that’s Doctrine and Theology. Pretty standard stuff, I guess you had the same kind of thing at Olympus.”

“Oh yes, although the doctrines at Olympus were nowhere near as sexy as here” answered Croesus, looking Saul firmly in the eye.

“Really? Oh come, come, you flatter us. Anyway, we were developing this schism, but Peter seems to have hijacked it all for himself,” said Saul. “Then there’s Research. We try to find new concepts the punters will like. We’re working on one now to stop them moaning when Peter can’t process them fast enough. You might have heard we’ve got a capacity problem at the moment. I’m having to send my lads and lasses over to Peter’s to learn about his problems.”

“Sounds like purgatory” said Mary.

“Yes, that’s what we thought,” said Saul. “Anyway, lastly there’s Technology. We study possible technologies to introduce to the punters which might help us win market share. We’re looking at two at the moment.”

“What are they?” asked Croesus.

“Not sure I should tell you darling” said Saul. “But since you seem to be such a nice chap, I’ll risk it. We’re considering Printing and Ocean-Going Sailing. Printing might help us spread the word. The trouble is it might help everyone else spread their words too. OGS is so we can get the punters out winning converts in new lands, amongst the heathens. It’s a bit double edged as well, though. What if the heathens sail back and convert our guys? Anyway, we’re looking into it.”

Peter loomed suddenly in the doorway. “Hi Saul, have you got the files from when you did the orthodox schism?”

“What files? It was all improvisation darling. Ninety percent inspiration and a mere ten percent perspiration. Pure Marketing. And we didn’t write any of it down, since you ask.”

“How can we run a professional business like this? I really don’t think it’s acceptable. Mary, can we have this on the agenda at the next Board meeting?” huffed Peter.

“Oh Saint, you’re so judgmental” answered Mary sadly.

 

“Are you coming for a drink tonight Mary?” asked Saul, changing the subject hastily.

 

“No I can’t. Got to leave early.”

 

“Date?” enquired Peter.

 

“Yes” answered Mary tersely. “I think this guy could be the one.”

 

“Oh come on” said Saul. “You’ve had so many men before.” “In very many ways” chipped in Peter. Mary flushed angrily.

 

“He’s just one more!” teased Saul. “Do we know him?” “Maybe” answered Mary.

 

“She’s not telling” cried Saul. “Must be serious. And at your age too!”

 

“How about you Croesus, you joining us for a drink later?” asked Peter hurriedly, eyeing Mary’s expression.

 

Croesus hesitated.

 

“Oh go on” urged Saul, giggling. “We might learn something.”

“Come on Croesus,” said Mary. “Let’s go look at Finance and leave these two bickering about the filing. See you guys!” They headed back to the Finance Department.

“This is Midas, he’s Head of Treasury. Be careful how you shake his hand.” Croesus extended his hand gingerly, but nothing too dramatic seemed to happen as Midas took it. “Must be losing your touch Midas,” observed Mary. “Anyway this is the credit department”

“Credit?” asked Croesus.

“Yes. Somebody wants to mortgage his soul, Credit arrange it for him. Peter keeps wanting to move it into Operations, we’ve had endless battles over it. Here’s Aesop who manages it. He can spot someone who really wants to sell his soul from a spinner of fake fables at 50 paces. Real talent for undertaking underwriting, our Aesop here.”

“And here’s your team Croesus” finished Mary. I’ll leave them to you for now, and catch you again later. “Good luck”.

Mary sat at a corner table for two in the rather chic restaurant that, curiously enough (she smiled slightly to herself), was just a stone’s throw from her elegant apartment. Her dress had been chosen to set off the colour of her eyes and the black shininess of her long hair to perfection. Or so the shop assistant had attempted to flatter her into buying it. Actually, it had been chosen to display the maximum of cleavage to her dinner guest without obviously being indecent. She looked, in her own opinion, ravishing, which was consistent with her plans for how the evening would end.

Her date was a handsome man of vaguely south-asian appearance. He was talking, as he seemed to have done slightly too much this evening, about his business. Not that he didn’t deserve to of course. Where Peter Saul and Mary was largely set up with other peoples’ money, Gautama had created his brokers single-handedly starting with just a modest legacy from his father. He owned the lot himself. And being based around the huge Asian markets, it was a major player.

“So you see Mary,” he was saying, “you really should be looking to move over to recycling. It’s so much more profitable, and much more environmentally friendly. None of that nasty nuclear-chemistry-set business at the refineries. One day there’s going to be a big disaster at one of the plants, and then where will we all be? Why don’t you talk to your marketing guy about it?”

“I don’t know, Gautama, I really can’t see Saul being able to work reincarnation in with our current doctrines right now. It’ll have to be a long term project.”

The evening was not going completely as she had planned. Gautama had chosen the vegetarian options with every course, and was now picking fastidiously at his mango sorbet as they talked. Still, he was a very attractive man, even leaving aside all incidental thoughts of his enormous fortune. Just not very… red-blooded.

“I’ll talk to him. Anyway, tell me more about yourself Gautama. What do you get up to when you’re not working?” She leaned forwards a little, aiming to improve his view.

“Meditation mostly, Mary. I like to contemplate the circle of life and seek inner harmony.”

 

“Oh. I see. Nothing more… exciting? A gorgeous guy like you must be very successful with the girls?”

Gautama finished his sorbet, apparently pondering how to answer this. Just in time, a waiter appeared at their table. “Would you like coffee madam, coffee sir?”

“I don’t drink stimulants,” replied Gautama, “although if you have any herbal teas I might have one.”

 

“Just the bill please,” said Mary. “I thought maybe we could have coffee at my place, Gautama. It’s only a couple of minutes away.”

 

“Oh, well, er no, I really have a very early start in the morning.” He looked at his watch. “I’ll get the check. And I’ve arranged a car to take you home.”

“That’s fine, I can walk from here” she answered rather coldly. Then she collected herself. He was really very attractive. And rich. “I’ll speak to Saul about the reincarnation. Maybe we could have dinner again and discuss it. Why don’t you choose somewhere?” Maybe he’d be less uptight on his home territory, she thought.

“Yes yes, Mary I’d like that. Thank you for a great evening. Excuse me waiter, my car’s not due for about 10 minutes, is there somewhere quiet I could sit and meditate briefly?”

Mary bade him goodnight, and left.
They were assembling in the board-room for the investors meeting. Peter and Mary were just sitting down when Saul appeared. Today he had chosen a purple cravat, to match the colour of the huge black-eye he had acquired over the weekend. Mary raised an eyebrow.

“Went over to the festival in Tennessee for a couple of days” explained Saul.

 

“He met a bar-room queen in Memphis” amplified Peter.

 

“Spilt my G&T all over him actually,” added Saul.

“So you met a gin-soaked bar-room queen in Memphis?” confirmed Mary. Saul nodded. “And tried to take him upstairs for a ride?” she persisted. Saul nodded again ruefully.

“He had to heave him right across his shoulder,” said Peter.

“Yes, slung me out and gave me this enormous bruise to go with it. I just can’t seem to drink it off my mind. Hung-over as hell darlings. Never try to pull a bouncer,” concluded Saul sagely. “Virginia darling, good morning!” This to a prim, middle-aged woman, dressed in a blue twinset, who had appeared in the doorway escorted by Moses.

“That’s Mrs Carpenter to you, Saul” she snapped back.

“Yes Mrs Carpenter. Of course Mrs Carpenter. Do have a seat” finished Saul silkily, heading round with an oversolicitous manner to pull back a chair. “Is Mr Carpenter not joining us?”

“No, Joseph is busy today. How did you get that bruise? Been messing around trying to love the wrong neighbours again?” she asked sarcastically. Saul muttered something inaudible. He was saved from finding a more coherent response by the entry of a youngish man with shoulder length pale blond hair, clad in a startling white tuxedo. The overall effect was rather spoiled by his sandals.

“Good morning Mercury” boomed Peter. “What brings you here today?”

“Just a flying visit Peter. Morning Saul, morning Mary, morning Mrs C. The boys wanted me to come over and get the story about this rather worrying trend you have at the moment. We can discuss it in the meeting. Is anyone else coming?” There was something faintly Italian about his accent.

“Just Beelzebub, we think Merc,” answered Mary.

As if conjured up by the mention of his name, a cloud of expensive cigar smoke, followed by Beelzebub, chairman of Hell soul-refineries, made its way into the room. Beelzebub was a large man, fatter looking even than Peter, although with Beelzebub Mary had a sneaking suspicion it was all muscle. One day I’ll find out personally, she promised herself, especially if things don’t start going better with Gautama. He wore a check shirt, slightly baggy jeans, large cowboy boots with particularly outsize spurs curiously moulded into the leather of the heels, and a huge Stetson hat, which he never removed. It seemed to float just fractionally higher than his head.

“Howdee. Nice t’see y’all!”

 

“Morning Bubba” chorused Peter, Saul and Mary.

 

They all sat down, and the meeting began. It was Peter’s turn to take the chair.

“Every one got a copy of the agenda from Moses?” he asked. They all nodded. As Company Secretary it was Moses’ job to prepare the agendas for the Investors Meetings. As usual with his agendas, there were ten points.

“Point one, everyone happy with the tablets from the last meeting?” There were nods around the table. Moses etched a note.

“Point two, current financial returns. Mary, would you take the floor please?” said Peter. He’s at his most pompous in these things, thought Mary. Always sucking up to Mercury and Beelzebub in particular, try to play the bigbusinessman with them.

“Well, we’ll be paying an exceptionally good dividend to investors this generation…” she began.

“That’s just the point though, isn’t it?” interrupted Mercury. “The boys asked me to pass on the message that we’re worried. It’s all very well producing exceptional results from the Black Death, but what about future returns?”

“I’m sure they’ll be fine” boomed Peter.

 

“Is there any evidence that the Black Death was paid for by Sonny & Shia?” asked Mrs Carpenter suddenly.

 

“You mean, to depopulate Europe so they can move in on the territory?” asked Saul. “No, no, we’ve found no evidence at all.”

 

“You mean you haven’t looked, Saul, don’t you?” demanded Mrs Carpenter.

 

“I’ve got a new guy just joined us from Four Horsemen” said Mary brightly. “I could ask him if he knows anything about it.”

 

“Action to Mary for the minutes please, Moses” said Peter plu