Maxine escaped the hustle and bustle of the conference centre before anyone else could congratulate her on the rambling speech that she’d just given. She felt exhausted from the ordeal and was just glad that it was all over.

Once she was sitting alone in her car, Maxine calmed down and tried to compose her thoughts in preparation for the drive to Banbury and the meeting that would follow. She felt a lot happier with one-on-one encounters. The event today was going to be not only the first but also the last if she had any say in the matter.

Maxine arrived in Banbury with almost an hour to spare before her meeting so she took the opportunity to put some electrons into her car’s battery and to grab a coffee and sandwich at the Café in the adjoining Supermarket.

Her phone had been bleeping almost incessantly during the drive from Birmingham. Most were texts from people thanking her for her speech but one stood out like a sore thumb. I was from a reporter on a daily newspaper who was asking about getting an interview with her.

That particular newspaper was well known for ‘kicking people while they were down’. That was partially down to the rating war that they were engaged in with other tabloids but this particular one had swung very much to the right of centre in recent years. People like her were regarded as cannon fodder in their ‘get readers at all costs’ war with other papers.

Maxine started to key in a response to the request for an ‘in depth’ interview but something at the back of her mind stopped her from sending it. The words that she had used so far in her text would have been interpreted as being more like a red rag to a bull than anything sensible.

When she had time to think a bit more, Maxine knew that she had to forward the text to Morag and Kim. She was assuming that the interview would be about her work for the Garth Samson Foundation. If it wasn’t then there was a baseball bat right by the front door of her house just in case they came calling. Whatever it was, a sense of foreboding fell over her. In her mind, any attention from the press was unwelcome. It was ok for the likes of Kylie Jenner to mouth off about trans people. She had her clan and a few billion dollars behind them. Maxine was very much on her own compared to those super-rich numpties.

She followed up the text to Morag with another one asking either her or Kim to deal with it and also how had this reporter been allowed to attend the conference when it was intended for potential beneficiaries of grants from the foundation and as far as she knew, the press was, not on that list.

Once she’d sent it, she began to feel a bit guilty for ranting like that so she sent another one apologising for the rant.

Just before she left the Supermarket car park, her phone went ‘bleep’. There was a text from Kim.
“Don’t worry about the ranting. You are right. We didn’t invite any members of the press and especially this one. He and I have crossed swords before. I’ll deal with him.”

Maxine relaxed and sent a brief “Thx” back to Kim. Then she turned her thoughts towards her next meeting and how it had all come about following a discussion that she’d had with Michel about their power needs now that they were soon to be neighbours. She had done some research into the sort of technologies that she would soon be seeing in action but there was a nagging feeling that it would all be overkill for their collective needs.

She dismissed those doubts until after the meeting in the hope that all her questions would be answered. It was at times like these that Maxine missed having Adrian around to bounce ideas off of.

---

“My name is Maxine Forsythe and I’m here to see Mr Bromley. He is expecting me,” said Maxine when she drove up to the housing development on the outskirts of Banbury.

The man at the gate consulted his list. He returned a smile when he saw her name on his list.

“Ah yes, Ms Forsythe, you are on the list. Do you have a hard hat with you?”

For half a second, his question threw her but then she understood what it was all about.

“No, I don’t.”

“Stay there. I’ll get you one. Site rules insist that you wear one. Don’t forget to return it when you leave.”

Maxine smiled at the man who disappeared into the small cabin that served as the site entrance office.

He soon returned with a white plastic hat.

“Safety regulations require you to wear this whenever you are not in your car or inside one of the portacabins.”

“Thanks, I’ll make sure to return it when I leave.”

"Please drive over to the double-height portacabin and park next to the black Volvo. Mr Bromley’s office is right there.”

“Thanks a lot,” said Maxine.

She took the hard hat and drove the short distance to the large group of Portacabins. For once, she was glad to have worn trousers instead of the normal skirt or dress that she preferred. Before leaving the car, she changed her shoes into something more suitable for a building site. A pair of well-worn black lace-up boots would have to do. At least the place wasn't a sea of mud like so many sites around her home in Reigate were thanks to the recent heavy rains.

Maxine got out of her car and put the White Hat on her head. She saw several different colours of 'hard hats' around the site. She wondered if there was a colour coding system in place.
She didn’t have much time to ponder about the various hard-hat colours as a door to the Portacabin opened and a man with a purple hard hat emerged. He made a beeline for Maxine.

“Mrs Forsythe? I’m Paul Bromley. Welcome to our site.”

"Thanks, Mr Bromley. Please call me Maxine. Mrs Forsythe is so formal."

"Welcome, Maxine. I'm Paul. I gather that you are interested in our development here. Are you looking for a three or four-bed house? We only have a few left unreserved in the current release.”

Maxine smiled.
"I'm not here to look at the houses. I'm more interested in the technology being used in them to make them carbon neutral. I read an article about how you were trialling several technologies that reduce the carbon footprint of the build."

“Are you a journalist by any chance?”

Maxine laughed and shook her head.

"Believe me, Paul, when I encounter a journalist, I run for the hills. Most of them are just out to dig dirt on people and spread it without even pausing to consider the impact of their actions."

It was the turn of Paul to smile.
“What is your ultimate aim if you don’t mind me saying so?”

“There are two parts to my project. The first is to gain total control over my energy use and consumption. The second is a bigger and, a more longer-term thing in that I'm looking at improving the complete energy footprint of the local supply chain where I am going to live. That second one might sound like some politicians wish-list, but with the right investments, I have already reduced the carbon footprint of a fifty-room hotel by sixty per cent. Therefore, I'm looking at taking some of the things that you are doing here and adapting them firstly for my personal use and then hopefully to use that as a showcase for others to see what is possible.”

Paul nodded his head and smiled.

“I can see that we do have very similar goals but in different fields. Let me give you the grand tour but without the sales pitch waffle if that is ok with you?”

“Lead on. Please don’t mind if I ask silly, stupid or obvious questions. I won’t get offended if you tell me to my face that what I’m asking about is impossible.”

"I think I get you. Let me show you the technology that we are putting into each house to make them zero-emission buildings."

[one hour later]
“That’s the end of the grand tour. I hope it has been useful?”

“Very much so, thanks. I had a lot of grand ideas that I now see are clearly impossible at the current time but very well might not be so in a few years. Some of the technology that you are putting into these houses is impressive, and I can use a lot of it as it is. This site is a beacon of light in a sea of mediocrity when you look at the 'little boxes' that the other builders are throwing up all over the place. Thanks for spending the time.”

“From your questions, you seem to have the whole project already mapped out in your mind.”

“Nearly but what I’ve seen today has been very, very useful indeed but as I said, some of what I want to do is currently impossible so there will have to be a re-think.”

“I’m glad that I have helped at least in a small way to spread the word of what we are doing here.”

“Thanks for your time. Perhaps I can repay you in some small way?”

“We aren’t allowed to take gratuities from potential suppliers.”

“I’m hardly a potential supplier to you, am I?”

Maxine opened her purse and took out a business card. It was for the Hotel in Devon.

“There is a fully inclusive two-night stay waiting for you and your wife. Just give them a call and mention my name. I own a third of the place, and they keep a room reserved for me. This is the same Hotel that I mentioned earlier. That is yours if you want it. What the bosses don't know about, they can't object. If you give it about six months, then you can call it a reverse fact-finding trip. You played host to me then, it will be my time to play host to you. Can't say fairer than that, can we, eh?”

“Maxine, as I said, I’ll have to think about it.”

"Please do so. What you are doing here should be hammered home to the major builders. If they come on board, then we might see some real changes in the homes that get built in the future."

“That I can agree with.”

"Thanks for your time, Paul. I'll drop my hard hat off at the gate. Good luck with the work here and in the future."

"Thanks for coming, Maxine. I guess I won't be reading about your project in the papers then?"

“Not if I can help it, you won't, but there may come a time when I can't avoid the attention of the press.”
As she said that, she shuddered as she remembered her performance from earlier that day.

Maxine got in her car and drove away from the building site a very happy woman. The plan that she’d dreamed up just before Adrian had died was looking more promising by the day, but if there was one lesson to come out of the site visit, and that was 'Rome wasn't built in a day. She would have to try hard not to rush into things and end up paying the price. Otherwise, her use of the 'I want it now' would end up applying to her. If she was going to do what she'd outlined to Paul, it was going to take a lot longer than she had even dreamed about as a worst-case scenario.

---

“The ‘superstar’ returns then?” said Cliff as Maxine appeared in the office the following morning.

“I returned home early yesterday evening if you must know. My appointment in Banbury proved to be very helpful indeed.”

“Oh yeah? How?”

“First things first. Have you made the coffee yet?”

"I think that there is a cup left in the pot. There isn't any milk though. Someone forgot to get some when they said that they would. I wonder who that might be eh?"

“Ok, ok, you don’t have to rub it in. I’ll go and get some.”

Cliff grinned.
“Don’t bother, I brought a litre in with me.”

“Thanks’ Cliff, you are a star.”

Maxine poured herself a mug of coffee and sat down at her desk.

“Well?” asked Cliff after more than a minute.

“The ‘Well’ is that I have found the solution to all the energy needs for not only myself but for Michel and Delphine.”

“How much will it all cost?”

Maxine laughed.
"Ever the bean counter then, Cliff?"

He shook his head.
"No, I'm just being realistic. Any solution to going 'off grid' will cost some money. It all depends on how much that 'some' is."

"In this case, for me, it is about sixty thousand. For Michel, it would be slightly less. Most of the difference is down to labour costs."

"It is worth it? Is it worth spending that sort of money? What is the rate of return?"

"Did you get out of the wrong side of the bed today?"

"Come on, Maxi, you know very well what I'm on about. What is the total cost of ownership? Have you done the cost-benefit analysis?"

"I have, and you darn well know it. Why don't you run the figures and tell me the bad news? I’m going to Wimbledon when I have finished this coffee. I have an appointment at midday. One thing to remember is that I'm thinking long term here. None of your five-year ROCI, this, will be more like twenty years.”

Cliff glared at Maxine. Then the glare turned to a smile. He knew that she’d already run the figures and was asking him to validate her findings.

As she finished her coffee, Cliff did run her new costs through the model that she’d created a few months earlier.

“Ok, ok, you were right. It will work over seven years.”

“That’s our benchmark for this sort of project, isn’t it?”

“Can a dog bark?” remarked Cliff.

“Then we are good to go then?”

"So far, we are but, who is going to manage the checks and balances when you are in Devon? You know that when I'm done here, I'm done."

Maxine looked at Cliff with a stern face.
“Is that you or your wife talking?”

“No comment,” replied Cliff.

“What are you going to do when you do hang up your blue pen?”

“No comment.”

"Cliff, I'm serious. You need a plan for your retirement and not just moving somewhere else. That won't keep you occupied for more than about six months, and you know it."

"Yes, teacher!"

"I am very serious, Cliff. You know what happened to your father when he retired. After little more than sixty rounds of golf, he keeled over on the 12th tee. That was his life. As you don't play golf, what are you going to do?"

“I know Maxi, and as you well know, it is something that I have been putting off for years."

“Then you are not retiring until you have a plan.”

“Is this change of heart just so that you don’t have to find a partner?”

"No, it isn't, but I was talking to Garth. He has his exit plan. A major part of that was moving to Norfolk and getting married again. He looks happier and more contented than ever with his life. He’s the yardstick I’m going to measure you by, ok?”

Cliff smiled back at Maxine. He knew that she had his best interests at heart. She had promised Adrian that she’d lookout for him when it came to his retirement.

---

Maxine walked into the Dress Shop in Wimbledon in good spirits. The owner, Emma Francis, was busy fitting a wedding dress on a client.

"Go on through to the back, Maxine and make yourself a drink. I'll be done here in about twenty minutes."

The client said,
“Ouch!”

“Miss! Sorry, but I did ask you to stay still. If you keep on moving, then there is no way that I can get this hem straight.”

"It just does not feel right, and besides, I look fat in this," complained the customer.

"If I recall correctly, your Mother did suggest that you wore a corset, but you were having none of that."

“I’m not having my baby squashed into nothing!”

Maxine took this moment to disappear into the workroom at the back of the shop and put the kettle on. From where she stood, the client going to be a real PITA. She admired Emma’s patience and determination.

While she waited for the kettle to boil, she went in search of the dress that she was going to wear for her mother’s wedding to Sally Jameson that weekend.

It didn’t take her long to find it hanging on the rail marked ‘final fitting’. As it was covered in a plastic sheath, she refrained from taking it down. She did let out a sigh and adjusted her waist clincher a little bit.

Maxine had originally wanted a 'dropped waist' dress for the event. That would hide her lack of a proper waist, but Emma had twisted her arm enough to make her choose a more fitted look. Sadly, that meant either wearing a corset or a waist clincher. Whist Maxine, had been tempted by the figure that Delphine was developing, she didn't have someone like Michel to lace her up every day. Without help, she just found the whole thing tiresome, frustrating and pointless. The corset that Adrian had got specially made for her now languished in her bottom drawer and there it was going to stay, for the foreseeable future.

She made a pot of tea and waited for Emma to finish with the customer.

---

“A penny for them,” said Emma as she came into the workroom. Maxine was miles away.

Her mind was on the ever-growing list of jobs that she would have to do when she moved. She’d received the news that very morning from her lawyer that contracts had been exchanged, and completion was less than a month away now that all the money for the house purchase was in 'escrow'. Thanks to Adrian's financial planning, she was financially secure and, that was without liquidating the assets held by the business. While this was good, it was a strange feeling. For someone of her age to be financially independent and not a celebrity or a lottery winner was unusual, to say the least. She owed it all to Adrian, and it was down to her to repay his faith in her.

“Sorry. I was thinking about the list of things I’m going to have to do when I move.”

“Move? Am I going to lose you as a customer?”

Maxine smiled.
“Far from it. I was thinking about investing in your shop. The place next door is still empty. If I could pick up the freehold for a good price then you could move next door and not have to worry about stupid rises in ground rent. Business rates are bad enough but, some commercial landlords are just nasty. You told me about them squeezing you to make repairs that they should have done yourself. If I were to be your landlord, I'd make sure that you got a fair deal. How does that sound?"

Emma sat down and looked Maxine right in the eye.

“Is this something that you just thought up or what? If it is the ‘or what’ then why the hell haven’t you mentioned something about it before now?”

Maxine smiled.
“The reason I have not mentioned it before is that I have gone through this process on another property I own. The owner of the salon, where I get my hair done, now has a stake in the bricks and mortar of the building she works out of. If that sort of thing interests you then, we could talk more. If you aren't then, please just forget all about it.”

“Isn’t this a change in your business focus?”

Maxine nodded her head.
"It is but about six months ago, I saw an advert on YouTube about someone gloating that they made thousands and thousands from the commercial property by forcing their tenants not only to pay ever-increasing rents but to pay for all maintenance as well. If I rent a house, then the landlord is responsible for the fabric of the property. It struck me that commercial renters such as yourself can get stuck with a hefty bill for no good reason.”

“In my case, I bought the freehold of the property where my hairdresser works, and I own part of the business. I restructured our agreement to make her part-owner of the property. If she decides to buy me out then she ends up with the freehold of the property that she uses. This is not a 1–2-year commercial loan but a clear partnership. If you are interested, then we can talk more.”

“Oh,” remarked Emma.

"Just take some time and have a good think about it. The property next door is slightly larger than this one and, I think that a better cutting room would do wonders for your output. Who knows… you could even take on an apprentice?"

Emma laughed.

“Are you trying to become the next big property tycoon?”

“Far from it,” replied Maxine with a grin on her face.
"Adrian, my late husband, always stressed to me that there are two main types of a deal in business. Good deals and good deals that end up going bad later because of the small print. I don't like the small print. One former boss of mine hammered that into me. It is her wedding that I'm going to at the weekend."

“But… didn’t you say that it is your Mother’s wedding?”

“Yeah. My Mum is marrying my old Boss.”

Emma shook her head.

“You are always full of surprises Maxine. You are completely the opposite of most of my normal customer base, thank god! You are the antidote to bridezillas like the one who was in here when you arrived. She was trying on her dress for the eighth time.”

Maxine laughed.
“I’m lucky in that I’ve had some good people in my life. They helped shape who I am.”

“And speaking of that, let’s try your dress on. I have another neurotic bride and an even worse mother coming in for a fitting in under an hour.”

“You are the boss when it comes to the dress,” commented Maxine as she started to undress.

[45 minutes later]

“That’s it. The last of the final alterations are done. All you need is a hat!” remarked Emma.

Maxine shook her head.
“Thanks, but no thanks. I have worn a hat twice since I became Maxine. One was for my Marriage to Adrian which, lasted for less than a minute after the ceremony. The other was for his funeral. Twice is more than enough, thank you. I think I look horrible in a wedding hat."

“So, no going to Ladies Day at Royal Ascot for you then?”

“Fat chance of that.”

“Someday Maxine, you will be a superstar!”

"That's what I'm dreading. Then the tabloids will have a field day with my history. All they'd need to do is track down my sister Dawn, and they'd have enough for a week of scandal headlines."

Emma finished wrapping up Maxine’s dress.
“I’m sure that you will look good giving away your Mum at the weekend.”

"That's all I can hope for, isn't it? As long as Dawn stays away, then I'm good."

“Are you going with anyone?”

Maxine shook her head.
"I had hoped too but, they said no dice,” replied Maxine with definite sadness in her voice.

Emma just smiled back at her. She’d heard those very words far too often in the past and would again in the future.

[to be continued]

[Authors Note]
The building site that is mentioned in this part does exist and is near Banbury and all the homes are built to a zero-emission standard. Their carbon footprint includes the energy used in their construction.