Tea in the Library (23 page)

Needless to say, I was agog. Our Breakfast Club was counted a success if it attracted eight or ten people. There must have been sixty or seventy here. When the speaker had finished, there was a scrum to buy his book and have it signed. Todd could be seen above the heads of the crowd, red in the face, taking credit cards and bagging books as fast as he could. When the melee had subsided a little, I struggled through the heaving mass of book buyers to the front counter. Todd was still madly selling books, with a rather distracted air. Over the heads of customers thrusting credit cards at him, I hissed, “Todd! What
happened?
What did you
DO?
” Looking slightly wild-eyed, he replied “I don't know! I think it was Carly!”

“Who's CARLY??”

Once the hubbub had subsided, and we could talk it over, Todd told me that he had been approached by a young PR consultant named Carly, who had attended a session of “Eggs on Proust”. Carly's view, in a nutshell, was “great idea, crap crowd”. She asked Todd if she could supply a speaker, and guaranteed a crowd as well. He naturally accepted, but I don't think he realized just what had been unleashed. Carly was Dr Demartini's Australian PR consultant, and had links with the publisher of his books, Hay House. For Dr John, 30 minutes at Tea In The Library was an opportunity to spruik his book, and also to give a “taste” of his style to promote his two-day seminars, for which he charges a substantial fee. As Carly later explained it, many of the young go-getter attendees lapped up the opportunity to hear John speak “for free”, even if only for half an hour.

It was Carly's goal to have the crowd half way up the steps. She just about did it. Naturally, after this stupendous illustration of what she could do, I was anxious to speak to Carly. She turned out to be a very young lady, very mature, very clever
—
and very beautiful as well. She gave me a professional plan for six months of PR, designed to boost our profile
—
and our sales. Sandy and Carly hit it off right away. It was Sandy who christened her “Miss Carly”, in deference to her poise and elegance.

So Carly joined The Team too, and thus began a vigorous promotional effort on behalf of Tea In The Library
—
and a lot of fun, as well!

Carly's game plan was to make sure the media knew about us, and we had certainly found that even a small editorial “mention”, in the right publication, worked wonders. Apart from the deluge of “short black readers” which had followed a review in the restaurant guide of that name, we had also once been blessed with a short (two column inches) mention in
The Sydney Morning Herald
magazine,
Good Weekend
, with a consequent immediate (if short lived) rise in customers and trade. The centerpiece of Carly's plan was “Romance In The Library”
—
a week of romance-themed events, including a media launch. The launch was designed around Jane Austen's
Pride 
& Prejudice.
The shop was draped in silk and roses. Every book title that could possibly be described as having anything at all to do with “romance” was on prominent display. Carly herself dressed in period costume for the media party. Lucinda Holdforth, our wonderful supporter, spoke about the love affair of Napoleon and Josephine. I read excerpts from Nancy Mitford's
Love In A Cold Climate,
and the opening paragraphs of Collette's
Cherie.
We had a great deal of fun, and attracted a respectable crowd of media.

One of the more memorable events that week was the visit of Valerie Parv, a writer of genuine “romance novels” of the Mills & Boon variety. Valerie is in fact one of the most successful writers on the books of Mills & Boon, to the tune of about 25
million
books sold! Valerie is a lovely, articulate lady, who is quite happy to defend her genre, and discuss issues such as why so many people read so many romance novels. We had a lovely morning with Valerie, at the end of which she extracted a volume from a capacious handbag, signed it with a flourish, and handed it to me. It was called
The
Viscount and
The Virgin.
I treasure it still.

About the time that Carly joined The Team, I had my own inspiration for a marketing extravaganza. I had traveled to Atlanta, Georgia, on a business trip, where I visited the home of Margaret Mitchell, author of
Gone With The Wind
. I was full of the cadences of the Deep South, and my bright idea was to “theme” a book sale around the famous novel. Carly took to the idea with verve (although I don't think she had read the book or even seen the movie). She hired two lovely dancers who were “between jobs”, and took them to the ABC (Australian Broadcasting Commission) costume department to hire period dress. Voila! Scarlett O'Hara and Miss Melly materialized. They looked very beautiful in their bonnets and bustles.

Sandy made up leaflets using slogans like “Prices are ‘Gone With The Wind' at Tea In The Library” and “Classic Savings”. She obtained the requisite (and highly priced) Council permits to allow the girls to stand on nearby street corners in their lovely bonnets, with pretty baskets full of our leaflets. What a hit they were! It is one of the few times I have seen passers-by actually approach the leaflets-bearers to request a copy. People were
forming queues
to talk to Scarlett and Miss Melly.

Meanwhile, back at the shop, we had ordered in some copies of the book, and produced a display featuring the title. In what was probably a serious breach of copyright, we had the movie of
Gone
With The Wind
playing on a television screen, and a GWTW trivia competition with a copy of the DVD as a prize. Plus we discounted our prices across the board by 20%. This was a substantial discount considering that our gross margin was only about 40% maximum. It was the subject of quite a bit of debate between the book staff, Sandy and me. Emma was against sacrificing at such a level; while Sandy insisted that to attract people and compete, we needed a significant (if short-term) drawcard. The view I came to was that it was better to sell a few books at only a 20% margin than to return them to the publishers; plus if we managed to attract people to the shop they might also patronize the café, and also return another day.

The result was, in my view, successful. Book sales doubled in that week
—
but at that discount, profits, of course, did not. Café sales were up; and we all had a lot of fun. In fact, we had so much fun that, at the end of the day, I was tempted to say of the sales figures, “Frankly, I don't give a damn”.

We had been open about one year. The Team In The Library at this time was made up of Emma as Books Manager, Damien as Books Assistant, and Paul as Books Assistant (Part Time). Kate was Café Manager, with a team of waitresses including Bea, Catherine and Sabine; and a chef, who changed rather regularly. Plus Sandy, Carly and I constantly trying to rev everyone up with our bright marketing ideas.

This was the period when I felt that we had the most cohesive Team, all loyally committed to Tea In The Library. Which is not to say that they all had exceptional sales skills. There was a tendency to get a bit comfy, especially on the books side. There was a period when I despaired of getting the books staff out onto the sales floor, so caught up were they in back-office work. They seemed to spend so much time poring over catalogues with the sales reps and buying books; “receiving” books into our computer inventory system; unpacking and shelving books; then selecting books which had sat on the shelves too long, and processing them for return to the publishers.

“Guys!” I implored
—
“you're skipping a step!”

In the kitchen, Kate had assumed the mantle of control with confidence. She moulded her waitress team with professional flair. Young Catherine was a
very
young newly-wed who was studying hospitality at Technical College while her equally young husband James worked his way through university, helping out as our kitchen hand from time to time. Catherine was a sweetie who took her job very seriously, although she was able to take Damien's joking very lightly.

Bea's surname was “The Fall Of Stars”. A gentle soul, she was a very spiritual person who ran a massage business on the side. She also had a great flair for design, and produced some of our most attractive merchandising displays. Regrettably, we didn't discover this skill until shortly before we closed. Bea did, however, early on insist that we reconsider the location of the display shelf which was placed directly in front of the entrance door. She said it was bad
fung
shui
, and was blocking the positive flow of energy into the shop. We moved the shelf, but perhaps the damage had been done.

The revolving chef position never attracted anyone for too long. Between incumbents we relied on a temporary staffing agency. Eventually we settled for a time with a Thai chef with Italian training. He was a reliable and competent chap but I never felt that we regained the “flair” we had enjoyed with our more difficult cooks!

Damien had come to us via Emma's network, to help after Todd left. Although he had bookshop experience, he was not confident in approaching customers and “pushing” sales. He was, however, a great person to have around, and endlessly helpful, staying on until the “bitter end” to help me out.

The Team had many challenges to deal with. Those relating to our rather elderly and decrepit premises were among the most challenging.

The all-pervasive pong from the ladies' loo became legendary. Repeated calls were made to Craig, the landlord's agent, and repeated plumbers' visits followed. The plumbers' works varied in extent, but not in their failure to solve the problem. To this day, the shop still exudes that distinctive and familiar whiff when I walk by.

Then there was a memorable morning, early on, when we had a booking for twenty for a business breakfast. Louise and Jo were on duty, eggs benedict half-prepared, guests seated and chatting. At this point the electricity failed. A fire in the ancient air-conditioning unit, outside in the back alley, had burnt through the electrical conduit for the shop. We later learnt the sorry tale from the building's tenant representative, Don. There had been a night of drama, with the fire brigade arriving in the wee small hours, to extinguish a fire thought to have been started by a homeless person in the alley. The other apartments had suffered some smoke and water damage. Tea In The Library, being sealed up, had escaped this; but our electricity supply was affected, and chose a very inopportune moment to fail. In a great spirit of “the show must go on”, Jo and Louise cooked the breakfast (gas cookers), and served it by candlelight, at 8 am. Real troopers.

I gloss lightly over the concerns about rats in the alleyway, the constant struggle that all Sydneysiders know of keeping the cock-roaches at bay; and our losing battle with those tiny fruit flies that seem to be attracted by alcoholic drinks. But perhaps the single most challenging incident of this kind occurred when we had been operating for about ten months. It was a weekend in August, and Saturday afternoon, with Kate and Paul doing pretty good Saturday business for the café, and maybe selling a few books too. I received a call from Kate at about 1 pm, reporting that water was seeping through some of the light fittings in the shop. A few drips, but worrying, not only from the point of view of the moisture, but also the dangerous combination of moisture and electricity. I made some urgent calls to Craig, and also Don, disturbing their weekend, in an effort to investigate the source of the problem. Every half an hour or so, Kate would report in with an update
—
matters were deteriorating rapidly, with the water flow now a pour, not just a drip, and gushing from most of the light fittings.

The customers had been seen off the premises and the shop closed early, buckets placed strategically; and as things worsened, books moved or covered with hastily constructed cardboard shields. Café tables and chairs were stacked in one dry corner, and mops deployed. Emma arrived on the scene, and I followed shortly after.