His mother had a riding accident and his father, unable to come to terms with the loss of his gentle and deeply loved wife, succumbed soon after from a heart attack.
Erick was devastated and withdrew into himself for weeks, hardly speaking.
Three years later he married Andrea and quickly learned that his eye‑catching and sexually veracious wife was not easily persuaded to abandon her view on any subject. In March 1965 their son Christian was born.
The factory had been taken over by his uncle, who had the wit to see that Erick would never settle to an administrative job in the factory and selling would be the obvious choice.
After only a few months in the factory’s retail shop in Copenhagen, selling everything from socks to expensive suits, the shop’s turnover increased day by day. Erick was happy, having found something which came naturally and easily to him – and which he could do better than others. When the sales director retired Erick took over the handling of the company’s most important clients in Copenhagen and a sales team of five representatives, all older than himself.
He knew, however, that the factory was making hardly any profit and that it would have to change its production methods to avoid pricing itself out of the market. To do that the old factory would have to be completely modernised and expensive new machinery installed.
Erick was ready to talk to the bank about that, but his idea of running the company didn’t stop there. He was still very young and an unknown quantity in the clothing manufacturing business, but he was sure that his idea could turn the whole industry on its head. To promote it, though, he needed a figurehead, someone respected in the Danish business community. He chose to talk to the firm’s chartered accountant, Jan Christensen, of ‘Seagram and Collins’, one of the most respected consultants and chartered accountants worldwide.
* * *
‘Can we meet, Jan?’ Erick’s voice sounded more urgent than normal. He was phoning from home after having tried several times without being able to get hold of the company’s shy, clever, diffident young chartered accountant.
Erick, Andrea and their son Christian had come back late the day before from a sailing holiday in Greece. Andrea was busily unpacking, whisky, vodka and gin bottles, putting them on the table in lines. Erick looked at her and frowned but carried on the phone conversation at the same time.
‘I can come to your office any time this week,’ he pressed.
‘What’s up, Erick? If I didn’t know you better, I’d think you were excited,’ Jan answered.
‘Let’s meet there, one o’clock, Thursday.’
‘Thursday? Could be difficult? ...’
‘I’ve got something to suggest that I know you will go for,’ Erick enthused. From the moment he’d appointed Jan he’d felt that they shared a common outlook on business and respected his opinion more than anyone else’s.
‘Have you indeed?’ Jan joked. ‘Will it make us both powerful and famous?’
‘It will change our lives,’ Erick announced cryptically, and hung up.
Turning to Andrea, still busy unpacking her smuggled bottles, he said tetchily, ‘How dare you bring all that with you? What if we had been searched in customs?’
‘Don’t worry. It’s only alcohol, for God’s sake. To hear you, you’d think it was hash or LSD. Don’t be mad at me, Erick. It is a real bargain – half price.’
He shook his head. ‘I don’t understand why you take such risks. Imagine the scandal and embarrassment if you were caught?’
* * *
‘This is pure luxury! Very nice,’ said Erick. He was impressed by Jan’s spacious modern office with its view of beautiful Amagertorv Square in the centre of Copenhagen.
‘So what’s this revolutionary new idea?’ asked Jan.
Erick took the floor plan of the factory from his briefcase and spread it out on Jan’s desk.
‘You remember the factory layout? The cutting tables are along the windows here at the long side of the hall. The middle of the floor is taken up by the various machine sections, then the Hoffman presses. Here is quality control, packing, and at the end storage and despatch.’
‘Yes, I know,’ Jan said, waiting for what Erick was leading up to.
‘In theory a garment is in continuous progress through the factory. The quicker it comes through, the faster it can be sold and the less capital is tied up in unfinished products.’
‘Okay, I’m with you so far.’
‘But in practice the process isn’t nearly as streamlined. Because we must supply our customers with the complete line of men’s wear, there are endless hold ups, specially in the different machine section on the factory floor. Certain orders have priority or cloth has come in late or machines have to be adjusted. Sometimes the machinists have to sit idly. Making relatively small numbers of a wide range of various trousers, suits, blazers, jackets and overcoats, leads to inefficiency of scale.’
Jan frowned. ‘I see what you mean, Erick, but your factory has always been known for its comprehensive range of products. You could never keep your retailers happy if you only offered one product. Besides that your turnover would collapse, taking years to build up again based on one product line.’
‘No, we want to sell the full line of products so stock has to come from other factories, of course.’
‘Buy in?’ Jan did not sound very enthusiastic. ‘But you’re the manufacturer. Even paying trade prices would push your cost sky high, surely? And you would at best just be selling other people’s products, which are on the market anyway.’
Erick beamed. ‘Yes, but not if we organised some kind of amalgamation between several factories. Each factory could then specialise in manufacturing only one article. Thus the production cost becomes lower and the garments more competitive in the marketplace. Instead of using different labels, we could market our goods under just one umbrella name for all products. There would be a centralised design department, so each product would conform to the brand image.’
Jan was quick to grasp the concept and improve on it.
‘Giving the group central control would help financing cost too. At the moment all Denmark’s factories, including yours, are coming into increasing competition with imports from Taiwan, Korea, Hong Kong, Yugoslavia, Poland and East Germany. If they realise that the competition is not so easy in Scandinavia, they might go elsewhere.’
Erick said slowly, ‘Initially I’m suggesting an amalgamation of eight factories, that will span the complete range of men’s wear, with a view to becoming one company.’
‘It’s a brilliant idea but the other owners will never go along with it,’ Jan objected. ‘They can’t even combine and hold a yearly fashion show! Don’t forget that these eight represent pretty well the whole industry.’
‘Exactly,’ Erick said impatiently and got to his feet, ‘but as this new company would totally dominate the market, anyone who didn’t choose to become part of it would be heavily outgunned. It is just a question of putting it to them in the best way, doing our homework so thoroughly we can counter any objection.
Jan raised one eyebrow. ‘We, Erick?’
‘Come on, Jan. Do you want to be a chartered accountant all your life? Come in on this with me and the sky’s the limit. This is big enough for you, surely?’
They were total opposites: handsome, persuasive Erick and the gawky, slightly dishevelled accountant, cautiously assessing the world through his thick black‑framed glasses.
‘I don’t want to end up looking at what other people have created,’ Jan answered slowly. ‘I want to be part of the action and hopefully make my fortune on the way. If we go ahead and it works out, you should be the group Marketing Director but I want to be Managing Director. If you don’t like that, let’s call it a day and forget the whole thing.’
‘You know what they say,’ Erick said carefully. ‘A Chartered Accountant is the last person who should run a company. Financial Director, perhaps. But then the shareholders will have the final say.’ Not want
ing to alienate Jan at this early stage, he added, ‘Personally I don’t have any objection. If that’s what you want, I’ll back it. Get the paperwork done, arrange the meeting and I will present it and close the deal one day, soon.’
* * *
Within a month Jan arranged their first meeting with the managing director of a factory which also represented a hundred independent menswear retailers who worked together as a buying group. Aage Madsen was well known to Jan and was the best target for the first presentation.
After a nerve‑wrecking hour, during which Erick did not deviate from his prepared script, Madsen looked at the two young men without speaking for a full minute.
Then he said thoughtfully and very slowly, ‘This is such an important step for the whole industry that my company would not like to be left out of any possible group.’
Jan and Erick exchanged looks. It was in the bag! With Madsen on board the other factory owners were bound to listen carefully to their scheme for the new company which they had already christened GIANT of Scandinavia.
The directors and board members of the eight factories met at Steensgaard, a secluded fourteenth century castle at Faaborg on the Island of Fyn. It had acres of beautiful parkland with old trees, a lake and a game reserve. Jan and Erick had rented the whole place for the weekend.
The decision to amalgamate the eight companies into one meant each owner having to give up his personal control. Instead, he would receive shares in the new group and a place on the board.
It was the biggest and most difficult decision each of them had ever taken but Aage Madsen was vocal in urging them all to take this bold and imaginative step. When Erick mentioned that his family business had a few days before been approved by the Government for a large industrial grant if it moved to a small town called Bandbo, a hundred miles south of Copenhagen, he got a standing ovation.
At four o’clock the representatives gathered in the meeting room. Eight sealed envelopes were placed in the ballot box. While everyone watched, Aage Madsen opened them one by one.
And on every one was a ‘Yes’.
Aage Madsen made a reassuringly senior chairman, Jan was named MD, and by popular consent Erick was named Marketing Director of the entire company.
Sixteen hundred jobs now depended on Erick’s ability to combine eight different factories’ product lines under one brand name and increase sales through inventive marketing.
Scandinavia’s largest menswear group had been formed and at twenty‑nine he had the most powerful job in the Danish clothing industry.
CHAPTER NINE
_________________________
Holte, Denmark, Spring, 1968
‘We employ nearly two thousand people. We can’t run this company like a corner shop!’ Aage Madsen said angrily.
‘I don’t understand why we have such a lousy relationship with the bank. Why haven’t we any detailed financial planning? That’s your responsibility, Jan. You’re not a bean‑counter any more!’
Eight months ago GIANT of Scandinavia had moved into its new head office and warehouse in Holte, ten miles north of Copenhagen. All production from the group’s factories, including Europe’s most modern factory in Bandbo, was delivered to the warehouse and distributed from there to the retailers. An advanced stock movement system was installed too.
So far so good, but the company’s working capital was strictly limited and cashflow was a constant problem. Several times Erick had been asked to sell a large a large quantity of stock at a cash discount to cover the wages. Twice Aage Madsen had been called on to give a personal guarantee to the bank and his patience was wearing thin.
Jan tried to defend himself. ‘I’m handling it better than anyone else could. The first couple of years’ trading will be financially tight. I’ve always said that...’
‘It doesn’t alter the fact,’ Aage Madsen answered, ‘that I am once more forced to write guarantees. For God’s sake, man. You’re the Managing Director. Can’t you get the company’s affairs in better order than this?’
But the truth was Jan could not. As Erick had foreseen, he couldn’t rid himself of an accountant’s way of thinking, clearing debits in the short term when what was needed was the courage and foresight to make the company into a real giant – in size as well as name.
Erick knew that someone must steer the company on to greater things, and that somebody was going to have to be him.
Andrea agreed; was always urging him to assert himself, let Jan see that things couldn’t continue like this. So far Erick had held back from an out‑and‑out challenge. When he made his move, he wanted it to be one that really counted and would set the seal of authority over GIANT for good.
Until then he was content to sit back and watch Jan bury himself deeper every day that Erick allowed him to continue as MD.
With Madsen to bail them out GIANT would survive, and in the meantime the Swinging Sixties had reached Denmark and were providing the Elgbergs with many pleasant distractions.
* * *
Erick and Andrea had now got a daughter, Lisette, been married for six years and their friends considered them a good advertisement for marriage, just as it was starting to go out of fashion. Their closeness was often illustrated by the way one would start a sentence and the other finish it, as if even their thoughts were shared.
Andrea often took the sexual initiative and very little persuasion was needed to get Erick interested. Even if their sex life could not be bettered, it did not mean they were not aware of other people’s sexual attractiveness and discussed this openly between them. They seldom had reason to become jealous of each other but if they did, both tried to forgive and forget as quickly as possible.
At one summer party in a house with a lawn going directly down to a tiny sandy beach at Oresund, the sea between Denmark and Sweden, Erick saw Andrea dancing with his schoolfriend Claus to Louis Armstrong’s ‘What a Wonderful World’. They looked as if they were having a good time, though he knew that Andrea would set limits as to how far she would allow Claus to go.
‘They look pretty with the moon shining on them,’ a woman’s voice said close behind him. It was Valerie, his friend Claus Mikkelsen’s wife. She was vivacious and attractive in a blue mini dress with cut outs over her navel and shoulders. Her blonde hair was cut short in the new style made popular by Twiggy. But she was thought of as more prudish than the other girls, although she tried hard to be part of the group.
‘I think Claus enjoys being with Andrea more than with me,’ she confessed.
‘They’re just having a good time,’ Erick answered. ‘I’ve never seen you looking so good as you do tonight,’ he heard himself adding.
She kissed his cheek and put her arms round him, her soft body close against his. Erick moved his hand down from her waist and gently circled her buttocks.
She stood as if frozen. Slowly he lifted her dress and stroked her. She pressed her body hard against his, as if they were dancing intimately.
‘Let’s go inside,’ he said huskily. They walked back into the lounge where other couples were engaged in heavy petting. Valerie held him back and made him dance with her for a while, before he took her face in his hands and kissed her hard. She let him lead her out into the hall and up the stairs.
Valerie walked in front of him, swaying slightly. They tried several doors which were locked, the rooms obviously occupied by other couples.
Finally they entered the main bedroom which was lit only by moonlight. They kissed while he freed her breasts from her bra and pushed down her panties.
His eyes had now grown used to the dark and he saw their reflection in the mirror behind her. He pushed her up against it, took her hands and lifted them high above her head. He stepped back. She looked like a goddess with her full breasts and neat triangle of blonde pubic hair, her eyes closed, head lolling against her arm. Erick slipped his hand between her legs. She breathed rapidly in small gasps. When his finger entered her, she uttered ‘Oh
, God!’ in a surprised sounding voice.
He slid off his trousers. She pushed herself up on her toes.
‘Oh! Oh, God!’ she gasped, louder than before.
‘I’d better take over, before you go too far,’ a voice from the doorway said. And Erick saw his wife silhouetted in the mirror behind Valerie.
He froze. He was paralysed, close to panic.
‘I don’t think Valerie’s ready for a menage `a trois, do you, Erick?’ Andrea sounded amused rather than angry.
He quickly pulled up his trousers and made for the door. Andrea waved to him as he passed her.
‘See you later,’ she said. ‘Close the door on your way out.’
Valerie’s hands were still above her head.
Stunned, Erick saw Andrea slide down on her knees in front of Valerie. Open‑mouthed, Valerie stared at Erick. Silently he closed the door behind him.
An hour later Andrea entered the living room holding hands with a flushed Valerie. To his surprise, Erick felt not the slightest twinge of jealousy. He found he could not be jealous of a girl. The idea of the two women together turned him on.
Once again Andrea had surprised and enthralled him.
‘Oh, there you are,’ she said lightly. ‘Let’s all have a drink together. Where’s Claus?’
CHAPTER TEN
_________________________
Cerne Estate, England, 1964
Lady Catherine Carven and John Forbes were married in the Estate Chapel. The villagers, who had realised that the Carvens were considering selling up, were happy when it became apparent with this marriage that nothing was going to change.
Although the newly weds lived in John’s house in Salisbury, Catherine helped her parents with the running of the Estate, now an ever‑increasing burden. On John’s advice they rented out the stables to a racing trainer, which delighted Archie. Soon they had to extend the stable block and Catherine took over the yard’s management. Step by step the Estate came back to life.
They went abroad every month for glamorous weekends and stayed in the best hotels in Paris, Nice, Cannes, Rome, Madrid. Catherine enjoyed shopping and sightseeing, going to concerts and later dining out, before spending the night making love. During these ‘holidays’ John always went out on his own for a couple of hours, usually carrying a briefcase, excusing himself by saying that it was just business. True to their agreement, she never questioned him.