Food Fight Read Free Page A

dexterity and licking the chocolate from his fingers.
    “Good timing,” she said. “Take a look at this spike.”
    Frank stood behind her, puffing out his cheeks, studying her screen as she turned her chair round to face him.
    “It certainly confirms our hunch,” Frank said. “Given what we know about HFCS in the US. This could be great news for DeKripps here.”
    The graph showed results from a focus group on Delight, DeKripps’s vanilla ice cream sweetened with High Fructose Corn Syrup.
    HFCS was the miracle ingredient, cheaper and sweeter than sugar, and revolutionising the industry. As far as they knew, there was only one similar ice cream product on the market.
    The group had been given a month’s supply of Delight and another DeKripps ice cream containing sucrose. There was no room for doubt in the results.
    ‘Irresistible’ was scribbled over Delight’s report cards. Given a list of words to choose from, the final study group had picked ‘more, please’.
    “I’ll pass it to advertising,” Susan said. “Look, this is interesting too.”
    She pointed again to the questions on her screen.
    How important is it for you to know the ingredients of your ice cream ? Very important.
    Do you read the ingredients ? No.
    “That’s lucky.”
    “Let’s not get carried away,” she said. “This could be group-think. They’re unanimous, so could they have fallen behind a leader? I’ve seen people trying to outdo each other before. It’s like they think the most fanatical will get a bonus payment.”
    “You’re the focus guru,” Frank said. “Who was the DeKripps rep in there?”
    She skimmed through the report on her screen.
    “Someone Martin sent along. I’ll have a word with them. I’ll also contact the researcher.”
    Frank stopped at the door. “You know, our people in the US are beginning to take the defensive about added sugars.”
    “I’m not surprised. Plenty of journals suggest a link to obesity. Mimi seems to think I’m to blame for diabetes.”
    Frank rolled his eyes and made off. She sat back. The industry research showed that while diabetes and obesity were on the rise, sugar consumption had actually gone down in the UK in recent years. So she was safe on that score. Correlation isn’t cause, Frank would say. There’s no proof of a connection between illness and added sugar.
    Her mind wandered again. She picked up a biro and stuck the pointed end into the palm of her hand, which did the trick. For some reason, the letter of condolence she’d received from Ellen, the company Brand Manager in Washington, came into her mind. Maybe Ellen was right, maybe she did need a change of scene.
    She got up to stretch and looked out onto the street below, office workers in their shirt sleeves heading for sandwich stores.
    Her grumbling stomach told her it was time to do the same. But instead of going downstairs, she found herself following Frank along the corridor.
    The words came tumbling out. Would he support her if she asked for a temporary transfer to Washington? He blinked warily at her. Why would anyone want to leave behind their family, friends and routine so soon after their husband had died?
    He opened the top drawer of his desk, took out a large checked-cotton hanky, and swivelled away from her to blow his nose. He turned round and mopped his brow, then returned the hanky to his drawer. Placing his hands together as though in prayer, he spoke gently, like a hospital consultant to a patient, and asked her to take time and reconsider. He obviously felt she was acting irrationally and must be half-crazed with grief.
    But she knew already that her mind was made up. It just feels like the right thing to do, she told him, before walking out in search of a salmon sandwich.
    *
    What Frank wants, Frank gets. Susan had sometimes felt her boss was coasting in London, but the speed with which he arranged her transfer was impressive.
    First, he lined up a job for her in the marketing department,