One system, built for clinics and nobody else. Your clients meet one receptionist. You see each job and the number it owns.
A call rings out, or a DM lands while you're with a client. Lance replies as your clinic, on your number, asks what they'd like to change and whether there's a date they're working towards, then offers two real slots from your diary. Anything it can't answer honestly comes to you, flagged, within seconds.
The number it owns: enquiries answered, consultations booked
A confirmation with the real time and the right location, one line so the practitioner isn't starting cold, a reminder the day before. If they don't turn up, two real slots to rebook before the gap in your diary goes to waste.
The number it owns: consultations that happen first time
Most clinics follow a plan up once, if at all. Lance chases at two days, six, thirteen and twenty one, each one short and about what they came in for. The moment someone mentions price or another clinic, it brings you in.
The number it owns: plans accepted, days to decision
One review ask at the right moment, never after a concern. A referral ask a week on. And when their course or their top-up is due, the next session offered before they drift to whoever's nearest.
The number it owns: reviews, referred enquiries, repeat bookings
Everyone who asked about a treatment and went quiet is in your inbox somewhere, and so is every past client who never came back for the next session. Lance works both lists, a few a day, one message each: what they asked about, or what's due. When one replies, it books itself into your diary.
The number it owns: bookings from enquiries older than ninety days
When you mark a plan lost, Lance asks one honest question about what swung it: price, timing, another clinic. The Monday text shows you the pattern.
The number it owns: reasons lost, trended weekly
One text every Monday: what came in, what's in the diary, what was chased, what was booked, and the one thing leaking. And if a client ever waits an hour with no reply, your phone buzzes first.
The number it owns: you, knowing
Someone fills in your advert's form, or the page behind it, and Lance texts them within moments about what they picked. Then it books the call.
A page for the treatment, written inside the advertising rules, with its form wired straight into Lance.
When an enquiry has sat untouched for a week, it asks you one question by text and writes your one-word answer where it belongs.
If a client ever waits an hour with no reply, your phone buzzes first.
A real price needs a consultation, and it says so. The only figures it ever gives are ones you set yourself, such as a consultation fee or a deposit.
Every slot it offers came from your diary a second earlier. If your diary's full, it says someone will confirm a time, and fetches you.
Promoting one to the public isn't allowed in the UK, so Lance never names one, prices one or recommends one. If a client names one first, it doesn't repeat it back. Your practitioner talks it through at consultation.
One nudge if someone goes quiet. Four chases on a plan, then it stops. Nobody who's said no, raised a concern or asked to be left alone hears from it again.
Something urgent is sent for urgent help, at once. A worry after a treatment comes to you, within seconds. We know the difference. Whether something's safe for them, anything clinical, anything about price: handed to you, flagged. It'd rather fetch you than guess.
On a number you share with friends and existing clients, Lance works out who's writing before it says a word, and leaves them to you.
Pick up the phone or open the chat and it steps back. Every message it sent is marked in your inbox, so you always know which words were its.
Fifteen minutes, and you'll know by the end whether it's worth doing. Or ring 07886 071298, let it ring out, and watch the reply land.