by Alan Laycock
“Well spotted.”
“Yes, and he said that someone had recommended me as the best estate agent in the area.”
“How nice.”
“Ha, the trouble was that his accent was so strong that I couldn’t distinguish the name very well. It sounded like Alain, but I can’t be certain.”
Surer than ever that he was after a share of the commission, which he would attempt to wangle out of me after giving me some cock and bull story about this Frenchman, I told him that if he wasn’t sure, he needn’t worry too much about it.
“Oh, but I must find out who this Alain is, Alan. My impeccable reputation depends on me always honouring my promises to my unofficial agents.”
“Do you know any Alains?”
“Not that I recall, Alan. Alas, the man was in a hurry, so I couldn’t ascertain how or where he’d come across this Alain, but I thought you might be able to shed some light on the matter.”
“I don’t think so,” I said, before Malcolm’s fearsome face appeared in my mind’s eye. He warned me not to allow my sadly underdeveloped commercial instincts to let an opportunity pass me by, and he also scorned my fear of Juanca bamboozling me out of part of my commission. All this occurred in half a second, and in the other half I swore that whatever he said, not a cent of Cristóbal’s money would be up for grabs. “Although he might have meant Alan, of course.”
“Ah, yes, he might have meant Alan.”
“Look, I was coming into town anyway, so I’ll call round.”
“Yes, you do that. I shall await you with open arms, Alain, I mean Alan.”
As soon as Inma stepped out of the shower, I enveloped her in a towel.
“Oh, thanks. Is this what married life is going to be like?”
“Yes, I shall be your slave,” I said, before drying her a bit while asking if a Frenchman had been in the bar, asking about houses.
“Yes, a couple of days ago. I gave him one of your cards.”
“Ah, why didn’t you tell me?”
“Oh, we often give them to foreigners who express interest in the area.”
“I bet he showed it to the rascal,” I muttered. “But how would my card lead him to Juanca?”
She sighed and shook her turbaned head. “Because we tell them where to go, of course. He didn’t seem so interested, so I thought no more of it.”
I told her about Juanca’s call and my fear that it was a ruse to prise my hard-earned cash away from me.
“Be firm with him. Imagine what he’d have done if Cristóbal had stated clearly that he didn’t wish you to have a share.”
“I will. I’ll be firm. Thank you, dear.”
“Nice motor, Alan,” the impious agent said after trotting outside.
“Oh, it’s all right. So, tell me about this Frenchman who Inma gave one of my cards to.”
“Not so fast, Alain, ha ha. I’ll lock up and we’ll go to the bar. We have a lot of catching up to do.”
Over coffee he peppered me with questions, mainly about the hotel, which I answered briefly until we got onto my future job there, which I embellished somewhat.
“…so that’s what the Toyota’s for, you see. I’ll be taking the guests on trips and generally entertaining them,” I concluded after droning on for some time about my key role.
“I see, but rumour has it that the staff there have very little to do.”
“They’re training and… things.”
“But I believe only one small group of people are booked in, to do some kind of course.”
I wondered who the blabbermouth could be, but there was no law against talking about one’s job, and others would ensure that the any news soon reached Juanca’s ears.
“Yes, well, these things take time.”
“And will they pay you for driving people around and… things?”
“Of course.”
He sighed. “Oh, Alan, I don’t see much future for you at the hotel, not when there are twenty more people working there.”
“There are nowhere near so many,” I snapped. “That’s idle gossip. Anyway, I didn’t come here to talk about that, but first tell me what you’ve been up to. You never speak about yourself.”
He limply swatted the air. “Oh, my life is very dull. I come here, show people houses, then go home.”
“Hmm.”
“Although I have separated from my wife and am living in a small flat in Jumilla.”
“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. What happened?”
“She claims that I’ve paid her no attention for years, but the real reason she wants a divorce is because she’s been seeing another man, a mere office worker, younger than her.” He shrugged and wiped his eye, though I’d discerned no tears.
“Oh, I’m sorry.”
“He’s after the money he knows she’ll be entitled to. He’s fat, like her, and lazy, like her. They make a good couple and I hope they’ll soon eat themselves to death with the… small amount of wealth I’ve acquired by working so hard for so long.”
“But you’ll keep half of it, won’t you?”
“If I’m lucky, but she’s trying to keep the house, so I’ll have to buy a new one and… oh, you don’t want to hear about my trifling worries, Alan,” he said with a brave smile.
I sighed, shook my head, and cunningly perused his wedding ring finger. There was no ring and no mark. Could he be telling the truth, or was it a ruse to enlist my sympathy before browbeating me out of five grand?
“How’s your daughter?” I asked.
“Still in Stockholm, but she has been home twice to comfort her lonely old father.” He sighed sadly, before pushing back his cuffs and leaning over the table. “Anyway, enough about that. I teased you on the phone about the Frenchman, but it’s true that he showed me your card, so we must talk business. Drink up and we’ll return to the office.”
The office was as scruffy as it had been before our rapid clean-up some months earlier.
“So, this Frenchman is a rather cunning kind of man and he appears to be well-off. He’s no fool and has a clear idea of what he wants.”
“What’s that?”
“He wishes to buy one of the many unfinished chalets around here, with plenty of land. Some belong to local people who ran out of money because of the crisis, others to ruined builders, and a few are already in the hands of the banks. I know most of the owners, but the sale won’t make us much money, as the price will be cheap, so it’s imperative that we also contract the builder for the Frenchman.”
“Right, but where do I come into it?”
“That depends. You’ll get your five percent for the sale anyway, as it was through you that he came here.”
“Through Inma, but yes,” I said, glad that I hadn’t told him we were going to be married.
“Yes, because I honour my promises, Alan.”
“Yes, so do I,” I said, giving him a steely, not-to-be-trifled-with look.
“Yes, but some don’t, like my cousin.”
“That’s debatable, Juanca. I mean, if everyone got a commission for everything, there wouldn’t be much to go round, would there?”
He rapped the desk. “I sold that house to that great big Englishman. With no sale there would have been no building. We worked together for years, then he let me down.”
“Hmm.”
“First him, then my wife. Am I such a despicable person, Alan?” he said, the film of moisture on his eyes caused by Cristóbal’s treachery, I suspected.
“No, you aren’t. Ha, you can get your revenge by not giving Cristóbal the work on the Frenchman’s house, if he buys.”
“He will buy, but I don’t want revenge, Alan. I wish to heal the wounds caused by his unthinking greed.”
“Do you?”
“Of course. He is family, after all.”
“Yes, I guess he is.”
“And what will he do now, eh? I know for a fact that he has only two trifling jobs lined up, and what then? And it’s not only that… him who I’m thin
king of. What will his workers do? How will they put food on their families’ tables? Are their children to go to school clothed in tattered rags?”
I raised my hands. “All right, all right, I’ve got the message. Is there anything I can do to help heal the wounds?”
“Yes, Alan, there is.”
“Then tell me what it is and I’ll do it.”
His lips curled up a bit. “But will you have the tact and subtlety required for such a delicate task?”
“Yes, I’ll… if you give me some idea of how to go about it,” I said, having resisted a strong impulse to tell him that I’d ask Inma.
He smiled. “It’s quite simple really. Lead up to it however you like, but tell him that as soon as he appears here with €5000 in cash, he will once more become my number one builder.”
I stroked my chin and gulped. Five grand was the amount he probably thought I ought to pay him, so did he expect me to capitulate rather than risk being ridiculed by Cristóbal? Ha, I was made of sterner stuff than that.
“Right, I’ll call him later.”
“No, please see him face to face, as I want you to see how he reacts to my generous offer.”
“Er, how is it a generous offer, Juanca?”
“Because it ought to be ten, and if he doesn’t want a firm from out of town to build the Frenchman’s chalet, he’d better pay up, because we all know that Malcolm has no intention of building another house.”
“Do we? Do you?”
“Of course. It stands to reason. They have that large motorhome to live in, and if the hotel fails, they won’t wish to live there.”
“Er, what makes you say that?”
“Simple intuition.”
“Ah.”
He grinned. “And a conversation overheard by… someone.”
“Fran?” I said, referring to the first waiter we’d interviewed, but his face remained placid.
“It’s not important. I have eyes and ears everywhere. So, will you tell my cousin what he must do?”
“Yes.”
“Should he prove hostile to my suggestion, remind him how many jobs I’ve secured for him over the years. Simple men like him have a tendency to ignore the bigger picture when they’re temporarily blinded by greed, but I feel sure that he’ll see reason if you approach the subject in the right way. Besides, I’d rather work with him than others. I know he’s a good builder and the well-being of my customers is of paramount importance to me.”
“Yes, Juanca.”
He stood up and leaned over his desk. “And you, Alan, should also think of the future. What can the hotel offer you?”
“I...”
His stare intensified. “I’ll tell you. At best a mediocre job, and at worst nothing at all. Sell your coins and work with me. Above all work with me, because the European economy is picking up, there are hundreds of houses standing empty, and thousands of foreigners who want to buy them. You know it makes sense, Alan.”
Wilting somewhat under the heat of his fiery eyes, I told him I’d go to see Cristóbal right away, but that I didn’t hold out much hope.
“Tell him not to bring €500 notes. Even the banks don’t like them.”
As I drove to Cristóbal’s chalet I found myself chuckling softly. I had to admit that it had been fun to listen to Juanca’s greed-driven eloquence again and I didn’t feel averse to working with him now and then, especially when I considered how little I’d have to do. I wondered why he was so keen to have me back on board and concluded that it was simply because I was a calm man of trustworthy appearance who spoke Spanish. Whether I’d be any good as a tour guide, I didn’t know, but – laying modesty aside for a moment – I did have a certain indefinable something when it came to putting people at their ease and persuading them to buy a property. Some folk succumb to the hard sell, but of the many who don’t, quite a few seem to like my approach, I was telling myself when the builder’s fine house came into view and I remembered my onerous errand.
I pressed the intercom button and no sooner had the automatic gate begun to slide open than he came striding out, still dressed in his work clothes.
“So your boss has still got plenty of cash to splash about, has he?” was his greeting as I opened my door.
“Hola, Cristóbal. I’ve just been talking to your cousin Juanca.”
“It’s time Malcolm began to think about the house I’m going to build for them.”
“Juanca asked me to come here to see you.”
“Tell him that I can do the work this summer if we prepare the plans now. Otherwise I’ll end up building for someone else.”
“Are you listening to me, Cristóbal?”
“Are you listening to me?”
“Yes, but you’d better listen to me, as Malcolm has no intention of building a house there at all.”
He scowled especially fiercely to hide the effects of this crushing blow, I deduced.
“I can guess why my damn cousin has sent you. He daren’t come here as he knows I’d set the dogs on him.”
I observed the two spaniels sniffing around by the fence. “Yes, Cristóbal. Er, why do you think he’s sent me here?”
“Because he wants me to pay him ten thousand. He knows the work is over and he thinks it’s time to pressure me, but I won’t back down.”
“Thanks for my envelope, by the way.”
He grunted.
“Juanca told me that a wealthy Frenchman is about to buy an unfinished chalet and wishes to contract a builder to finish it.”
He began to lick his lips, but whipped his tongue in and clamped his mouth shut.
“Juanca only wants you to give him five thousand, then the job will be yours.”
“Ha, another job that you’ll both want a commission for.”
I stood firm. “Yes, but it’s only ten percent.” I subtly puffed out my chest. “Juanca will sell the Frenchman the house and I’ll personally convince him that you’re the builder for the job. I’ll take him round the hotel and show him the finer points of your workmanship,” I said with suitably forthright gestures.
“Yes, yes, I’m sure you will. Tell him that when the new building contract is signed, I’ll hand over the five thousand.”
“Will you?”
“Of course. Do I look stupid?”
“No, but why not give it to him now as a gesture of good faith?”
“Have you met the gabacho?” he asked, referring to the Frenchman.
“No, but Inma has,” I said, remembering that she’d said he hadn’t seemed all that interested. “But do what you think best.”
“Tell him what I said. I’m going for a shower. Adiós.”
“Adiós, Cristóbal.”
“Ha, I expected nothing less of the stubborn devil,” Juanca said back at the office. “Thank you, Alan. It’s good to have you both back in the fold.”
Rather than baaing, as the expression is the same as in English, I remembered my inspired and inspiring words. “Yes, and I’ll personally convince the Frenchman that Cristóbal is the builder for the job. I’ll take him round the hotel and show him the finer points of his workmanship,” I said with even greater finesse the second time around.
“Yes, Alan,” he said, looking amused, as I think I’d overdone it and had sounded a bit like Laurence Olivier in Richard III when he’d mislaid his horse.
“Let me know when you need me, Juanca.”
“I will, but I also need you to find me more buyers.”
“After the course at the hotel I’ll begin to look,” I said, as a married man must pull his weight.
“Juanca says he’s glad that I’m back in the fold,” I told Inma over dinner.
She baaed softly.
“That’s what I thought.”
“It’s good though.”
“I know. It’s tough work, but someone has to do it.”
“Have you spoken to Beth lately?”
“No, but I will, right after dinner.”
Beth told me that Bill’s f
uneral had been a dignified affair and that two of his daughter’s servants had helped to bear the coffin from the village church to the graveyard, the other bearers being nephews.
“It was like stepping into another world, Alan, like one of those costume dramas. I’m glad I went now. Everyone was really nice, as they knew how well we got on together.”
“And how well you looked after him. He was a grand chap, wasn’t he?”
“Yes, he was. I’m keeping my eyes open for the spring arrivals, by the way. I’ll let you know as soon as someone wants to take a look inland.”
“Thank you, Beth.”
“This resurrection of my house-selling career has been rather sudden,” I said later in bed.
“That’s what it’s like, I guess. It’s just a question of keeping one’s eyes open.”
“Like you did with the Frenchman.”
“Yes. Bonne nuit, mon chéri.”
“Bonne nuit, ma chérie.”
20
“Alan, I have some amazing news,” Angela blurted down the phone the following morning at half past eight, which was most unlike her.
“Morning, Angela. What is it?”
“Some guests arrived at the hotel yesterday evening,” she gushed.
“Oh, did they come early for the course?” I asked, it being due to start the next day.
“No, no, I mean real guests.”
“Oh, aren’t the course guests real guests?”
“No, yes... no, because I lured them here with special rates. These proper guests just came across the place and liked the look of it. There are four of them, Alan, two couples, and they’re staying for four whole nights, so for a short while we’ll have fourteen guests staying. We’ll be practically full. Isn’t that exciting?”
“Yes, it is, but how come it’s fourteen?”
“Well that’s another bit of good news. Two more people signed up for the course a couple of days ago. Isn’t it wonderful?”
“It’s great, Angela,” I said, trying to match her enthusiasm, which wasn’t easy, as I didn’t feel much. Juanca’s warning that the hotel was unlikely to put much bread on my table had hit the mark and I’d woken up in a sombre state of mind regarding my limited duties there.