No Place in the Sun

by John Mulligan

  Far from suffering from the extra competition, the show proved to be a big hit. The increased awareness brought about by the extra advertising in the broadsheets, and the feeling that bargains were still to be had but not for long, was driving people to the shows in ever increasing numbers. Tom had worked late on writing the editorial pieces for the newspaper property sections, and his glowing reviews of Playa Verde and Playa Marron were driving the punters into the Old Masters Hotel in their droves. The pressure was on the sales team, but they were well used to stress and they kept ticking off the sales. Miguel had brought an assistant with him from Spain and the queues had been shortened at his desk, and Harry’s niece was marshalling buyers from the salesmen to the lawyers and weeding out the tyre kickers and timewasters.

  This one was definitely a ‘Care in the Community,’ according to Walter’s categorisation system. The man was anxious to talk, and had obviously found that a salesman at a property show was a perfect captive audience for his ramblings. He had to be got rid of as soon as possible, the floor was full of buyers and valuable time was being wasted.

  ‘I want to buy a place in Spain, I’m going to sell my flat and move to Spain.’ He was about thirty five, give or take a few years, and had a slightly haunted look.

  ‘How much do you have to spend?’ Tom was humouring him, looking for a chance to ditch him and get on with business.

  ‘The lads said I’d get a lot of money for my place, it’s worth a packet they said.’

  ‘The lads?’

  ‘Down in Fortune’s bar, I go there on Fridays.’

  ‘After work?’

  ‘No, I don’t actually work, I was on a few training schemes though.’

  ‘And the lads, your friends are they?’

  ‘Oh yes, I have lots of friends actually, seven actually, they tell me that I’d get a woman no bother in Spain, she’d wash and cook for me and all.’

  ‘I think that the best person to help you would be Walter, the man over there, he’s the man for relocations to Spain, I just do holiday homes.’

  ‘He sent me over to you, do you have any brochures?’

  Tom gathered a copy of each of the brochures and handed them across the table. The client opened a pull-along suitcase and added the brochures to a substantial amount of similar paperwork in the case, including as far as Tom could see another set of the same brochures. However there was still no sign of him moving.

  ‘Do you think I’d get a woman in Spain? Have you a woman yourself?’

  Tom ignored the second question, it was none of this idiot’s business, and anyway he didn’t have time for a woman in his life, not just yet while this crazy rollercoaster of work was still running.

  ‘I reckon you’d get a woman no bother, they love Irish men, but we don’t really do properties that are suitable for relocating, more rental properties or holiday homes, that sort of thing.’

  ‘And who would sell me a place that I could live in?’

  Tom wrote a telephone number on a piece of paper. Try this fellow, Sean Simpson, he’s an expert in that field, relocates lots of people every year, he’s your man. I wouldn’t want to take your money and sell you the wrong thing, talk to Sean. Or better still, go and see him.’

  ‘Ok, I’ll do that, where would I find him?’

  ‘He has a bicycle shop as well, down the quays, Simpson’s Cycles. You’ll get him there any morning.’

  ‘Oh I know that place, ‘Simpsons, Simpsons, Simpsons, big wheels in bicycle sales.’ He sang the advertising jingle in a tuneless monotone.

  ‘Ok, thanks for dropping in; good luck with Sean Simpson.’

  ‘Big wheels in bicycle sales, big wheels in bicycle sales.’ The man was slow to move; he just sat there, tunelessly repeating the jingle.

  Tom drummed his fingers on the desk. ‘Could you make room for the next customer please? Thank you.’

  ‘Why would you need a sail on a bicycle? It wouldn’t be much use to you would it? Not unless your chain was broken maybe.’

  Tom tried to keep his temper. ‘Not that kind of sail, can you move along now please?’

  ‘But then again, unless the wind was blowing the direction you were going in, then it would be useful maybe. So you think I should go and see this Simpson man?’

  ‘That’s it exactly; he’ll be glad to help. Now I’ll have to move you along, that lady wants to talk to me.

  As soon as there was a lull Tom grabbed a coffee and sat down at Walter’s desk. ‘Thanks for sending me a ‘Care in the Community,’ just what I needed at the busiest time of the day.’

  Walter laughed. ‘I had him at the last show as well, he was hovering around your desk then too but he didn’t get near you, I thought it was only fair that you got to meet him as well.’

  ‘Next time, send him to Simpson’s, that’s what I did.’

  ‘Sean Simpson will love you for that, on top of all the calls you make to his secretary asking her for brochures.’

  ‘She’s Spanish, doesn’t get the nuances, the Zoo must have a pile of Simpson brochures for Tom Lyons and Paddy Lyons at this stage. ‘As well as Mr T. Iger and Mr. Leo Pard. Simpson’s client database must read like the jungle book.’

  ‘Anyway Walter my old buddy, don’t send me any more like him, deal with them yourself. I reckon he’s a few cans short of a booze up.’

  Walter smiled. ‘It’s not right to mock the afflicted as they say, but he’s delusional. His flat probably belongs to the Council and the local wags have persuaded him that it’s worth a fortune and that he could sell it and move to Spain. He drags around a wheelie suitcase full of property brochures and holiday brochures, probably living on a few bob welfare. Anyway, Sean Simpson will have something for him, might sell him a bicycle.’

  ‘Tell him to get on his bike, more like. You’d wonder sometimes though, wouldn’t you?’

  ‘Wonder about what?’

  ‘Is it him that’s mad, or is it the people buying all this stuff?’

  Tom wasn’t in the humour for dining out; the weekend had been tough and he really felt like spending a night in front of the TV and getting to bed early, but he was a little curious as to why Tania Sherry was so anxious to buy him dinner.

  He hadn’t been to the restaurant before, although he had heard of its reputation as one of the best places in town. He got out of the taxi and almost fell through the front door as the uniformed doorman jumped to attention and opened it suddenly. The place certainly looked expensive, with valet parking and the tables crowded with gleaming silverware on thick white linen. She was waiting for him in the small bar area, and within a few minutes they were being shown to their table.

  ‘Would you like something to drink, madam, sir?’ The waiter was hovering.

  ‘I’ll just wait for the wine, do you want something, Tom?’ Different when she was paying herself maybe, in Mesa Bella she had demolished several gins and tonic before the food arrived.

  ‘Nothing for me either, just the menu please.’ Two could play at that game.

  They ordered the food and kept the conversation light, Tom was still very annoyed with this woman and it was showing. Tania tasted the wine and indicated to the wine waiter that he should pour it. She raised a glass.

  ‘Here’s to future success, Scorpio and Sunspots, may we conquer the world.’

  ‘I’m not sure I should be toasting your new company, seeing as how you picked our brains for your start-up.’

  ‘Oh come on, Tom; all’s fair in love and war. Don’t hold grudges; let’s get on with making some money. Plenty of room for us all.’

  Tom reluctantly raised his glass. ‘Good luck with your scheme, but try to stay on your own side of the road, ok.’

  ‘Whatever you say.’

  Tom had ordered a steak, and it arrived perfectly done, just as he liked it. Tania attacked the lobster slowly and methodically, like a scientist dissecting a specimen, but she just picked at the meat as she freed it from the shell and didn’t seem to be eating much. Tom kept the
conversation to a fairly good humoured banter and avoided issues of contention, no point in spoiling a good meal with uncivil conversation. By the second bottle of wine he was feeling a little more mellow; Tania Sherry was actually quite good company if you ignored the fact that she was a bit mad.

  ‘What did you do before you got into the property business?’ Tom knew nothing of her background, but she appeared to be successful at whatever it was that she did.

  ‘I’m actually a doctor’, she said, ‘Doctor Sherry at your service.’

  ‘That’s interesting.’ He couldn’t resist a dig. ‘But if you’re a doctor, why didn’t you do your own tits then?’

  She took it well and laughed uproariously.

  ‘Not a medical doctor, although sometimes I let people make that mistake if it suits me. I actually have a doctorate in Spanish, from Barcelona University; I spent two years there on post-graduate study.’

  ‘So you speak Spanish fluently.’

  ‘Of course, and before you ask, I did understand everything that your developer friend said to you that day on the site.’

  Tom thought for a minute, was there something he had said to Marco that she wasn’t meant to hear?

  She laughed at his discomfort.

  ‘Stop worrying; you didn’t say anything out of order. Just teasing you.’

  ‘So, what business were you in?’

  ‘I run a very successful translations company, we provide translators for everything from the courts to the customs, and we translate technical manuals for some of the big electronic companies. I do ok.’

  ‘So why do you want to go into the property business?’

  ‘Lots of easy money to be made, I mean, eight percent?’

  Tom reddened at the memory. Harry had negotiated an amazing deal with Marco, and now this woman was going to quote it all over Spain and try to make it an industry norm. Why did he have to blurt out the figure that night in Marbella?

  ‘That’s an extreme situation, you won’t get that everywhere.’

  ‘That’s what you think. How much do you think I’m getting in Montana Fea?’

  ‘Don’t tell me, you’re getting eight?’

  ‘No, I’m not. I’m getting more.’

  Tom was surprised; this woman must be quite a negotiator. ‘How much more?’

  ‘Twelve and a half, but it’s almost all added on top, I agreed to sell at their asking price plus ten percent. Twelve and a half in total.’

  ‘But what if someone goes out to Spain and sees them on sale at the lower price?’

  ‘Can’t happen, I have guaranteed to sell them all for them, sole agency, all local arrangements cancelled.’

  Tom swirled the wine around in his glass. ‘That’s quite a margin, but then you are selling a cheaper product than we are, so it balances out I suppose. If you sell a lot of them you’ll certainly make a lot of money.’

  ‘That’s why I’m in the business, Tom, to make a lot of money. Why are you in the business, Tom?’

  ‘Same reason, I don’t know anyone who works for any other reason.’

  ‘Then how would you like to make a lot more money than you’re making now?’

  ‘I wondered when that was coming, Tania.’

  ‘Well, are you interested? How much would you want to work for me? I need a good sales manager to run the show; you are the most experienced around, and you have the track record.’

  She waved the empty bottle at the waiter. ‘More wine please, another bottle of the same.’

  Tom sat back and looked at his host across the table. Under the outward shell of a somewhat ditzy woman was a core of toughness, this was somebody who tended to get what she wanted. It was a difficult call, Harry was a decent guy to work for but he had a conscience and was fussy not only about what he sold but how he sold it. Harry didn’t have the killer instinct that was now facing him across the table. His boss had gone nearly as far as he wanted to go in any case, he had made the one big killing that would ensure a comfortable retirement, and from now on he would be getting more and more careful, and Tom’s earnings would be getting less and less.

  ‘I’m pretty comfortable where I am at the moment, Tania; why would I want to move to a start-up company?’

  ‘For money, Tom. How much would you want to move?’

  ‘Like I said, I’m happy working for Harry, but I’m curious as to how much you were thinking of offering.’

  ‘It’s up to you to know how much you’re worth, Tom, and then I’ll see if I can rise to that.’

  ‘Look, Tania, cut the games. I know that this is a head-hunt, how much are you putting on the table?’

  She leaned forward and looked him straight in the eye. ‘Tom, I intend to make Scorpio the biggest overseas property agency in the country in a matter of months, and I intend to have a bottom line of between five and ten million in year one. I’m not offering you a salary; I’ll give you twenty percent of net profits, but there will be conditions.’

  ‘What kind of conditions?’

  ‘Mostly to do with work rate, I’ll expect you to work seven days a week and not bitch about it. You’ll have to train salesmen, I’ll recruit young guys with ambition and pay them commission only and you will show them how to close sales quickly and in a way that won’t come unstuck. And of course you’ll only get paid when I get paid, I’m not carrying anyone.’

  The deal was marginally better than what Harry was paying, but the question on Tom’s mind was whether Tania Sherry would shift more volume than Harry and become the market leader; he had a feeling that she might just do that. There was also the issue of her complete lack of scruples. Harry was always holding back from making a real killing because he wanted every customer to get a good property and make some money from it; Tom was more inclined towards maximising the take from the business.

  ‘Make it thirty percent and you have a deal.’

  ‘No chance, Tom; I have the start-up costs, and the risk is all mine too. No, twenty or nothing.’

  ‘Nothing it is so.’ Tom decided to play hardball; twenty wasn’t too bad, but twenty five would be a good deal. He raised his glass in salute. ‘Thanks for considering me anyway.’

  She poured wine in the two glasses. ‘Don’t play hard to get, I can give you twenty five percent, but that’s it, there’s no more there.Deal?’

  ‘Deal.’ He took her outstretched hand and they shook on it.

  ‘Welcome aboard, Tom, now let’s celebrate.’ She took a long swallow from her wine and refilled the glasses again.

  The wine flowed and they discussed the future. Despite his outward calm, Tom was excited at the prospect of having a free hand with selling. Without Harry’s moderating influence he could sell a lot more property, he knew that. Harry had always warned him not to promise the possibility of big rental returns on holiday property, mainly because these returns were largely mythical. Now however he could attract a lot more business from investors who believed that their home in Spain could generate an income. This was going to be good; he had a good feeling about it.

  The only problem was his new boss; he would have to find some way to keep her away from the drink. Tania was now well lubricated and was slurring her words. She had ordered more wine, and when the waiter showed her the label she began to get abusive.

  ‘Up here, my face is up here.’ She jabbed a finger in the general direction of her forehead.

  ‘Yes, of course it is, madam.’

  ‘Then stop staring at my fucking tits.’

  The headwaiter rushed over, alarmed by the raised voices. ‘What seems to be the matter, madam?’

  ‘Your man here, he’s staring at my tits.’

  ‘I’m sure that’s not the case, madam.’

  ‘Can’t take his eyes off my tits. Jesus, now you’re staring at them as well, are you all fucking perverts in this place?’ Her voice was now quite loud and conversation had stopped at the other tables.

  ‘Madam, Sir, maybe you would like to settle the bill now, perhaps more w
ine might not be a good idea.’ The headwaiter was being a diplomatic as possible.

  She threw a gold credit card at the hapless waiter. ‘Take your fucking money, you fucking pervert.’

  ‘Let’s get out if here when he comes back with the card.’ Tom didn’t want to get in the middle of a row.

  ‘I’ll go when I’m fucking ready.’ She turned around to look at the people at the next table. The man seated opposite was unlucky enough to catch her eye. ‘What are you all looking at; did you never see a woman with a proper body?’ The woman nearest to her giggled nervously; Tom knew what was coming next but he could do nothing about it.

  ‘You never saw anyone with a decent figure, not at that table anyway. Bunch of titless fucking wonders.’

  Tom grabbed her arm and led her towards the door, where the waiters were holding their coats. The headwaiter never lost his polite smile. ‘Thank you for coming tonight, I hope we’ll see you again.’

  ‘Up here, up here, my fucking face is up here.’

  Tom managed to drag her out the door and into a taxi at the rank outside. This was going to be a tough job in more ways than one, he wondered if it was going to be worth it.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Harry sat and shook his head over and over. ‘Whatever about leaving me, going to work for that double-crossing bitch, are you mad?’

  ‘I’m sorry, Harry; I just got an offer that was too good to pass up.’

  ‘But you’ll be working for someone that can’t be trusted; you know that already, how do you know that she’ll even pay you?’

  ‘I’ll take my chances on that.’

  ‘And what about Sunspots, how are we going to manage the sales with our key salesman missing? You’re dropping me in the shit here, Tom, I expected better after all we’ve been through together.’