Chapter Eight: Prospects

I was trying to get some plans out of Mark. How was his business doing? Was he doing better? Did he still require all that money to be sent every month? How did he view the future of the hotel?

What concerned me was the way he would frequently change his mind. Sometimes he was positive about the future, next year

‘Harry we can start looking at the next hotel.’

Or on another occasion he would say that he was doing badly and might have to place the hotel on the market. I had to forcefully and tactfully remind him that he was playing with three people’s lives - Pam, me, and Aunty Joan. Not to mention those of the hotel staff, who were committing their future in our hands.

A lot of the time I felt insecurity. We were into the hotel ownership for six months and here he was talking about selling, without consulting me first to boot. He regarded me as an employee, not partner, he could never seem to get his head around our financial arrangement. He was hooked up to me, like it or not. I am a pretty even tempered sort of person, but like many other people, if you wind me up, then I have a habit of reacting, sometimes badly, and that was what was occurring between Mark and me. Pam is a traditional peacemaker, typical Libran she assures me, calming the pair of us down. It was an easy summer, until Mark and Deanna came over in the September for their second visit.

I collected them from Heathrow, the journey was nice and relaxed, but I could somehow sense something underlying I couldn’t place my finger on. They were over for a week, returning via London for an overnight stay at the Savoy Hotel. He was continuing with his grand lifestyle, despite being based on sand. That news was to come.

For many years Pam and I had enjoyed a day trip to the northern French coast, either through the tunnel or on the ferry. Sometimes I drove, sometimes we took seats with a local coach company. The day trip for Mark and Deanna and Pam and I was to be on the coach for a day trip to Le Touquet.

This is a delightful little town about an hours’ drive south along the coast from Calais. We know the area very well, so were anticipating a great day out, showing our friends the sights. We were away by 7am, through the tunnel nice and quick, late morning found us sitting outside a pavement café enjoying the atmosphere. They wanted to shop. We went into a gents’ outfitters, one of the most expensive he could find because it is a pricey town in any case, and he bought a Panama hat for 200 Euros. Pam and I couldn’t believe he could spend so much money on one hat.

Deanna bought some delightful perfume, and then it was time for lunch. Of course, this was paid for on the company credit card, entertaining clients as the excuse, we had a fabulous long lunch. Then it was back buying more clothing, this time it was a leather belt for 50 Euros. Must have been a bloody good belt.

The coach was waiting for us, we weren’t the last ones on but not far off, but it was during the 45 minutes standing in front of the coach parked on the train inside the tunnel that he made some revelations.

He casually mentioned that his two brothers and one of his two sisters had all been inside a US prison at one time or another. Their crimes were mostly the same. Bank robbery. Only he and one sister hadn’t served time.

What! My business partner was part of a family of felons!

‘What about Deanna?’

‘Oh no, she’s been nothing to do with the family business.’

Now I knew he had no sense of humour, also appreciating the fact that he was almost teetotal, so I knew instinctively he was telling the truth. Go on, what would you have said in the circumstances? Would you have said

‘What, were you the getaway driver?’

***

But Mark hadn’t finished there.

‘My business is doing so bad that I won’t be able to last until Christmas. I’m going to have to put the Sheldon on the market.’

The rest of the coach journey was spent in stunned silence, while I whispered to Pam what he had just imparted. The selling the hotel bit, not the America’s Most Wanted. That was going to have to wait.

We spoke little to them for the next couple of days, wanting to let their news settle down a bit. Over dinner however, I raised the subject again, this time so the two ladies could be privy.

‘So Mark, how bad is it really for you in California? Will you honestly struggle to last until Christmas? Why don’t you sell your motorhome. That looked pretty good when I saw it parked up, you never use it, that should make quite a few dollars.’

‘I’m not selling that, we like to get away in it as often as we can.’

‘And the last time you did that was???’

‘It’s not up for discussion. We are not affecting our lifestyle, we will sell the hotel. It’s not as if we have a partnership agreement, so I can do as I like.’

‘So you expect us to give up everything we have worked for, invested all our life’s work, live in rented accommodation for the rest of our lives, have no job because at our age we are unemployable, no savings, no prospects, just because you are a little bored with your little Eastbourne toy. Oh dear, it’s not giving you the instant return that you dreamed of, it’s actually going to have to have some time and patience devoted to it. I wonder who’s doing that at present? That’s right, Pam and me.’

‘No need to be like that, I am only telling you what’s going to happen.’

‘I don’t think so. Have a word with our solicitor, he’ll put you straight. But let me be straight with you. Stop treating Pam and me as employees. We are not. We are partners. We trusted you, stop even thinking this way.’

Our reaction was one of horror, I had to be civil to the man, but I was rapidly losing all respect for him as a person, even less as a businessman, and was extremely annoyed with myself for being in this precarious position. We were going to have to be very firm with him and his stupid ideas.

***

We had known Jean and Clive (again, not real names, but sufficiently close for them to be anonymous) for many years. They had worked together, our friendship had been very close, so it was a natural development to introduce them to Mark and Deanna.

Clive was involved in a local bus museum as a volunteer vehicle restorer, had a licence to drive buses, liked country music with the line dancing, so it was natural that not only did we socialise for dancing, but we also went out together as a foursome quite a lot. He worked for us for a while as a part time driver, the clients liked him, so he took Mark quite a few times when they came over on social trips.

On one memorable evening, Clive was out driving one of our chauffeured clients in London. He was outside an expensive restaurant, just waiting, chatting to another driver. Clive was explaining about the volume of sight-seeing we did, the number of clients we took on day-long trips, the other driver was on more mundane journeys. He said to Clive

‘I would like to do more sight-seeing jobs, but I don’t know how to go about it. How do I get this extra quality work?’

Clive replied ‘f*****g hard work.’ He knew the amount of effort I put into my business, gaining quality clients prepared to pay decent prices for the upscale standard of professional service provided. We endeavoured to maintain that standard to our hotel.

The six of us, Jean and Clive, Mark and Deanna, and Pam and me, ate together in our Cheam house as well every visit they made, so the friendship was firm. I am not a practical man, but Clive is, being very handy both with design as well as application. That was another reason for them to get on so well, it was another reason why Pam and I jumped at the chance to going into partnership with Mark and Deanna, because they had not only been introduced into our circle of friends, they had been accepted over quite a period of time.

Both Mark and Clive are tall men, each well over six feet, whereas I am only a little fella, I won’t say that they looked down on me, but they certainly regarded their stature as superior. I didn’t care, because I have always had the confidence to carry off my height, but on reflection this could have been a reason for their ultimate behaviour. As usual, as on most of their trips to the UK, Mark and Deanna met up with Clive and Jean on this visit. We had dinner on the last night before they went to London for their stay before returning to California, and it was during this dinner that it became obvious the two men had already discussed the business relationship. They made it clear that it would have been far more beneficial had those two gone into a business relationship, instead of me and Pam. I wasn’t rude, despite their insult, purely because they were so insensitive that they had no idea what they had said.

Clive said to Mark ‘it would have been much better if we had got together. I have the money, the practical skills, but I definitely don’t have the marketing ability that Harry has. But then again, Jean does.’

It went a little quiet.

Me. ‘So you think that matters would be a lot better with you four instead of us four.’

Mark. ‘Sorry Harry, but that is definitely the truth. Clive knows his way around a toolbox, and Jean knows her way around a balance sheet.’

Me. ‘Ah, but would it even have got off the ground without Pam and me organising everything. You would have just been sitting on your hands, waiting and waiting for the right opportunity. Whereas now, we have a wonderful hotel, prospects as long as they are not harmed by mismanagement, and a great future to anticipate. Unless there’s something you’re not telling me?’

Mark and Clive exchanged a very meaningful look, which told me so much about the pair of them. Perfidy was in the air. So were secrets.

Mark and Deanna returned back to California, leaving us in something of a state of limbo, but trade was still good, we were gaining an excellent reputation in the hotel trade, and we had successfully kept our expenses manageable.

***

When Mark and Deanna had returned, we again settled into a routine, until I received a phone call from a business lady who was about twenty miles away.

‘Hello, is that Mr. Pope.’

‘Speaking.’

‘Mr name is ..(I honestly can’t remember her name, it is not important in any case), ‘and I am an interior designer.’

I said nothing, so she continued

‘I have been instructed by Mr. _ in America to have a look at the Sheldon Hotel.’

‘What for?’

‘With a view to re-designing the ground floor of the hotel.’

‘It looked OK to me the last time I looked, and that was ten minutes ago.’

‘Well, he is the owner, and he has instructed me.’

‘Are you aware of the ownership structure of the hotel?’

‘He is the owner.’

‘Joint owner. In partnership with his wife, me, and my wife. There are four owners. There are four partners.’

‘I was not aware of that. However, I have an instruction from him, so I would like to make an appointment to come and view.’

‘Let me ask you a question.’

‘Yes, what would you like to know.’

‘What is your fee?’

‘£50 per hour.’

‘And how many hours do you anticipate this viewing will take.’

‘I like to allow a full day.’

‘What, eight hours?’

‘That is correct.’

‘And who do you expect to pay your account.’

‘The hotel.’

‘Not the man who has given you the instruction?’

‘No, he made it clear that he was not responsible for settling my account, that was the responsibility of the Sheldon.’

‘Okay, for the sake of harmony, I will tell you what is going to happen. There is not going to be an open-ended arrangement as to time. You will be here for four hours. No more, no less. I will give you freedom to walk around the hotel, making notes. Before you leave, we will discuss what you have in mind. You will present me with an account, and the hotel will give you a cheque for £200. I will not quibble about your hourly rate. How does that sound to you.’

‘Not particularly friendly, and it’s not the way that I am used to doing things.’

‘Sorry, but that’s the way it is. When do you want to come?’

And that was how it was left. The lady made her appointment, and I then sent an e-mail to Mark. I don’t have a copy of this e-mail, don’t really need one, but it went something like this:

‘Morning Mark, have just had an interesting phone conversation with an interior designer lady. I have made an appointment with her for .. and will report back to you. This came right out of the blue, wonder why you didn’t think to inform me. Not only rude, but embarrassing.’

The lady turned up on the appointed day and time, suitably dressed. Have you ever noticed how all lady interior designers wear a designer scarf, it’s a kind of uniform, and they also often have a letter ‘Q’ in either of their names. I gave her free access to all public areas, didn’t let her loose on any of the guest rooms. She was offered refreshments, which were accepted, and had a lovely wander around. With about half an hour to go, I emerged and sat her down in the lounge so we could have a chat. I also had the company cheque book with me.

‘So, what do you think?’

‘Well, the hotel owner is my client, so I can’t discuss too much with you.’

‘Okay, do you want to get paid?’

‘Of course.’

‘As I explained to you on the phone, there are four partners. Equal. I am one.’

‘But he said to me not to discuss with anyone but himself.’

‘Okay, then send him your account.’

‘We may have an area for compromise. Suppose you ask me questions, then I will answer.’

‘What rooms do you think require attention.’

‘All rooms on the ground floor.’

‘How long will it take for you to complete any contract you may be given.’

‘About a month.’

‘And how much will these rooms cost. Bear in mind we are only talking about the lounge, bar, dining room, and possibly reception area.’

‘£25,000.’

‘What workmen would you use.’

‘My own contractors.’

‘So you would get a rake-off from them as well as your fee.’

‘Putting it crudely like that, yes.’

‘I would insist we used my own men who I have used and have complete confidence in.’

‘I only use my own staff, and this is non-negotiable.’

‘Do you have your account as suggested?’

‘Yes, here it is.’

I gave her a cheque for £200.

‘Sorry, but you won’t be hearing from me again, and I will inform my partner that he won’t be instructing you either.’

‘I am sorry to hear that. May I ask why.’

‘The hotel has only been in our ownership for six months. All money we take is ploughed back, there just isn’t anything to spare. Tight budget, and winter’s coming, our first winter, and really don’t know what to expect.’

‘I appreciate that, but bear in mind that if you invest, then you will be able to get a better class of guest, raise your room rates, be better off all round.’

I replied ‘yes, I know all that, but we don’t have that kind of capital to spare, so we would have to borrow from the bank. I’m not going to go into our finances with you, but due to the property crash over the past three months we are already in negative equity, and the bank just won’t lend the money for a project of this nature.’

‘Okay, here’s my card, I will report back to California in any case.’

‘I would appreciate a copy of that report please as the hotel has paid for it.’

Of course, the report never materialised, I never saw a copy of it, I suspect it stayed in American hands, never to be seen again.

I e-mailed my partner after she had gone, along the lines of

‘Well, Mark, she’s gone, and wanted to spend £25,000 on just the public areas. Do you have that kind of money to spend? I know the hotel doesn’t, I know I don’t, and I know that I would not be prepared to support any application you may make to the bank if you wanted to raise the money from that direction. What do you think about it all? Can you afford it?’

His reply was along the lines of okay, let’s put these plans on hold, but I would want to return to them when the hotel can afford it.