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Espresso Tales - Alexander Hanchett Smith [108]

By Root 593 0
wine goes through the roof. Two thousand pounds a bottle – easy! –

if it’s the right vintage. The 1990 goes for eight hundred a bottle. That’s not per case, Bruce, that’s per bottle. So nine thousand quid a case, for starters. Unless . . .”

Bruce, who had been looking at the floor, now looked up.

“Unless . . .”

Harry lowered his voice again. “Unless you have contacts. And I do. I have friends out there in Pomerol. Old friends. They see me right.”

“You’re very lucky,” said Bruce. “Contacts are important.”

“Well, you have contacts yourself, Bruce,” said Harry. “You’ve got me. I’m a contact of yours. I’ve got contacts of my own. My 226 The Best Laid Plans o’ Mice and Men

contacts are your contacts. And that’s how I can get you your three cases of Petrus. Simple.”

Bruce looked doubtful. “I’m just starting,” he said. “I’m not sure if I’ve got the money.”

“Money’s not a problem,” said Harry quickly. “I’m going to sell you this at a price you won’t believe. It’ll be my gesture of support for your new business.”

Bruce caught a glimpse of himself in a brewer’s mirror on the other side of the room. The sight encouraged him.

“How much?” he asked.

“All right,” said Harry. “Three cases of the 1990 at eight hundred quid a case. Three times eight hundred makes two thousand. No, it doesn’t, ha, ha! Deliberate error! Two thousand four hundred. But . . . but there’s an additional discount of four hundred since you’re starting up. And then you take off the three hundred that I always take off when it’s somebody from the rugby club on the other side. That makes seventeen hundred! Can you believe that? Seventeen hundred for three cases of 1900 Petrus!”

Bruce thought about it for a moment. He had hoped to keep his initial stock purchases as cheap as possible and then to branch out into more expensive wines later on, but this seemed to be too good an offer to turn down.

“When can I get them?” he asked.

“They’re in the car,” said Bruce. “Round the corner in Royal Circus.”

Bruce hesitated. Harry looked at him.

“You’re never going to get an offer like this again, Bruce,”

said Harry gravely. “You know that, don’t you?”

“You’re on,” said Bruce.

69. The Best Laid Plans o’ Mice and Men

Pleased beyond measure by the purchase of three cases of Chateau Petrus 1990 Pomerol at a price which could only be The Best Laid Plans o’ Mice and Men

227

considered a steal, Bruce returned to the flat in Scotland Street that evening in high spirits. He saw that Pat’s door was closed and knocked on it to offer to make her a cup of coffee. She was a strange girl, in his view, but she had proved to be a reasonably congenial flatmate and a reliable tenant. She opened the door in her stockinged feet.

“I’ll make you coffee if you like,” said Bruce generously.

“Unless you’ve got any better plans.”

Pat accepted his invitation and followed him into the kitchen. She asked him if he had started his new business.

“Today,” said Bruce. “I collected the keys of the shop. And I bought some wine.” He paused. The thought had suddenly occurred to him that he might need some help from time to time. Pat might well be interested. He would not have to pay her too much and she was at least a known quantity. “You wouldn’t by any chance like a part-time job, Patty-girl?”

Pat was taken by surprise. She could imagine nothing worse than working for Bruce. “That’s kind of you,” she said. “But I think that I’m all right where I am. Matthew needs me.”

Bruce’s face took on a sneering expression. “He can’t cope, can he? What a disaster area that guy is. If it weren’t for his old man he’d go to the wall. Believe me.”

Pat remained calm. “Actually, he made a profit in the first part of the year. Eleven thousand pounds.”

Bruce raised an eyebrow. “Eleven grand? How did he do that?”

“Buying and selling,” said Pat. “That’s what galleries do, you know.”

Bruce shrugged. “Running a gallery must be child’s play – if Matthew can make a profit. Mind you, eleven grand is not all that much these days.”

“You’ll make much more?” asked Pat.

“Sure,” said Bruce, spooning coffee into the

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