Espresso Tales - Alexander Hanchett Smith [40]
Agreement Is Reached
expensive, and one would need . . . what? One hundred thousand to start with?
He picked up his glass and tipped it back to drain the dregs of the Guinness.
“Let me buy you a drink,” he said to George. “And then I want to tell you about a scheme I’ve just thought up. And it involves you!”
George looked up at his friend with frank admiration. He had always wanted to be Bruce, but never could be; a silly, irrational desire.
“Great,” he said. “Me? Great.”
25. Agreement Is Reached
“All right,” said Bruce. “This is the deal.”
George smiled at him. “Go ahead.”
“You’ve got some capital, haven’t you?” Bruce said. “I don’t know what you’ve done with it, of course. But I assume that it’s reasonably intact.”
George shrugged. “Reasonably,” he said. “The market’s taken a hit, but I was never very keen on those dot-coms, and so I’m all right. Fairly safe stuff, I think.”
Bruce lowered his voice. “Do you mind my asking: who manages it?”
“Most of it is with a stockbroker over in Glasgow,” said George. “He moves it around.”
“Bonds?”
“Some,” said George. “Equities. A property fund. They say that you should spread the risk.”
Bruce laughed. “And they’re right,” he said, adding: “Except sometimes they’re so careful that you have no risk at all. They let things stagnate.”
George frowned. “Do you think . . . ?” He tailed off.
“Yes,” said Bruce. “I’m prepared to bet that you’re safe as the proverbial Banque d’Angleterre, but just as dull. Nothing’s ever Agreement Is Reached
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going to happen to your capital. Pure stagnation, George, my friend.”
George looked at Bruce with his small, pale eyes. “But . . .”
“But if you look to see who’s really making money,” said Bruce,
“who’s really coining it in: it’s the venture capital people, that’s who.”
George took a sip of his beer. “I thought that they didn’t necessarily do so well. There’s risk there, isn’t there?”
Bruce exploded into laughter. “Didn’t do too well? Have you seen the return they get? Twenty, thirty per cent. Easy.” He paused. “Of course, some of their projects don’t come up with the readies when the time’s come to offload, but those are the exceptions. Believe me, I’ve seen it.”
George smiled weakly. “You make me seem very unadventurous.”
Bruce patted him on the shoulder. “Just a bit, George. Just a bit.” He paused. The moment was right, he judged, and he was confident that George would agree. “But listen, here’s the plan. I’m prepared to cut you in on my wine business in return for an investment from you. We’ll split the profits down the middle, but you needn’t lift a finger. I’ll run the business. I’ll do the work. You . . . you’re the venture capitalist. This is your chance to get a piece of the action.”
He watched for George’s reaction, which was slow in coming. For a moment he wondered if he had been too quick to bring up the proposition, in which case he could merely give him time to think. George was not particularly quick on his feet – he had never been – and perhaps he would need time. But he would surely come round in the end, which should be in no more than an hour or so. In Bruce’s experience, George always came round to his suggestions.
George looked down at the table. “How much are you thinking of ?” he asked.
Bruce looked his friend in the eye. “We don’t want to be under-capitalised,” he said. “There’s nothing worse than starting a business at half-cock. If you do that, then you give the opposition a head start. I’ve seen under-capitalised businesses go under time and time again.”
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“Have you?” asked George. “Which ones?”
“Too many to mention,” Bruce replied quickly. “Believe me.”
“So how much?” asked George.
“One . . .” Bruce faltered, and stopped. “Fifty thousand,” he said. “Fifty thousand will set us up as long as the lease is not too expensive. Do you think you could manage that?”
George puckered his lips. It was a weak,