As Adam reached the door, the owner, Toby Stitch hurried out. Adam hadn’t expected him to be there so early in the evening.
Toby Sutch paused.
“I expect you’ve come to settle your account, Grant, without any trouble.” “
“That’s what I’m seeing Mike about,” Adam parried realizing what Toby meant by ‘trouble’. An immaculately dressed Old Harrovian, Toby Stitch was a tough bully, accustomed to being obeyed. His powerful selfconfidence attracted people who couldn’t control their gambling, and who often became dependent upon him. He introduced such people to moneylenders who provided six-month loans for four per cent monthly interest. Should there be a repayment problem, toughs visited the borrowers and persuaded them to pay up.
Adam entered Mike’s office without knocking.
“You’re late again, Adam,” Mike said from behind his rosewood desk.
“You’d better make this quick, because I’m meeting Miranda to show her a shop I’ve found in Pimlico.” iran da can wait.” Adam st in a leather chair and propped his feet up on the desk.
“I want a whisky and soda d a quick word with you, about Miranda’s business! “She’s expanding at the speed of light,” Mike said. Mirhad acquired seven shops in eighteen months, two of h had been found by Mike, who had property connecons, a good nose for a bargain, and plenty of free time during the day. Using her first shop as collateral, Miranda had borrowed from the bank to buy the lease of a second shop, near Holborn. Using the second lease as collateral, she had then similarly purchased the lease of a third shop. As she had launched her business just before a small London property boom, Miranda found that her collateral value seemed to increase weekly with no effort on her part: the steadily rising KITS profit figures reassured the bank of her ability to leverage property in this way.
Adam said, “She’s spending too much of her time on property deals when she should be running the business. She’s got an eye for good property,-but she’s not adept at dealing with the people who sell it: estate agents have little respect for a woman, particularly, it seems, if she’s young and pretty. But you, little brother, have a flair for real estate, and you know how to hand lethe agents: you can wine and dine them here, introduce them to some nice girls, drop the occasional envelope of cash, and learn to lose at golf. Then you’ll get first pick of properties for sale. It won’t take up much of your time. You’ll get two per cent commission.”
As he poured Adam’s drink, Mike’s clear grey eyes looked worried. He knew the hidden drawback to this reasonable-sounding deal: if he accepted it from Adam, Mike would be expected to persuade Toby Sutch to extend Adam’s credit. But Mike did not want to ask any favours, especially not from Toby.
Two per cent, “Adam said firmly. Reluctantly Mike nodded. Adam stood up.
“What Miranda needs is to get her operation under one roof. So look for a large industrial building, somewhere outside London, in central England where rents are lower. That way we can locate the factory, warehouse, garages, and offices in the same place.”
“Why not build?” Mike suggested.
“No time. “Adam downed his drink and left.
FRIDAY, 24 APRIL 1964
“I love it, Buzz,” Elinor said as she waited on the south terrace for her guests to arrive: the traditional finishing feast for the builders was about to start. Saracen would be ready just in time for the film festival. This year, Sam would have one of the most impressive backgrounds on the Riviera to conduct his business.
The stone masons wives had baked pizzas and prepared huge bowls of chopped tomatoes, olives, and onion, marinated cucumber, walnuts, and lambs’-foot lettuce all tossed in the local salad dressing that used sesame oil instead of olive. Champagne and Provengal vin rose had been opened, and the homemade lemonade was pressed from local lemons.
Elinor had enjoyed every minute of the restoration. Her French architect had strengthened the structure and roof beams, then renewed the tiles on roof and terrace. He tore out the foul-smelling bathroom and the kitchen, which consisted only of a sink with a cold tap, and installed a new kitchen and many bathrooms. All peeling wallpaper was scraped off, and the walls and ceilings were plastered creamy-white magnolia. Windows were replaced, woodwork painted, and floors polished. The new electrical system provided indirect fighting, so the walls and ceilings glowed.
d VI Aile this work was in progress, Elinor and Buzz vi site auction houses of Nice, Toulon, and Draguignan. They frequented antique shops off the beaten track, in the hills, where they purchased splendid beds, fruit wood tables, armoires, and charming antique chairs; modern sofas were ordered from Nice. The village dressmaker, Madame Ansewed all the curtains, made of cream linen, after “Elinor purchased four bales at a Toulon auction. During the restoration work, Elinor and Buzz stayed alternately at the hotel de Provence and the Fountain Hotel; fierce rivals, they faced each other across the Place de la Republique. The Provence was ran by a matriarch of ormous family. ninety-three, Madame Sartour, and her en
The Fountain was run by a male couple, Americans, known as les pedes. When the Fountain hired a chic Paris decorator to install soft lighting and cover the walls in toile de Jouy, the Provence didn’t bother to change its unflattering fluorescent lighting but installed a swimming pool. The Fountain retaliated by moving fourposter beds into all the best suites, whereupon the Provence announced Saturday evening barbecues … Now, content with the results of her building upheaval, Elinor leaned against the terrace balustrade and looked up at the chateau. The newly painted white shutters were faintly tinged with pink, a blush applied by the still-golden evening sky.
Seeing her pleased expression, Buzz asked, “What do you like best about it, Nell?” To Buzz’s surprise, Elinor did not pick the spectacular view, or the silver fourposter bed that had once belonged to a Spanish princess, or the elevator that plunged three hundred feet down to the beach.
Elinor slowly smiled.
“I like to think that Billy would be proud of me.” Buzz stared at
Elinor; she knew that took on her friend’s face.” Elinor was playing one of her own heroines. This place was like one of the stately, homes in her novels; here in Saracen, Elinor could live in the sort of imaginary world she created for her readers a world she had actually come to believe in, where she no longer separated reality from fantasy, fact from fiction. Part of Elinor’s fantasy was the myth of Billy O’Dare, the perfect romantic lover; in her mind, she had re-created him as a strong, dependable hero, forgetting his weaknesses, his excesses, and his ill-treatment of her.
Buzz turned for a moment and looked at her friend. They had known each other so long, and still Elinor amazed her. Billy! How she clung to his memory, reinventing him still, after all these years. Buzz knew there was no point in once again trying to remind Nell of the true nature behind Billy O’Dare’s easy and intoxicating charm. He had been the one man she truly loved, and there would never be another.
“I wonder … I wonder what he would say if he knew I had bought a castle for myself,” Elinor said.
Buzz suspected that Billy would laugh and say, “You could buy Buckingham Palace, old girl, but you won’t change Marjorie’s opinion of you.” Buzz said, “I’m sure Billy would be proud of you, Nell.” MONDAY, 12 OCTOBER 1964 Miranda, her long flaming hair pulled behind a navy Alice band, wore a navy dress with a white organdie Pierrot collar for the first executive meeting in her new sales office - a converted warehouse off Oxford Street, found by Mike. Sitting at the head of her egg-shaped, white plastic boardroom table, she was surrounded by her male executives. Adam sat on Miranda’s right; she had recently persuaded him to join her board as a part-time director.
Adam had appeared reluctant to accept this appointment d had pleaded other commitments, but he had finally capitulated after Miranda agreed that, should KITS ever go public, she would sell Adam fifteen per cent of the total issued shares, at a nominal sale price of fifteen thousand pounds. Miranda considered this share option a minor concession compared to the advantage of having the experienced Adam on a board composed of people who were young, enthusiastic, and talented but had never before been directors of a company. Adam made Miranda feel safe.
For a brief moment, Miranda wished that her two sisters could see her, sitting at the head of her boardroom table while everyone listened to her and took notes of what she said. No longer was she the littlest sister, to whom no one paid any attention. She was an emerging star of the business world.
Miranda said, “The first item on our agenda is the acquisition of Framwells.” This was an ailing chain of small London tobacconist shops, which had not yet been put on the market. KITS financial resources, already stretched to their limit, would be subjected to even greater strain should KITS acquire Framwells. But they could not risk this unique chain falling into the hands of a rival. So the board voted to buy Framwells. It would be expensive, but worth it.
All further items on the agenda were briskly agreed upon, until the final item, a hosiery manufacturer’s offer of a licensing deal, which caused argument.
Adam spoke persuasively in favour of the deal.
“We would get an assured income for lending the KITS name and logo and publicly endorsing the product. All you have to do, Miranda, is make a few public appearances wearing their tights: they then have a public image, While we have a decent profit margin without working for it.”
Linda Grey nodded; she was no longer Miranda’s assistant, but publicity manager.
“We’ve built up a very clear image of a young, smart, intelligent woman who wants sophisticated merchandise at reasonable prices, and we project that image through Miranda herself. Customers buy her products because they see her on TV and read about her in the papers. They see Miranda as glamorous, fashionable, and giving good value. We have a high-profile managing director who projects a household name.”
“Yes, that’s our asset, and we’re not fully exploiting it,” Adam said.
Miranda wrinkled her forehead.
“You said the same sort of thing about franchising. I know this sounds like money for nothing, but that’s what’s worrying me.” Linda said, “If anything’s wrong with the product, the manufacturer won’t get blamed by the customer KITS will.”
“And that dissatisfied customer won’t only stop buying the tights she’ll also stop buying KITS cosmetics,”-Miranda said. She added, firmly, “We can never be sure that goods sold under our name are up to standard if they’re manufactured by somebody else -because we don’t control the quality.”
Adam smiled.
“Would you agree, theoretically, that it is a good idea to use our name to sell other goods if we can control the quality of those goo ds?” Looking puzzled, Miranda nodded.
“We employ full-time marketing experts because that’s cheaper than using consultants, and it gives us more control’” Adam said.
“So we have a firstclass, underemployed marketing division.”
“That’s unavoidable, until we can afford to expand,” Miranda said defensively.
Adam smiled again.
“Then why don’t we set up an acquisitions office, to buy oldfashioned firms that are solidly established but getting nowhere because they have no clear image, so nobody wants to buy their products? of licensing tights, why don’t we buy some ailing P’tocidng firm such as Daintyfeet and put our name on
The financial director, Ned Sinclair, threw up his thin hands in protest.
“You’re suggesting that we turn KITS into a holding company!”
“Why not?” Adam said. “We’d be running before we can walk!” Ned objected.
“But it’s boom time,” Linda said slowly.
“And very few manufacturers understand what’s happening in fashion right now.” Adam nodded.
“Exactly. The Youthquake.” Everyone started to talk at once.
Two weeks later, the board of KITS decided that the holding company project would be pursued, provided adequate financing could be arranged. The new company would be called SUPPLY KITS to avoid confusion with KITS.
Adam’s responsibility as commercial director would be the development of SUPPLY KITS He would seek small companies with a weak image, which needed design, publicity, and marketing services but had good management staff. There was one essential ingredient to every potential company: it had to generate cash, in order to provide SUPPLY KITS with a steady income, with which to repay the bank loan necessary for its acquisition.
“Adam ” d’you think you’ll be able to do all this while working part-timeT Miranda asked worriedly as the two of them sat in the boardroom after the office had closed. I “I don’t see why not, “Adam said, pouring Dom Prignon for both of them.
“Mike finds the companies and Ned produces the figures I need from
their own accounts.” “Mike’s last bill was pretty high.” 28o I The contract I drew up specifies that Mike gets two per cent, but it doesn’t specify w1wn.”
“You mean…”
“Legally, we could wait a thousand years before paying it., Miranda said sharply.
“If I buy somebody’s services, I want to pay for them.”
“Business is business,” Adam said.
“My little brother should have checked out his contract with a lawyer.” He topped up her glass.
“Relax, Miranda. Business isn’t a life or-death matter it’s a sort of game, a huge gamble; it’s exciting, and that’s something you seem to have forgotten lately.”
“I worry that the stakes are getting so high, so fast.”
“That’s what’s exciting!” Adam said, his eyes shining.
“Perhaps it’s getting too exciting for me,” Miranda suggested. She noticed that Adam had relaxed the careful reserve with which he normally treated her.
“There’s no such thing as too much excitement.” Adam grinned.
“Especially not when you’re around, Miranda. You create it, you know.” Surprised, Miranda looked at Adam’s handsome face. Was he really flirting with her? Was she reading an invitation in those dancing brown eyes? Did she want to? Miranda remembered the painful calf love she had felt for Adam long ago in St-Tropez, when she was a vulnerable, flat-chested schoolgirl. She remembered Adam’s perfunctory politeness, and her misery.