A Pocketful of Dreams

Chapter Three

Dan hurried off the pedestrianized street behind the Radcliffe Camera Observatory and into the small bistro, hoping that George Appleby, his employer's biggest client, hadn't already left after the insult of Dan turning up late.

As a senior property consultant, Dan had been working on securing a new location in the city centre for Footloose, George Appleby's shoe-store chain, and it looked as though the empty unit at the Olde Oxford shopping arcade was going to fit the bill. The deal shouldn't have caused any headaches, but Bruno, the arcade's manager, had been hesitant to commit – and George Appleby didn't like to be kept waiting.

With that in mind, Dan quickened his step.

'Mr Appleby, I'm so sorry I'm late.' Dan held his hand out to the rotund old man at the head of the table.

'Collins, glad you could join us.' Appleby's piggy eyes swept quickly over Dan's hand, which was left unshaken. 'I was just about to leave. I'm a busy man, you know. Got a big meeting with Wilkins and Son this afternoon.'

'Well, I won't delay your busy schedule any longer, sir,' Dan responded evenly as he sat down.

'I should hope not.' Appleby squeezed his napkin into the tiny crevice between the table and his portly stomach. 'Now, where are my figures? And do we have a signature yet?'

Dan ignored the glare emanating from his colleague, Ed Harper, and pulled out a chair. 'The figures are being formatted into a report as we speak. I should have it to you by—'

'You mean to tell me you've filled up my precious appointment time even though you have no new information for me?' A scarlet bloom rose in Appleby's cheeks. 'At least you're paying for lunch...'

'No, Mr Appleby, the report's ready!' Ed interrupted. 'However, my colleague got... caught in traffic and wasn't able to collect it from the office before our meeting. Isn't that right, Dan?'

Dan looked at Ed through narrowed eyes, grudgingly grateful for the assistance. If there was one thing Ed Harper was good at, it was making excuses.

'Technically speaking,' he said through gritted teeth, 'that's correct. I'll have the report biked over this afternoon.'

Distracted by a waiter bringing a bowl of soup his way, the old man muttered, 'See that you do, Collins, see that you do. Lately I'm of the mind that you two aren't singing from the same hymn sheet, and if you're going to be wasting any more of my time then I may well have to consider jumping ship. Time is money, gentlemen,' he boomed, then practically dove into his beef consommé.

Dan nearly sighed in relief. Next to money, food was the best distraction where George Appleby was concerned.

'Why were you late?' Ed hissed, leaning over, 'and where the heck is that report?'

'I got sidetracked. I was at Olde Oxford but I had to pick up some stuff for the family.'

'Oh, please,' Ed snorted. 'Your priority should be the client, not your family.'

Dan's patience, usually carefully held with both Appleby and Ed, was dissipating at a rate of knots. 'My family is the most important thing to me. And besides, you could have taken care of the report yourself, seeing as you came straight from the office. It'd make a nice change for you to actually do some work for once.'

Unmoved by Dan's jibe, Ed simply smirked. 'What do you know about family? It's not like you've got a wife or kids.' Then he chuckled, turned to Appleby, and complimented him on his university college club tie, which already had soup on it.

Dan's fists curled beneath the table. It took all his strength not to stand up, walk out, and leave the obsequious Ed to it.

To his relief, however, the rest of the meal passed largely without incident. Ed kept up a nice line in smarmy compliments which, terrible though they were, Appleby always liked hearing.

'So, Collins, let's get some meat on the bones of this deal. What's our projected completion date?' Appleby asked as he dumped cream into his coffee.

It had to come. The one question Dan didn't want to answer.

'I'm afraid we don't have one yet. The manager is still unsure about bringing a chain store on to the premises.'

'How utterly ridiculous! My company is one of the most successful retail conglomerates in the country!' Appleby thumped his ham-like fist on the table before shoving his fingers into a bowl of sugar cubes.

'I quite agree, George,' Ed piped up. 'It's a shocking error in judgement on the manager's part.'

Dan passed him a sideways look. So it's 'George' now?

'Why in God's name doesn't this Bruno character want to commit?' the old man blustered, stirring his coffee so vigorously Dan was surprised the china didn't shatter. 'We're offering more than enough money – although, really, the cachet of having an Appleby brand in place should be compensation enough.'

'It's not a financial problem,' Dan said.

'So what's the hold-up? Get to the point, Collins.'

'Well, last year Olde Oxford brought in their first major chain store. It—'

'He means Book Box,' Ed interrupted, leaning forward.

'I'm quite aware of that, Mr Harper,' Appleby snapped. 'I do keep up with retail news, you know.'

'So, Book Box has enjoyed a fantastic first year,' Dan continued, 'and Bruno is pleased with the increased customer footfall, but until now every shop in the Olde Oxford was independently owned. We're talking over a hundred years of that arcade showcasing small businesses only. About three months after Book Box opened, the small independently owned bookshop that was already there closed down. Since then, the other stores – and the manager – have become very wary of chain companies taking up residence. It's a slippery slope when the city's already lost too many independent businesses.'

'So? It's not the shopkeepers' choice, is it?' Appleby retorted. 'They have no say in who moves in. Retail's tough, Mr Collins, and the independents should learn that.'

An image of Annie and her small gift shop entered Dan's mind. He wanted to tell Appleby that he'd crossed the line. After all, even the old man's company must have started somewhere – but Dan kept his feelings to himself.

'You're right,' he responded evenly. 'They don't get a say on who moves in, but they've made their views quite clear to Bruno, as have some of the customers.'

'In what way? Don't tell me they're going to strike!' Appleby chortled and the glasses on the table clinked together. Ed joined in, but Dan remained silent.

'They're not going to strike. But they can make life very difficult for Bruno if they want to, and there's been talk of some customers starting a petition to support the arcade staying independent. Apart from anything else, I'm told it was always Bruno's grandfather's vision that the arcade would be populated by traditional stores only.'

'Well, the recession's put paid to that, hasn't it?' Ed snorted. 'The independents are too much of a risk, and money should be the bottom line. If Bruno wants the arcade to continue trading then he needs to put his trust in the chain stores.'

'Couldn't have put it better myself,' Appleby said. 'So, what do you suggest, Mr Collins? Shall I take my business elsewhere? Or perhaps I need to be looking at somebody more competent to seal this deal...'

The old man's beady eyes bored into Dan's. If he let this deal slip away, his employers would lose their biggest client.

'No, Mr Appleby,' he said quietly. 'Don't go elsewhere. We'll . . . we'll work something out.'

'Good man!' Appleby leaned over and clapped Dan on the shoulder so hard he had to grip the arms of his chair to stay upright. 'Now, I'll tell you what we're going to do. We're going to show Bruno that we mean business. I don't care if it means those little shops have to wave their prissy little flags and Old Mrs Perkins and her blue-rinse bingo buddies have to shop elsewhere. Let's push 'em out and let the big boys in!'

Thank you for reading!

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