The Stone

by Graham Adams

  The factory was buzzing with rumours. ‘The ogre had gone, who kicked him out?’ The atmosphere in the offices also lifted one hundred percent, and for the first time Ivor came upstairs into his office. Edmund indicated to him to keep his voice down, Kevin was still in his office.

  ‘How did you do it Edmund? I know it was you, so tell me,’ Ivor asked.

  ‘One down, one to go Ivor, I’ll tell you all that is when number two has gone.’ Edmund whispered, pointing downstairs. Ivor just couldn’t suppress his huge laugh. Edmund was a bit scared that someone would add up two and two, but no one made four, so he had got away with that one.

  Three months later Kevin had gone, on some pretext that he was starting up a new business, having sold his shares for a huge profit. So Edmund wished him well, and reminded him that the Inland Revenue would have to be informed of any profits made on sale of shares, in respect of Capital gains tax. Edmund felt a bit sorry for Kevin.

  Firstly he knew that Kevin had only got face value for the shares he owned and he had made no profit on them. But Kevin just couldn’t get over the big ego that his position gave him. In the end it was his ego that he tripped over.

  The first stage was completed, and there were two offices to fill, so he went over to Tony and Ivor and asked them to join him in the boardroom. He laid out the new structure of the board, which was to be: Ivor as the Managing Director, Tony as the Technical Director and Edmund as the Finance Director. The banks appointed a new representative who would visit every three months, and Edmund would report to him.

  The two men were delighted, and Ivor congratulated Edmund on a job well done.

  ‘Well Ivor, the job isn’t done not by a long way. Firstly before we get down to business, I expect you are wondering what has happened to the shares they owned. Well, I want to know if either of you are interested in buying any of them?’ Edmund had convinced them that at a pound face value, the shares were a bargain.

  Tony who was nearing retirement, and previously had had his salary held down low by the other two directors as well as having been treated so badly by them, he decided to decline the invitation. Therefore thirty thousand shares were up for grabs, so Edmund and Ivor split them half way.

  The new board of directors agreed to meet each week, to discuss what had happened in the previous week, and, as Edmund had requested, to discuss the plan going forward. It was truly an exciting time for the three of them. Ivor proposed the promotion of his pet salesman Simon to be the Sales Manager, but Edmund was a bit suspicious of him, but was eventually proved wrong.

  This was the time when the EU legislation was starting to bite in respect of Product Licences for the treatment of animals grown for consumption. The Company had some licences, and he made the rest of the board aware that, going forward, the only way for the company to survive, was to get more licences approved by the Ministry.

  Tony was charged to head up that part of the operation. Ivor was the hardest challenge however. Edmund had to appeal to his greatest weakness, greed. There’s nothing better than a hungry salesman, but Ivor was always starving. He was utterly ruthless when it came to selling, that’s why he was so good at it.

  Edmund’s aim therefore was to get him to sell profitable goods only. If he could prove to Ivor that selling quality over quantity would make him lots of money, he would change the whole concept of the way the company would be run. Edmund could never win an argument with Ivor, but he knew someone who could, Ivor’s protégé, the new Sales Manager, Simon.

  Simon was so ambitious he was like a Rottweiler. Say kill, and he would kill! Edmund made a secret proposition to him; he outlined a new bonus scheme that would be based on profit, not sales. He illustrated how much he could earn by not selling some of the larger 25kg lines, and concentrating on the 100g sachet lines. Simon was quickly sold on the idea, hook line and sinker.

  Edmund then asked the new Managing Director, for whom he had just bought a Renault 25 V6 Turbo, in order to sweeten him up, if he would listen to Simon’s idea for a bonus scheme, and that it would be self-financing. Simon knew how to put it over to his boss, and said to Edmund that Ivor would agree straight away, and he did. Immediately Ivor ordered Simon to arrange a sales meeting that week to spell the scheme out to the rest of the sales force.

  That one act transformed the company overnight. The previous year the turnover had been three million and the profit was fifty thousand. The following year the turnover was four million and the net profit was five hundred thousand. Multiplied by ten times! By the end of that year Edmund had taught Ivor how to read the accounts, so by then, the whole of his thinking was about profit.

  20: No Comfort in Iberia

  Flamenco dancers

  Tony, who had agreed to expand the licences for the company, walked into Edmund’s office one day with a very tall bearded man in his wake. ‘Morning Edmund, this is Dr Wheeler.’ The tall man leaned forward and shook his hand.

  ‘Please call me Theo, pleased to meet you.’

  ‘Theo is going to help me get some new licences Edmund, and I want you to approve his post as Technical Advisor. Theo, show Edmund your card.’ He passed his business card to Edmund, and when he read it he was amazed. There were seven different sets of scientific qualifications on it.

  ‘The Ministry think very highly of Theo, as you can well see, Edmund. He is I’m sure, the most highly qualified Vet on the planet.’ Tony looked admiringly at him, though Theo looked a bit sheepish as he took back his card.

  ‘Have you got any particular licences in mind for us Theo?’ Edmund asked.

  ‘Yes I do Edmund; I have a Danish friend who runs a company in Barcelona. He has offered us a licence for a unique product for pigs which is my speciality, so we need to get over there to see how the land lies.’ Theo answered.

  ‘We, do you mean you and Tony?’ Edmund asked him.

  Tony looked up. ‘No Edmund, he means you and him.’

  Edmund smiled at Theo. ‘Look; I have no knowledge of Pharmaceuticals, and even less in the licensing of them.’

  ‘Tony tells me that you know a lot about people. I don’t. I need your support, every step of the way, Olaf is a nice guy, but I’ve never done business with him. You will ensure we get the best deal.’ Theo explained.

  ‘What does Ivor think about me going over there, Tony?’ Edmund asked.

  ‘He wants the best for the Company, so he wants you to go. It will take at least a couple of weeks though, that’s what Theo says.’ Tony answered and Theo’s long black beard moved in agreement.

  ‘I suppose I don’t have any choice. When do you want to go Theo?’ Edmund asked him.

  ‘What about the day after tomorrow?’ Theo asked.

  ‘Are you serious? That’s this Thursday.’ Edmund gulped.

  Tony put his hand on Edmund’s shoulder. ‘Where’s your sense of adventure old son, you haven’t got anyone at home to worry about you have you?’ They all laughed together. ‘You might find a nice senorita waiting there for you.’

  ‘OK, Ok I’ll get Suzy to organise the tickets and hotel, do you want to go up to Heathrow with me?’ Edmund asked as he looked at the bearded Theo.

  ‘No, I’ll get up there under my own steam, as I live in the Cheddar Gorge, and you’re not on my way up there’ Theo smiled as they left Edmunds office.

  ‘What have I done?’ Edmund thought, forebodingly.

  If anyone had to visit Barcelona, then it would be perfect to arrive with Theo. Passing through the Airport reception gates, they were oddest couple of men. One was an Accountant who was dressed like one; the other looked like he had just been on the Silk Route to Kathmandu! However, Theo was fluent in Spanish, German and Portuguese, and Edmund thought to himself, ‘any other language if he needed to.’

  After checking in at the hotel, there was plenty of time to be tourists, so they decided to look at Sigrada Familia the famous Gaudi unfinished cathedral. Gaudi had turned all the traditional rules of architecture on their heads. The spires are the most
unusual in the world. Edmund was just awe struck.

  The following day Olaf was waiting for them in his office, just off the Diagonal, the main thoroughfare that bisects the city. The first meeting wasn’t a success, as Olaf was not sure what they really wanted from him. Something lost in translation perhaps. The next day Saturday, Olaf took them to the outskirts of the city to view his manufacturing plant. Theo was a bit more interested than Edmund, as he was more interested in the Company Accounts that Olaf let him pore over.

  On Saturday evening Olaf picked them up at their hotel early in the evening to take them to his home for a meal. He lived in a small village high in the Pyrenees, about ten miles away. In the winter it was a ski resort. The journey however, was a nightmare, and highly stressful for Edmund. He was in the backseat of Olaf’s Alpha 164 Lusso. Olaf was a very calm individual, but he drove like a maniac, especially on the narrow mountain roads. It seemed to Edmund that he was trying to prove something to them.

  His house overlooked a spectacular green valley that stretched for miles, Maria his Spanish wife had obviously taken great pains to produce authentic paella, but the excess of garlic, and the drowning of olive oil over everything was difficult for Edmund. He certainly did his best, but it was hard to convince his hosts that he was new to that sort of food. It was obvious that she didn’t understand, and that made Edmund very sad considering all the effort she had made for them.

  On the Sunday, Edmund was up early in the hotel and rang Theo’s room, but there was no answer, so he trotted along and knocked on his door. A bleary eyed Theo apologised as he wasn’t feeling well, and tell Edmund to explore without him. Olaf had told Edmund about the Ramblas, and not to miss it, so that was his target for the day.

  ‘Walk down the Diagonal until you reach a large island, right opposite is the beginning of the Ramblas.’ He had told him.

  Quite simply it is a dual carriageway with a difference. In the middle of the carriageway there is a very large tree-lined paved walkway where every Sunday many of the local people promenade along its length to the seashore. Along the whole of it, street vendors were selling such things as brightly coloured caged finches. Music and entertainers abounded. Everyone was dressed in their finery, the sun was shining, and even the most cynical would have been forced into a smile.

  Cafes, shops and bars were on both sides of each carriageway, tempting Edmund into them. About halfway down, he looked left, and through a narrow lane off the carriageway he saw flashes of colour. He decided to investigate, crossed the carriageway, jumping out of the way of the usual suicidal drivers, and walked down the dark passageway heading for the light. It opened in a blaze of sunshine, and Edmund had to adjust his eyes for a moment.

  A Gothic church courtyard opened up to him, and sitting around all four walls, many painters were setting up their canvases and easels, chatting away to each other. Placed around each painter were collections of their finished work, all hoping for a sale. Some of their work was truly excellent, except of course, the price.

  Edmund noticed another alleyway in the far corner of the flagstone square, there was someone coming out of it, laden with something, so he decided to investigate. He came upon another square, just as nice but this time skirted with trestle tables laden with all sorts of things for sale.

  ‘A Barcelona Flea Market,’ he said to himself. Everyone was wandering around the centre, darting this way and that. It seemed to him that they were all local people.

  On the first table there was a mountain of Roman coins all looking for a buyer. The next table he went to was already attended by at least six other people, all talking loudly in Spanish. He gently prised his way between two of them, just to see what was so interesting to them. He was amazed to see thousands of little brightly coloured tubes in carefully documented rows. He plucked up the courage to ask the man the other side of the table what they were. The man said, ‘Zigar? Comprendez?’ He was gesturing to Edmund that they were the little bands that wrapped around each cigar denoting the manufacturer. Apparently there was a huge demand for them in Spain and America, and collectors were always looking for the rare ones.

  He was nearing the end of his walk around the tables, back to the place where he had begun. The last table was displaying paper money from all over the world. This of course interested Edmund, and his eye was caught by an old Reichmark note dated 1923 denoting a value of fifty million marks, which he bought for twenty five pesetas. Edmund knew from history that the note was printed during Germany’s period of hyperinflation, and this huge value note could not buy a loaf of bread at that time.

  In the week following, the negotiations for the licensed product were succeeding. The agreement they made was for the UK Company to sell the drug under the Spanish licence with a significant royalty for five years, with an option to buy out in three.

  On Friday evening Edmund was preparing for dinner at the Hotel when his phone rang.

  ‘Olaf here Edmund, will you and Theo be my guests tonight at the local Flamenco bar? I’ll pick you up at eleven.’ He sounded excited.

  ‘Did you say eleven?’ Asked Edmund

  ‘Why yes Edmund, it does not open until then, is that OK?’

  ‘Yes of course, see you then.’ Edmund wasn’t used to going out at eleven, but that apparently was the norm for Barcelona.

  They were waiting for Olaf outside their hotel, expecting the Alpha to draw up, but no, he arrived on foot.

  ‘It’s not far from here, so I thought that we would walk.’

  They followed him around the back of the hotel, down a busy street, quickly turned left down another smaller street and then finally up a narrow alleyway, where halfway down, a flickering orange sign was their goal. Edmund was a little apprehensive, but Theo looked quite relaxed, so he followed them gingerly into the place.

  Opposite them was a sort of reception, with a couple of children who were colouring a book on the floor. Beyond the desk Edmund could make out some tables, with a few people looking like they were eating. A woman in a sombre black shapeless dress stood up out of her chair, smiled and indicated a door on the right of her. Olaf opened the door that revealed a set of steep steps with no carpet.

  ‘Is this the bordello that people warned me about?’ Edmund thought to himself, he was starting to get somewhat apprehensive about it all.

  At the top of the narrow stairs, a very large man, who nodded at Olaf and let them walk past, opened another door. Inside, the room was very dark, and after Edmund’s eyes had adjusted to it, he could make out a very large room with many tables, all occupied and lit by just one feeble light from a candle. Every table was full. On the right hand wall there was a brightly lit wooden dance floor raised up like a dais. Suddenly they were being guided though all the candlelit tables on the way to their own. The table turned out to be next to the dance floor, right on the corner of it.

  Just as they sat down, the whole room exploded with cheering and shouting! Edmund looked behind him, and threading through the tables were five dark figures heading for the light and Edmund’s table. They stepped onto the floor. First a young man carrying a guitar, followed by an older woman, and then three younger women. They were all dressed in the most striking clothes of the true Flamenco style. The whole place was still applauding and shouting in Spanish. Olaf leaned over to Edmund and shouted, ‘you are in for the treat of your life!’

  The troupe consisted of the brother, who positioned himself on a small stool in the far corner, and standing alongside him, his mother. In the centre of the stage were the three sisters, tall, proud and statuesque, arms in the air and maracas inside their palms. Suddenly the mother shouted, the guitar struck up, and it began. The young women cracked their heels on the wooden floor, and danced to the beat, ever faster and fierier. At the side of their table, against the wall a cameraman was training his huge video camera on the whole thing.

  During the first dance the waiter brought them food and wine, but Edmund did not notice. He felt no hunger, no thirst; he just dra
nk in the amazing sight unfolding in front of him. Theo and Olaf were chatting to each other, but Edmund’s eyes could not be averted, he was totally hypnotised by it all. After about an hour, the girls took a rest, and it was time for mother and son to perform a gypsy song. They gave an eerie plaintive cry, which moved Edmund, although he couldn’t help taking a glance at the three beautiful girls in the shadow at the back.

  The sound from the audience behind them continued, then at the end of the songs, the mother and son returned to the corner, and the sisters strutted forward again.

  Theo leaned towards Edmund and said, ‘it’s your turn next.’ Edmund couldn’t hear him over the crowd. One of the girls came over to his table; she leaned over to Edmund and put her hand out. The table was bathed in a spotlight, as he was looking into her dark eyes.