“Thank you,” said the young man. “But I don’t drink.”
“You could start,” said Bruce cheerfully. “Cut your teeth on something fairly light – a German white maybe. The sort of thing women go for.”
The young man pursed his lips. “No, thank you,” he said.
“You sure?” asked Bruce. “It’ll loosen you up a bit. You know what I mean?”
“Have you everything you need?” asked the young man. “If you do, I’ll be getting back to the office.”
He left, and Bruce shook his head. What a wimp! But even with such unpromising material he thought that he had made a fairly good impression with his sales pitch and he looked forward to being able to try his salesman skills on other customers.
He looked about the shop. All he had to do now was to give the place a bit of a dusting, order the stock, and arrange for the various bits and pieces to be installed. Then he would be in business! He looked at his watch. He could work until just before noon, when he was due to meet the wholesaler whom he had contacted. They were to meet in the Bailie, and they could go over the list there. The wholesaler, who was somebody Bruce
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had met once or twice at the rugby club, had promised to give him substantial discounts.
“I cut my margins to the bone when I deal with chaps from the club,” he had said. “You’ll get the stuff virtually at cost.”
Then he had lowered his voice.
“And I’ve got some cases of Petrus, would you believe? Don’t spread it around, whatever you do, because everyone will want some and I can’t satisfy everybody. But I can get you a few cases at an unbelievably good price. Honestly, you’ll pass out when you hear the discount.”
Bruce had immediately gone to find out what Petrus was.
Then he had looked at the price. For a moment he thought he had misread the figures. But then he realised he had not: those noughts were meant to be there.
Shortly before twelve, Bruce shut up the shop and made his way to the Bailie Bar at the end of the road. He was pleased with what 224
he had achieved in the two hours or so that he had been working.
He had dusted down all the shelves, swept the floor, and washed the front display window. That afternoon he would take delivery of furniture, including supplies of stationery and a filing cabinet.
Then all he would need before he started selling would be the stock, which he was now about to arrange with Harry, his acquaintance from the rugby club and wholesaler of fine wines.
“Walked past your place,” said Harry as he came and joined Bruce at the circular bar. “Nice position. You’re going to clean up there, Bruce. No doubt about it.”
“You think so?” asked Bruce. He was pleased to receive this verdict from somebody in the trade. Of course he never really doubted it, but it was good to have it confirmed.
“Yes, but you’ve got to have the right stock,” said Harry. “You know what they say about retail? Position, position, position.
Yes, that’s right, but you could also say: stock, stock, stock.”
Bruce listened carefully. “Could you?” he asked.
Harry reached out and punched him playfully on the arm.
“That’s where I come in, Bruce, my friend! I’ll fix you up with deals that you just won’t believe. I’m telling you.” He paused.
“But let me buy you a drink? What will you have?”
Bruce smiled. “A glass of Chateau Petrus 1982,” said Bruce.
“Ha, ha,” said Harry. “Very funny. But you obviously know what you’re talking about. That 1982 vintage was amazing.
Really amazing.”
They were served their drinks and went to sit down at one of the tables. Harry had with him an attache case, out of which he took a red folder. “Here’s the list,” he said. “It’s arranged geographically. Shall we start with France?”
“I’m more of a New World man,” said Bruce. “California.
Oz. New Zealand.”
“Very discerning of you,” said Harry. “And I couldn’t agree more.
But you mustn’t forget the Old World, you know. People still like French wine, and you’ll have to sell it. That’s where I come in. I can get you the stuff that sells. I know what people want.”
Bruce liked Harry. He liked his directness and his confidence.
He was the sort of man who let you know exactly where you
