You couldn’t do much with George’s name.
“But that’s really great!” Bruce said. “Engaged. And . . .”
“And we’re going to get married in March,” George went on. “In Crieff.”
“In Crieff !” said Bruce. “That’s great. You’ll be able to have all the old crowd there.”
“With a reception at the Hydro,” said George.
“A good choice,” said Bruce, and thought: I suppose I’ll have to go. He is my business partner, after all, and I’ll be expected to be there.
He turned to Sharon. “Where are you living these days, Sharon?”
Sharon, who had been looking at George, now turned to Bruce. She looked him up and down in a way which he thought was a bit forward on her part. Who was she to look at him in that way, as if passing silent comment on his appearance?
“Crieff,” she said. “I’ve been working in Perth, but I’ve been staying with my folks. They’re getting on a bit these days.”
There was something in her tone which discomforted Bruce.
It was as if she was challenging him in some way – challenging him to say that there was something wrong with continuing to live in Crieff.
“And what do you do in Perth?” he asked. “I’m a bit out of touch. You went off to uni in Dundee, didn’t you?”
Sharon nodded, fixing Bruce with a stare which suggested that again she was challenging him to say something disparaging about Dundee.
“I did law,” she said. “Now I’m a lawyer. I’m working for one of the Perth firms. I do a lot of court work.”
“Sharon goes to court virtually every day,” George said proudly. “The sheriff said the other day that she had argued a case very well. He said that in court.”
“He’s a very nice man,” said Sharon. “He always listens very carefully to what you have to say.”
255
“Great,” said Bruce. He looked at George. “Now, I must show you the ropes round here. I’ve spent the day putting in stock.
See. It took me hours. And see that section over there, Sharon, Wine for Her. See it?”
Sharon glanced at the four shelves pointed out by Bruce.
Then she turned round and glared at him. “Why have you put Wine for Her?” she asked. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means that these are wines that women are more likely to enjoy,” said Bruce.
Sharon glanced quickly at George, who shifted slightly on his feet. Then she turned back to face Bruce. “And why do you think women would want different wines from men? Have they got different taste buds?”
Bruce met her stare. He was not going to have this haggis talking to him like that. And he knew what sort of wine she would like: Blue Nun! Perhaps he would give her a bottle of it as an engagement present.
“Yes,” he said. “Women like sweeter wine. And they like wine bottles with more feminine labels. Everybody knows that.” He paused. This was a waste of time talking to Sharon.
He needed to talk to George about business. “Anyway, George, 256
we have to talk about this place. I’ve spent a bit of money on the stock, so that if we could talk about that side of things for a mo . . .”
Sharon said: “George has changed his mind, Bruce. Sorry.
Now that we’re getting married. We’re going to buy a house in Stirling. We’ll need the money for that. Sorry, Bruce.”
Bruce said nothing for a moment. At the door, the faintest stirring of air, a slight shift of light, was all there was to indicate a triumphant Nemesis returning in satisfaction to the street outside.
“You gave me your word,” said Bruce, chiselling out the sentence. “You gave me your word, George. You told me that you would come in on this business with me. It was in the Cumberland Bar.”
The words the Cumberland Bar were uttered with all the solemnity with which one might invoke the name of a place in which commercial promises are scrupulously observed – the words
“Actually, Bruce,” said George, “actually, I didn’t promise. I said that I was interested, but we didn’t make any firm arrangements, did we? We agreed that we would draw up a partnership agreement, but you never showed that to me and I never signed it. We were talking about the prospect of going into business, not the actual mechanics. We didn’t do a proper deal, you know.”
“There’s no proper deal,” chipped in Sharon. “No contract.
No deal.”
