Fatal Error (39 page)

The problem was, I didn’t have the time.

Guy’s optimism had returned with a vengeance. Ninetyminutes had ten million pounds to spend and he had lots of ideas on how to spend it. Offices in Milan and Barcelona to complement those in Paris and Munich. A site dedicated to Euro 2000, which was taking place in June. More recruits: we now had forty employees and the number was climbing week by week. Organizing this stretched all of us.

And we didn’t actually have the cash yet. Following his phone call Henry had sent us a letter promising us ten million pounds subject to terms to be agreed. As far as I was concerned, those terms had to be agreed as soon as possible. And that meant talking to Clare Douglas.

Clare was diligent, fearsomely diligent. She wanted numbers on everything: website visitors, on-line sales, costs, budgets, cash flows, advertising revenues, headcount. She wanted these numbers going back into the past and forward into the future. And she asked questions, lots of questions. Although I respected her, all this caused me a lot of extra work when I had other things to focus on. I wanted to sign the damned shareholders’ agreement and get on with it.

Guy, Mel and I met Clare at eight o’clock one morning in the boardroom in Ninetyminutes’ offices to discuss the agreement. It should have been very straightforward, since
the draft in front of us was based heavily on Orchestra’s original investment document. The only difficult point would be, as always, the price. How much of the company would Orchestra get for their ten million pounds?

Clare was a small figure, stuck alone on one side of the table facing the three of us. She was a couple of years younger than us, but there was something in her grey eyes that said, don’t try to push me around. I noticed how she was fidgeting with a pencil and she seemed more nervous than usual. It wasn’t altogether surprising: we were prepared for a tough negotiation session.

What we weren’t prepared for was what Clare actually said.

‘I’m worried about this investment, Guy.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘I mean I’m not sure Ninetyminutes is going to make it.’

The three of us stared at her.

‘I don’t understand,’ I said, although I understood perfectly well. ‘This money should see us safely through until we do an IPO later in the summer.’

‘But what if the stock market gets worse rather than better?’

‘In that case, it’s possible we might not get the funds at the price we originally wanted.’

‘You might not get the funds at all.’

‘We’ve been through all this with Henry,’ Guy interrupted. ‘The decision’s been taken. He’s written us a letter promising us the funds. Orchestra can’t go back on that, can they, Mel?’

‘Definitely not,’ said Mel.

‘You’ve just decided this?’ said Guy, glaring at Clare with contempt.

‘Yes,’ Clare said, glaring back.

‘And what does Henry say?’

‘Henry’s still on holiday.’

‘You mean you haven’t even talked to him?’

‘No. But I’m responsible for this investment now within Orchestra. And I’ve made my decision.’

‘And what will your senior partners say about you welching on a deal?’

‘They’ll stand by me.’

‘When this gets out, which it will, it’ll ruin Orchestra’s reputation.’

‘So will investing ten million pounds only to lose it three months later.’

Clare’s answers were clear and strong. I admired her: she was doing a good job in difficult circumstances.

Mel coughed. ‘Clare, I’d like to draw your attention to this letter that Henry sent us. It clearly states that Orchestra Ventures will provide the funds.’

‘On terms to be agreed,’ Clare responded.

‘Which is what we should be discussing now.’

‘Very well. We will make the ten-million-pound investment mentioned in the letter in return for ninety-five per cent of the company and voting control on the board.’

‘That’s absurd!’ said Guy. ‘That values the company at next to nothing.’

‘It’s next to bankrupt,’ said Clare.

‘With voting control, you could just put the company into liquidation and get your funds out,’ I said.

Clare gave me the briefest of smiles. She had thought of that. ‘The truth is, as I said at the beginning, if we don’t want to invest, we don’t have to. Now, I think I must be going. I’d like to talk about how we take the company forward from here. You still have two hundred thousand pounds in your account. But that’s a discussion for another time, don’t you think?’

She gathered her papers together and left the room.

‘Jesus Christ!’ Guy snarled as she closed the door behind her. ‘She can’t do that, can she, Mel?’

‘I don’t know. We can try and stop her, but it will be difficult. Henry’s letter is subject to contract.’

‘First Bloomfield Weiss and then Orchestra Ventures! These City guys offer you money and never come through with the goods. I’ll tell the press about this. Davo, I want you to get right on to Henry and get him to sort this out.’

I shook my head. ‘Sorry, Guy.’

‘What do you mean? Call him!’

I glanced at Mel, but decided to talk anyway. ‘You know as well as I do why Henry changed his mind. Owen threatened his family.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Owen mutilated Henry’s daughter’s cat and then shunted his wife and children into the middle of a busy road.’

‘What is this crap?’ Guy said.

Mel looked at me as though I was mad.

‘I’m not about to put more pressure on him,’ I said.

‘All right, give me his number. I’ll call him.’

‘No,’ I said. ‘And let me tell you something else. If any more threats are made to Henry, or Clare, I’ll tell the press and the police everything I know. And be sure to pass that message on to your brother.’

With that, I left the room and returned to my desk. I picked up a pen and paper and started to figure out how Ninetyminutes could possibly survive without the Orchestra money.

Ten minutes later, Guy returned to his desk. We sat there in silence for a few minutes, opposite each other but avoiding each other’s eyes. Then Guy spoke.

‘Davo?’

‘Yes.’

‘I promise you I know nothing about Henry’s family being threatened.’

I didn’t answer, but turned back to my work.

‘And I swear that neither I nor Owen will put any pressure on Clare or Henry or anyone else at Orchestra.’

I glanced up. Guy’s eyes held mine. He looked sincere. Of course.

‘But, I am going to do everything legal I can to keep Ninetyminutes alive, and so should you. Agreed?’

‘I’m not going to persuade Orchestra to do anything, Guy.’

Guy breathed in deeply. ‘OK, I’ll do that. But are you with me?’

Was I with him? His brother had done terrible things to keep Ninetyminutes alive. But then Guy had just renounced them. And there was the small matter of my life savings as well as my father’s. I didn’t want to let Ninetyminutes go either.

‘I’m with you.’

‘Good. Now let me get those bastards at Orchestra.’

I heard Guy harangue the bastards at Orchestra for the next hour. But it was clear from Guy’s half of the conversation that they weren’t going to budge. They were one hundred per cent behind Clare. Although her actions had placed Ninetyminutes in probably the most difficult situation we had ever experienced, I couldn’t help admiring her. She was a brave woman.

I suspected she didn’t realize how brave.

That afternoon I went round to Bloomfield Weiss’s offices in Broadgate to discuss the possibility of doing an IPO for a reduced amount of funding at a lower price. The banker was not optimistic. NASDAQ was still sliding. All the hot internet stocks were way below their IPO prices and slipping lower by the day. Wait till the summer, he said. We were in
May. I wondered when his summer would start. Not any time soon, I thought.

Back at the office, I described my meeting to Guy. He listened impatiently.

‘So what are you going to do about it?’ he asked when I had finished.

I took a deep breath. ‘I think we should do two things. Firstly, we should talk to Champion Starsat again. Ask them whether they still want to buy us.’ Guy scowled. I ploughed on. ‘Secondly, we should cut way back on expenses to make the cash we have left last longer. If we cut back far enough, we might be able to last through till October. We might even break even.’

‘Great idea, Davo. And what price do you think Champion Starsat will pay? I’ll tell you something, it won’t be a hundred and fifty million quid. If we didn’t want to sell out at the top of the market, why should we sell now? And as for cutting back, I keep telling you, we need more investment, not less. Can’t you see that?’

‘We don’t have any choice. If we carry on as we are we’ll be closing our doors in three weeks.’

‘Look, I want solutions, not problems. Finance is your responsibility, Davo, so be responsible for it. We are the fastest growing soccer site in Europe; ninetyminutes.com is a brand people know. We’re getting there. We’re winning. And you’re trying to tell me that we’ve lost. I don’t get you, Davo. We used to work together as a team. But now I think you’re just trying to look for problems.’

‘I don’t have to look for them,’ I said. I was angry now. ‘They’re there, staring me in the face every day from our bank statement. I can’t make them go away.’

‘You could bloody well try,’ said Guy.

‘Oh, yes? How?’

‘Fire Bloomfield Weiss. Get an adviser with guts. You
must still have some mates at Leipziger Gurney Kroheim. And what about all those other people who were falling over themselves to get our business in March?’

‘It’ll look bad in the market if we fire Bloomfield Weiss.’

‘I don’t care what it looks like. All I want is a broker who can get us the cash.’

‘It’ll be hard to find one.’

‘How the hell do you know until you’ve tried?’

I didn’t answer. He sounded right. But I knew he was wrong.

‘And I haven’t finished with Orchestra Ventures yet. They broke their word and they know it. If I can’t get them to change their mind, Mel will.’

I shook my head. ‘Don’t count on it.’

Smiths was crowded. It was Friday, still a big night, even in the current climate. Pink-slip parties were beginning to take over from website launches, but the dot-commers still had money to burn. It was Guy’s birthday, his thirty-second, and the drink was flowing.

The funding worries had led to a build-up of tension throughout the whole company and it was as if everyone wanted to take this opportunity to forget present worries and remember past camaraderie. I was drinking fast; Guy was drinking faster. The chatter was frantic, the laughter loud. Time flew.

At about ten o’clock I found myself slumped on a sofa, an empty space next to me. Mel plumped herself into it.

‘Hello,’ I said.

‘Hi.’

‘How are you?’

‘Yeah, all right,’ she said.

‘How’s it going with Guy?’ I asked, without thinking. Although I had spent a lot of time working with Mel over
the previous three months, I hadn’t spoken about her and him since I had caught them together.

She raised her eyebrows, surprised I had brought up the subject. Then she answered me. ‘It’s so frustrating. Sometimes he’s there. Sometimes he’s not. I just never know.’

‘Some things don’t change.’

Mel sighed. ‘No. I just wish they would.’

I suddenly found myself with lots of questions that I had wanted answered for a long time. This seemed the right time to ask them.

‘When I came round to Guy’s flat that night, why did you show yourself? I mean, you could have stayed tucked up in bed. I’d never have known.’

‘I could,’ said Mel. ‘In fact, that’s what Guy wanted me to do. But I get sick of being his secret squeeze. If I’m good enough for him to shag, then I should be good enough to talk to his friends.’

I was taken aback by the bitterness in her voice. ‘Of course you’re good enough,’ I said.

‘Well, can’t you tell him that?’

‘He wouldn’t listen,’ I said. ‘He listens to me less now.’

‘He’s feeling the pressure.’

‘When did you two get together again?’ I asked.

‘Oh, it’s been going on for a while, on and off. It started last year just after he’d had that massive row with his father about turning Ninetyminutes into a porn site. He usually comes to me when he’s feeling down. It’s all secret, of course,’ she said bitterly. ‘No one should ever know.’

‘Why do you put up with it?’

Mel turned to me. There were tears in her eyes. ‘I can’t help it. I just can’t help it. I know I should have him on my terms or not at all. But the truth is, I need him. When he’s not with me I’m so miserable I’ll put up with anything to get him back. Anything. And he knows that. Sometimes I think
he’s a total bastard, but then he smiles, or he touches me and, well, there’s nothing I can do.’

I got Mel another drink. And one for myself.

‘Thanks,’ she said, taking hers. ‘It doesn’t look good, does it?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Ninetyminutes.’

‘It never looks good.’

‘I can’t believe that stupid Scottish cow wouldn’t give you the money.’

I sighed. ‘She’s probably right.’

‘Do you think Ninetyminutes will make it?’

‘I don’t know. I can’t quite see how. We’ll have to cut right back, and Guy will hate that.’

Mel squinted at me. ‘That stuff you said about Owen threatening Henry Broughton-Jones. Was that true?’

‘Yes,’ I said. ‘All true.’

‘Did Guy know?’

‘I have no idea. But I was serious about going to the police if he or Owen threatens Clare.’

‘Bitch,’ muttered Mel.

We sat in drunken misery together on the sofa, the hubbub of the party all around us. Guy was a few feet away, talking to Ingrid. He put his arm around her waist.

I felt Mel stiffen next to me. ‘There’s another bitch,’ she muttered under her breath. ‘What does he see in her compared to me?’

It was true that Mel was more conventionally better-looking than Ingrid; she was taller and she had a better figure. But Ingrid had something about her, something that Guy could see, and so could I. I decided not to explain this to Mel.

She glanced at me, scowled because I hadn’t given her the response she was looking for, and then climbed unsteadily to her feet. I should have stopped her, but actually I wasn’t
too happy seeing Guy put his arm around Ingrid either.