No Place in the Sun (24 page)

Hiring Andrew proved to be an inspiration. The organised chaos of the exhibition room was suddenly transformed into a well-oiled machine. Nobody got past Andrew’s charming approach; every visitor was recorded and assessed and their details were inputted into the laptop by the receptionist from the translations company. By the time they got to a salesman their information was on screen, along with any extra snippets that Andrew had gleaned from his short conversation with them.

‘Oh it’s great to be back among friends.’ Andrew raised his gin and tonic and Tom and Walter lifted their pints in salute. The Willows was quiet, it was still early on Sunday evening and they had all had a tough weekend.

‘Pity we’re not all on the same team.’ Walter was feeling the heat, managing shows on his own, but he looked happy enough.

‘How did you do this week?’ Tom wasn’t prying, just curious to know how his old firm was doing.

‘Fifty seven closed, probably another ten will close on Monday or Tuesday.’ Walter had been busy. ‘How about you?’

‘Just short of the hundred, but Andy will move another ten on the phone during the week if the last few weeks are anything to go by.’

‘That’s me, Andrew the mover. And shaker of course.’ Andrew was happy, earning decent money again after his sojourn in the clothing business.

Walter was in one of his philosophical moods. ‘Isn’t it an amazing phenomenon when you think about it? I mean, if you tried to sell a house here without letting buyers see it, you’d be laughed out of the shop, but the punters for the Spanish stuff have no interest in looking at the location, although I suppose there’s nothing to see yet anyway. Still, you’d think that they’d want to view the site or something, but very few are bothered.’

‘Same with us, out of seven hundred sales on Montana Fea, only three went out to see it.’

‘How do you deal with that, do you go with them?’

Tom shook his head. ‘Not worth the effort, would cost too much of my time, I’d rather lose the sales. No, Juan looks after them on that side, part of the deal, and we only lost one out of the three, went to another agent when they were out there.’

‘That happens, hard to keep them herded, you need to sit on them twenty four seven or they stray. Still, one dropped sale is nothing with the numbers you’re doing.’

Tom agreed. ‘If you start that inspections trip racket, you need to do big groups and keep them away from any temptation to go elsewhere. I heard that up in Mojacar the agents are so pushy that if you go up to the bar to buy a drink, another agent will be sitting at the table with your client when you come back.’

Andrew laughed. ‘The cheek of them, maybe we should brand the customers with a hot iron, make them keep their sticky fingers off them.’

‘We’ll leave that kind of thing to you Andy.’

‘Now now, Tom, I don’t do the pain thing.’

Tom called for three more drinks. ‘Seriously though, what next? I mean, there must be a finite number of customers for a property in Spain, so how do we move this on to the next level?’

‘We could always move into the furnishing business, fit out the houses for them when they’re finished.’

‘That’s an idea, Andy, but everything we sold so far has a completion date at least two and a half years down the road, so what do we do in the meantime if this river dries up?’

Walter took a long draught from his pint. ‘Anyway, the margin on the furniture wouldn’t give us the kind of returns we are getting from the property sales. I mean seriously, lads; we’re getting money for old rope here.’

‘Speak for yourself, Walter, I’m just barely getting by.’

‘Yes ,Tom, we’ll have a collection for your rent next week. Anyway, Harry and myself have opened another furrow, or we’re about to.’

Tom was suddenly interested. ‘Have you moved in to the French market then?’

‘No, that’s too specialised, we’re looking at opportunities further east.’

Andrew was curious too. ‘Where, in China?’

‘No, not that far away, we have signed up a deal in Hungary, in Budapest.’

‘Oh lovely.’ Andrew was excited. ‘I’d love to go to Budapest. It’s supposed to be a lovely city; they have those great thermal baths and all that kind of thing.’

Tom was interested. ‘What’s the score in Budapest? I was looking at those cities, you know, Budapest and Prague, didn’t know where to start. Budapest looks promising right enough, good quality location, nice city.’

‘This is between us of course.’ Walter didn’t want to give away too much. ‘We got two projects from an Israeli developer in the city centre, on the border between Districts six and seven, best part of town and at a good price. He was in a bit of financial difficulty so he let us in as the sole agent. We promised to clear at least fifty percent of the projects or we suffer penalties, but if we go over the target we make a killing.’

Tom was surprised at how far ahead Harry and Walter had moved in such a short space of time. ‘You guys are really going international, fair play to you.’

‘We’re just trying to stay ahead of the game, Tom, trying to avoid a slump if Spain peters out.’

‘Anything over there that might suit us? If two companies go in there it might start a stampede. If you are trying it on your own you might have an uphill battle, but if Scorpio goes in as well it could create a stir. What do you think?’

‘You’re probably right, Tom, there might be strength in numbers, but I don’t want you trampling all over our patch. We have big projects to sell in a good area; there mightn’t be room for competition. I’m thinking of our penalty clause.’

‘How about a secondary area? I don’t particularly want to go head to head with yourself and Harry either. We’ve managed to avoid getting in each other’s way in Spain so far; I’d like to keep it that way.’

Walter pondered Tom’s suggestion. It might be a good idea to have two players in Budapest; the papers would be carrying twice as much advertising and it would put the city on the map with Irish buyers. ‘You have a good point, Tom, we need a lot of publicity to make this work, most buyers don’t even know where Budapest is, there’ll need to be a big information campaign to kickstart it.’

‘So, have you a contact for me over there?’

‘You could try Amir Mamzer, but count your fingers after you shake hands with him.’

‘Is he that bad?’

‘I wouldn’t like to do business with him, but he seems to know his stuff; it’s just that he’s a bit shifty. You could handle him all right though.’

‘So why didn’t you do business with him yourselves?’

‘He works in areas where sites are cheap, and he sells cheap apartments to Israeli investors who buy in the expectation that these areas will come up in value at some stage. Only thing is, I think that he works in places that will be slow to improve, so maybe even Scorpio wouldn’t like to market his stuff.’

Andrew had been listening with interest. ‘We sell in Montana Fea don’t we? I’m sure that this chap can’t be any worse.’

The plane lost height slowly and the details of the countryside below came gradually into focus. The Danube looped around and almost back on itself as it wended its way through flat land ruled by straight lines into a patchwork of huge fields. A small partly-wooded hill loomed ahead and the plane banked around it; the city opened up beyond the hill, clustered around a large island in the huge river that was spanned by several long bridges. The part of the city close to the Danube seemed old and sedate; Tom could make out a large castle on high ground overlooking the river. Further out, neighbourhoods appeared to alternate between red-roofed suburban housing and large tower blocks of apartments. He could see what looked like the Grand Prix circuit, and a football stadium, and then the plane banked steeply and turned and descended towards the airport.

It was pleasantly warm and sunny, and the bus brought the passengers quickly to the terminal building. He had expected more formalities, but the policeman barely glanced at his passport before stamping it with a red stamp and waving him on. The sliding door opened and he walked through. Look out for the airport minibus desk, Walter had told him, and there it was; you couldn’t miss it.

‘Which hotel?’ The woman was curt but not unfriendly.

‘The Central.’

‘Single or return?’

‘Return please.’

‘Wait over there, the driver will call you.’ She indicated a row of seats close by the desk.

Tom was impressed, it seemed like a good system, and not too expensive as far as he could judge. Hard to figure out this money, a thousand forint was about four euro, more or less, so the return ticket was about ten euro, or was it twelve? Walter had warned him about the taxis, how they were known to fleece foreigners; the airport minibus was safe and reliable.

He didn’t have to wait very long; the driver collected some papers from the desk and called out the names of several hotels, including the Central. A few other passengers trooped out behind the driver and boarded the bus; Tom sat in the back seat and called Amir Mamzer.

‘Good evening, Mr. Mamzer, Tom Murphy here, just confirming our meeting tomorrow morning. Where do you want to meet?’

‘Welcome to Hungary, Mr. Murphy.’ He pronounced is as ‘Ungaria’ in a heavy Israeli accent. ‘Where are you staying, which hotel?’

‘The Central, do you know it?’

‘Of course, very good hotel. I can meet you near there, in Gerbeaud’s coffee house, nine o’clock in the morning, ok?’

‘Sounds good, how do I get there?’

‘Is no problem from your hotel, just come out front door and turn towards the river, walk five minutes to Vorosmarty Ter, very near.’

The hotel was comfortable, and he was tempted to lie back and watch TV, but he dragged himself out and went to find some food. He followed the Israeli’s directions to Gerbeaud’s coffee house; it was only a few minutes away, facing on to a pleasant square that was surrounded by old buildings for the most part and which was only spoiled by one modern office building that seemed entirely out of touch with its neighbours.

Looks like the planners here are no better than anywhere, he mused. Maybe this city is an easy place to do business.

Gerbeaud’s didn’t have much in the way of food, it was mostly a coffee house that sold a mouth-watering selection of cakes and desserts, but the friendly waitress in her traditional garb of long skirt and puff-sleeved blouse brought him a pot of tea and a perfectly presented sandwich on a small silver tray. He ate slowly, taking in his surroundings. The coffee shop dated from the eighteen hundreds; it hadn’t suffered much from modernisation in the meantime, resulting in a pleasing place to while away some time and watch the world go by. Dark mahogany cabinets with brass edging and crystal chandeliers gave the place an authentic period feel.

There was nothing period about the bill though. Even allowing for some continuing confusion with the currency values, Tom reckoned that this coffee house was as expensive as anything he had seen anywhere. Still, the square was obviously a tourist area, and you would expect to find tourist prices in such a place.

He finished his tea and walked outside; the café was closing and the waitresses were hovering around, anxious for him to be out of their way. He walked across the square and down towards the river; it was a balmy night and a lot of people were out strolling and taking in the ambience of this pleasant city. He stood for a while along the promenade above the riverbank, leaning on the heavy cast-iron railing and looking across the river at the floodlit castle on the hill on the far bank, and at the huge suspension bridge that was lit up by thousands of bulbs along its span and cables. An old yellow tram rumbled past close beside him on the track by the riverbank, its iron wheels squealing as it negotiated the bends close to the big bridge.

It was time to head back; Tom turned and retraced his steps, crossing Vorosmarty Square and passing the darkened façade of the coffee shop. The numbers of strollers had diminished and his footsteps echoed as he entered the narrow street leading up towards his hotel.

‘Do you speak English? Can you help us please?’

The two girls looked like tourists, poring over a street map by the light from a shop window.

‘I’m afraid I can’t be of much help, I’m a stranger here myself, but I do at least know where we are.’

Tom took the map from the dark haired girl and refolded it to show the area around Vorosmarty Square.

‘We’re here, just beside the square and on the street leading to Deak Ter.’

‘Then can you help us to find this pub?’

The blonde girl unfolded a piece of paper with the name of a bar and a street address written on it in block letters.

Tom looked at the address, and then back to the map. He spotted the street name in an instant; it was very near to where they were standing. ‘That’s it, just there.’

The girls seemed puzzled. ‘So it is that direction.’ The brunette pointed towards the river; Tom shook his head.

‘No, the other way, over there, just two streets away.’

‘Can you show us? The blonde had a lost look about her, seemed anxious to find the bar.

‘Are you meeting friends there?’

Tom thought she was attractive; maybe a drink in this company might be a nice way to spend an hour. She pointed to her dark haired friend.

‘She is meeting her boyfriend there, we said we would be there half an hour ago but we could not find the place.’

‘Let me show you the way.’ Tom took the map and headed off in the direction of the street. The blonde girl walked alongside him, her friend following behind.

‘So, where are you from?’ Tom wondered at her accent.

‘I am from Hungary, but not from Budapest. We are from a small town in the East of the country. I think maybe you never heard of it.’

‘You have very good English.’

‘Yes, is not too bad I think; we studied English in school.’

They turned into the street that Tom had spotted on the map; it was narrow and not as brightly lit as the main street, and the lights from a small bar glowed brightly about half way along it. A thick-set man stood at the doorway, arms folded, but on seeing Tom and the girls approach he spoke into a small radio that crackled back at him. Tom immediately slowed, he didn’t like the look of this; it smelled of a setup.