The High Life (The Mercury Travel Club #3)

Chapter Seven Island in the Sun

Charlie sent off for the island prospectus immediately after the party and since then we’ve been focusing on business as usual while waiting for it to arrive or for something to happen over the road. For a week now there’s been no further sign of Lorenzo and the vouchers have finally stopped making their way to us. I wish I could say that meant we’d stopped thinking about him but every now and then one of us will be caught gazing over at the boarded-up shop, watching the comings and goings. This is exactly what I’m doing now.

I remember an article I once read that said if you chant affirmations every morning, the universe hears and gives you what you want. I’ve been doing this with Richard’s advice, ‘Focus, Respect and the Next Big Thing’, but today I find myself asking the universe to supply endless bacon sandwiches to the builders working over the road. This is because I’ve noticed that when someone does the sarnie run, they down tools and get nothing done. It seems a very passive way of me delaying the opening and lies more comfortably than my other idea of asking the universe to curse the new shop. I so nearly asked — OK I did ask — but have felt guilty ever since. It kind of jars with Richard’s ‘Respect’ instruction.

When we first started Mercury, I went to a small business event at the Town Hall. Mingling with the other business owners, I was at first terrified, but the chair of the local business chamber encouraged us to help each other. As soon as I offered a small amount of help I felt better and found that the other business owners were more than happy to offer something. Since then we’ve had lots of help from other small businesses — things like printing our leaflets at a slight discount or using us to book their corporate travel — and it feels good being part of this community.

I do wonder why Lorenzo isn’t here overseeing all the work. I’m sure that if I were refitting my new business, I’d be on site every day.

Perhaps, despite his bluster, he could be quite new to all this ― after all, he did send out vouchers before his shop was even open. I’m torn between not wanting him to succeed but also not wanting to see a fellow small enterprise fail. Perhaps we should extend the hand of business friendship and maybe support him in some way when he opens up. I know Charlie will think I’m absolutely insane but it doesn’t have to be a big gesture — just something that shows we’re confident and approachable, that we are the elder statesmen in this town and if he settles in behind us, all will be fine.

I imagine myself heading over there on Lorenzo’s opening day and maybe bringing him a coffee to welcome him to the high street. I can see him telling the business community how my guiding hand encouraged him. In turn, I’d get Business Angel of the Year and I’d humbly tell people that we’re all in this together. Maybe it’ll all be absolutely fine. After all, every restaurant, shop and taxi firm has a competitor here — why should it be different for us?

Towards the end of the day, Charlie calls out to me and tells me that the investment prospectus for Formentera has arrived and Peter is heading into the office to talk it through with us. I give Michael a call and ask if he can pop round on his way from work. Not only will he take my side if I need him to but as he runs a property maintenance company and is a very practical man, he’ll spot any issues from a mile off. Charlie opens up the prospectus on the screen and then presses print.

We wait and wait and wait while our printer tortures us spewing out one page at a time. When it’s all done and our fingernails are completely gone, Charlie picks up a bundle of pages and hands them to me. My nerves start short-circuiting through my body and I’m almost too scared to even hold them. It’s one thing making such a huge suggestion at a dinner party surrounded by friends and quite another to make it with only a sober Charlie to prop me up.

‘I feel like an actor at the Oscars,’ says Charlie. ‘I’ve got an envelope in my hand and in a short while, I’m going to open it and we’ll either be delighted or disappointed. The thing is, right now, I truly don’t know which way I’m going to feel.’

‘I know exactly what you mean.’ I take a deep breath.

Peter and Michael arrive just as we’re locking up and we all head into the back room without saying a word to each other. Boy this is nerve-wracking and we don’t even know what’s in the prospectus. We sit down at the dining table and I put my glasses on, trying to look serious and confident before I start flicking through the pages. It’s a beautifully presented document as you’d expect, with pictures of the resort to pull at your heartstrings and tempt you into investment. While Charlie starts cooing over the glorious pictures of perfect white beaches I skip past this temptation straight to the summary of the assets.

‘So there’s a guesthouse as well as a bar?’ I ask looking over my glasses at him.

‘Guesthouse, small private beach and of course the beach bar,’ Michael reads from the brochure. ‘And they all look in very good condition.’

‘It seems to be a pretty self-contained pitch,’ adds Peter. ‘They’re looking for people to work with this infrastructure rather than suggest any major works. The events Mercury is famous for would really suit this and the wedding idea is pretty spot on.’

I nod intelligently. I’m struggling to hold onto this calm demeanour as the excitement bubbles up. This really does look right up our street. I nod at the boys and together we open the page that outlines the investment requirements.

‘Oh, Angie, it’s not completely unaffordable,’ says Charlie, squeaking gleefully as I try not to giggle along at his enthusiasm. He’s reading my mind.

‘No,’ continues Peter who seems to automatically put his Business Investment Adviser hat on at the sight of numbers. ‘I’ve taken an educated guess at the likely outlay but you two need to assess the potential bookings. The resort itself is already a very profitable enterprise and it would definitely boost the core business. It needs a bit of a refresh but it doesn’t currently do weddings, so if you were to add them, you’d probably increase both yield per customer and capacity with a respectable outlay.’

This is what I need to hear. As lovely as it is fantasising about a beach bar where Patty organizes the dancing and Charlie mixes a Tropical Sunset cocktail, Peter seems to know what to say. I can’t help thinking that this has come at exactly the right time. It’s the extra string to our bow that we need and something any competitor couldn’t possibly compete with. We’d be in a different league.

‘How would we fund this?’ I ask.

‘If trading levels stay as they are, you could take some capital out of Mercury quite safely,’ Peter says. ‘Or you could look for an investor or even borrow the money and keep the businesses entirely separate.’

Throughout this, Charlie is trying not to burst with excitement. Then he can’t stop himself and grabs both my hands, clutching them to his chest.

‘Think about it, Angie. The Mercury Travel Island Retreat. I mean to say, how utterly fabulous is that?’

It happens again — I’m picturing myself in that exclusive resort, waving politely at the celebs staying with us. I’m tanned, confidently negotiating with the locals and signing important documents. I have world-renowned business dinners overlooking the sea and an agent keeps pestering me to write a business autobiography. Oh no, Mum has just appeared. She’s telling them, ‘This heat plays havoc with my ankles. Just look at the size of them.’

She’s showing her swollen legs off to my esteemed guests. What on earth is she doing in my fantasy world? I shake myself from my ruined dream and see that I have two pairs of eyes on stalks waiting for me to speak. I so want to do this but questions keep racing through my head: how do you run a business that you don’t sit in every day? Who makes the beds in the guesthouse? How do I stop my mum getting a visa to travel? I try to shake them off, hoping that I’m not in charge of bed-making in this future world. I try to think of a sensible question, one that an international businesswoman would ask.

‘Is this really feasible?’ I say eventually. ‘Peter — you have to tell us honestly, are we kidding ourselves? I mean most businesses don’t expand this much do they?’

‘No most fail before they get here,’ says Peter. ‘And it’s a risk but a manageable one.’

‘It would be incredible,’ says Charlie. ‘Our own exclusive resort. We’re not mad, the numbers really stack up too, don’t they, Peter?’

‘They do and you can see that. You already have a loyal customer base looking for new ideas from you but it would be hard work, keeping Mercury at its current levels and starting something like this.’ He has his independent advisor voice on.

‘Hard work, schmard work,’ dismisses Charlie. ‘Not a problem for this team.’

I tidy up the prospectus newsreader-style and lay it in front of me. The guys say nothing, but watch me and I leave a dramatic pause before announcing, ‘OK. Let’s do it, let’s take it to the next stage.’

Charlie leaps up and hugs me, then Michael joins in. Once untangled from the hug, Peter shakes my hand as if we’ve already won the bid. I’m excited, scared but excited. I have to stay focused.

‘What do we need to do first?’ I ask.

‘Well, there’s a deadline for all interested parties, so you’d have to get your proposal in by the end of May,’ Peter replies. ‘They’ll favour ideas that can get up and running quickly — which yours can, but before you even start drafting that proposal, you have to be completely sure that you want to do this. I’d advise you both to take some time and discuss it quietly. Go in with one good idea well executed, like the weddings, and then develop the proposal. I’m happy to help with that. Remember, you may not get this however good your ideas are ― the owners might prefer someone else’s bid.’

‘But at least we’ll have tried,’ Charlie gushes. ‘And our idea will be the best, I just know it.’

If Charlie’s enthusiasm could win the bid, then we’ll probably walk this, but for now we have to get back to the day job. I clear up the coffee and tidy up the prospectus telling everyone that I’ll get copies sent through to them.

‘Let’s each take a week to look through the details on our own. Charlie and I will assess the potential for sales, Michael if you look for any infrastructure and maintenance issues and we’ll get our numbers to Peter to stress test the business plan. If we’re still as enthusiastic when we’ve really interrogated this, we should start the proposal and get an appointment with the bank manager.’ I receive nods all round.

‘And just in case you need additional inspiration...’ From his man-bag, Charlie hauls out a pile of style magazines and brochures with colour schemes and accessories for the yurts.

‘Numbers before cushions please, Charlie.’ I shake my head in mock-despair but nevertheless take them and have a quick flick through.

The brochures are stunning and I can imagine any bride looking at this resort and wanting to be married there. Somehow, the beachside setting and the horizon beyond look so full of hope. As if the wedding is the start of a huge adventure, a voyage to be taken together. You almost have to look to the future when you’re standing in front of an infinite ocean. ‘You can do anything, you can go anywhere,’ it seems to call out.

I think back to my wedding with my ex-husband Alan. It was a very traditional church affair as was the fashion at the time. It was post-Charles and Di, so big dresses and conspicuous consumption were all the rage. Mum insisted on inviting every relative twice removed as well as friends and neighbours. I barely knew some of the congregation but small weddings were just not done. My side of the church was crammed so Mum could sleep easy knowing that she’d shown everyone we were a popular family. I dread to think what she’d have said if I’d asked for one of the modern weddings people have these days. Mind you, I doubt I’d have asked for one. I can understand wanting a small registry office or something very personal like Charlie and Peter had but I can’t imagine copying those couples who choose to get married dressed as Batman and Robin or in deep-sea-diving costumes. Do they really look back to the day with fondness? I wonder how many look at their wedding photos and cringe? My wedding dress with its puff-ball sleeves looked a bit OTT by today’s standards but at least I can say it was in fashion at the time.

However, to me Formentera looks timeless and I believe that anyone looking back at a wedding on this island will remember it lovingly. The more I think about it, the more I want to do this despite my nerves. I love Mercury Travel and I get so much joy from making sure every holidaymaker has an absolutely marvellous time, one that will be talked about and reminisced over for many years. Charlie and I do take the time to make every event special and we would do the same if we ran these weddings. If I put myself in the shoes of our future brides, I know that every sense would be running wild when they got to this island. They’d be mesmerized by the stunning beauty but also the sound of the ocean, the sensation of the light breeze and the aroma of...

‘Oleander — they’re native to the Island, add a splash of colour and have a beautiful perfume. They’re perfect for a romantic evening stroll.’

I’m pulled back to the moment by Michael who is holding up his phone with a picture of a bright pink flower.

‘I started reading up on the island for today and spotted all the stunning flowers you’d be able to use for the weddings,’ he adds swiping through pictures.

‘Thank you,’ I say. ‘They really are gorgeous.’

Out of the corner of my eye I spot Charlie and Peter folding their arms knowingly.

‘I think we might have our first customers,’ murmurs Charlie.

He gets my very best look of scorn for that comment but inside I’m smiling.