J. Gregson - In Vino Veritas

He was a powerful man; she had no delusions about that. And she had long ago accepted the old saw that power was the greatest aphrodisiac. You wanted to investigate men who had power. You wanted to discover how they had acquired it and how they thought of the people whose lives they controlled. It gave them an extra and highly important dimension. It was very easy to persuade yourself that men who exercised power had greater intelligence and greater depth to their personalities than was in fact the case.

With the benefit of hindsight and that pitiless objectivity with which one examines past sexual mistakes, she saw now that she had invested Martin Beaumont with this kind of mystique. There was really nothing very complex or intriguing about either his power or the way he exercised it. He was a man on the make, with a sharp eye for the main chance, and there wasn’t a lot more to it than that. He had acquired a certain amount of money early in life — she had never found out exactly how — and he had used cunning and ruthlessness to make a lot more. There was no reason to see him as more incisive or more gifted than he was, but she had tended to do that.

Like many a disillusioned ex-lover, Vanda went too far in her reactions. Martin Beaumont had in fact inherited a certain amount of money as a young man, but he had been shrewd and capable in his use of it. Moreover, he had had both a vision and the courage and the determination to pursue it. When he had conceived the idea of a vineyard in Gloucestershire, it had been both an original and a high-risk notion. He had to produce figures to convince his bankers that it was a commercial proposition, rather than an enthusiast’s indulgence, a hobby which would eventually ruin him.

Martin had worked very hard in the early years, had ploughed back every penny of the meagre profits into developing the business. Gradually, he had acquired and developed more and more land for viniculture. A sceptical public in what was essentially a rural area had gradually accepted that the vineyard was here to stay. Indeed, the more enlightened locals had eventually conceded that, with all the problems of both arable and livestock farming in the area and the yearly evidence of global warming, there might just be a future for Abbey Vineyards.

The outbreak of foot-and-mouth disease and its sombre consequences in the early years of the new century had reinforced that view. What most had seen as a gimmick might just have a future. As the monstrous piles of burning cattle carcasses clouded the skies with their dark smoke and darker smells, viniculture seemed not only possible but desirable, even glamorous. Discreet advertising helped to reinforce the impression that Abbey Vineyards was a more innocent use of the land than dairy farming, or even the sheep farming which was suffering intense competition from overseas.

Vanda North had put all the money she had into Abbey Vineyards ten years earlier, when she had been more besotted with Beaumont than she had realized at the time. It should have been a good investment — perhaps would have been, if she had taken more care over the terms on which she had entered the concern, instead of letting Martin draw up the junior partnership deal. She realized now that she needed some income, that what might be a promising deal on the face of it did not suit her needs. Income was ploughed back each year into new developments, and she was committed for an indefinite period. She had no right to sell her holding without the approval of the senior partner, and Martin was never going to give it.

She was determined to assert herself, but she was uncharacteristically uncertain about how to do that. As if he read her mind and saw her dilemma, Martin Beaumont said suddenly, ‘We need to go on expanding.’

This assertion, the very opposite of what she wanted to hear, freed her tongue at last. ‘On the contrary, all the signs are that we need a period of retrenchment. No firm can afford to ignore this recession. No one is going to be immune to its effects.’

‘You heard the feeling of the meeting yesterday. We are not a typical industry. You need to realize that what is going to be a difficult time for others may well be a time of opportunity for us.’

‘No, I didn’t hear the feeling of the meeting. What I did hear was you asserting these things, in the face of what other people were saying about the need for caution.’

She could see him pausing to control himself before he spoke. What had seemed an impressive ruthlessness in the early days of their association now struck her as an autocratic cruelty. ‘I repeat what I said. We need to expand.’

‘That is flying in the face of the facts.’

‘On the contrary, it is perfectly logical, Vanda. For a start, if others around us suffer, the price of land will come down. We should take advantage of that.’

She felt her anger rising, her hands beginning to tremble. The very things she had been determined to avoid when she came in here were beginning to happen. ‘You can do whatever you like. I want out.’

He smiled, unaware how obnoxious that made him seem to her. ‘Not possible, I’m afraid, Vanda. The terms of our agreement prevent that. The terms you signed up to quite willingly.’

‘You took advantage of me. You know I didn’t read any of it very carefully at the time.’

‘Forgive me if this sounds ungallant, Vanda, but you weren’t some young ingenue ten years ago. You were a mature woman of thirty-six who knew exactly what she was doing.’

‘If you’re saying I was a fool, at least that’s one thing we can agree on. I was a fool to trust you.’

‘I’m sorry you should feel that. I was putting you into an excellent investment.’

‘On terms which prevented me from realizing it for twenty-five years, unless one of us died in the meantime.’

‘Perfectly normal practice, when one is developing a new business. Partners have to commit themselves. If those terms didn’t suit you, you shouldn’t have signed up to them.’

She wanted to step forward and slap him hard across his smug face. ‘I’ve never been a proper partner. I want my money out. It’s all I’ve got and I need it.’

‘Not possible, I’m afraid. It’s tied up in a developing business. It will be an excellent investment, in the long run.’

Vanda felt now that she had always known this would be the outcome. She had put herself through a humiliation which was pointless. How could she ever have found this man desirable? ‘You know as well as I do that you gave me all sorts of assurances that I could have my money out whenever I wanted, given a couple of months’ notice.’

‘I don’t remember any such promises. I’m afraid that verbal agreements have no standing unless both parties agree on what was said.’ He was enjoying the familiar feeling of exercising power over another being’s future, of knowing that he held all the cards in this particular game. ‘It wasn’t a large sum you invested, but I’m afraid it’s impossible to return it at this moment, much as I should like to.’

‘And that’s your last word?’

‘I’m afraid it has to be.’

‘I shall take legal advice on this.’

‘You’ll be wasting your money if you do. I’m sorry, but there it is.’ He didn’t look at all sorry as she flung back her chair and left his office.

Vanda North’s hands were shaking as she gripped the wheel of her car. She had to force herself to concentrate on the simple business of driving as she turned out of the car park and on to the B road outside. She caught a glimpse of Beaumont’s face at the window of his office as she went. He still had that supercilious smile he had worn for most of their exchanges. She put a mile between herself and the vineyards, then drove into the parking lay-by she had been aiming for and stopped.