Barbara Bradford - A Woman of Substance

‘Until Monday, Vince. Goodbye.’ Emma sat back in the chair, wondering if she should let the two remaining travellers go and cease all selling to other retailers, to reserve the stocks for herself in case of shortages. A knock on the door interrupted her musings. Emma looked up as Gladys Barnes, her young secretary, poked her head around the door.

‘Mr Ainsley has arrived, Mrs Harte.’

‘Show him in, Gladys, please.’

‘Yes, Mrs Harte.’

Emma stood up, smoothed her skirt, and automatically patted her hair, walking across the floor to welcome her solicitor, whom she had been expecting. She was therefore taken aback, and also irritated, when Ainsley’s son, Arthur, appeared on the threshold.

Arthur Ainsley, tall, slender, and with the blond good looks of a juvenile lead, was conscious of his physical attributes and the effect they had on most women. Elegantly dressed in a somewhat dandified manner, he played the part of the dashing young buck to the hilt and now he sauntered in with debonair aplomb.

He’s forgotten his tennis racquet, Emma thought disparagingly, but she proffered him a charming smile. ‘Good morning, Mr Ainsley.’

‘Good morning, Mrs Harte. You look as splendid as always.’ Ainsley flashed his perfect teeth and took her outstretched hand, his clasp lingering too long for Emma’s comfort.

‘Why, thank you, Mr Ainsley. Please, do sit down.’ She glided to her desk and sat behind it, still smiling, sheathing her annoyance. In her opinion, Arthur Ainsley was a fop and she regarded him as his father’s errand boy, even though he was a junior partner with the law firm. ‘Is your father joining us?’ she asked in an even tone.

‘No, I’m afraid he can’t. He came down with a frightful cold last night. Hence my presence instead of his,’ Arthur replied, suavely apologetic.

‘I am sorry,’ Emma murmured.

‘However,’ Arthur went on quickly, ‘he did ask me to tell you that you may telephone him at home, if you consider it necessary after our meeting. That is, if you feel I am not able to help you with your-er-er-problem.’

‘I don’t have a problem, Mr Ainsley,’ Emma said coolly. ‘I merely wished to bring to conclusion a certain matter I have been discussing with your father. I think you will be able to handle it quite adequately, since all the major work has been done already.’

Arthur Ainsley ignored her patronizing tone, although he winced. He had been trying to ingratiate himself with Emma Harte for the past year without success, and this infuriated him. Nevertheless, he responded with studied charm. ‘I sincerely hope I can, Mrs Harte. I always aim to please, you know.’

‘Indeed,’ Emma said dismissively. ‘When I spoke to your father yesterday morning I did not explain why I wished to see him today, so obviously he was unable to brief you. Let me fill you in. Several weeks ago I started negotiations with Mr William Layton, of Layton’s woollen mill in Armley. Mr Layton has wanted to sell for some time. He’s getting too old to run the mill efficiently and his business has fallen off drastically. Mostly due to the poor quality of the cloth he has been producing and indifferent selling. In fact, it’s my opinion he’s only a few steps away from bankruptcy. Mr Layton agreed to sell the mill to me for fifty thousand pounds. I considered this a fairly reasonable figure, although the mill is small, there’s virtually no good will to speak of, and his customers are few. He’s also stuck with an enormous quantity of shoddy cloth which I will have to practically give away, simply to get rid of it-’

‘It doesn’t sound like a good proposition to me,’ Arthur cut in, hoping to impress her.

Emma frowned and held up her hand. ‘Please, Mr Ainsley, let me finish!’ Her voice was chilly. ‘The machinery is good and the building is sound, if in need of a few renovations. Also, Layton’s is carrying huge stocks of raw wool, of major importance to me. Anyway, to come to the point, Mr Layton agreed to my terms, which were fifteen thousand on signing of the purchase agreements, ten thousand after three months, and the final payment of twenty-five thousand pounds at the end of six months. That is approximately the length of time I require to turn the mill around. We were about to go to contract when Mr Layton backed down. His excuse was that he no longer wanted to sell. I found this hard to swallow, but naturally I had to respect his decision.’

‘You probably could have held him to that agreement, you know, even though it was verbal,’ Arthur interjected. ‘I’m sure my father told you that, didn’t he?’

‘He did indeed,’ Emma said. ‘However, I decided at the time not to do so. Mr Layton is an old man and I didn’t want to back him into a corner. After all, it was his prerogative to change his mind. I told your father I would look around for another suitable mill, since I was anxious to acquire one. Then a few days ago I discovered, through a reliable source of my own, that Mr Layton had received another offer,’ Emma explained. ‘This offer was not higher than mine, but the terms were seemingly more appealing to Mr Layton. My competitor was prepared to make two payments instead of three, each one of twenty-five thousand pounds. The first on signing, the second after six months. I am not an unreasonable woman, Mr Ainsley, but Mr Layton’s duplicity appalled me. After all, we had shaken hands on the deal and then he turned around and reneged. Moreover, he did not have the integrity to inform me of that bid, and so give me the opportunity to match it.’

‘I appreciate your feelings, Mrs Harte,’ Arthur said with a fawning smile. ‘I suppose you want to match this new bid?’

‘No, better it, in a sense. I have decided to pay the purchase price in full. On Monday.’

Arthur Ainsley sat up smartly, rubbing his chin nervously. ‘But that’s not bettering it, is it? You’re simply changing the payment schedule, that’s all. What makes you think the other party won’t do the same thing? Then you’d be faced with an impasse, and Layton still might not sell to you. Also, how do you know they haven’t concluded the transaction?’

Emma smiled confidently. ‘They haven’t, and I happen to know that the party in question does not have the ready cash to make payment in full at this moment. He has just modernized the mill he owns and has put in costly machinery. I realize, of course, that he could borrow from the bank to purchase Layton’s. That would have been very good business practice a week ago, but today, with the bank rate up to 8 per cent, I think the rival buyer may well have second thoughts about doing that. I’ve been informed that he’s over-extended and well into the bank already. They may not wish to oblige him with further credit. It is my belief that if I move swiftly I can knock him out of the picture completely.’

‘Yes, perhaps you can,’ Arthur agreed cautiously.

‘It is also my understanding that Mr Layton does not want protracted negotiations. His creditors are on his back and he wants a fast sale. And so I am dealing from strength, wouldn’t you say?

Arthur nodded, obviously impressed. She was constantly surprising both him and his father. Then another thought struck him. ‘Look here, let’s think about this for a second. Are you sure you want to invest fifty thousand in a new business at a time like this? Since we are at war. I’m not so sure this is a moment for taking risks.’

‘I’m not taking any risks and, furthermore, this is exactly the right time to buy Layton’s, because I intend to obtain government contracts to produce cloth for the armed forces. Cloth for uniforms, Mr Ainsley. With those contracts I can have that mill on its feet and in profit overnight!’

‘Well, I must say, you certainly think of everything!’ He had no doubts she would get the contracts, yet he felt compelled to say, ‘ Are you sure? Really sure you can get them? It occurs to me the established cloth manufacturers in Yorkshire will be after the same contracts. They could beat you to it.’