Read Online In Vino Veritas by J. M. Gregson - Free Book Online Page A

Alistair. He had wanted it to be the harshest of challenges, cutting through the fripperies of polite exchanges. Somehow it sounded rather feeble in this large, quiet room, with its big framed photograph of the Malvern Hills, which always seemed to remind him of man’s impermanence in this ancient landscape.
    â€˜And what would you mean by that?’ Beaumont hadn’t lost his surface affability; the meaningless smile remained glued to his face. But he was on his guard now, Alistair had no doubt about that. He looked beyond Morton, out through the big window to where Sarah Vaughan had just driven her Honda into the car park. Beaumont was glad to note her arrival; he had feared when she was not here at nine o’clock as usual that she might be planning some retribution for yesterday’s little incident.
    Alistair glanced at the photograph of Beaumont standing alone beside their first tractor, hoping that the man in the big, round-backed leather chair would follow his look and his thoughts. ‘I worked for practically nothing for you in the early days.’
    Beaumont raised his eyebrows. This was familiar ground to him, but he had prepared his tactics. He would pretend that Morton’s renewed accusations were a disappointment to him, a revival of an argument he thought he’d already settled. ‘We all worked hard to get things off the ground. We can all look back to the sacrifices we had to make to get the show on the road. And equally, we can all be proud of the progress we have made since those early days.’ They were the opening words of a press handout he had given to one of the glossy magazines three months ago, but he doubted whether this man would have read that article.
    Morton wished the big man would just shut up and let him state his case. He followed the movement of Beaumont’s lips, but as the man went on with his bluster he heard less and less of what he said. Eventually he interrupted him. ‘I worked for almost nothing for you for five years at the beginning. Found and exploited every loophole which a new business could exploit, got you allowances you’d never have dreamed of for yourself. Even cut one or two corners for you, to make sure that every penny could be ploughed back into development.’
    Beaumont grinned, happy to show how little he was affected by the man’s earnestness. ‘Careful now, Alistair. We wouldn’t want you to go admitting to any little peccadilloes that might get you struck off, would we? Do they unfrock accountants, or is that just randy vicars?’
    Alistair found his voice rising to a shout in the face of this derision. ‘Just shut up, will you, and listen to what I’m saying. I worked for peanuts for at least the first five years when we started this. That was on the clear understanding that I would eventually become a partner and a director of the enterprise.’
    â€˜Not my recollection, I’m afraid. I seem to remember we’ve had this discussion before. I was hoping we’d agreed to differ and get on with our different tasks. Not good for any business to be running a divided ship, is it? Or am I mixing my metaphors there?’ Beaumont frowned and shook his head, as if a proper literary style was at that moment pre-eminent among his objectives.
    â€˜You know as well as I do what was agreed. I was to become a partner in the business as soon as it proved itself a going concern.’
    â€˜Let other people take all the risks until the business was a guaranteed success, you mean? That hardly seems a likely arrangement for a businessman like me to make, does it?’
    There was an awful sort of logic about that. Alistair could see him arguing that line with a third party and sounding very convincing. He said doggedly, ‘You know and I know what was agreed.’
    Martin Beaumont raised the bushy eyebrows on his wide face as high as they would go, making him look to Morton like a caricature of