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

outraged innocence. ‘It seems we remember things rather differently, Alistair, which is a great pity. Have you anything in writing to support this strange recollection of our relationship during the early years of the company?’
    â€˜You know damned well I haven’t!’ Alistair sought hopelessly for some external evidence to endorse him. ‘My wife remembers it. I gave more and more of my time to your affairs, as the vineyard got off the ground. Worked day and night, sometimes. The other work I scraped together as a freelancer scarcely provided a living wage. We depended on her work as a secretary to survive.’
    That oily, ridiculous smile was back on Beaumont’s hated features. ‘Scarcely the most objective of witnesses, a wife. I’m sure that as an experienced financial man you’d readily agree with that, Alistair.’
    Morton leaned forward, planting his fingers desperately on the edge of the big desk in front of him. ‘We didn’t think we needed anything in writing, in those early, enthusiastic days. Leastways, you didn’t. And I was foolish enough to let you convince me that we didn’t.’
    Beaumont looked at the fingers clasping the other side of his desk for a moment, as if studying with interest the movements of some small mammal. Then he said, ‘It doesn’t really sound like the conduct of a man trained in finance, does it, Alistair? A trained accountant, whose first watchword must surely be prudence? I can’t think that anyone like that would have been party to some wildcat scheme which involved him giving his valuable time and labour for nothing, in exchange for some vague promise of jam in the future. I ask you, does it sound likely behaviour for an accountant, even to you? Do you think you’ve made out the sort of case which would convince any kind of mediator we might choose to bring in to resolve the issue? I don’t think so, and neither will you if you give the matter some sober reflection.’
    â€˜It’s over twenty years ago. I was a young man then, and you had enthusiasm and the gift of the gab. You sold me the notion of developing our own firm, of being our own bosses. You had a certain amount of capital to set up the company, I had the necessary financial skills to set it on the right lines and guide it through the early years. You know and I know what we agreed. I’m simply giving you the chance to honour that agreement, even at this belated stage.’
    â€˜I’m afraid we must agree to differ on this one, Alistair. I think you would agree that you are handsomely paid for your present services to the company. I suppose we might stretch to another thousand or so, if it would resolve your difficulties.’
    â€˜I’m not arguing about my present remuneration. I’m telling you that I shouldn’t be on a salary at all. I should be taking my part in formulating the policies of the company and receiving my share of the profits.’
    â€˜Cloud cuckoo land, I’m afraid, Alistair. Somewhere along the line – somewhere well in the past now – you’ve picked up the idea that I made silly promises to you about the future of my company. The sooner you dispense with that idea, the better for you as well as for everyone else concerned. I’m happy with the way you advise on the present financial status and problems of the company, and am content to pay you well for that. I should hate it if I had to look for a new head of finance. If you persist with these unreal ideas, I may be left with no alternative but to do that.’ He made an elaborate ploy of looking at his watch. ‘And now, unless you have any more relevant ideas for me to consider, I think we should both get on with our working days.’
    Alistair Morton offered him a look of molten anger, which lost all meaning when he found he was being coolly ignored in favour of the contents of a folder on Beaumont’s desk.