Part 10 (1/2)

'Now then,' he said, once the first courses were served, 'where shall we have this restaurant and what style do you fancy?'

Why did those questions ring alarm bells in my head? Mark had stuck absolutely to his deal over the Hay Net. He had provided the finance but given me a free hand in everything else: venue, style, menus, wines, staff, the lot. I had asked him at the time to give me an indication of an overall budget for the setting up and for the first year of operation. 'More than half a million, less than a million,' is all he said. 'And what security?' I had asked him. 'The deeds to the property and a gentlemen's agreement that you will work at the venture for a minimum of ten years unless we both agree otherwise.' In the end I had used nearly all his million but his 50 per cent of profits for the past five years had paid back far more than half of it, and he still held the deeds. Over ten years, at the pre-poisoning turnover, the Hay Net would provide a very healthy return on his investment. I, of course, was delighted and proud that my little Newmarket establishment had proved to be such a success, both financially and in terms of 'standing' in the town. However, what had been more important to me than anything was my independence. It may have been Mark's money that I had used to set it up, and he ultimately owned the building in which it was housed, but it was my restaurant and I had made all the decisions, every one.

Did I detect in Mark's questions his intent to have a more hands-on role in any new London venture? Or was I jumping to conclusions? Did he not mean: where shall you you have the restaurant? Not: where shall have the restaurant? Not: where shall we we? I decided it was not the time to press the point.

'I would have a place like this,' I said. 'Traditional, yet modern.'

'It can't be both,' said Mark.

'Of course it can,' I said. 'This restaurant has traditional values with white tablecloths, good service, fine food and wine, and a degree of personal privacy for the diners. Yet the decor is modern in appearance and the food has an innovative nature with Mediterranean and Asian influences. In Newmarket my dining room is purposely more like one you might find in a private house, my food is very good but less imaginative than I would attempt here. It is not that my clients are less sophisticated than London folk, they're not. It's just that they have fewer restaurants to choose from and many come to eat at the Hay Net often, some every week. On that regular basis, they need to be comfortable rather than challenged, and they want their food predictable rather than experimental.'

'Doesn't everyone?' he asked. 'I'm having cod. Surely that's predictable?'

'Wait and see,' I replied, laughing. 'I bet you look at it twice and ask yourself if it's what you ordered. It won't be a slab of fish in batter with chips that you would get wrapped in newspaper at the local chippie. It comes with a ca.s.soulet, which is a rich bean stew, usually with white haricots, and a puree of Jerusalem artichoke. Would you know what a Jerusalem artichoke looks like? And what it tastes of?'

'Hasn't it got spiky leaves, that you suck?'

'That's a globe globe artichoke,' I said. 'A Jerusalem artichoke is artichoke,' I said. 'A Jerusalem artichoke is z z type of sunflower, and you eat the roots, which are tubers, like potatoes.' type of sunflower, and you eat the roots, which are tubers, like potatoes.'

'From Jerusalem, I a.s.sume.'

'Actually, no.' I laughed again. 'Don't ask why it's called the Jerusalem artichoke. I don't know. But it definitely has nothing to do with Jerusalem, the city.'

'Like the hymn,' said Mark. 'You know, did those feet, and all that. Nothing to do with the city. Jerusalem there means ”heaven”. Perhaps the artichokes taste like heaven too.'

'More like a radish,' I said. 'And they tend to make you fart.'

'Good,' said Mark, laughing. 'I might need my own train carriage home.'

Now, I decided, was the moment.

'Mark,' I said seriously, 'I will have absolute discretion in any new restaurant, won't I? Just like at the Hay Net?'

He sat and looked at me. I feared for a moment that I had misjudged things.

'Max,' he said finally, 'how often have I asked you how to sell a mobile phone?'

'Never.'

'Exactly. Then why would you ask me how to run a restaurant?'

'But you do eat in restaurants,' I said.

'And you use a mobile phone,' he countered.

'Fine,' I said. 'I promise I won't discuss mobile phones with you, if you promise not to discuss restaurants with me.'

He sat in silence and smiled at me. Had I really outflanked the great Mark Winsome?

'Can I have a veto?' he asked at length.

'On what?' I asked rather belligerently.

'Venue.'

What could I say? If he didn't like the venue he wouldn't sign a contract for a lease or a freehold. He had a veto on the venue anyway.

'If you provide the finance then you get a veto,' I said. 'If you don't, then you don't.'

'OK,' he said. 'Then I want to provide the finance. Same terms as before?'

'No,' I said. 'I want more than 50 per cent of the profit.'

'Isn't that a bit greedy?' he said.

'I want to be able to empower my staff with partic.i.p.ation in profit.'

'How much?'

'That's up to me,' I said. 'You get 40 per cent and I get 60 per cent and then I decide, at my sole discretion, to give as little or as much of that as I want as bonuses to my staff.'

'Do you get a salary?'

'No,' I said. 'Same as now. But I get 60 per cent instead of 50 per cent of the profit.'

'How about during setting up? Last time you took a salary from my investment for the first eighteen months.'

'But I paid it back,' I pointed out. 'This time I won't need it. I have savings and I intend to back myself with them as far as my salary is concerned.'

'Anything else?' Mark asked.

'Yes,' I said. 'Ten years is too long. Five years. Then I get tie chance to buy you out at a fair price.'

'How do you define ”fair price”?'

'I can match the best offer, public or private, made by an independent third party.'

'On what terms?'

'The cost of the lease plus 40 per cent of their valuation of die business.'

'Fifty per cent,' he said.

'No. Forty per cent of the business value and 100 per cent of the lease.'

'How about if I want to buy you out?' he asked.