literary tradition, as you know. And in among all the tat and
sex there are still a number of people of that ilk. Intellectuals, with money to spend. And of course the shop would draw people from
all over the metropolis. It’s ideally located, centrally, close to the Underground.’
‘And the premises?’
‘A bit run- down. The current occupant is nearing retirement.
He’s happy to hand the place over to me. I’ve managed to get a good deal on the lease, but time’s short. It doesn’t need much to tart the 68
1ST_9780241206935_TheGoodLiar.indd 68
05/05/15 5:32 PM
place up and make it look presentable. My business partner has
good contacts with suppliers and is currently in talks with them.
We’re most optimistic.’
‘I’m sure you are,’ said Mr Price. ‘You will be aware that this is
not precisely a propitious time for new businesses. Consequently
banks will approach any new investment with extreme caution.’
‘Oh yes,’ replied Roy, ‘and quite right too.’
‘If I may say so, Mr Courtnay, you do not exactly seem to me to
be the kind of person who would see his future in catering to the
needs of . . . a bohemian clientele?’
‘If you mean, do I associate with a bunch of long- haired,
self- obsessed hippies, the answer is most certainly no. But I’m happy to take their money. That’s the beauty of it. You see these things
they laughably call businesses, these cooperatives, these well-
meaning women with their self- knitted tie- dyed umbrellas, and you don’t know whether to laugh or cry. But I can make a business
work.’
‘I see. Personally, I wouldn’t entertain the notion for a moment.
The issue is not so much you as a potential borrower, or your
business acumen’ – he affords Roy a thin smile – ‘as your target audience. Wholly unreliable, in my view, as well as, I must say, morally questionable.’
‘Quite so,’ said Roy with a smile. ‘But –’
‘However,’ continued Mr Price, holding up a hand to stop him, ‘I
am prepared to put this up to head office. I dare say views there may be rather more progressive than my own. I wish you every good
fortune.’
4
At work he played surreptitiously with scissors, glue, a typewriter and an old letter from his bank, producing a collage that would pass muster when run through the new Xerox machine in the corner of
the typing pool, which was guarded assiduously by the head of the
clerical staff. He waited until the lunch break, when, with sweating 69
1ST_9780241206935_TheGoodLiar.indd 69
05/05/15 5:32 PM
fingers, he made his copy. The first effort was reasonable, and he ran off two more just to be safe. Back at his desk, his attempt at
Mr Price’s signature was rather too shaky for his liking and he was glad to have a second copy.
It was a regrettable but necessary subterfuge. The wheels of
Lyons Bank ground exceeding slow. He was confident of receiving
the loan but needed to sign the lease straight away. There was no
way of covering the gap other than by producing a letter confirm-
ing sufficient funds in his account and signing a cheque that, he
hoped, would not be cashed immediately. Further cheques would
need to follow for utilities and the modest fit- out of the premises.
Cheques would not be necessary to buy stock: in this business hard
cash was what it would take before Martin’s continental suppliers
released goods to them. Roy had ideas about where to find the
liquid assets to effect the necessary deals.
He left the office at four, claiming illness. He reckoned he’d need the next day off as well. But he required this job only for a short while longer. Soon he would be released from the long grey linoleum corridors and liberated into the bright lights of the real world.
5
It was high time for one of their periodic arguments. She could start a fight in an empty room, he always thought. Well, so be it; it was convenient right now. In fact it was necessary. It would not take
much to
sex there are still a number of people of that ilk. Intellectuals, with money to spend. And of course the shop would draw people from
all over the metropolis. It’s ideally located, centrally, close to the Underground.’
‘And the premises?’
‘A bit run- down. The current occupant is nearing retirement.
He’s happy to hand the place over to me. I’ve managed to get a good deal on the lease, but time’s short. It doesn’t need much to tart the 68
1ST_9780241206935_TheGoodLiar.indd 68
05/05/15 5:32 PM
place up and make it look presentable. My business partner has
good contacts with suppliers and is currently in talks with them.
We’re most optimistic.’
‘I’m sure you are,’ said Mr Price. ‘You will be aware that this is
not precisely a propitious time for new businesses. Consequently
banks will approach any new investment with extreme caution.’
‘Oh yes,’ replied Roy, ‘and quite right too.’
‘If I may say so, Mr Courtnay, you do not exactly seem to me to
be the kind of person who would see his future in catering to the
needs of . . . a bohemian clientele?’
‘If you mean, do I associate with a bunch of long- haired,
self- obsessed hippies, the answer is most certainly no. But I’m happy to take their money. That’s the beauty of it. You see these things
they laughably call businesses, these cooperatives, these well-
meaning women with their self- knitted tie- dyed umbrellas, and you don’t know whether to laugh or cry. But I can make a business
work.’
‘I see. Personally, I wouldn’t entertain the notion for a moment.
The issue is not so much you as a potential borrower, or your
business acumen’ – he affords Roy a thin smile – ‘as your target audience. Wholly unreliable, in my view, as well as, I must say, morally questionable.’
‘Quite so,’ said Roy with a smile. ‘But –’
‘However,’ continued Mr Price, holding up a hand to stop him, ‘I
am prepared to put this up to head office. I dare say views there may be rather more progressive than my own. I wish you every good
fortune.’
4
At work he played surreptitiously with scissors, glue, a typewriter and an old letter from his bank, producing a collage that would pass muster when run through the new Xerox machine in the corner of
the typing pool, which was guarded assiduously by the head of the
clerical staff. He waited until the lunch break, when, with sweating 69
1ST_9780241206935_TheGoodLiar.indd 69
05/05/15 5:32 PM
fingers, he made his copy. The first effort was reasonable, and he ran off two more just to be safe. Back at his desk, his attempt at
Mr Price’s signature was rather too shaky for his liking and he was glad to have a second copy.
It was a regrettable but necessary subterfuge. The wheels of
Lyons Bank ground exceeding slow. He was confident of receiving
the loan but needed to sign the lease straight away. There was no
way of covering the gap other than by producing a letter confirm-
ing sufficient funds in his account and signing a cheque that, he
hoped, would not be cashed immediately. Further cheques would
need to follow for utilities and the modest fit- out of the premises.
Cheques would not be necessary to buy stock: in this business hard
cash was what it would take before Martin’s continental suppliers
released goods to them. Roy had ideas about where to find the
liquid assets to effect the necessary deals.
He left the office at four, claiming illness. He reckoned he’d need the next day off as well. But he required this job only for a short while longer. Soon he would be released from the long grey linoleum corridors and liberated into the bright lights of the real world.
5
It was high time for one of their periodic arguments. She could start a fight in an empty room, he always thought. Well, so be it; it was convenient right now. In fact it was necessary. It would not take
much to
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