‘Anyway, the product is good – can you show me your packaging?’
He had everything ready, and I was impressed. The boxes and labels were fully recycled and recyclable, as were the bottles and lids, and the design was stunning: exquisite botanical illustrations with a watercolour washed background of the moors.
‘I employed a local artist to do the design,’ explained Alexander. ‘He’s lived and worked here his entire life and I’ve always loved his work. That’s one of his too.’ He pointed to an atmospheric oil painting of the countryside that hung opposite his desk.
‘Beautiful,’ I said, ‘and a smart business move to use a local. What are your ideas for the Christmas Fayre?’
‘It’s fairly straightforward. The event is held at a fantastic Victorian town hall in a market town between here and York. You rent a stall and then decorate it however you wish. There are lots of other local producers and artisans, and it’s about the most Christmassy thing you can imagine outside the North Pole.’
I laughed.
‘Sounds perfect. Can I see some photos?’
I looked carefully at the pictures of the hall and of past events that had been held there, then looked up at Alexander, frowning. I could immediately see a problem with the setup, but I wasn’t sure if challenging his plans was going to earn me a grumpy response or not.
‘What’s the matter?’
I sighed inwardly and took the plunge.
‘I like the look of this, but with all the other stalls, I think you’re going to be competing quite hard for people’s attention. There’s a foolproof way to beat them off before the customers have even got inside, but it’ll be quite a bit of work…and, um, money…’
I trailed off. I could already envisage my idea in glorious technicolour, but I wasn’t working with an established brand that had a multimillion-pound turnover, at some fancy London event that would generate months, if not years, of income.
‘What is it?’ he asked in an abrupt tone.
I chose my words carefully. ‘Look, I’m going to suggest something quite full on, you might think it’s too much. But Ibelieve that if you can put in the time, money – and imagination – you’ll have something that will serve you well for a long time.’
‘An investment?’
‘Yes, although there are options.’
‘Please just tell me, Fallon.’
I was hoping that offering to work with Alexander hadn’t been a bad idea, but he wanted my expertise, so he was going to get it. With any luck, he would decide he didn’t need my advice, after all, and I could slope off to a quiet corner for the next few weeks. I ploughed on.
‘All right. I think that you should look at obtaining a vintage Citroën HY van – you know, those cute little corrugated metal things with the blunt noses? Lots of people use them for selling food and drink because they’re easily adapted to let the side down for an instant bar. You could park it infrontof the town hall decked out with lights and looking super Christmassy and catch people before they’ve gone inside – and as they come out again, full of festive cheer. And then you can take it around other events as well – fairs, private parties, weddings…I think it would pay for itself quite quickly – they’re very fashionable at the moment.’
I looked up a photo and showed him. He studied it intently for a moment or two, frowning, then smiled.
‘I think that’s a great idea. We’d have to check with the Christmas Fayre organisers if it would be allowed. If I did want to go ahead, how much money am I looking at?’
This part was always difficult. I knew nothing about Alexander’s finances and whether the figure I was about to announce would be instantly payable in cash or out of reach. The best thing to do, always, was to give it straight.
‘They cost between twenty and thirty grand. You’d also need specialist fridges and washing-up facilities as well as fitted storage and your logo painted on it.’
He pulled a face. ‘Ouch.’
‘Yeah, it’s a lot. I know a couple of places that sell them, so I can get you a very good deal, and look—’ I opened my laptop and tapped a few buttons. ‘These are the costings I did for a customer with a food business – his was much more expensive because of the cooking and ventilation requirements. He surpassed these figures in his first year and it paid for itself in two. No guarantees, of course, and it’s just an idea.’
He frowned as he looked at the figures.
‘Fallon, I thought you were a party planner – this is something else altogether. I’m impressed.’
I shrugged.
‘I don’t just do parties. And that’s why I like my job and owning my own company. I’ve made it about more than buying balloon arches and making sure the waiting staff arrive on time. Would you like me to cost it up for you?’
‘Could you? I think I’d like to go ahead, but it’s a lot of money and I need to mull it over. And could we get it sorted in time?’
