Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 83343 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 417(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 278(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83343 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 417(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 278(@300wpm)
“So I’m just landlord?”
“Yes. Or you could do a sale and leaseback if you wanted to release the capital. Or you can just leverage the entire project.”
“That doesn’t get me out.”
“No, it would just release your cash.”
“I suppose that’s a start. When don’t the numbers work?”
“You can’t overpay the earl for the estate. And you’ve got to get planning permission.”
“I’ll get planning permission.” I’ve already had fireside chats with the planning department. I prefer to deal with areas of greatest risk personally. The committee members I spoke to knew the earl was going to sell, just as they knew the house isn’t sustainable as it is.
“It’s a risk,” Jason says.
The risk itself doesn’t concern me. “I think from what you’re telling me, there’s very little downside.”
Jason laughs. “I think it’s a big project that’s going to take a lot of time and attention. And. . .I just don’t know if it’s you.”
“It’s me because it’s going to make me money. Don’t worry. I’m not planning on becoming the new earl. I’ll put someone in there I trust, like I always do. It’s not like I’m going to stick around and check guests in at reception. It’s an investment. I’ll need to be on the ground for a few weeks and then I’ll leave it to the team. Just like any other project like this we’ve done.”
“The WACC is fourteen point two percent so long as you pay less than ten million and you get planning permission,” Jason says. “That’s better than best-case scenario when we ran the numbers on the back of an envelope. And what do we think the earl will take to sell?”
“He’s clearly motivated,” I say. “I just think it comes down to whether he has any other buyers.”
My gut tells me we’re the only interested buyers. I also suspect the earl likes me and would be happy to sell to me. I managed to run into him at a charity dinner this week, shortly after I visited the house.
“Don’t go higher than nine,” I say. “Call me when it’s done.”
I hit leave meeting and take out my phone. It’s still on Crompton’s Instagram page, the comment from Kate left without a response from me.
I start to type. “I bet it was a beautiful place to grow up.”
It’s also a great investment. One I’m not willing to pass up.
NINE
Kate
It’s rare the staff of the Crompton Estate are summoned to a meeting with the earl. In fact, I can’t remember a time when it’s happened before, but from all across the estate, people are making their way towards the house, where we’ve been asked to assemble in the long room. The gardens have only been closed fifteen minutes, but in that time, I’ve been able to finish clearing up at the tea shop and race home to get Granny.
“Just take it steady,” I say to Granny, who’s charging ahead in the June sun. “We have plenty of time.”
“I know,” she says. “I just want to get a seat at the front.”
“You think they’ll have set seats out in the long room?” I ask. “Seems like an awful hassle to me.” Granny presses her lips together in a way that indicates she’s not telling me everything. “You think people will be upset and need to sit down? Do you think the earl is ill?”
She waves her hand in front of her like she’s shooing chickens. “That man will live until he’s a hundred and ten. He’s fine.”
“You think he’s going to announce redundancies?” I ask. That was one of the rumors Sandra suggested. Another was that the staff cottages were getting an overhaul and we’d have to move out temporarily. Then of course, there’s Basil’s conspiracy theory that the earl is selling the estate.
“Darling, look at the place,” she says. “There’s a plastic bag covering a hole in the orangery’s roof. There are weeds growing out of the cracks in the walls.”
“There are not,” I reply. “The house looks great. But what are you trying to say?”
“I mean the staff cottages.”
“You’re exaggerating. Maybe the earl is announcing bonuses for us all.” I don’t think that’s a real possibility, but I don’t think it’s less of a possibility than any of the other suggestions I’ve heard today.
“Believe me, I’ve seen it for myself. A daisy flowered just above Basil’s skirting board last week.”
“You should have said. I would happily . . .” I pause. I’m not quite sure what the appropriate fix is for interloping daisies. “Pick it. And I’m sure Rio would plug any holes from the outside.”
“I’m just saying, the earl is running out of money.”
It’s like someone stole the air from my lungs. “That’s not true. The earl doesn’t know about daisies growing in Basil’s sitting room.”
“Doesn’t he?” she asks.
“Basil likes to complain, but only to people who can’t do anything to fix it. If he told the earl, the earl would do something.”