Free Summer Daydreams by Carole Matthews Page A

Clooney (something I try to do as often as possible) – and I think that Tod Urban is also one of them.
    ‘No need to be nervous, Nell,’ he says. His mouth curls into a warm smile. ‘Just relax. Kick back.’
    I fiddle with my handbag. Kicking back won’t happen. Bolt upright is going to have to suffice.
    ‘We’re just going to have a chat,’ he explains. ‘Find out what makes each of us tick. See if we can work well together.’
    I nod. Come on, voice, make a reappearance!
    ‘Shall I start by telling you about myself? How I came to be an advisor for Best of Business?’
    ‘Yes, please,’ I squeak.
    ‘Well, I’ve been in the fashion industry for longer than I care to remember. For the last fifteen years I was a buyer in the trade,’ Tod tells me. ‘Before that, I was a designer working with people like Brit Connection, Nikki Dahly, Made with Love.’
    All big designer names. I’m impressed. And not a little over-awed.
    ‘I’m semi-retired now,’ he goes on.
    I think he can only be late forties, early fifties at a push. Young to consider retiring.
    ‘I wanted to get out of the rat race. You know how it is.’
    I can only nod. I think I may actually be trying to get into the rat race.
    ‘I have a house in the South of France that I like to spend time at, so I do some consultancy work now and I usually mentor one or two people here at Best of Business at any one time. We should all give something back, right?’
    ‘Right,’ I echo. But I think that first I would actually like to take something out.
    ‘I like to think that I could help you to avoid making the mistakes that I did when I started out.’
    That’s music to my ears. I’m so naive that I don’t even know what mistakes I can make.
    Tod Urban spreads his hands expansively. ‘So,’ he says. ‘I’m all yours.’ His smile is very disarming and I think I’m getting a bit hot under the collar. ‘How can I help?’
    ‘I’m looking to start a business,’ I tell him, ‘and really have no idea where to begin.’
    He glances at the folder on his lap. ‘Designing handbags, it says on my notes.’
    ‘That’s right.’
    ‘Any experience?’
    I shake my head. ‘Not in that line.’
    ‘But you do work now?
    ‘In a chip shop.’
    He roars with laughter. ‘Quite a change then.’
    ‘I guess so.’
    ‘Well, I admire your ambition, Nell. If you want to know, I started out as a welder. It was the other blokes on the site who persuaded me to try something else. They could see that my heart wasn’t in being on a building site for the rest of my life.’
    ‘That’s pretty much what the guys I work with in the chip shop have done with me,’ I admit. ‘I gave the shop a makeover and they all said that I should try something else. Something more creative.’
    He makes a steeple of his hands and studies me over it. ‘As well as being creative, you know that you’re going to need a lot of grit and determination.’
    ‘I think I have that.’
    ‘Plus some cash to get you going.’
    ‘That I don’t really have,’ I confess. I only want to tap into Phil’s money as a very last resort. If I can give it back to him now, so much the better.
    ‘Luckily, that’s where I come in. I’ll go through your business plan with you and see if we can’t get you a grant or two as a kick-start. Times are tough but, if we look hard enough, there’s money to be had.’
    I risk a smile. Is it really that easy?
    ‘You have your business plan with you?’
    Oh, I’ve been a busy little bee in the last few days. There’s a track worn from my house to the central library and back. The computer I’ve been using there is probably still smoking. Olly has been a trouper – as always – and has kept Petal entertained while I’ve put together my business plan. How grand does that sound! Business plan, eh?
    The internet has been a godsend. What did we do before it? Sure enough, as Constance had predicted, I found that there were a million different sites all