Free No Place in the Sun by John Mulligan Page B

the sales pitch. ‘If you would like to view a presentation in the conference room, we will send you on your way with a bottle of wine, it’s only ten minutes.....‘
    An older man emerged from the conference room. Tom looked him over; he exuded an air of confidence and seemed to be in charge. In his forties, Tom reckoned, about six foot tall, solidly built with a tight haircut, looked like he might have been a rugby player.
    The newcomer extended a hand to Tom; ‘I’m Alan, MD of Pueblo Alto Blanco Holiday Club, thank you for coming along today.’ His grip was strong and his smile seemed genuine, nothing like the two salesmen who were now descending on the bewildered looking couple in the lobby.
    Tom recognised a fellow salesman; this fellow had closed a few deals in his time. It was time to stop messing around and get out of here. ‘I’m not interested in your offer, or in this project, but my thanks to your colleague for showing it to me.’
    Alan’s smile never faltered, but he seemed to also recognise something in Tom that meant that this would be a wasted effort. ‘I’m sorry you don’t have time to view our presentation; I’ll have Kathy drop you back to Calahonda.’
    The young woman said little on the way back to the town. Tom tried to extract some information from her on the way but nothing much was forthcoming, she seemed to have clammed up completely and the friendly smile had disappeared. He wondered at the whole set-up, hard to see how anyone would buy what was on offer, maybe it was a credit card scam or something. He was glad to get back to his car and head for Puerto Banus.

    The Saxophone bar was packed with locals and holidaymakers, and the gang from the water park were lining up the glasses for one of their drinking games. They waved Tom to the table in the corner but he shook his head; he would just have one beer and head home, he wasn’t in the humour for a session. The holiday mood had left him and he wanted to get into a routine, to get a job of some kind so as to have something to get up for in the mornings. It was nearly five weeks since he had arrived in Spain and he was tired of the party; it was time to get real. From here on he would be in serious job-hunting mode, tomorrow morning he would do the rounds of all the job agencies and get something.
    ‘Una cervetha grande,’ he was getting used to the lingo, pronouncing the ‘s’ as a ‘th’, a kind of a lisp. The problem was, it never seemed to come out the same way as if a Spanish person said it. The barmaid smiled at him, he wasn’t sure if she was being friendly or if she was amused at his pronunciation. He took a swallow from the beer and waited for his change.
    ‘Grassy arse.’ Hard to tell if that was a real Spanish accent or if she was taking the piss. He turned away from the bar and bumped into the big Englishman.
    ‘Hello mate.’ The big fellow didn’t quite recognise him, maybe thought he had seen him somewhere, but couldn’t put a name on him.
    Tom was still curious about the setup in Pueblo Alto Blanco; he wanted to find out more about it, and down here in the port he was on home ground and could ask questions in safety.
    ‘We met at your office a couple of weeks ago. Your young lady Kathy brought me up to look at your project.’
    ‘Oh Kathy, nice girl, not with us any more unfortunately. I remember you now; you weren’t interested. It happens sometimes; not for everybody and all that.’
    ‘I’m still not sure what you are selling.’ Tom tried to keep it friendly. ‘I would say one thing though, I’m a salesman myself, all my life really, and the guys you have up there wouldn’t recognise an opening if they fell through it. Wouldn’t have made it anywhere I ever worked anyway.’
    Alan stood back and looked Tom up and down. ‘Let me guess, cars mostly I’d say, maybe insurance now and again?’
    Tom laughed. ‘More or less on the button. Cars, electrical goods, a while selling mortgages, that sort