Jenni Giles said damn just as she reached to open her car door and her phone rang. It was her old friend Tess Jordan, an estate agent calling to say she had two properties of possible appeal to Jenni to inspect and asked when they could meet.
"In fifteen minutes?"
"Oh goodness! Well okay; I have the developer's handout on one conversion so why don't we meet for coffee?"
The venue was arranged and Tess arrived just as Jenni was sitting at a table. Tess opened her attaché case to pull out a very impressive looking brochure and said the property offered everything and could appeal as the permanent location for Jenni's new magazine that was under pre-launch development.
They sat leaning over the publication and after a cursory appraisal began to probe for strengths and weaknesses. It was finally agreed by Jenni that it was premium space in just the right location; she thought the rate for space could be exorbitant.
It was.
"It's such a pity," Jennie sighed, "I would need to be a corporate principal spending shareholders' money to justify putting that amount of money into the pockets of the owner/developer. Perhaps we should now go at look at the property you really think will interest me."
The real estate agency saleswoman looked startled.
"It's all right Tess," Jenni smiled. "I've interviewed enough property folk over the years to have learned some of tactics used to 'process' a client. Actually in my case it's very good to know what's on offer at the top end so that I can better judge value further down the ladder."
Tess warned that they might have to look at perhaps scores of properties before they found the right one and Jenni felt a little disheartened at that remark. But as soon as she walked into the vacated fifth floor of a seven level office block her pulse rate picked up.
The previous tenant across the entire area had been an advertising agency. Although all the custom fixtures and fittings had gone, leaving the area an empty skeleton of three compartments subdividing the length of the fifth floor. Each compartment had badly marked perimeter walls where fittings and posters had been removed, obviously unsympathetically in some cases, but restoration would take little effort.
"This looks promising," she said, casually, flicking an imaginary piece of something from her shoulder.
"Really?" said her friend, lifting her sunglasses off and switching into salesperson mode. "I thought you would like it."
That's a porky, thought the client.
When they came up on the lift Tess said she had not had the opportunity to preview the premises.
There was a view of the River Thames over rooftops throughout the entire length of the area available for leasing. Jenni assumed that view would not always remain as it was now.
She looked at the two solid mid-section walls. Wide access openings had been cut through what had originally been constructed as fire-walls, and she noted her concern about that on her digital voice recorder to inquire about later.
The area looked perfect for her permanent offices. The building was fifteen years old but had been upgraded reasonably recently, probably at the request of the advertising agency that had tenanted the space for almost ten years. All of the windows had been replaced with better quality glazing to reduce outside noise, solar heat and glare.
All of the area had vents from the air-conditioning ducting that was concealed by a false ceiling and the permanent lighting was of high quality.
With satisfaction Jenni noted false flooring concealed ducting for cabling for electrical wiring, phones and high-tech devices such as computers. There were an enormous number of floor and wall power points.
Her inspection was over and she stood, looking out to the river.
Tess remained motionless, this time it was probably her pulse rate that was increasing. As Jenni turned to speak, Tess said, "There are two things I need to tell you."
"First the bad news: I am bound to advise you that you may lose some of this great view from adjacent property development and that could occur at any time. "
"And the good news?"
"Nine carparks in the basement go with the leasing of this entire floor, or on a pro-rata basis, and there is a public carpark building less than one hundred yards from here."
"I'm sorry about the possible or probable loss of view, but as the old story goes if you don't own the land you don't own the view beyond it."
"Tess I am interested. I want you to ask for a three-week option over the entire floor. I need to get a professional appraisal done to ensure I'm not in the process of leasing problems.
"How long is it since the advertising agency went?"
"Almost four months ago."
"What is the name of the previous tenant?"
"Moonglow Advertising. Is there a problem?"
Jenni recognised that name as she knew that principal well.
"I do have a concern and if it remains I'll discuss it with you before I send you in to bat on my behalf with the landlord. Who are you working in with?"
"Peter Upton a very experienced business broker and was recommended to me by my boss. This property is one of Peter's listings. I came up with the first one we looked at detailed on those brochures."
"Phone the landlord's rep now about the availability of a 3-week option Tess or ask Peter to do that. I'll see you in the foyer – I'll off to inspect the basement."
Just before leaving, Jenni stood in the centre of the floor available for leasing and almost closed her eye-lids until her eyes looked like slits. Then she allowed her mind to roam.
She saw the whole floor a riot of colour, workers in their cubicles working away at their keyboards, happily creating while others were subbing completed work and designing layouts.
Through the main walkway swept a number of visiting women, almost all dressed exotically and immaculately made up. They paraded bowing slightly amid burst of photographic flashlight and all paused briefly to see the latest addition to the trophy cabinet for excellence in journalism and publishing.
Then she glimpsed herself, quite a lot older, in a long white and silver full length gown with matching jacket and turban. She stood revolving on some sort of turntable holding a large cup with the people at her feet clapping and cheering. The camera apparently filming this gala event zoomed right in on the trophy naming
My Magazine
the UK Magazine of the Year.
Startled, Jenni shook her head to clear a kaleidoscope of thoughts. Goodness, she'd really allowed her thoughts to run wild. It was simply a vision, perhaps an unachievable climax to her professional career. But then one had to dream to have a challenging vision otherwise one would always come in second, or lower down the ladder.
Jenni smiled happily and headed for the lift. Her instinct had sensed that there was something not quite right about the basement carpark; she'd checked out the area and found nothing untoward, and headed for the foyer, for the moment quite satisfied.
At the ground floor entrance Jenni watched the approaching Tess with rising unease. Tess had been a top student at school, in fact her stiffest competitor for top honours. But at exam time Tess had tended to unravel a bit and on occasion even develop a rash under her chin.
For a moment Jenni couldn't remember the word to describe that trait appropriately, and then it came to her – flaky. In the final push, if her decision to acquire this floor in the Boswell Building flicked on the green light, she'd need to be darn sure that this Peter Upton was at her side in the final negotiations.
After she and Jess parted with a friendly kiss Jenni went to a neighbouring area that Rhoda had suggested would be a good location.
Walking around searching for vacancy signs on commercial premises she walked down to an area that looked mostly vacated as if the area was planned for redevelopment. She came to a small two-storey building where a man was screwing a notice to a door leading upstairs stating space to let.
Jennie greeted the guy
Without turning the man in a suit grunted something and continued his work.
"Is there much space to let?" she enquired politely.
This time the man turned, his belly leaning over his belt and his white and black peppered bushy moustache matching his hair. His dark eyes were bloodshot and there was a razor cut on his left cheek.
"Why would a woman want to know?" he retorted, though smiling.
Oh dear, thought Jenni, suspecting she was talking to family patriarch.
"I have been authorized to find temporary space for two months with the right to extend for another month at the same level of rental."
The man stood upright after carefully placing his screwdriver into his pocket. He looked at Jenni as if trying to read her mind.
"Better come up and inspect," he said, turning and heading up the stairs.
Jenni didn't quite jump for joy, as the area was a bit on the small side for her full team. They could squeeze in, she thought unconvincingly.
"It's good but unfortunately a bit too small."
