Give Me an Entire Street
Tennessee relayed my words exactly as I had given them.
The man on the other end seemed to raise an objection.
"You really think Americans will buy cloth this expensive?"
Must be nice, having the leisure to worry about a thing like that.
America is a kingdom of consumption, plain and simple. If they haven't got the money, they'll borrow it and spend anyway, and if there's nowhere left to borrow, they'll empty the shop. America... well. Anyway. When it comes to purchasing power alone, they sit at the top of the world.
The real question was whether any house over there was luxurious enough to handle vicuña at all.
"Tell him that if he wants, we'll introduce him to an American luxury brand."
"American luxury. You mean..."
Ralph Warren, obviously.
Perhaps he read it in my eyes. Tennessee shifted his grip on the receiver.
The call did not last long. Yield once to a threat, and all that waits afterward is a string of even more unreasonable demands. That was why the ranch owner had changed his mind. In the end they agreed he would turn over the entire inventory, and Paver had even taken the seal on the contract.
Clean.
Trust in my distribution network must have played its part, but the heir of the House of Grosvenor placing the call himself had surely done just as much. From the introduction all the way to a guarantee, if you could call it that, Tennessee had practically done the work of ten men.
I slid him a look warmed with affection.
"What are you staring at?"
He answered in that prickly way of his.
"Tch. Dragging a person here and there since morning."
"Should I have come to your room instead?"
He didn't say no, but his face made it perfectly clear the idea did not appeal. Fair enough. If I went over there, he would have to cram every last thing back into the wardrobe, and the mere thought of it must have been a nuisance.
The reaction lasted only a moment. His expression changed, and he asked, "Anyway. How long are you planning to put this off?"
"Put what off?"
"Handing over equity is a partnership too. You said we should build the friendship first. What, do we have to be stuck together for ten years?"
Ah. That.
It isn't as if I'd be taking it for free.
I meant to buy it, and to pay properly. On top of that he had agreed to do the rugby with me and had even connected me to the vicuña ranch. For a friendship of that order... well.
"Fine. How much do you want?"
The answer must have caught him off guard. Tennessee's eyes narrowed, unsteady.
"How much of it can you sell?"
"That depends on what you put on the table."
"Didn't you say you don't need money?"
I nodded.
"Still the same?"
At that, I nodded once more.
At that same hour, Lukashi was making the rounds of estate agents, and had been since morning.
"I'd like to look at a shop."
"In a hurry, are you? Through the door the moment we opened. Sit yourself down. Coffee? No, tea will do better. Give me a moment."
When the kettle on the stove began to throw off steam, the proprietor brought over a teabag. Only after the fragrance of black tea had filled the mug did he go on.
"It'll be a clean cup."
"It's good."
"Where shall I look for you?"
"The best location you've got."
"Well, well. A man of means, by the look of you."
Lukashi managed an awkward smile.
"And how large were you thinking?"
"As large as it comes."
"Well, well. A man of means indeed. Prime pitch, and a big shop besides..."
"Piccadilly Arcade would be even better."
"Piccadilly? That's a battlefield of luxury fashion."
"..."
"You wouldn't happen to be in the trade?"
"Something like that."
The words were barely out before the proprietor scratched his cheek. Then he fetched an old notebook and began to hunt through it.
"And where might your present premises be?"
"Why do you ask?"
When Lukashi dodged the question, the man lowered his magnifying glass beneath his nose and studied him steadily.
"You wouldn't be come from Savile Row, would you?"
"I said I want to see a shop. Am I meant to bring my business registration as well?"
At that the proprietor closed the notebook.
"So there was a reason you came charging in at the crack of dawn."
"What I need is a shop."
The last time talk of an investment had come up, I had told Tennessee there was something I needed more than money. Perhaps that was why. The moment the words left my mouth, he drew a twice-folded sheet from his shirt pocket: a map of London, a little smaller than a notebook.
Well, now. He had even procured a map. He had come prepared, no question about it.
"Look."
Amusingly, red circles had been drawn all over it.
"See the ones marked in red? Every one of those belongs to my family."
Every patch of London worth any real money had a circle on it.
"Pick."
"If I pick one, can you actually hand it over?"
"A transfer isn't easy. The procedure's fussy. A lease, though, that I can do. And without any special charge."
The Duke's permission would have to come down, of course. Tennessee shot me a confident look, as if that much were no problem at all.
"I've no intention of throwing out a perfectly good tenant and moving in."
"Oh, my. Philanthropy as well?"
"Even if the lease has run out, see that they're paid a generous premium."
"Stop fretting and pick. I'm not a stingy man."
I let out a short breath of a laugh.
"Then this one's all right?"
Oxford Circus. In Seoul terms, a place like Cheongdam-dong.
"Is that enough for you?"
I nodded.
"Tch. You could have said so sooner."
Oh? Then why not move the conversation along?
"We set the appraised value of the equity against the term of the lease, check a suitable amount each year, and transfer it that way. Agreed?"
Perhaps because the talk had turned suddenly technical, Tennessee's face went blank for a moment. It didn't last. He came back wearing the sharp look peculiar to aristocrats.
"Agreed, and gladly."
"And when can the lease start?"
"Don't worry. I'll have it settled today."
After Tennessee left, the map he had set down remained on the desk. It was not the sort of map an estate office used, and smaller than a sheet of paper besides, so I could not pin the actual building down from where I sat.
And yet. What was he trusting, walking out that sure of himself? Strictly speaking, we had not even written a contract.
Not that I stand to lose anything.
Settled within the day, he said. I quietly scratched the back of my head.
That night, Tennessee cut an outing pass and headed home. He could have gone at the weekend, but then he might have had to stay the night.
"What brings you, young master?"
At the tutor's question, Tennessee offered a faint smile.
"There's something I need to say to my father."
"Might this concern your decision to stand for president of the student council?"
Oh. He had forgotten about that. Still, it would do no harm to let them think that was why he had come.
"You knew."
"I have ears as well."
"..."
"His Grace was delighted. He said that since you entered the Royal School you have grown wonderfully quiet, and he was pleased. I received a share of the praise myself, on your account."
"If I go back, you'll be praised again, won't you?"
"Ho. Now I am curious."
A short while later, Tennessee and the tutor made their way together to the reception room. Facing his father, he bowed first. Just as the tutor had said, the Duke looked to be in quite a good mood.
Tennessee gathered his courage and opened his mouth. He did not have the courage to meet the man's eyes, though, and so he kept his gaze somewhere around the Duke's belt.
"I wish to try my hand at business."
"Business?"
"I wish to try the clothing business."
The Duke seemed already to have an idea. He opened his mouth, lightly.
"Would this have anything to do with that invitation from the Harris family?"
Everyone was leaping to conclusions today, and each guess came with a rather plausible reason attached.
"It is not solely for that reason. It is true, however, that the invitation gave me courage."
Tennessee pressed on while he had the momentum.
"They set up a whole enterprise with no more discernment than that. Why should I be unable to do the same? In a way, it put me at ease."
At that, the tutor slipped in, making a show of restraining him.
"Mind your dignity. These are people who sent the invitation in their own hand, in deference to His Grace's renown. It would be better to watch your words."
Tennessee nodded.
"Well, then. What is it you want of me, and how much?"
At the Duke's question, Tennessee took one step forward.
For a child, this was the level of learning to walk. And here he was, asking for a sports car. Who would allow it? Refusal was the natural picture.
But Tennessee had not come empty-handed.
"This is no venture only just beginning."
"What?"
"I have prepared thoroughly, and I have already achieved a measure of success."
"A measure of success, you say?"
At his son's words, the Duke straightened in his seat, as if the outcome might turn on the answer.
"Have you heard of a brand called Ultimate?"
"I have. Of course I have. But what has that to do with the young master..."
The tutor had answered in the Duke's place. A heartbeat later, his eyes went perfectly round.
"Surely not. The young master?"
When the tutor produced a reaction no one had seen from him before, a strange light came into the Duke's eyes as well.
Tennessee himself was not entirely at ease saying it. He had hesitated more than once. Still, without a result of this order, permission would never fall, and so he forced himself on.
"Ultimate is a brand I launched together with a classmate."
"...!"
"Among my year there was a friend with a head for business. So I supplied the ideas, and he handled the practical work."
"Then the collaboration with John Green was also the young master's..."
"Of course. Without my help, what great thing could a pack of outsiders possibly attempt?"
None of it was what he felt. But this, precisely, was the picture the house most wanted to see. Sure enough, the tutor shrugged as though the whole achievement were his own. He soon pressed down his excitement and asked, "Then the method of making only a small quantity, and forming a queue... that marketing as well?"
"I told you. The ideas were all mine. My classmate handled only the work."
At that point the Duke, who had been silent, stepped in.
"Why did you keep this business a secret even from your father?"
"Because I did not wish to receive help from the very start."
"Then why do you wish to receive it now?"
"Because I have inherited the name of Grosvenor. Once I have begun a thing, I cannot rest until it reaches the very summit."
But one last problem remained. They had meant to clear every shop on that street and raise a building in their place. Perhaps that was why the Duke asked, outright, whether he would rather simply take the building.
Tennessee answered with care.
"Rather than a building without character, I would like to make a street steeped in refined taste."
"Truly... are you confident?"
"Of course."
At Tennessee's words, the Duke curled the corner of his mouth high.
As they were leaving the reception room, the tutor quietly fell in beside him.
"Shall I have a meal prepared?"
"Do you know what time it is? I've already eaten."
"And what did you have?"
"Well..."
When he answered vaguely, the tutor launched into a full oration. For a noble, a meal was training as well. Every matter of importance was conducted at the table. A formal course accompanied by wine, observed under strict etiquette, day after day...
Stories he had heard until calluses formed on his ears. But raising an objection would only drag the conversation out.
"I will bear it in mind."
Tennessee only nodded, quietly.