I'll Take the Cruise
In the end, what it took to buy Manchester United was money.
He wasn't putting up a penny of the funds, so what help, exactly, was he proposing to offer?
The mayor hurried on.
"Negotiation is a long, grinding business by nature, isn't it? We can take that part on for you."
Hmm.
"If you might tell me the figure you have in mind..."
Buying the ground and every piece of real estate the club owned would take three hundred million pounds at the least. That much was true. Still, the pleasure was in knocking the price down, so I cheerfully named a figure a clean ten percent cheaper.
The mayor who had talked so grandly answered by letting out a heavy silence.
"If you can't manage it, I'll do it myself."
"Ah—can't? Who said anything about can't? Losing heart before I've even tried... I am not so frivolous a man."
Then one more!
"Five years. Interest-free, if you please."
"Pardon?"
"Nobody hands over a sum like that in a single payment."
"Installments, that much I can see. But the part after that..."
"Interest-free?"
"Yes. That point is..."
"If you can't manage it, I'll do it myself."
"No! I'll see it done. Yes. Of course I will."
That covered the acquisition. There were policy matters, too, that the mayor would have to settle himself.
"Please establish an international school."
"...?"
"Students who come abroad to study football need a school, if they're not to let go of their studies."
They might dream of turning professional, but in the end they were students. Fly to a far country, stake everything on football, and fail at the last—who on earth could answer for that life? A decent society ought to lay down at least a minimum of protection.
"There's a law that needs enacting, as well."
"A law?"
For a Korean player to join the Manchester United youth academy, a parent had to come along and secure a stable job before a visa would be granted. In other words, a parent had to stake a whole life on the child. Wouldn't that fact alone lay an enormous burden on the boy or girl?
"If the club assigns dedicated staff and looks after them thoroughly, you permit the visas on that condition."
"Fortunately, both of those lie within my discretion. They do, and yet..."
"...?"
"How on earth do you come to concern yourself with even that?"
Well. Because I'd taken an interest, in my previous life... ahem.
At any rate, everything up to now had been the stick. It was time, at last, to offer a carrot.
"If every condition is met, I'll be glad to move as well."
All three were perfectly achievable.
"Th-three of them?"
"Rather bold, isn't it?"
"It's enough to set my whole body tingling."
"Once the talks with Manchester United are finished, call me again. I'll prepare the next steps on my side."
And two days later—
The Manchester United story took the front page of the London Times.
Michael "Bear" Grills, a member of the British House of Lords, was at luncheon with the press.
"Senior."
When a political correspondent addressed a member as Senior, it was a kind of signal.
Off the record.
We won't print this, so tell us what you really think.
"If you've already served as floor leader of the largest party, surely all that remains is prime minister?"
Michael met the question with a smile instead of an answer.
"Whether one goes straight to the premiership, or by way of the London mayoralty—in the end that is the only difference. Might you speak to your course from here?"
"I would rather ask you for advice."
"...?"
"As you see it, what ought I to do?"
At Michael's question the other reporters burst out laughing. Once the air had loosened, he went on in high spirits.
"People do say it. I am not a product of the Royal School and Oxford, and so, in the end, I am not of the mainstream."
For an outsider, floor leader was the ceiling. If he wanted higher, he would have to contest the London mayoralty and produce results one could see. Only then, with the public at his back, could he challenge for prime minister.
"It will not be easy, of course."
"There is someone walking that road these days, is there not?"
"...?"
"Charles Emerson. The mayor of Manchester."
"Ah, yes. The mood around him has been rather good."
"From the theme park all the way to moving Mad Bull's headquarters. The verdict is that he has achieved dazzling results."
"I was surprised myself. Only a fortnight ago he was being denounced on every side. He turned the whole atmosphere with a single stroke."
"Which is why I ask."
"...?"
"There's grumbling that he shoveled favors onto companies for the sake of his own advancement. As floor leader of the other party, how do you regard it?"
At the reporter's question, Michael straightened in his seat.
"Look to the citizens' reaction, and the answer presents itself. If the very same ventures were carried out in Liverpool, what response do you imagine? To my mind they would throw up both hands and welcome them."
"Then you see it not as a special favor, but as a legitimate effort to attract business?"
"Of course."
Michael did not stop there.
"Had I been mayor of London, I would have pursued a project greater still."
"Mayor... of London?"
He had said, quite clearly, that this was off the record. Even so, the reporters' hands began to move in a hurry.
"I would not have stopped at begging them to move a place of business. I would sooner have gathered the subsidies that leak away in a trickle, and undertaken a proper venture with JH."
"Senior, I hope you'll forgive the liberty."
"...?"
"At this point, one might as well call it a declaration that you're running for mayor of London."
Michael neither confirmed it nor denied it.
Instead—
"I'll arrange a separate occasion, in due course."
With that, he simply rose, quiet.
That night, at Henri Vuitton's invitation, I set out for Nice, the resort city on the French coast. A private jet and then a helicopter kept the journey from running long.
The first thing I felt, stepping off the helicopter, was the pleasant smell of the sea. Ha! A château with the whole Mediterranean laid out beneath it in a single view.
I was smiling when a familiar voice came over.
"Thank you for coming all this way."
"Why come out? You could have waited inside."
"Of course I had to come and meet you."
He asked whether we were still before dinner, and I was happy to nod.
"Excellent. Please, come in. I'll treat you to a proper French dinner."
I'd felt it the last time as well. Henri Vuitton was unmistakably a man of breeding—the gentle speech, the elegant gestures. You could see the good education on him. When I was older, I hoped I would look exactly like that.
I was walking along, smiling at the thought, when he spoke again.
"First, let me introduce the man who will answer for dinner. Chef Paul Beuc, who keeps a three-star restaurant in Lyon."
Paul Beuc answered him.
"I will prepare an evening you will never forget."
Wow. The confidence on this man.
I inclined my head with a smile.
"Thank you."
"If you have any allergies, or anything you particularly avoid..."
"I'll eat anything except alcohol."
"Ah..."
The chef looked unbearably disappointed. Henri Vuitton slipped gently in.
"His first drink is reserved for his grandfather."
"You remembered?"
"Of course. I remember everything that concerns you, Chairman."
I grinned. We were bound for an outdoor terrace.
"What you see over there is Monaco."
"I've heard it's that beautiful."
"Of course. There is no better place for a holiday than Monaco. Next time you must come with your grandfather."
"I really should."
"Only say the word in advance, and I will prepare everything myself, from the château to the yacht."
The full Monaco course, then.
The table was already laid. Everything was silver, and it looked a hundred years old at the least. Age had settled into it, which only made it handsomer. He seemed to have read the interest in my eyes.
"From the cutlery to the dishes, the trays, even the candlesticks—all of it was used at the Palace of Versailles."
"Ah."
"Most of it was made in the reign of Louis XVI."
In plain terms, the late eighteenth century.
"Every piece is special, then?"
"A precious guest has come."
Henri Vuitton said that these days every day felt new. In keeping with the slogan of bringing luxury to the masses, he was attempting all sorts of challenges.
"Thanks to that, I feel as if I've grown ten years younger."
"Make it twenty."
"Even my conscience..."
We were laughing pleasantly when the first course arrived.
"The finest oysters, caught only off Nice."
In Korea oysters run cheap, but in France they pass for quite a luxury ingredient—probably because the size is so fine.
"Squeeze the lemon, then lift them with a spoon."
Mm. You want me to eat this without a drink?
The torture went on after that. True to a city of the sea, excellent seafood arrived in a procession—sole, shrimp, lobster—without wine. Heh. Henri Vuitton, by contrast, changed the wine faithfully with every course. Watching him, I had to admit there was no torturer more accomplished.
Anyway.
"You're on break, you said?"
"Yes."
"Do you have plans?"
"Actually, that's exactly what I've been fretting over."
"...?"
I needed to rest. Maybe because I had done nothing but work, I had forgotten how.
Henri Vuitton laughed softly.
"At times like that, why not spend a little money?"
"On what?"
"People usually buy a winery. I myself have had an eye on Château d'Yquem in Sauternes."
Château d'Yquem was one of the most renowned wineries in the world. In the end, around 1995, it would pass into the hands of the Luy Vuitton group. Probably.
"Hmm. You don't seem terribly interested in a winery."
"It would be nice to have one, but..."
"There is no immediate use in it, true."
Henri Vuitton nodded, then went on.
"Then what about a yacht? Out in the middle of the Mediterranean, the music turned up loud, the sun pouring down..."
"It's on my bucket list, actually."
A mojito with Jo Sudeok, up on a yacht. Ha—ah!
"Shall I introduce you to a broker? In Monaco alone there must be dozens who deal in yachts."
"How much does a yacht usually run?"
"It depends on the size, but roughly..."
The thought that followed the price:
"For that money... if I added a little more... wouldn't it make more sense to buy a cruise ship?"
"That... would not be a little more."
"Even so, if I'm buying, it ought to be something proper."
A yacht, to put it bluntly, was nothing more than sunbathing on a boat. A cruise, by contrast, carried restaurants, a theater, cabins—even a water park—inside the ship.
Surely the real value for money was a cruise?
I scratched at my head.
"If you happen to know someone, I wonder if you might introduce me..."
"Ah. Well. Once you reach the scale of a cruise ship, there are no private dealers at all. Only a defense contractor can truly build one, so of course the dealing is company to company..."
"About how much would it come to?"
"Are you... truly going to buy one?"
I had poured an entire semester into finishing a project. So—naturally—there had to be a gift for me.
Right then.
"You know Manchester United, the club you've just acquired?"
"Yes."
"You'll have to spend nearly that much."
Mm. Manchester United money?
That's quite a price.
But I had a card of my own as well.
Go on. Be as expensive as you like.
"Given a price like that..."
"...?"