Fiction: George and the Philanthropath – Part III. THE FALL (The Bond is Sealed)

This continues from Part II

ACT 5: The Gilded Contract

“In which a golden key is offered to unlock all doors, and our hero is sorely tempted.”

I left the Zoom meeting in a daze, still wondering at how my boat seemed to have well and truly come in. This was the best opportunity to make it big that I had in my whole life been presented with. But obviously such a big deal needed to be discussed with Claire, who was on shift at the hospital.

She arrived home late and dropped into bed, so I had to hold the news for the morning. By now, Claire was a big Corvina fan. Totally beguiled. Her reaction was hugely enthusiastic, especially when I mentioned the income stream such a deal would surely support and the opportunities for overseas travel. She started talking of London and Paris and Rome, “I can take leave from work. I’ve always wanted to travel more.” Having the kids, then losing James suddenly evaporated those dreams of ours And later, she thought out loud: “We could sell the house and get a bigger place closer to mum. There’s that higher rating school zone, you know the one?”

I started driving around looking at commercial properties that would suit as a base of operations. Something in a small professional park, a modern new development with electricians, plumbers and print shops. I knew next to nothing about video production, but one of my ex-work mates’ brother had been working in the field for over 10 years. I managed to set up a drink with Paul at a local bar to find out more about what we might require and how the professionals do it. After telling him my plans he seemed very keen on the idea, “I’ve been getting bored and need a new challenge. If you’re looking for a tech to handle the video side, I’d certainly be very interested if you’ll have me.”

Meanwhile, Claire was busy looking up freedom conferences and events six months ahead, “There’s one in Palm Springs in a couple of months and after that one in Hawaii, we could do both in one swing through.” This was a bit alarming given the increasingly strict visa requirements for the US with the authorities checking social media accounts of applicants and even after getting a visa often blocking entry on arrival if the immigration agent didn’t like the look of you. But I was sure Europe, the Middle East and Asia would be fine. Anyway, as I said, other leaders of the freedom movement seemed to find such things no barrier and why should it be any different for me?

Meanwhile, Paul was sending me materials about setting up a video studio, lighting, greenscreens, cameras, professional sound proofing, computers and monitors for editing and managing and inserting clips, with screen-in-screen hosting for remote interviewees who could be anywhere in the world. It was all very exciting and his enthusiasm was infectious.

After talking it over with Claire, it seemed too good an opportunity to pass up. So, I sent Corvina a messaged saying, “You’re on. We’ll do it. What’s next?”

The next morning when I opened my email box, there was a message from Corvina with an attached contract. Her message expressed her delight that we were going to take the offer on and expressed her confidence in me to make this work. I printed the contract out and showed it to Claire; neither of us had much experience with this sort of thing apart from the mortgage on the house, which were pretty standard documents and anyway the conveyancing lawyers always dealt with that sort of thing—it’s not like you’re going to negotiate mortgage terms with the bank is it?

The trap is sprung.

ACT 6: The Illusion of Security

“In which the bargain is struck, and our hero, in his triumph, believes he has won the world.”

We contacted the lawyer who had handled our last house purchase, only to discover that, being a conveyancing specialist, this sort of contract law was out of her field. She referred us to someone higher up in the law firm, and we rang him to set up an appointment. We were surprised to find he charged a retainer just to speak to us, and this was not on the small side. Anyways, he couldn’t see us for 6 weeks. When I mentioned this to Corvina, she said, “Oh, don’t worry about that, I have a friend who knows a fantastic lawyer who should be able to help for much less. I’ll ask her for his details if you like.”

Not being located near us, we had to speak to the lawyer—who turned out to be a Sam Jarvis LLB—over a Zoom call. As instructed, we sent him the contract we had received from Corvina and gave him a week to look it over and get back to us. He seemed very knowledgeable and extremely thorough, he had picked up a list of changes to the contract, mostly wording alterations and even suggested a change of legal jurisdiction from the UK to our own country to make things easier “if ever there were to be a problem.” We went over the changes in another Zoom call, and I sent the redlined contract back to Corvina whose lawyer then sent me a copy to sign electronically, which I promptly did. Sam helped us set up a new company to hold the assets and to secure the loan, Corvina took a 51% holding. We were quite pleased that all this legal stuff only took a couple of weeks to sort out and get everything registered and a bank account set up for the new company. The money arrived a couple of days after that.

That was when the real fun started. We found the ideal location for the studio and office in on of the commercial parks I had scoped out early on, signed the lease and signed a deal with a commercial out-fitter. Meanwhile, we set Paul up with an employment contract and he started working with the outfitter to ensure the studio was set up properly and on sourcing the computer, sound and camera equipment he would need. I transferred ownership of the weblog I had been running to the new company, including copyright ownership of the articles and all that. Hey, I was Managing Director and CEO, right?

It was exhilarating to be finally for the first time in my life in charge of my own business, an employer even. We hired Kate, who was a 25 year old daughter of one of Claire’s friends to be the admin person and she took over commenting and moderation of the existing weblog and set up our social media accounts, while also handling the day-to-day paper work. A couple of months of long days followed along with nervous watching the bank balance shrink while building work and boxes of equipment flooded in. New desks for each of us and office furniture were the last things to be installed. Once the outfitters and electricians had done their bit, Paul took charge of installing all of the video, sound and computer equipment. Wires everywhere and the costs of connecting everything seemed never-ending.

The studio’s opening day was a highlight that capped the whole process. We gathered in front of the new studio to take the mandatory social media photos, and opened a bottle of Champagne. That night the whole crew went out to dinner at a Michelin-starred restaurant and after cocktails had been brought to the table (and another Champagne bottle), glasses were filled and I stood to thank all involved. It felt like I was on top of the world as I finished the speech saying, “Again, many thanks to you all, the studio and business are a crowning achievement. It’s what we deserve.”

The die is cast.

The contract is signed. The dream is real. What happens when the dream becomes a nightmare? The reckoning begins in Part IV.