The Gift of Magic Pt. 02

Hans looked at Sophie. She was staring back at Hans, waiting for his reply. "The Hans Nees mentioned is my father, as you could tell from the date of the document." he said.

"Yes Mr. Nees, I know that. But you haven't answered my question." The kid will become a lawyer, thought Hans, and serve her right.

"Chemical trespass is an emotive term used by some people when crop spray drifts onto someone else's land," Hans explained to Lucy. "It appears my father was careless one day and allowed his contractors to spray when the wind was blowing in the wrong direction. As it says further on, the case did not go to court, and was settled amicably. That means in a friendly fashion."

"Thank you Mr Nees. I know what 'amicably' means. Thank you for explaining about chemical trespass. Why is it such a bad thing? Are the sprays you use unsafe?"

Hans looked at Lucy now with active dislike, quickly hiding his feelings with a smile. Hans felt Sophie staring at him as well, waiting for his answer, so he knew he had to be very careful in his reply. His normal terse response that sprays were perfectly safe, and necessary to feed a growing world population would not go down well.

"Sprays can be harmful if they are misused. Which is why the manufacturers and farmers are very responsible in making sure they are used properly. My family have always used sprays in a safe manner, but as I said my father did get careless one day and he paid for his mistake. You see the reason the neighbour was upset was not because the spray was unsafe but because he would lose money."

"Why would he lose money, Mr Nees?" Lucy's questions were like those annoying mosquitoes that went on buzzing in your ear when you were trying to get to sleep.

"Because the neighbour gets more money for his crops if they're not sprayed." Hans bent down and started his meal, hoping Lucy would take the hint.

She didn't. "Why do they get more money for unsprayed crops?"

"Because people think they are healthier." Hans hoped his exasperation didn't show.

"And are they?"

"No of course not"

"Then why do people pay more for them? Is it because they're stupid?"

Yes, Hans wanted to yell. They are incredibly stupid. They're a bunch of hippy whiners who hate technology, like your teacher's family and that daft old woman you seem to like so much. "It's very complex," he said to Lucy instead. You will understand when you are older."

Lucy nodded. She knew that grown-ups used this explanation when they didn't know the answer but didn't want to admit it. Usually she would be kind to them and not press the point. But this was too important. "Thank you Mr Nees," she said, and got back to her meal.

If Hans thought Lucy would leave him alone now he was to be disappointed. While the grown-ups were relaxing over coffee in the lounge and Lucy was playing with her phone, she looked up and stared at Hans again. "Mr Nees," she said, quite loudly, "What's insider trading?"

Hans Nees spluttered and spilt his coffee. Sophie ran into the kitchen for a cloth. Hans hoped desperately that in the ensuing chaos Lucy might forget her question. But no such luck. She still stared at him with those wide eyes that he was starting to hate, and Hans felt himself bluster. "I don't know what insider trading is Lucy. It's something to do with the stock market and I don't deal in stocks and shares."

"Oh, that's a pity," said Lucy. "I thought you might. Because there's something here about insider trading with your name in it." Lucy read aloud from the screen.

"'Mr Hans Nees was investigated by the securities commission for allegations of insider trading following an alleged tip by stockbroker Frederick Salander. The commission determined that there was insufficient evidence to prosecute.' Is that your father again? Oh, no, it can't be, the date is too recent. It was last year."

"There was some sort of scandal I remember now. Because Fred is one of my drinking mates and he had been involved in something shady, everyone he knew was under suspicion. But as you read yourself, no evidence of wrongdoing could be found." Hans hoped that Lucy would be too young to understand the legal principle that absence of evidence was not the same as evidence of absence.

"I've found lots of interesting things about you, Mr Nees." went on Lucy. "Something else about a bank manager called George who you know quite well." I don't understand all the technical terms though. Something called 'embezzling'. Sounds like a drunk bee." Lucy laughed, then stared unblinkingly at Hans.

Hans lost his temper. "I don't know why I gave you that phone if all you can do with it is try to dredge up dirt about me. Give it back to me immediately!"

Sophie stood up, ready to intervene, guessing that any threat to Lucy's new toy would mean a lot of unpleasantness and shouting. Her mouth fell open in surprise when Lucy instead calmly handed the phone over to Hans.

"Certainly Mr Nees," she said. "Here you are."

Hans took the phone, and then he remembered what the derfen had told him. Taking the phone would interfere with his enchantments, and therefore his chances with Sophie. Not only that, but Lucy would regain her influence. But Lucy could not possibly know this... could she?

"I'm sorry Lucy." he said. "I was angry. Of course I don't want to take your phone from you. Here, take it back." Hans got up and offered the phone back to Lucy.

Lucy jumped up and put her hands behind her back. Hans made to stuff it in her pocket but Lucy took a step backwards. "I don't want it. You can't make me take it. It's yours. I gave it to you, and you took it."

When Lucy said this, Hans knew he had lost, even before Sophie had said to him quietly, "I think you should leave now, Hans." Somehow Lucy had got hold of a mentor in magic like his own derfen. Hans remembered the old woman in the house she had visited, the haunted house, and then he remembered the shadowy ghost-like figure he had seen and the derfen's comment, 'I only know of two people alive who can still cast spells.' Hans understood, though he vaguely wondered who the second one might be. Lucy and her adviser had won. His courtship was over.

Hans drove to the pub. As was his custom he parked a few blocks away, and noticed his drinking mates had started already. Hans wondered why they were not greeting him as enthusiastically as they usually did. Then he realised that he had the Smartphone in his pocket, and this would have affected his magical charm ability. George the banker had looked up, stared at Hans and then gone back to his conversation. The implication was obvious. Hans could join them if he wanted, but they did not care either way.

Hans thought of just ditching the phone and joining his mates, when they would address him with their usual bonhomie. But then he wondered whether it was really worth spending time and effort ingratiating those who he did not really care for, and who obviously did not care for him when he had no magic to back up his natural personality.

Hilda the barmaid smiled at him. This time Hans did not look away but smiled back.

"I'm off duty in a minute," said Hilda. "Fancy a drink?"

Hans was caught in two minds. In his present state a friendly face would be very comforting, but his drinking mates may look down on him. "Thank you Hilda," he said. "I'll have a beer."

"No you won't," said Hilda. "You don't need to impress me with your drinking prowess. I'm not paying for good beer to be poured into the pot plants. I'll get you a soft drink instead"

Hans blushed. "How did you know?" he stammered as Hilda poured the drinks. A lemon squash for him and a white wine for her.

"Just 'cos I got a working class accent, don't mean I'm stupid, you know," said Hilda. "I got a degree in business studies from the university. I'm doing some market research on the hospitality industry, and was thinking of buying my own bar once I've raised some capital. Oh don't worry," she continued as Hans looked glum, "I haven't told no-one. And I'm sure none of those sots... sorry, loyal and dedicated customers, have noticed anything."

Hans laughed in spite of his embarrassment. The two wondered over to the far side of the pub as Hilda's replacement arrived, to be immediately called away for more drinks by George. Hans and Hilda sat down and started to talk about Hilda's aspirations to rise above her background and move out to the country. Hans noticed some scornful glances from George and the others as Hilda's strident accent wafted through the pub, but he ignored them.

"I love it in this village," said Hilda, "It's so peaceful." Hans in turn told her of his family farm, and the struggles he had keeping it afloat.

"Oh, neat" said Hilda. "I would love to visit your farm."

"Why not now?" Hans found himself saying. The two of them made their way out of the pub and Hans was driving along the country road that led to the Nees farmhouse with Hilda in the passenger seat. Hans noticed that none of his drinking mates had even looked up when they had left.

Hans showed Hilda around his fields, woods and streams until it got dark, and then the two of them went inside the farmhouse, where Hans made some supper and they started talking. Hans felt a twinge of shame when he realised that this barmaid, who he had looked down on, was very interesting company, and he was having a good time with her.

"Have you thought of going organic like your neighbours?" asked Hilda. "It's a high initial outlay, but the returns are worth it. Organic farming is a growing industry round here now that people are getting more educated and concerned about their health."

"That would be very expensive. Where would I get the money from?"

"If you want a short term return on investment and a means of raising the capital, how about converting those outhouses you're not using into holiday accommodation? You've got a pleasant quiet spot here, but you're still fairly close to the city on a good train route and you'd have no difficulty getting city people to come along to a peaceful farm-style holiday."

"Even that would cost quite a bit, and I can't raise any more on the farm. This place is not just mortgaged to the hilt, the entire sword is buried."

"Would you think it rude if I asked to see your mortgage documents?" said Hilda.

"Not at all." Hans went over to a filing cabinet and laid a series of folders in front of Hilda. Hilda studied these for about half an hour. Hans washed up the supper gear then sat in front of her, waiting.

Finally Hilda spoke. "You're paying way over market rate for a mortgage," she said. "I can give you the name of a broker who'd be able to shave at least one percent off that rate."

"But George at the bank told me that was the best rate he could get me. Told me it was mate's rates."

"I see," said Hilda. "And you believed him, no doubt."

Hans was silent. Of course he knew George was a crook. Had proof of his crookedness in fact. But he and George had gone way back, and he had been naive enough to trust that he wouldn't shaft a mate.

"Something else," said Hilda. "You're under-capitalised."

"What do you mean by that?"

"I mean that city people are prepared to pay good money for property in the country within an easy commute. Property prices in this area have risen sharply and you could raise a lot more on this property than you have."

Hans stared at Hilda. "But Eric from the real estate company told me I would be lucky to meet the mortgage debt. He told me he had a buyer who would be prepared to pay more than the place was worth if I wanted to sell, but I would still only just stave off bankruptcy."

"Yes I see," said Hilda. "You really are remarkably naive when it comes to choosing your friends. If you'd done a little bit of research you'd have realised you could quite easily sell this farm and pay off your mortgage with enough to spare to buy yourself a small house in the village. But I would advise you not to. My advice to you would be firstly to refinance your mortgage repayments at a lower rate. Then you need to get a proper registered valuation on all your assets, put forward a business plan for your holiday accommodation idea and borrow more on the strength of it. Your repayments would be the same as now, but you would have some capital you could use to convert your outhouses. Once your accommodation business is up and running then you can leverage it as collateral to borrow the extra capital required for your conversion to organics."

Hans stared intently at Hilda. "I was a total fool to believe those drunken so-called mates of mine. But why are you helping me?"

Hilda laughed. "It's 'cos I fancy you, Hans. Working in a pub has given me a very jaundiced view of the average male. Most of them are hopeless drunks. You're the only one of my customers who doesn't drink. You're actually quite skilful at disposing of your beer in the pot plant. I didn't notice you doing it until I started watching you more intently, but I have to tell you your acting skills are pathetic. Nobody who's not totally paralytic drunk themselves would mistake your jerky dance routine for the way a real drunk would stagger out of a pub."

Hans blushed. Hilda was certainly a smart woman, that's for sure. Far harder to hoodwink than his drinking mates.

"The experience of working in a pub has caused me to rethink my original plan to buy one," she continued. "I could go into partnership with you instead. I provide the business brains, and you provide the capital."

"You know I've been chasing after Sophie the artist, don't you?" said Hans.

"Sophie's a nice girl, but she's too unworldly and not for you. You're a practical man, and you need a practical woman, like me. What did you see in Sophie, anyway?" Hans felt a wrenching pain in his gut. What he had done had seemed pragmatic and sensible when he had been desperate to save his farm. Now he saw it for what it was - totally sordid.

Hans put his hands in his pocket. The Smartphone was still there. So remarkable though this may seem, this attractive and intelligent woman liked him for himself, and not because she had been magically manipulated in any way. Hans wondered whether he could afford to lose Hilda's affection, and then decided that if he wanted to regain his self respect he needed to risk that. He went into the filing cabinet again and handed her the computer sheets of Sophie's investments. The ones George had been hiding from her.

Hilda looked through the figures silently for several minutes, while Hans fidgeted. "I suspected something of the sort," she said eventually, "but I'd hoped I was wrong. I'm disappointed. You're a better man than that, Hans."

Hans hung his head and said nothing. Then he decided that he may as well come perfectly clean. "I also took insider trading share tips," he said. "I only did it once, but it gained me enough to stave off bankruptcy."

He sat down and stared at Hilda. He would not blame the woman if she walked out on him. Instead she stayed where she was and nodded. "I see. I'm glad you told me this. We need to start clean if we're to do business together. You've gotta pay this money back somehow. Insider trading is not a victimless crime, in spite of what stockbrokers say. It's investors and decent businesses as a whole that suffer 'cos confidence in the entire system goes down. If you take money you're not entitled to from a company, the company shares may fall or the dividends they pay to their shareholders will be lower."

Hans was encouraged by Hilda's response. At least she had not walked away. "So what should I do?" he asked.

"We need to think about the best way for you to make up for what you've done, and pay back the money you stole," Hilda went on. "Because stealing is what it is. One possible solution would be to pay it back - plus interest - to one of the seed fund charities that provide loans and partners for small sustainable businesses. That way the small investors benefit."

Hans's admiration for this intelligent woman grew. "I'm prepared to do that, once I've raised the capital," he said. "And what about Sophie's extra money?"

"Oh, that's easy to solve." said Hilda. "You go straight back to the pub tomorrow with a copy of your printout and tell your banker mate he has to pay Sophie everything he stole off her, plus interest, or you'll be taking the matter up with the police."

Hans did not feel comfortable at this prospect, but realised he had little choice. Soon afterwards he dropped Hilda off at her tiny cottage in the village. "I'll see you at work tomorrow," she said.

The next evening, Hans tried to ignore the butterflies in his stomach as he drove to the village to confront his one-time mates. He debated whether to leave Lucy's Smartphone behind, but then he decided that this was one task he would need to perform without any magical aid.

As Hans walked into the pub, his drinking mates looked up briefly, but then went back to their conversation. Hans sat down in the empty chair. "Hi Hans," said George, but without any enthusiasm. "How's your love life?" Hans glanced across at Hilda behind the bar, who winked at him.

"Coming along very well," said Hans. "But not with Sophie." He swallowed, and then continued. "Who you have been systematically ripping off." He handed the copy of the computer printout to George.

"What's this?" said George, then fell silent as he read it. The others had also stopped talking. "Where did you get this?" he demanded.

"Never you mind. I did get it. And if Sophie is not paid her money back, plus interest at the penalty credit card rate, the original printout will be handed in to the police."

"Why, you little weasel." George turned red. "Snooping round in my private files. After all I have done for you keeping your badly managed farm afloat."

"Ah, yes, that's another thing George," Hans was enjoying himself now, his fear forgotten. "Your boss will be getting a letter requesting my mortgage be transferred to a different bank. My new business adviser has told me you've been ripping me off as well. Some mate you've turned out to be. I've found a bank that will give me a lower rate, and lend me what the property is worth, not what Eric says it's worth."

Now it was Eric's turn to look angry. "Who is this new business adviser?" he blustered. "Some wet behind the ears kid straight from business school who thinks he knows more about the market than I do. I could get you a really good deal on your farm. But if you want to go bankrupt that's your affair."

"I'm Mr. Nees's business adviser, Eric." Eric turned round to see that Hilda had walked up to their table. "And while I'm in charge of his business affairs I'll make sure he's not scammed by crooks like you."

"Now just a minute." Fred joined the conversation. "We could make things very awkward for you, Hans. What about my share tips you took advantage of? I've managed to fend off the Securities Commission once, but they're not giving up that easily. You could get into a lot of trouble if that became known you know."

"So I could, Fred. So I could. So you just go right ahead and call the police and get them to arrest me. While you're at it, you can tell them where I got the tips from. I'm sure they would want to know." Hans handed him Lucy's phone with a smile. Fred refused to take it.

Gerry stood up. "I've had enough of this," he said. "This is nothing to do with me." The dentist walked out of the pub. None of the others acknowledged his leaving.

"Hilda and I are going into business together," said Hans. "Now I'm free of you leeches we can develop my farm to its full potential."

"What about Sophie, you grubby little gold digger?" said Fred.

"I hope to get an invitation to Sophie's wedding very soon." Hans got up to leave. "Don't forget to pay Sophie her money, George. I'll be checking with her tomorrow."