Robert Sayles: The day the bailiffs came

May 29th 2008 Steve looked out of the window as the sounds of approaching vehicles became audible; they had come, just as they said they would. He'd...

May 29th 2008

Steve looked out of the window as the sounds of approaching vehicles became audible; they had come, just as they said they would. He'd been mentally preparing himself for this moment; it would, he knew, be a difficult time for both of them.

He glanced at his wife Caroline; she sat impassive, betraying little emotion, appearing detached from the whole process. He knew this was little more than a mask, a brave attempt to conceal the inner pain and anguish.

In truth she was heartbroken, they both were; this pub had been their dream, a chance for a fresh start.

Neither of them said anything; there was little left to say. The turmoil of the last twelve months had taken its toll; anger and frustration replaced over time by exhaustion and an overriding sense of resignation as the inevitability of their fate had become all too apparent.

The silence of the moment was broken by the sound of car doors opening and closing; a signal that closure was imminent on this protracted, painful saga.

There are those who say that emotion has no place in the world of business, that you should remain 'detached' at all times. Steve reflected that those who espoused such sentiments clearly hadn't experienced the pain he and his wife were feeling.

This pub, the pub they had fallen in love with, the pub that symbolised all their hopes and aspirations, the pub that had become their home would soon be little more than a distant memory. It was about to be taken away from them and there was absolutely nothing they could do to prevent it.

As they waited for the knock on the door Steve reflected that they faced a future filled with nothing but uncertainty. Where would they live? What would they live on? They had invested what little money they had in this pub.

Where had it all gone wrong? It wasn't meant to end this way. At the outset it had all seemed so very different...

September 14th 2006

Three months after being laid off, and with little prospect of finding a decent job, Steve and his wife had come to a decision; they were going to run a pub together. Steve had always fancied the idea of working for himself; the redundancy money he received from his previous job would be more than enough to get them set up.

They attended the obligatory one week pubco course, spent the next several weeks looking for a suitable site and eventually found one they liked. Steve felt particularly pleased with himself; he'd managed to persuade the BDM to give it to them on a TAW (tenancy at will) agreement on a nominal rent.

It needed some work but as the BDM had pointed out, they didn't have to worry about paying a premium rent so they could afford to invest in their pub and turn it around. He went on to explain, quite reasonably it seemed, that the pubco could not be expected to contribute as Steve and Caroline hadn't signed a secure agreement.

They closed the pub for two weeks and undertook a mini-refurb. The badly worn seating areas were reupholstered; they also bought a new fridge, replaced the old stained carpets with wooden flooring and had the pub interior redecorated.

The cost was rather more than they'd anticipated, but then again it was an investment for the future wasn't it?

The pub opened for business on December 5th 2006. The customers appeared to like the changes they'd made and after a slow start, business began to pick up, the future looked assured.

Then in early June, just as they felt they were finding their feet, the BDM came around to inform them that the TAW was about to expire. He offered them two options, sign a secure agreement or leave.

The rent demanded by the pubco appeared high. When Steve questioned it he was informed that it was the market rent and as such reflected the turnover a competent operator would be expected to generate.

The BDM also advised them that the pub was on the pubco website; if they didn't take it then it was highly likely that somebody else would.

They were wary about signing a lease but Steve recalled a conversation he'd had with a fellow applicant on the pubco course they'd attended. The guy had mentioned that he was looking to take on a lease as he'd be able to assign it later and make a few bob.

They signed the lease agreement on June 6th 2007.

On Sunday the 1st July, the smoking ban came into force. Steve was not unduly worried by this. After all, earlier in the year CAMRA had assured publicans that seven million more people would visit pubs once they were smoke free. There was nothing to worry about was there?

Initially the ban appeared to have little impact; however once the warm summer months passed and temperatures began to fall, it quickly became apparent that the ban was a disaster for their business.

The pub had no beer garden and little scope for a viable smoking solution; their customers deserted them in droves.

Three months later a nearby factory closed down, further evidence that the much publicised recession was beginning to make its presence felt. Unemployment was on the rise and people were becoming increasingly reticent about parting with their money.

Coming so soon after the smoking ban, the closure was a devastating blow for their business. Turnover dropped dramatically and it became increasingly difficult to pay the seemingly endless flow of bills.

Breaking the tie

There was never any money to spend on themselves and eventually the inevitable happened; the day came when they didn't have enough to cover the beer order.

After much soul searching, they took the decision to buy outside the tie. It was either that or close the pub; what else could they do? The move offered temporary respite, little more. Three weeks later they found themselves in a similar predicament and were forced to buy out yet again.

Their BDM appeared unsympathetic to their plight; merely informing them that they had signed a legally binding agreement and needed to focus on finding new ways to 'grow trade'.

Shortly after, Brulines arrived to carry out a routine stock check. A couple of days later Steve got a call from the BDM asking why they'd purchased outside the 'bounds of their agreement'.

Steve outlined their difficulties and was informed that they'd be facing a sizeable fine, the payment being added to their next rental demand.

Both Caroline and Steve knew there was insufficient money in the account to cover the outgoings. Needless to say, the payment did not go through; the following week the BDM returned and threatened legal action unless they came up with the money.

They later reflected that during the course of the first nine months they'd hardly seen their BDM, now they'd fallen into arrears he was appearing with unerring frequency. Was it their imagination or did he only appear interested in their plight once they failed to meet their financial obligations?

All for nothing

One evening, after the last of the customers had departed, Steve poured himself a drink and sat at the bar. There was no rush to go upstairs, Caroline had gone to visit her parents and taken the children with her; they wouldn't be back until the following evening.

Steve was not much of a drinker; in truth he rarely touched alcohol. On this particular evening it was different; he needed a drink like he'd never needed one before.

It was clear that things had reached the point of no return. Sure, he made reassuring noises to Caroline, but in his heart he knew the dream was all but over. He looked at the new upholstery, the new fridge behind the bar, the immaculate wooden flooring. 'All for nothing', he thought to himself.

Where had it all gone wrong? What could he have done differently? It mattered little now; what was important was the future and there was no denying it looked bleak.

He was conscious of the presence of an emotion he hadn't experienced in a long time; an overriding sense of fea