Absorption this week of the 100-year old Irish chemists' chain Hayes Conyngham Robinson into the bloodstream of Boots, the giant British retail chemist, was yet another disagreeable pill to swallow for both suppliers to HCR and those concerned about the future of indigenous Irish businesses. Boots, itself no slouch in the longevity stakes, having been in existence for over 121 years, acquires HCR in a deal worth £13 million, making it the largest chemist chain in Ireland. As a byproduct the deal adds two more multi-millionaires to the Republic's growing list of entrepreneurs who, having built up a business, succumbed to an offer which could not be refused. The brothers Michael and Christopher Shiell great-grandsons of one of the founders of the company, walk away with £6.5 million each and retain four properties which they will lease to Boots.
As custom dictates, there was much soothing, caring-and-sharing ointment spread around at the formal announcement. Boots stressed the "common heritage" factor, guaranteed the jobs of the 300 staff and promised a "constructive relationship" with local suppliers, alarmingly similar to the sort of lip gloss coming from the Tesco camp at the time of the Quinnsworth deal. The Shiell brothers, 25 years in the business, offered the reassurance that the sell-out represents "a good deal for us (ie: the company) and a good deal for our staff".
Pharmaceutical and cosmetic suppliers reached for the headache tablets. The Irish Pharmaceutical Union is concerned that Boots, which turned over £4.6 billion sterling last year, with profits of £492 million, will use its muscle to source its ownbrand products outside Ireland. The Small Firms Association is equally concerned, warning that the take-over could threaten up to 1,000 jobs.
There are also fears that the ascetically-pleasing, old-world qualities of some of HCR's outlets will be obliterated by the bland, minimalist corporate identity of Boots. A microcosm, as it were, of the downside in the open markets of Europe. Signing up to the Treaty of Rome may have suckled the Celtic tiger cub and, while decades later the mature beast is roaring mightily, its European jungle habitat is rife with danger. For those suffering collateral damage, the Brussels medicine chest offering only sticking plaster and aspirin, could be even Boots own-brand .
