This Was a Man (The Clifton Chronicles #7)(102)

A silence followed that few government ministers had ever managed to impose upon the Rt Hon. the Lord Barrington of Bristol Docklands.





‘When Mr Kaufman arrives, Tom, would you ask him to drop into my office before the board meeting?’

‘Of course, sir,’ said the doorman, as he saluted the chairman.

Seb made his way quickly across the lobby to the lifts. Although eight hadn’t yet struck, when he stepped out at the top floor, John Ashley and Arnold Hardcastle were already waiting for him in the corridor.

‘Good morning, gentlemen,’ said Seb, striding past them and into his office. ‘Please, have a seat. I thought we should discuss tactics before Victor arrives – assuming he does arrive. Let’s start with you, John. Any further news?’

Ashley opened a file that was becoming thicker by the day. ‘The cheque for ￡320,000 has been presented. However, Mr Vaughan has agreed that we needn’t clear it immediately as we’re still within the settlement period.’

‘That’s considerate of him,’ said Seb, ‘but then we have been a reliable customer for many years. What do you think we should do, John, if Victor fails to turn up?’

‘Call in Barry Hammond and instruct him to track Victor down wherever he is, because I’ve no doubt he’ll also find the girl there too.’

‘That has its own risks,’ suggested Arnold.

‘Outweighed, in my opinion,’ said John, ‘by the consequences of allowing her to milk Victor dry.’

‘An unfortunate metaphor,’ said Seb, checking his watch. ‘He’s cutting it fine.’

There was a gentle tap on the door and all three of them looked up expectantly. The door opened and Rachel entered the chairman’s office.

‘Some of the directors have already arrived and are waiting for you in the boardroom,’ said his secretary as she handed a copy of the agenda to Seb.

‘Is Mr Kaufman among them, Rachel?’

‘No, chairman, I haven’t seen him this morning.’

‘Then I suggest we join our colleagues,’ said Seb, after glancing at the agenda. ‘I propose that we say nothing about Miss Lombardo until we’ve had a chance to speak to Victor privately.’

‘Agreed,’ said the CEO and the bank’s legal advisor in unison.

All three men rose without another word, made their way out of the chairman’s office and headed for the boardroom, where they joined their colleagues.

‘Good morning, Giles,’ said Seb, who hadn’t called his uncle by his first name until he’d become chairman. ‘Am I to understand that you and my mother are no longer on speaking terms, now the NHS bill has been given its first reading?’

‘That is correct, chairman. The only discourse we will have in the future is across the despatch box.’

Seb smiled, but couldn’t stop himself from continually glancing towards the door. The other directors took their places around the boardroom table but the chair at the far end of the room remained unoccupied. Like his mother, Seb believed in starting board meetings on time. He checked his watch. One minute to nine. He took his seat at the head of the table and said, ‘Good morning, gentlemen. I will ask the company secretary to read the minutes of the last meeting.’

Mr Whitford rose from his place on the right of the chairman and delivered the minutes as if he were reading the lesson at his local church.

Seb tried to concentrate but kept glancing in the direction of the door, although he wasn’t hopeful, as he’d never known Victor to be late for a board meeting. When Mr Whitford sat down, Seb forgot to ask his fellow directors if they had any questions. He simply mumbled, ‘Item number one,’ and was about to call on the chief executive to present his monthly report when the boardroom door was flung open and a flustered deputy chairman rushed in.

Even before he’d taken his seat, Victor said, ‘I apologize, chairman. My flight was delayed because of fog. We must have passed over this building a dozen times before we were allowed to land.’

‘It’s not a problem, Victor,’ said Seb calmly. ‘You’ve only missed the reading of the minutes of the last meeting, and I was about to move on to item number one, the government’s new banking regulations. John?’

Ashley opened a file and looked down at the copious notes he had prepared and the precis he was about to share with his colleagues. ‘It seems that bankers,’ he began, ‘are now ranked alongside estate agents and Members of Parliament as the least trusted members of the community.’

‘Then all I have to do is become an estate agent,’ said Giles, ‘and I’ll have managed all three.’

‘What’s the bottom line?’ said Seb, after the laughter had died down.

‘We can expect further scrutiny into the bank’s daily affairs, and far tougher inspections from the regulatory bodies, along with a string of new regulations. Geoffrey Howe is determined to show he’s a new broom cleaning up the City.’

‘Conservative governments always are, but it’s usually forgotten after a few well-chosen homilies from the chancellor at the lord mayor’s banquet.’

Seb found his mind drifting again, as the directors began to voice their predictable views, the one exception being Giles, who even now he could never second-guess. He snapped back to the real world when he realized his fellow directors were all staring at him.