Best Kept Secret (The Clifton Chronicles, #3)(57)

‘Let me assure all our shareholders that we will not go ahead with this project until we are convinced it is a viable proposition. With that in mind I am happy to announce that we will be increasing our shareholders’ dividend this year to five per cent. I have no reason to believe that the company’s growth will not be sustained, or even improved on, during the coming year.’

A round of applause allowed Buchanan to turn a page of his speech and check what he would be saying next. When he looked up, he noticed a couple of financial journalists scurrying out of the room to make sure they caught the first editions of their evening papers, aware that the chairman had already highlighted the main points, and would now take shareholders slowly through the details.

After Buchanan had come to the end of his speech, he and Ray Compton took questions for forty minutes. When the meeting finally came to a close, the chairman noted with some satisfaction that most of the chattering shareholders were leaving with smiles on their faces.

As Buchanan left the stage of the hotel’s conference room, his secretary rushed up and said, ‘You have an urgent call from Hong Kong, and the hotel operator is waiting to put it through to your room.’



When Harry and Emma arrived back at Labour Party HQ, having completed their first canvass returns, they were exhausted.

‘How did you get on?’ asked Griff, checking their clipboards with a professional eye.

‘Not bad,’ said Harry. ‘If the Woodbine estate is anything to go by, we’re home and dry.’

‘I wish,’ said Griff. ‘That estate should be rock-solid Labour, but tomorrow I’ll let you loose on Arcadia Avenue, and then you’ll really find out what we’re up against. Before you go home, put your best reply of the day up on the notice board. The winner gets a box of Cadbury’s Milk Tray.’

Emma grinned. ‘One woman said to me, “My husband votes Tory, but I always support Sir Giles. Whatever you do, please don’t let him know.”’

Griff smiled. ‘That’s not uncommon,’ he said. ‘And, Emma, don’t forget, your most important job is to make sure the candidate is fed and gets a good night’s sleep.’

‘And what about me?’ said Harry, as Giles came bouncing into the room.

‘I’m not interested in you,’ Griff replied. ‘It’s not your name on the ballot paper.’

‘How many meetings have I got this evening?’ was Giles’s first question.

‘Three,’ said Griff, without needing to refer to any notes. ‘Hammond Street YMCA, seven o’clock, the Cannon Road snooker club at eight, and the Working Men’s Club at nine. Make sure you’re not late for any of them, and that you’re safely tucked up in bed before midnight.’

‘I wonder when Griff goes to bed,’ said Emma after he had hurried off to deal with the latest crisis.

‘He doesn’t,’ whispered Giles. ‘He’s a vampire.’



When Ross Buchanan walked into his hotel room, the phone was ringing. He strode across and grabbed the handset.

‘Your call from Hong Kong is on the line, sir.’

‘Good afternoon, Mr Buchanan,’ said a Scottish voice down the crackling line. ‘It’s Sandy McBride. I thought I’d ring and let you know that it all happened just as you predicted, in fact almost to the minute.’

‘And the name of the broker?’

‘Benny Driscoll.’

‘No surprises there,’ said Buchanan. ‘Fill me in on the details.’

‘Within moments of the London Stock Exchange opening, a sale order came up on the ticker tape for two hundred thousand Barrington shares. As per instructions, we immediately purchased all two hundred thousand.’

‘At what price?’

‘Four pounds and three shillings.’

‘Have any more come on the market since?’

‘Not many, and frankly, there have been more buy orders than sell following the excellent results you announced at your AGM.’

‘What’s the share price now?’ Buchanan could hear the ticker tape clattering away in the background.

‘Four pounds and six shillings,’ said McBride. ‘They seem to have settled around there.’

‘Good,’ said Buchanan. ‘Don’t buy any more unless they fall below four pounds three shillings.’

‘Understood, sir.’

‘That should keep the major awake at night for the next three weeks.’

‘The major?’ queried the broker, but Buchanan had already put the phone down.



Arcadia Avenue was, as Griff had warned them, a Tory stronghold, but Harry and Emma didn’t return to the constituency office empty-handed.

After Griff had checked their clipboards, he gave them a quizzical look.

‘We stuck rigorously to your rules,’ said Harry. ‘If we were in any doubt, we marked them as green, undecided.’

‘If you’re right, this seat is going to be a lot closer than the polls are forecasting,’ said Griff, as an out-of-breath Giles dashed in brandishing a copy of the Bristol Evening Post.

‘Have you seen the front page, Griff?’ he said, handing his agent the first edition of the paper.

Griff read the headline, passed it back to Giles and said, ‘Ignore it. Say nothing, do nothing. That’s my advice.’