A Dangerous Fortune(29)
“I can certainly deposit it for you.”
“What interest will I get?”
“Four percent, at present.”
“That’ll do, I suppose.”
Hugh hesitated. It occurred to him that if Sir John could be persuaded to buy Russian bonds, the loan issue could be transformed from being slightly undersubscribed to slightly oversubscribed. Should he mention it? He had already overstepped his authority by bringing a guest into the Partners’ Room. He decided to take a chance. “You could get five and three-eighths by buying Russian bonds.”
Sir John narrowed his eyes. “Could I, now?”
“Yes. The subscription closed yesterday, but for you—”
“Are they safe?”
“As safe as the Russian government.”
“I’ll think about it.”
Hugh’s enthusiasm had been aroused now and he wanted to close the sale. “The rate may not be the same tomorrow, as you know. When the bonds come on the open market the price may go up or down.” Then he decided he was sounding too eager, so he backed off. “I’ll place this cheque to your account immediately, and if you wish you could talk to one of my uncles about the bonds.”
“All right, young Pilaster—off you go.”
Hugh went out and met Uncle Samuel in the hall. “Sir John Cammel is in there, Uncle,” he said. “I found him in the banking hall looking bad-tempered, so I’ve given him a glass of Madeira—I hope I did the right thing.”
“I’m sure you did,” said Samuel. “I’ll take care of him.”
“He brought in this cheque for a hundred and ten thousand. I mentioned the Russian loan—it’s undersubscribed by a hundred thousand.”
Samuel raised his eyebrows. “That was precocious of you.”
“I only said he might talk to one of the partners about it if he wanted a higher rate of interest.”
“All right. It’s not a bad idea.”
Hugh returned to the banking hall, pulled out Sir John’s ledger and entered the deposit, then took the cheque to the clearing clerk. Then he went up to the fourth floor to Mulberry’s office. He handed over the tally of Russian bonds, mentioned the possibility that Sir John Cammel might buy the balance, and sat down at his own table.
A walker came in with tea and bread and butter on a tray. This light refreshment was served to all clerks who stayed at the office after four-thirty. When work was light most people left at four. Bank staff were the elite among clerks, much envied by merchants’ and shippers’ clerks who often worked until late and sometimes right through the night.
A little later Samuel came in and handed some papers to Mulberry. “Sir John bought the bonds,” he said to Hugh. “Good work—that was an opportunity well taken.”
“Thank you.”
Samuel spotted the labeled trays on Mulberry’s desk. “What’s this?” he said in a tone of amusement. “‘For the attention of the Principal Clerk … Having been dealt with by the Principal Clerk.’”
Mulberry answered him. “The purpose is to keep incoming and outgoing papers separate. It avoids confusion.”
“What a good scheme. I think I might do the same.”
“As a matter of fact, Mr. Samuel, it was young Mr. Hugh’s idea.”
Samuel turned an amused look on Hugh. “I say, you are keen, dear boy.”
Hugh was sometimes told he was too cocky, so now he pretended to be humble. “I know I’ve got an awful lot to learn still.”
“Now, now, no false modesty. Tell me something. If you were to be released from Mr. Mulberry’s service, what job would you like to do next?”
Hugh did not have to think about his answer. The most coveted job was that of correspondence clerk. Most clerks saw only a part of a transaction—the part they recorded—but the correspondence clerk, drafting letters to clients, saw the whole deal. It was the best position in which to learn, and the best from which to win promotion. And Uncle Samuel’s correspondence clerk, Bill Rose, was due to retire.
Without hesitation Hugh said: “I’d like to be your correspondence clerk.”
“Would you, now? After only a year in the bank?”
“By the time Mr. Rose goes it will be eighteen months.”
“So it will.” Samuel still seemed amused, but he had not said no. “We’ll see, we’ll see,” he said, and he went out.
Mulberry said to Hugh: “Did you advise Sir John Cammel to buy the surplus Russian bonds?”
“I just mentioned it,” said Hugh.
“Well, well,” said Mulberry. “Well, well.” And he sat staring at Hugh speculatively for several minutes thereafter.
2
IT WAS A SUNNY SUNDAY AFTERNOON, and all London was out for a stroll in their best Sunday-go-to-meeting clothes. The wide avenue of Piccadilly was free from traffic, for only an invalid would drive on the Sabbath. Maisie Robinson and April Tilsley were strolling down Piccadilly, looking at the palaces of the rich and trying to pick up men.
They lived in Soho, sharing a single room in a slum house in Carnaby Street, near the St. James’s Workhouse. They would get up around midday, dress carefully, and go out on the streets. By evening they had generally found a couple of men to pay for their dinner: if not, they went hungry. They had almost no money but they needed little. When the rent was due April would ask a boyfriend for a “loan.” Maisie always wore the same clothes and washed her underwear every night. One of these days someone would buy her a new gown. Sooner or later, she hoped, one of the men who bought her dinner would either want to marry her or set her up as his mistress.