First Among Equals (24 page)

“When they saw
all the figures, they would at worst rap me over the knuckles.”

“I doubt if the
director of public securities would take the same lenient attitude if he saw
these documents,” said Charles, holding up the papers that had been resting on
his lap.

“You’d ruin the
bank’s name.”

“And you would
probably spend the next ten years in jail. If, however, you did get away with
it, you would be finished in London, and by the time your legal fees had been
paid there wouldn’t be much left of that nest egg in Zurich.”

“So what do you
want this time?” demanded Spencer, sounding exasperated.

“Your j ob,
“ s
aid Charles “My job?” asked Spencer in disbelief. “Do
you imagine because you’ve been a junior Minister you’re capable of running a
successful merchant bank?” he added scornfully,

“I didn’t say I
would run it. I can buy a competent chief executive to do that.”

“Then what will
you
be
doing?”

“I shall be the
chairman of Hampton’s, which will convince City institutions that we wish to
continue in the traditions of generations of my family.”

“You’re
bluffing,” stammered Spencer.

“If you are
still in this building in twenty-four hours’ time,” said Charles, “I shall send
these to the director of public securities.”

There was a
long silence.

“If agreed,”
said Spencer at last, “I would expect two years’ salary as compensation.”

“One year,”
said Charles. Spencer hesitated,
then
nodded slowly.
Charles rose to his feet and put the papers resting on his lap back into his
inside pocket.

They consisted
of nothing more than the morning mail from his Sussex constituents.

Simon felt the
interview had gone well, but Elizabeth was not so sure. They sat huddled in a room
with five other candidates and their wives, patiently waiting.

He thought back
to his answers, and to the eight men and four women on the committee.

“You must admit
it’s the most ideal seat I’ve been considered for,” said Simon.

“Yes, but the
chairman kept eying you suspiciously.”

“But Millburn
mentioned that he had been at Eton with Charles Hampton.”

“That’s what
worries me,” whispered Elizabeth.

“A fifteen thousand majority at the last election, and only forty
minutes from London.
We could even buy a little cottage.”

“
if
they invite you to represent them.”

“At least this
time you were able to tell them you would be willing to live in the
constituency.”

“So would
anyone in their right mind,” said Elizabeth.

The chairman
came out and asked if Mr. and Mrs. Kerslake would be kind enough to return once
more to see the committee.

Oh, God,
thought Simon, what else can they want to know?

“It’s too near
London to be my fault this time,” chuckled Elizabeth.

The Committee
sat and stared at them with long faces.

“Ladies and
gentlemen,” said the chairman. “After our lengthy deliberations, I formally
propose that Mr. Simon Kerslake be invited to contest Pucklebridge at the next
election.

Those in
favor...

All twelve
hands went up.

“Those against
.. .”

“Carried unanimously,”
said the chairman.

He then turned
to Simon. “Do you wish to address your committee?”

The prospective
Conservative Member of Parliament for Pucklebridge rose.

They all waited
expectantly.

“I don’t know
what to say, except that I’m very happy and honored and I can’t wait for a
General Election.” r Fhey all laughed and came forward and surrounded them.
Elizabeth dried her eyes before anyone reached her.

About an hour
later the chairman accompanied Simon and Elizabeth back to their car and bade
them goodnight. Simon wound down his window.

“I knew you
were the right man,” Millburn said, “as soon as CKarles Hampton phoned...”
Simon smiled”and warned me to avoid you like the plague.”

“Could you tell
Miss Trubshaw to come in?” Charles asked his secretary.

Margaret
Trubshaw arrived a few moments later and remained standing in front of his
desk. She couldn’t help but notice the change of furniture in the room. The
modern Conran suite had been replaced by a leather clublike sota and chairs.
Only the picture of the eleventh Earl of Bridgewater remained in place.

“Miss
Trubshaw,” began Charles, “since Mr. Spencer has felt it rjecessary to resign
so suddenly, I think it important for the bank to keep some continuity now that
I’m taking over as chairman.”

Miss Trubshaw
stood like a Greek statue, her hands hidden in the sleeves of her dress.

“With that in
mind, the board has decided to extend your contract with the bank for a further
five years. Naturally, there will be no loss in your pension rights.”

“Thank you, Mr.
Charles.”

“Thank you,
Miss Trubshaw.”

Miss Trubshaw
almost bowed as she left the room.

“And, Miss
Trubshaw – -2’

“Yes, Mr.
Charles,” she said, holding onto the doorknob.

“ –
I believe my wife is expecting a call from you.
Something about inviting you to lunch at the Savoy Grill.”

“A
BLUE SHIRT,” said Raymond, looking at the Turnbull and Asser
label with suspicion. “A blue shirt,” he repeated.

“A fortieth
birthday present,” shouted Kate from the kitchen.

I shall never
wear it, he thought, and smiled to himself *

.And what’s
more, you’ll wear it,” she said, her Boston accent carrying a slight edge.

“You even know
what I’m thinking,” he complained as she came in from the kitchen. He always
thought she looked so elegant in her tailored office clothes.

“It’s because
you’re so predictable, Red.”

“Anywa.y, how
did you know it was my birthday?”

“A massive
piece of detective work,” said Kate, “with the help ofan outside agent and a
small payment.”

“An oubide agent.
Who?”

“The local newspaper store, my darling.
In the Sunday Times
they tell you the name of every distinguished person celebrating a birthday in
the following seven days. In a week during which only the mediocre were born,
you were featured.”

Raymond had to
laugh.

“Now listen,
Red.”

He pretended to
hate his new nickname.

“Do you have to
call me by that revolting name?”

“Oh, stop
making such a fuss, Red, and try on your shirt.”

“Now?”

14NOW.”

He took off his
black coat and waistcoat, removed his white shirt and eased the stud on his
stiff collar, leaving a small circle above his Adam’s apple. Curly red hairs
sprang up all over his chest. He quickly put on the new shirt. The iabric had a
pleasant soft feel about it. He started to do up the buttons, but Kate walked
over and undid the top two.

“You know
what’,’
You’ve
brought a whole new meaning to the word
‘uptight.’ But in the right clothes, you could even pass as goodlooking.

Raymond
scowled.

“Now whcre
shall we go to celebrate your birthday?”

“The House of
Commons?” suggested Raymond.

“Good God,”
said Kate. “I said celebrate, not hold a wake. What about Annabel’s?”

“I can’t afrord
to be seen in Annabel’s.”

“With me, you
mean?”

“No, no, you silly woman, because I’m a Labourite.”

“If mernhers of
the Labour Party are not allowed to indulge in a good meal, then perhaps it’s
time for you to change parties. In my country one only sees the Democrats in
the ‘
-)
,-st restaurants.”

“Oh, do be
serious, Kate.”

“I intend to
be. Now what have you been up to in the House late
]y
?”

“Not a lot,”
said Raymond sheepishly. “I’ve been snowed under in court and...”

“Precisely.
It’s time you did something positive before your
colleagues in Parliament forget you exist.” rD

“Have you
anything particular in mind?” asked Rayrriond, folding his arms across his
chest.

“As a matter of
fact, I have,” said Kate. “I read in the same Sunday papej as the one in which
I discovered your bestkept secret that it is proving difficult for the Labour
Party to repeal the Tories’ trade-union legislation. It appears there are
long-term legal implications which the front bench is still trying to find a
way around.

Why don’t you
set that so-called first-class mind of yours on working out the legal
niceties?”

“Not such a
stupid idea.” Raymond had become used to Kate’s political sense. When he’d remarked
on it she’d only said, “Just another bad habit I picked up from my ex-husband.
Now where do we celebrate?” she asked.

“Compromise,”
said Raymond.

“I’m all cars.”

“The Dorchester
.`

“If you
insist,” said Kate, not sounding overenthusiastic.

Raymond started
to change his shirt.

“No, no, no,
Red, people have been known to wear blue shirts at the Dorchester.”

“But I haven’t
got a tie to match,” said Raymond triumphantly.

Kate thriist
her hand into the Turnbull and Asser bag and drew out a dark-blue silk tie.

“But it’sgot a
pattern on it,” said Raymond in disgust. “What will you expect next?”

“Contact
lenses,” said Kate.

Raymond stared
at her and blinked.

On the way out
the door, Raymond’s gaze fell on the brightly wrapped package that Joyce had mailed
from Leeds earlier in the week. He’d completely forgotten to open it.

“Damn,” said
Charles, putting down the Times and draining his coffee.

“What’s the
problem?” asked Fiona as she poured out another cup.

“Kerslake’s
been selected for Pucklebridge, which means he’s back in the House for life.
Obviously my chat with Archie Millburn had no effect.”

“Why have you
got it in for Kerslake?” asked Fiona.

Charles folded
the paper and considered the question. “It’s quite simple really, old girl. I
think he’s the only one of my contemporaries who could stop me from leading the
Tory Party.”

“Why him in particular?”

“I first came
across him when he was President of the Oxford Union. He was damn good then,
and now he’s better.

He had rivals
but he brushed them aside like flies. No, despite his background, Kerslake’s
the one man left who frightens me.”

“It’s a long
race yet, my darling, and he could still stumble.”

“So could 1,
but I’ll simply have to put more hurdles out for him. Damn,” said Charles
again, looking at his watch,

“I’m late.”

He picked up
his Times, kissed his wife on the forehead and rushed out to the waiting car.

The door closed
as the phone rang. Fiona answered it.
“Fiona Hampton
speaking.”

“It’s Simon
Kerslake. I wondered if Charles was
there?
”

“No, I’m afraid
you’ve just missed him.

May I take a
message?”

“Yes. I wanted
to let him know that I’d been selected for Pucklebridge, and Archie Millburn
left me in no doubt how much Charles did to insure that I was offered the seat.
And by the same token, do thank him for delivering my whips to me so
assiduously.

I understand I
was the only member to receive such personal attention. Be assured if ever I
can return the favors I shall not hesitate to do so.”

The phone went
dead.

Simon listened
intently to Ronnie’s report at the monthly board meeting.

Two tenants had
not paid their quarterly rent, and another quarter deadline was fast
approaching. Ronnie’s solicitors had sent firm reminders, followed a month
later by legal letters, but this action had also failed to elicit any money.

“It only proves
what I feared most,” said Ronnie.

“What’s that?”
asked Simon.

“They j ust
haven’t got the cash.”

“So we will
have to replace them with new tenants.”

“Simon, when
you next travel from Beaufort Street to Whitechapel,
start
counting the ‘For Rent’ signs on office blocks along the way. When you’ve
passed a hundred you’ll find you still haven’t reached the outskirts of the
city ofLondon.-

“So what do you
think we ought to do next?”

“Try and sell one
of our larger properties in order to secure cash flow. We can at least be
thankful that our capital assets are still considerably more valuable than our
borrowings. It’s the companies which have it the other way around that have
started calling in the receiver.”

Simon thought
about his overdraft now approaching one hundred thousand pounds and was
beginning to wish he had taken tip Ronnie’s generous offer to buy back his
shares. He knew that chance had now passed.

When the board
meeting was over, Simon drove to St. Mary’s to pick up Elizabeth. It was to be
one of their threetimes-a-week journeys to Pucklebridge as Simon tried to get
around to all the villages before Wilson called an election.

Archie
Millburn, whohad accompanied them on 208 nearly every trip, was turning out to
be a conscientious chairman.

“He’s been very
kind to us,” said Elizabeth, on their way down to Sussex.

“He certainly
has,” said Simon. “Remembering he also has to run Millburn Electronics. But, as
he reminds us so often, once he’s introduced us to every village chairman we’ll
be on our own.”

“Have you ever
discovered why he ignored Charles Hampton’s advice?”

“No, he hasn’t
mentioned his name since that night. All I know for certain is that they were
at school together.”