Authors: Jeffrey Archer
‘Why don’t you move in with me?’ the duke suggested as Virginia straightened his tie.
‘I’m not sure that would be wise, Perry, especially if the children are staying at the castle over Christmas. Perhaps early in the New Year, once they’ve gone?’
‘Well, at least stay with me until they arrive?’
Virginia happily agreed to his request, but only ever left one change of clothes at Eaton Square, aware that she might be sent packing at a moment’s notice. The morning Clarence landed at
Heathrow she reluctantly returned to her little flat in Chelsea, where she soon realized how much she missed not only her new way of life, but also Perry.
1982–1984
‘I’
M SURPRISED YOU
didn’t see that one coming, Pops,’ said Jessica as she joined her father for breakfast.
‘And of course you did,’ said Sebastian. Jake began tapping a spoon on his high chair to gain attention. ‘And I don’t need your opinion, young man.’
‘He’s just preparing to take over as chairman of Farthings Kaufman.’
‘I was rather hoping I might be the next chairman.’
‘Not if Lady Virginia continues to run circles around you.’
‘You seem to forget, young lady, that Virginia had the inside track. She was regularly visiting Mellor in prison, and we now know she’d not only read the letter he wrote to his
daughter, but had been in touch with her long before my plane touched down in Chicago.’
‘But you had a chance to get control of the company for a pound before that, and you turned it down.’
‘At the time, if I remember correctly, you were against me even visiting Mellor in prison, and made your position very clear.’
‘Touché,’ said Samantha, picking up the spoon Jake had cast on the kitchen floor.
‘You should have realized that if there was even a chance of Virginia making some money on the side,’ pressed Jessica, ignoring her mother, ‘she wasn’t to be
trusted.’
‘And may I ask when you worked all this out? During one of your O level economics classes, no doubt?’
‘She didn’t have to,’ said Samantha, placing a rack of toast on the table. ‘She’s been eavesdropping on our breakfast conversations for the past six months.
It’s nothing more than hindsight, so don’t rise, Seb.’
‘Plus a little female intuition,’ insisted Jessica.
‘Well, in case you didn’t notice, young lady, Thomas Cook did take over Mellor Travel, and their shares continue to rise, despite your misgivings.’
‘But they had to pay far more than you’d originally intended. And what I’d like to know,’ continued Jessica, ‘is how much of the extra money ended up in
Virginia’s pocket.’
Sebastian didn’t know, though he suspected it was more than the bank was paid, but he took Samantha’s advice and didn’t rise to the bait.
‘Not a bad return for half a dozen prison visits,’ were Jessica’s parting words, after giving Jake a huge hug.
Samantha smiled as her daughter left the room. She had told Seb soon after Jake’s birth that she was anxious about how Jessica might respond to the new arrival, having been the centre of
attention for so long. But the exact opposite turned out to be the case, because Jake immediately became the centre of Jessica’s life. She was happy to babysit whenever her parents wanted to
go out in the evening, and at weekends she would wheel him around St James’s park in his pram, before putting him to bed. Elderly matrons cooed over him, not sure if Jessica was an attentive
older sister or a young unmarried mother.
Jessica had settled down quickly in her adopted country, after finally bringing her parents to their senses, and now she rejoiced not only in their happiness, but in the joy of having a baby
brother. She adored her new extended family. Pops, who was tolerant, kind and amusing, Grandpops who was wise, thoughtful and inspiring, and Grandma who the press often dubbed ‘the Boadicea
of Bristol’, which made Jessica feel Boadicea must have been one hell of a woman.
However, settling into her new school hadn’t proved quite as easy. While some of the girls called her the Yank, others less generously described her as a stick insect. Jessica concluded
that the Mafia and the Ku Klux Klan combined could have learnt a great deal about intimidation from the pupils of St Paul’s Girls’ School, and by the end of her first year, she only had
one close friend, Claire Taylor, who shared most of her interests, including boys.
During her final year at St Paul’s, Jessica hovered around the middle of the class, regularly beaten by Claire in every subject except art, where she remained
unassailable. While most of her classmates were anxious about being offered a university place, no one doubted where Jessica was heading.
Jessica did, however, confide in Claire a fear that if she was offered a place at the Slade, she might discover that Avril Perkins, who came second in art, was right when she remarked within
Jessica’s hearing that she was just a big fish in a small pool, who was about to be cast into the ocean where she would undoubtedly sink without trace.
Claire told her to dismiss Avril for the little creep she was, but Jessica still spent her final term at St Paul’s wondering if she might be right.
When the high mistress announced at prize-giving that Jessica Clifton had been awarded the Gainsborough Scholarship to the Slade School of Fine Art, Jessica seemed to be the only person in the
hall who was surprised. In fact, she took as much pleasure in Claire being offered a place at University College to read English as she did in her own triumph. However, she wasn’t pleased to
learn that Avril Perkins would be joining her at the Slade.
‘The chairman would like a word with you, Mr Clifton.’
Sebastian stopped signing letters and looked up to see the boss’s secretary standing in the doorway. ‘I thought he was in Copenhagen?’
‘He came back on the first flight this morning,’ said Angela, ‘and asked to see you the moment he walked into his office.’
‘Sounds serious,’ said Seb, raising an eyebrow, but receiving no response.
‘All I can tell you, Mr Clifton, is that he’s cleared his diary for the rest of the morning.’
‘Perhaps he’s going to sack me,’ said Seb, hoping to tempt Angela into an indiscretion.
‘I don’t think so, because that usually only takes him a couple of minutes.’
‘Not even a clue?’ whispered Sebastian as they left his office and walked along the corridor together.
‘All I’m willing to say,’ said Angela, ‘is that you can’t have missed the fact that Mr Bishara has travelled to Copenhagen six times in the last month. Perhaps
you’re about to find out why,’ she added before knocking on the chairman’s door.
‘Has he taken over Lego or Carlsberg?’ said Seb as Angela opened the door and stood aside to allow him to enter.
‘Good morning, chairman,’ said Seb. But he couldn’t work out from the sphinx-like expression on Hakim Bishara’s face if it was good news or bad.
‘Good morning, Sebastian.’ First clue, thought Seb. The chairman only ever called him Sebastian when he was about to discuss something serious. ‘Have a seat.’ Second
clue, this wasn’t going to be a short meeting.
‘Sebastian, I wanted you to be the first to know that I got married on Saturday.’
Seb had considered half a dozen possible reasons the chairman would want to see him, but marriage wasn’t among them, and to say he was taken by surprise would have been an understatement.
For a moment he couldn’t think of what to say. Hakim leant back in his chair and enjoyed the unusual experience of a silent CEO.
‘Do I know the lady in question?’ Seb eventually managed.
‘No, but you’ve seen her from a distance.’
Sebastian decided to join in the game. ‘In London?’
‘Yes.’
‘In the City?’
‘Yes,’ Hakim repeated, ‘but you’re heading down the wrong road.’
‘Is she a banker?’
‘No, a landscape architect.’
‘So she must have worked on one of our projects,’ suggested Seb.
‘Yes and no.’
‘Was she for or against us?’
‘Neither,’ said Hakim. ‘I would describe her as neutral, but not helpful.’
Another long silence followed before Sebastian said, ‘Oh my God, it’s the woman who gave evidence in your trial. Mrs, um, Mrs . . .’
‘Bergström.’
‘But she was the Crown’s key witness, and she certainly didn’t help our cause. I remember everyone regretting that Mr Carman had tracked her down.’
‘Everyone except me,’ said Hakim. ‘I spent endless nights in prison regretting that I hadn’t spoken to her when we sat next to each other on that flight back from Lagos.
So a few days after I was released, I flew to Copenhagen.’
‘I’ve never thought of you as the romantic type, Hakim, and I suspect most of our colleagues in the City would agree with me. May I ask what Mr Bergström had to say about your
proposed takeover bid?’
‘I wouldn’t have boarded the plane if there’d been a Mr Bergström. It only took Barry Hammond a couple of days to discover that Kristina’s husband died of a heart
attack at the age of fifty-two.’
‘Don’t tell me, he was a banker.’
‘Head of the loans division at the Royal Bank of Copenhagen.’
‘They nearly went under a couple of years ago.’
‘On his watch, I’m afraid,’ said Hakim quietly.
‘So will Mrs Bergström—’
‘Mrs Bishara.’
‘Be moving to London?’
‘Not immediately. She has two children who are still at school, and she doesn’t want their lives disrupted, so I had to make a deal.’
‘Which you’re usually very good at.’
‘Not when it’s personal. Something I’ve always warned you about. We plan to live in Copenhagen for the next couple of years, until Inge and Aksel are settled at university.
After that, Kristina has agreed to come to England.’
‘In the meantime, you’ll be living on an aeroplane.’
‘Not a chance. Kristina has made it abundantly clear that she doesn’t need a second husband to die of a heart attack. Which is why I needed to see you, Sebastian. I want you to take
over as chairman of the bank.’
This time Seb was stunned into a far longer silence, which Hakim again took advantage of.
‘I intend to call a board meeting early next week so I can brief the directors on my decision. I shall propose that you replace me as chairman, while I become president of the bank. All
you’ll need to decide is who will be your CEO.’
Seb didn’t need to spend much time thinking about that, but he waited to hear Hakim’s opinion.
‘I assume you’ll want Victor Kaufman to take your place,’ said Hakim. ‘After all, he’s one of your oldest friends, and owns twenty-five per cent of the bank’s
stock.’
‘That doesn’t qualify him to be in charge of the day-to-day operations of a major financial institution. We’re running a bank, Hakim, not a local sports club.’
‘Does that mean you have another candidate in mind?’
‘John Ashley would be my first choice,’ said Seb without hesitation.
‘But he’s only been with the bank a couple of years. He’s hardly got his feet under the table.’
‘But what a pedigree,’ Seb reminded him. ‘Manchester Grammar School, the London School of Economics, and a scholarship to Harvard Business School. And let’s not forget
how much we had to pay to tempt him away from Chase Manhattan. And how long will it be before one of our rivals offers him a golden hello? Sooner rather than later, would be my guess, especially if
Victor ends up as CEO of Farthings. No. If you want me to be chairman, Hakim, appointing John Ashley to that position is the deal maker.’