This Was A Man (7 page)

Emma and Giles burst out laughing. ‘You put us both to shame,’ said Emma. ‘I can’t wait to see the collection. But where will you display it?’

‘I think I’ve found an ideal house in Trumpington with enough wall space to hang all the paintings, and a large enough garden for the statues to be well displayed. So in future, it
will be my turn to invite you to stay for the weekend. I haven’t closed the deal yet, but I’ve set Sebastian on to the poor estate agents and left him to settle the price. Although I
can’t believe he’ll do any better than Jessica – she’s convinced that my art collection will turn out to be a more lucrative investment than stocks and shares, which she
reminded her father you can’t hang on a wall. He tried to explain to her the difference between “appreciation” and “appreciate”, but he got nowhere.’

‘Bravo,’ said Emma. ‘I only hope there’s the odd Monet left over for me, because I’d also intended to ask Jessica’s advice, although to tell you the truth I
still haven’t decided what to do with my windfall. I’ve had three meetings with Hakim Bishara and Seb, but I’m no nearer to making up my mind. Having lost one chairmanship,
I’ve been concentrating on the government’s new NHS reform package and its consequences for the Royal Infirmary.’

‘That bill will never see the light of day if Margaret Thatcher wins the election,’ said Giles.

‘Amen to that,’ said Emma. ‘But it remains my responsibility to prepare my fellow board members for the consequences should Labour be returned to power. I don’t intend to
leave my successor, whoever he or she may be, to pick up the pieces.’ She paused, before adding, ‘Any other business?’

From under the table Giles produced magnificent models of the
Buckingham
and the
Balmoral
, along with a bottle of champagne. ‘My dearest Emma,’ he said,
‘Grace and I will be forever in your debt. Without your leadership, dedication and commitment, we would not be in the privileged position we now find ourselves. We will be eternally
grateful.’

Three tumblers that normally held water were filled to the brim with champagne by Giles, but Emma couldn’t take her eyes off the two model ships.

‘Thank you,’ she said as they raised their glasses. ‘But I confess I’ve enjoyed every moment and I’m already missing being chairman. I also have a surprise for you.
Cunard have asked me to join their board, so I too would like to make a toast.’ She rose from her place, and raised her glass.

‘To Joshua Barrington, who founded the Barrington Shipping Line in 1839, and made a profit of thirty-three pounds, four shillings and tuppence in his first year as chairman, but promised
the shareholders more.’

Giles and Grace raised their glasses.

‘To Joshua Barrington.’

‘Perhaps the time has come for us to celebrate the recent birth of my great-nephew, Jake,’ said Giles, ‘who Seb hopes will be the next chairman but one of Farthings
Bank.’

‘Would it be too much to hope that Jake might consider doing something more worthwhile than being a banker?’ said Grace.

‘H
OW GOOD WAS
your source?’

‘Unimpeachable. And he wrote down what he overheard, word for word.’

‘Well, I can’t pretend, chairman,’ admitted Matron, ‘that I haven’t heard rumours of this kind before, but never anything that could be substantiated. The one nurse
who did make an official complaint resigned a week later.’

‘What options do we have?’ asked Emma.

‘Do you know anything about the nurse, other than the conversation that was overheard?’

‘I can tell you that the alleged assault took place in the laundry room on the third floor.’

‘That might cut it down to half a dozen nurses.’

‘And she’d been on ward rounds with Dr Hands earlier that morning.’

‘When was that?’

‘Yesterday.’

‘Then we’re probably down to two or three nurses at most.’

‘And she was West Indian.’

‘Ah,’ said Matron. ‘I wondered why Beverley had a black eye, and now I know. But she’d have to make an official complaint for us to consider opening an ethics
enquiry.’

‘How long would that take?’

‘Six to nine months, and even then, as there were clearly no witnesses, I wouldn’t give you much of a chance.’

‘So it’s back to square one and Dr Hands can continue on his merry way while we do nothing about it.’

‘I’m afraid so, chairman, unless . . .’

‘Many congratulations on the successful takeover,’ said Margaret Thatcher when Emma came on the line, ‘although I can’t imagine it was an easy
decision.’

‘I was torn in half,’ admitted Emma. ‘But the board, my family and all our professional advisors were unanimous in advising me to accept Cunard’s offer.’

‘So how are you filling your time, now you’re no longer chairman of Barrington’s?’

‘I still have a few more months before I hand over the chairmanship of the Royal Infirmary, but after last night’s vote of no confidence in the government, it looks as if I’ll
be spending most of my time running around the West Country trying to make sure you end up in Downing Street.’

‘I’d rather you were running around the whole country doing the same job,’ said Mrs Thatcher.

‘I’m not sure I understand.’

‘If you switch on your television, you’ll see the Prime Minister being driven into Buckingham Palace for an appointment with the Queen. Mr Callaghan will be seeking her permission to
prorogue Parliament so he can call a general election.’

‘Has a date been fixed?’

‘Thursday May the third. And I want you to take on your brother head-on.’

‘What do you have in mind?’

‘As you probably know, he’s once again in charge of Labour’s marginal-seats campaign. Those fifty or sixty key constituencies that will determine the outcome of the election. I
think you’d be the ideal person to do the same job for the Tory party.’

‘But Giles has vast experience of election campaigns. He’s a consummate politician—’

‘—and no one knows him better than you.’

‘There must be a dozen or more people who are far better qualified to take on such a responsibility.’

‘You’re my first choice. And I have a feeling your brother will not be pleased when he learns who he’s up against.’ A long silence followed, before Mrs Thatcher added,
‘Come up to London and meet the party chairman, Peter Thorneycroft. He’s already set everything up, so all I need now is a coordinator who will put the fear of God into our local
chairmen in those marginal seats.’

This time Emma didn’t hesitate. ‘When do I start?’

‘Tomorrow morning, ten o’clock, Central Office,’ replied the leader of the opposition.

‘You asked to see me, chairman.’

‘I did, and I’ll get straight to the point,’ said Emma even before Hands had been given the chance to sit down. ‘I’ve had several complaints from nurses concerning
your unethical behaviour.’

‘Several?’ said Hands, who sat down in his chair, looking relaxed.

‘During the past year, Matron has been collecting evidence, and she has asked me to set up an official enquiry.’

‘Be my guest,’ said Hands. ‘You’ll find nothing will stick, and I’ll be completely exonerated.’

‘Nothing will stick? An unfortunate choice of words, I would have thought, Dr Hands, unless of course . . .’

‘You say another word, Lady Clifton, and I’ll instruct my lawyers to issue a writ for libel.’

‘I doubt it. Like you, I’ve made sure there are no witnesses, and while I accept that you may be cleared of all the charges, I intend to make sure that your reputation will be in
tatters, and you’ll never be able to find a job in this country again. So I suggest—’

‘Are you threatening me? If you are, it could well be your reputation that ends up in tatters, once the enquiry proves to be a waste of time and money – and just when BRI has once
again been shortlisted for hospital of the year.’

‘Yes, I had considered that,’ said Emma. ‘In the past your strength has always been that it was your word against that of a young nurse. But this time you won’t be
dealing with a frightened young woman but the chairman of the hospital. And yes, I am willing to risk my reputation against yours.’

‘You’re bluffing,’ said Hands. ‘You’ve got less than a year to go, and you really wouldn’t want this to be the one thing you’re remembered
for.’

‘Wrong again, Dr Hands. When I expose you for what you are, I suspect your colleagues and the sixteen nurses who have provided written evidence –’ Emma tapped a thick file on
the desk in front of her, which was nothing more than a surveyor’s report – ‘will be only too grateful for my intervention, while you’ll find it difficult to get a job in a
minor African state.’

This time Hands hesitated before he spoke. ‘I’ll take my chances. I’m confident you don’t have enough evidence to open an enquiry.’

Emma leant forward, dialled an outside number and switched the phone to speaker. A moment later they both heard the word, ‘Editor.’

‘Good morning, Reg. Emma Clifton.’

‘Which one of my reporters do you want strung up this morning, Emma?’

‘Not one of your reporters this time. One of my doctors.’

‘Tell me more.’

‘I’m about to instigate an enquiry into the behaviour of a doctor at the hospital, and I thought you’d want to hear about it before the nationals get hold of the
story.’

‘That’s good of you, Emma.’ Hands began waving at her frantically. ‘But if the story is going to make the final edition, I’ll need to send a reporter over to the
hospital immediately.’

‘I have an appointment at eleven,’ said Emma, looking down at her diary, ‘but I’ll call you back in a few moments if I can rearrange it.’

As Emma hung up, she spotted beads of sweat appearing on Hands’ forehead.

‘If I’m to cancel my appointment with the reporter from the
Bristol Evening News
,’ she said, once again tapping the file, ‘I’ll expect you to be off these
premises by midday. Otherwise, I recommend you pick up today’s final edition, in which you’ll discover exactly what I think of doctors like you. Be sure to stay by your phone, as I have
a feeling they’ll want to hear your side of the story.’

Hands rose unsteadily from his seat and left the room without another word. Once the door had closed, Emma picked up the phone and re-dialled the number she had promised to call back.

‘Thank you,’ she said, when a voice came on the line.

‘My pleasure,’ said Harry. ‘What time will you be home for dinner?’

‘If you’re going to spend the next month in London,’ said Harry after he’d heard Emma’s news, ‘where do you intend to stay?’

‘With Giles. That way I’ll be able to keep a close eye on his every move.’

‘And he on yours. But I can’t see him agreeing to such a cosy little arrangement.’

‘He’s not going to be given much choice,’ said Emma. ‘You’ve obviously forgotten I own the freehold of number twenty-three Smith Square. So if anyone’s going
to be looking for temporary accommodation, it will be Giles, not me.’

1979–1981

‘D
O YOU WANT
to hear the bad news?’ said Giles as he strode into Griff Haskins’s office and plonked himself down in the seat opposite
a man who was lighting his fourth cigarette of the morning.