East of the City (32 page)

Nev went out to see. When Nev was gone, I said to Tubs, ‘Did the old man lose his marbles, go crazy?’ I got up, shaking my head. Big bold Bob Collier, my old man. In the end he’d finally done it, what I was so afraid of all those years ago. What I’d told him was bound to happen. He’d trusted his luck one time too many, bet the farm and lost everything. Did it even cross his mind what that might mean for Mum?

 ‘I told him,’ I said. ‘I bloody warned him.’

 Pacing the room now, I put the rest of it together. Fielding must have picked this up at the Gallon, or out at the Stow, when he was investigating Eddie Pike’s ‘death’. And then he’d passed it on to the Ottoman team. And it was true. In the afternoon session they were going to skin me alive. ‘I can’t believe it,’ I said. ‘He’s been dead six months and here he is again, fucking up my life.’

Tubs came at me like a dog at a hare. He grabbed me by the lapels and shoved me up against the wall.

‘You wanna know why Bob done it, double or nothin’ on fifty grand?’

I tried to shake free, but he held firm.

‘You really wanna know?’ he said.

‘I don't care why.’

‘Because of you. His son. That’s why he done it.’

I spun away, but Tubs grabbed my shoulder and pulled me back to face him. ‘Sebastian bloody Ward. Every time you went home, it was Ward done this and Ward done that, how much money he made, what a great fucking hero he was.’

‘I never said that.’

‘You didn’t have to. Christ. Howdya think Bob felt? Ward got you that start at Lloyd’s, next thing you’re in a friggin’ suit. You’re coinin’ it, Ward’s coinin’ it, and Bob, he’s still down the Stow watchin’ the bloody dogs go round.'

‘I offered Mum money. He wouldn’t let her take it. He didn’t need to bet with Sebastian.'

‘Money?’ Tubs looked at me like I was thick. ‘He didn’t want your money.’

‘Well what the fuck did he want?’ Tubs didn’t answer me, he went back to the table, and I followed him. 'Tell me, Tubs. When I was working with him, he wouldn’t listen to me. When I joined Lloyd’s, he just didn’t want to know. From the day I left home we never once sat down and talked. Is that normal? That’s not normal, Tubs.’ I held up a finger. ‘Not once.’

‘Forget it,’ he said. ‘Jesus.’ Then he went to the door and grabbed his coat.

‘Tubs?’ I said, and he paused, one hand on the door. ‘What did he want? Do you even know?’

All the anger had gone out of Tubs now, he seemed a different man, not menacing, just tired. Fat and old and tired. But how he looked at me now, that hurt. Because he looked like he was disappointed with what he saw. ‘He wanted your respect, Ian,' he said, and then he muttered as he went out, 'Christ knows why.’

T
he solicitors were late getting back. I sat in the witness seat and stared at my glass of water. Beside me, the Ottoman barristers were discussing some judge, debating whether he was ga-ga or just putting on an act. One of them leant over and asked if I’d had a good lunch. When I ignored him, he turned back to chat with his colleague again.

My old man dropped a hundred grand, pretty much everything he had, just to win my respect. Sitting there in the courtroom, Mum and Dad dead, the Ottoman barristers waiting to destroy me, I thought I'd hit rock-bottom. He was my father, and I was his son; but I was never like him, and he was never like me. We'd both known it, but somehow our whole lives we just hadn’t managed to get past this one painful fact.

When I bought my first flat, I told Dad how I’d saved the deposit, how I’d got a special deal on the mortgage. I thought he’d be happy, proud even, but I was halfway through telling him about it when Tubs came by. The old man got up, saying ‘Good’, like he didn’t really care, then the pair of them went down the pub. Respect. Wasn’t that what I'd wanted from him too? And now, too late, I saw it. How the hell did I expect to win big Bob Collier’s respect by showing him how clever I was at playing safe? And how the hell did he expect to win mine by going head-to-head with Sebastian on a hundred grand punt?

But he’d tried. He’d wanted my respect.

Jesus. I bowed my head over the desk.

There was a stir of voices at the back of the court, I looked up. Clive filed in with the Ottoman solicitors, I caught his eye but he immediately turned away. Max Ward followed them in and went and sat by Fielding and seemed to tell him some news. Fielding nodded.

I sat up straight. The Ottoman solicitors went into a huddle with their barristers while Clive spoke to Batri in a whisper. Something was definitely up. But before I could go across and speak to Batri and Clive, the clerk came in telling us to rise for the judge.

When the judge sat down, everybody else did too, except the Ottoman barrister and Batri. They glanced at one another, kind of unsure, then the Ottoman barrister gestured for Batri to go ahead and speak.

‘My lord, during the luncheon recess my client has managed to find some common ground with the plaintif. My learned friend and I were informed of this only a short while ago, but it would seem -’ Batri turned to the Ottoman barrister and raised a brow - ‘that a settlement has been reached?’

The Ottoman barrister nodded. ‘That’s my understanding also, my lord.’

A settlement. The thing clicked through my head like dominoes falling. If there’d been a settlement, that was the end of the case. If that was the end of the case, there’d be no more evidence. If there was no more evidence, I wouldn’t be sitting in the witness stand all afternoon trying to answer unanswerable questions about my old man and Sebastian. The relief of it almost made me puke.

The judge said, ‘A rather sudden change of heart, Mr Batri.'

Batri spouted some bollocks about the Mortlake Group having kept its door open to a settlement all along, but you could see the judge wasn’t really listening. His dark eyes bored right into me.

‘Would it be premature to enquire as to the nature of the settlement?' the judge asked.

The Ottoman barrister said, ‘My understanding is that the claim will be paid in full.’

My head snapped round. Payment in full? I couldn’t believe my ears; that was crazy. We’d had ups and downs through the case, but we hadn’t been crushed, not by a long shot. I looked at Clive but he kept his eyes firmly on the judge. When I turned to Max he shrugged like it was nothing to do with him.

There was a bit of talk then, between the judge and the barristers, fixing up a time to sort out costs and any other loose ends, but it was like background noise, completely unimportant.

The claim was going to be paid in full. The Ottoman barrister had set me up as the villain, the guy who conspired with Sebastian to take Ottoman’s insurance premium while never intending to pay out on a claim, and now the Mortlake Group had just folded. What it looked like, I realized, a cold feeling spreading in my gut, what it looked like was that Allen Mortlake had paid out in order to stop the Ottoman legal team from actually proving I’d done what they’d already implied that I’d done. It looked like he was protecting me.

‘Mr Collier,’ the judge said. He leant his weight on his forearms and peered at me down his nose. ‘It would appear we have no further need of your assistance. And notwithstanding Mr Batri’s protestations, I feel we are all indebted to you for this unexpected but welcome close to the case. This morning’s evidence seems to have had a most salutary effect on your employer. Thank you very much.’

‘All rise,’ said the clerk.

The judge disappeared out back, then the clerk, and around the courtroom everyone started talking. The solicitors on either side were already packing up their bundles of paper. No fireworks and no final bell, just a lot of suits packing up their briefcases. That was it. The case of Ottoman Air versus the Mortlake Group was suddenly over. 

And my name was dirt.

Stepping out rom behind the desk, I went across to Clive Wainwright. Head down, he said quietly, ‘Relieved?’

I waited till he looked up, then I said, ‘I’m not sure.’

Max Ward and Fielding were leaving the courtroom together. I didn’t much like the look of that either.

‘Clive, we shouldn’t have paid out.’

‘After this morning? Don’t kid yourself.’

‘You still don’t believe me.’

The stenographer finished packing up her portable PC, she went and spoke with Batri. Clive took me by the elbow and drew me aside. He lowered his voice.

‘It was Allen’s call, not mine. I recommended a fifty percent payout, but he wanted this case finished. The only way we could guarantee that was handing over the full whack. So that’s what we’ve done.’

‘But it looks like the reason he’s settled is to save my arse.’

‘Ian, he did save your arse. Who cares what it looks like?’

‘You’re telling me Allen’s decision to settle had nothing to do with protecting Justine?'

Clive gestured for me to keep my voice down.

‘Seriously,’ I said. The whole thing had taken me so much by surprise I was still trying to figure it out. Sure, I’d been spared an afternoon’s grilling by the Ottoman barrister, but when I thought about it, what more could he possibly have up his sleeve? He’d already pulled his big surprise. He’d have kept on about my old man owing Sebastian, and he’d have made it seem like I’d paid back the debt by making Justine sign for the Ottoman business. But once I'd simply told the court the truth — that I didn’t know about Dad’s debt, and that I hadn’t pressured Justine to do anything — what else could he have done? Made me look very stupid, I suppose. Maybe even made me look a liar. But what he couldn’t have done was brought the case to a close. And as long as the case continued there was a chance Justine’s relationship with Sebastian would be exposed. That wasn’t going to happen now that we’d settled. ‘Seriously, Clive. I mean this is pretty bloody convenient, don’t you think? Justine comes out of it like Snow White, and I’m left holding the baby. You see how that judge looked at me?’

The assisting solicitor came over to tell Clive that Batri wanted a word. Clive nodded and the bloke wandered off.

‘Listen,’ Clive said, glancing over his shoulder. But there was no-one within earshot. ‘This isn’t exactly the highlight of my career either. But Allen stopped the case. It’s over. Finito. Maybe because he was protecting Justine. Maybe you. I didn't ask, and it doesn’t matter.'

‘It matters to me.’

Clive looked at me like that was the naivest thing he ever heard.

I said, ‘He’s not going to give me the syndicate underwriter’s job now, is he.’

He reached out and patted my shoulder. ‘Justine’s his daughter. You don’t think he’s going to blame her for this fiasco, do you?’

‘She was fucking Sebastian.'

'If you want some advice, steer clear of Allen for a while.’

I felt my lists bunching, the frustration and anger bubbling up. ‘I didn’t do anything wrong. You know that.’

Clive picked up his briefcase. ‘From Allen’s point of view, Ian, you didn’t do much right. And I wouldn’t be thinking too much about promotion. The way Allen took it, you’re a cat’s whisker from being thrown out on your ear.’ He went across to join Batri. 

If Allen fired me now, after this, I’d never get another job in the insurance market. Every door in the City would slam shut in my face. It wouldn’t just be the penthouse and my deposit I'd lose. Without a job, I’d never pay back the mortgage I’d taken out on my flat. I’d lose everything I had, and also any chance I had of climbing back up the ladder. The past twelve years of my life would be rubbed clean off the slate. And unbelievably the cause of all this was that same guy who’d first turned my head at the Gallon, the guy who’d given me what I’d always thought of as my one big break. Sebastian bloody Ward.

Wainwright and Batri glanced my way, clearly discussing me. I’d been in freefall for a while, but now it occurred to me that the freefall was almost over. I was about to hit the earth.

‘Allen’s busy,’ his secretary told me.

Reaching for his door, I said, ‘I’ll just put my head in.’

‘He’s got Mr Crossland with him. And the Chairman.’

That stopped me. The Chairman of Lloyd’s, the head of the Council, otherwise known as God. If he was in there with Allen and Piers Crossland, they’d be discussing the merger. And they weren’t going to welcome an interruption from me. Backing away from the door now, I asked the secretary to give me a buzz when Allen was free.

‘I’ll be down on the box. just tell him I need to speak to him.’ I held up a hand, fingers spread, and told her pathetically, ‘I only need five minutes.’

She flipped through a pile of memos on her spike. ‘You had a message. Here.’ She tore it off and handed it to me.

Call Lee, it said. Urgent. And then Lee Chan’s number across the road in the 58 Building.

When I got over there Lee wasn’t at her desk. One of her colleagues pointed me out to the loading bay where the vanloads of paperwork came and went from the building. Lloyd’s produces tons of documents each year; it’s too expensive to store it all in the City so it gets piled up in some warehouse out in the sticks. A van makes the trip a couple of times a day, ferrying whatever’s needed into town, then back. Lee was out there by the loading bay waiting, glancing anxiously at her watch.

‘About time,' she said when she saw me. Then when I was closer, a look of surprise crossed her face. ‘You okay?’

‘I’ve just come from court.’

‘Ottoman?’

I gestured around. ‘What goes on? Your note said urgent.'

She was about to answer, but then the van pulled up, we stepped back. The driver opened the van doors, Lee went over and asked him for the box she’d ordered. He dragged out half a dozen while she crouched down beside them and read the labels, shaking her head each time.

Absorbed in the search, it was like she’d forgotten I was there. Her forehead was creased in concentration. With one hand, she held her black hair back over her ear and for a moment I saw her. I mean really saw her. Maybe it was the shock at the court, the chance of losing everything I’d worked for, or the news about Dad and Sebastian, I don’t know. Maybe it was just the feeling of my whole life caving in. Lee was flying out to Dublin for that conference the next day. From there she’d go straight on to the States. In three weeks she’d be married to some guy she didn’t even know, and me, I was just standing there with my hands in my pockets.