This Was A Man (47 page)

‘When Mr Kaufman arrives, Tom, would you ask him to drop into my office before the board meeting?’

‘Of course, sir,’ said the doorman, as he saluted the chairman.

Seb made his way quickly across the lobby to the lifts. Although eight hadn’t yet struck, when he stepped out at the top floor, John Ashley and Arnold Hardcastle were already waiting for
him in the corridor.

‘Good morning, gentlemen,’ said Seb, striding past them and into his office. ‘Please, have a seat. I thought we should discuss tactics before Victor arrives – assuming he
does arrive. Let’s start with you, John. Any further news?’

Ashley opened a file that was becoming thicker by the day. ‘The cheque for £320,000 has been presented. However, Mr Vaughan has agreed that we needn’t clear it immediately as
we’re still within the settlement period.’

‘That’s considerate of him,’ said Seb, ‘but then we have been a reliable customer for many years. What do you think we should do, John, if Victor fails to turn
up?’

‘Call in Barry Hammond and instruct him to track Victor down wherever he is, because I’ve no doubt he’ll also find the girl there too.’

‘That has its own risks,’ suggested Arnold.

‘Outweighed, in my opinion,’ said John, ‘by the consequences of allowing her to milk Victor dry.’

‘An unfortunate metaphor,’ said Seb, checking his watch. ‘He’s cutting it fine.’

There was a gentle tap on the door and all three of them looked up expectantly. The door opened and Rachel entered the chairman’s office.

‘Some of the directors have already arrived and are waiting for you in the boardroom,’ said his secretary as she handed a copy of the agenda to Seb.

‘Is Mr Kaufman among them, Rachel?’

‘No, chairman, I haven’t seen him this morning.’

‘Then I suggest we join our colleagues,’ said Seb, after glancing at the agenda. ‘I propose that we say nothing about Miss Lombardo until we’ve had a chance to speak to
Victor privately.’

‘Agreed,’ said the CEO and the bank’s legal advisor in unison.

All three men rose without another word, made their way out of the chairman’s office and headed for the boardroom, where they joined their colleagues.

‘Good morning, Giles,’ said Seb, who hadn’t called his uncle by his first name until he’d become chairman. ‘Am I to understand that you and my mother are no longer
on speaking terms, now the NHS bill has been given its first reading?’

‘That is correct, chairman. The only discourse we will have in the future is across the despatch box.’

Seb smiled, but couldn’t stop himself from continually glancing towards the door. The other directors took their places around the boardroom table but the chair at the far end of the room
remained unoccupied. Like his mother, Seb believed in starting board meetings on time. He checked his watch. One minute to nine. He took his seat at the head of the table and said, ‘Good
morning, gentlemen. I will ask the company secretary to read the minutes of the last meeting.’

Mr Whitford rose from his place on the right of the chairman and delivered the minutes as if he were reading the lesson at his local church.

Seb tried to concentrate but kept glancing in the direction of the door, although he wasn’t hopeful, as he’d never known Victor to be late for a board meeting. When Mr Whitford sat
down, Seb forgot to ask his fellow directors if they had any questions. He simply mumbled, ‘Item number one,’ and was about to call on the chief executive to present his monthly report
when the boardroom door was flung open and a flustered deputy chairman rushed in.

Even before he’d taken his seat, Victor said, ‘I apologize, chairman. My flight was delayed because of fog. We must have passed over this building a dozen times before we were
allowed to land.’

‘It’s not a problem, Victor,’ said Seb calmly. ‘You’ve only missed the reading of the minutes of the last meeting, and I was about to move on to item number one,
the government’s new banking regulations. John?’

Ashley opened a file and looked down at the copious notes he had prepared and the precis he was about to share with his colleagues. ‘It seems that bankers,’ he began, ‘are now
ranked alongside estate agents and Members of Parliament as the least trusted members of the community.’

‘Then all I have to do is become an estate agent,’ said Giles, ‘and I’ll have managed all three.’

‘What’s the bottom line?’ said Seb, after the laughter had died down.

‘We can expect further scrutiny into the bank’s daily affairs, and far tougher inspections from the regulatory bodies, along with a string of new regulations. Geoffrey Howe is
determined to show he’s a new broom cleaning up the City.’

‘Conservative governments always are, but it’s usually forgotten after a few well-chosen homilies from the chancellor at the lord mayor’s banquet.’

Seb found his mind drifting again, as the directors began to voice their predictable views, the one exception being Giles, who even now he could never second-guess. He snapped back to the real
world when he realized his fellow directors were all staring at him.

‘Item number two?’ prompted the company secretary.

‘Item number two,’ said Seb. ‘Lord Barrington has just returned from Rome, and I believe he has some rather exciting news to share with us. Giles?’

Giles briefed the board on his recent visit to the Eternal City, where he’d held meetings with Mr Menegatti, the chairman of the Cassaldi Bank, with a view to the two institutions forming
a long-term partnership. His report was followed by a discussion among the directors, which Seb summed up with the recommendation that Giles, along with a select team, should take the discussions
to the next stage and find out if a substantive proposal for a merger could be agreed on that both chairmen would feel able to recommend to their boards.

‘Congratulations, Giles,’ said Seb. ‘We’ll look forward to your next report. Perhaps now we should move on to item number three.’ But his mind began to wander again
as he considered the only item that would be on the agenda when he later had a private meeting with his deputy chairman. Although he had to admit that Victor looked a damn sight more relaxed than
he felt.

Seb was relieved when the company secretary finally asked, ‘Any other business?’

‘Yes,’ announced Victor, from the far end of the table. Seb raised an eyebrow. ‘Some of my colleagues may have been wondering where I’ve been for the past ten days, and I
feel I owe you all an explanation.’ Certainly three of the directors agreed with him.

‘When I became deputy chairman,’ Victor continued, ‘among the responsibilities the chairman gave me was to look into how the bank dealt with its charitable donations. I’m
bound to say I assumed that would not be a demanding task. However, I couldn’t have been more wrong. I quickly discovered that the bank simply doesn’t have a policy, and that by the
standards of our competitors we’re not only found wanting but, frankly, mean. I would not have realized just how mean if Lady Barrington hadn’t approached me to ask for the bank’s
support when she was running the marathon. When she produced her list of sponsors, I felt ashamed. She’d raised more money from Barclays, Nat West and Dr Grace Barrington than she managed
from Farthings Kaufman. That also caused me to take a greater interest in the charity she was supporting.’

The deputy chairman had captured the attention of the entire board.

‘The charity concerned sends missions to Africa where its distinguished heart surgeon, Dr Magdi Yacoub, operates on young children who would otherwise have no hope of survival.’

‘What exactly is a mission?’ asked Mr Whitford, who had been writing down the deputy chairman’s every word.

‘A mission comprises five people – a surgeon, a doctor, two nurses and a manager, all of whom give their services for nothing, often sacrificing their holidays to carry out this
vital work. Lady Barrington suggested I meet a Miss Candice Lombardo, who is an active member of the charity’s board, so I invited her to join me for dinner.’ Victor smiled at the
chairman.

‘Why do I know that name?’ asked the company secretary.

‘Miss Lombardo,’ said Clive Bingham, ‘was voted the most desirable woman on the planet by the readers of
GQ
magazine and, if the tabloids are to be believed,
she’s currently having a fling with Omar Sharif.’

‘I have no idea if that’s true,’ said Victor. ‘All I can tell you is that when we had dinner, it quickly became clear how committed she was to the cause. Miss Lombardo
invited me to join her on a trip to Egypt to witness first-hand the work Dr Yacoub and his team were carrying out in that country. That’s where I’ve been for the past ten days,
chairman. And I confess, I spent much of my time either fainting or being sick.’

‘The deputy chairman fainted?’ said Clive in disbelief.

‘On more than one occasion. I can assure you, watching a young child having their chest cut open isn’t for the fainthearted. By the time I got on the plane to come home, I was
resolved to do more, a great deal more. As a result of that trip, I will be recommending to the board that we take on the role of being the charity’s bankers, with no charges. I have already
agreed to become its honorary treasurer.’

‘To use your words, a great deal more,’ said Seb. ‘What else can the bank do to help?’

‘We could start by making a substantial contribution to the Marsden charitable trust, so they can continue their work without having to live from hand to mouth.’

‘Do you have a sum in mind?’ asked Giles.

‘Half a million a year for the next five years.’ There were one or two gasps from around the table before Victor continued, ‘Which I know the board will be pleased to learn
qualifies for forty per cent tax relief.’

‘How do you think our shareholders will react to us giving such a large amount to charity?’ asked John Ashley.

‘If Mr Kaufman were to address the AGM,’ suggested Seb, ‘I suspect they’d say it isn’t enough.’

One or two of the board members nodded, while others smiled.

‘But we would still have to explain how the money is being spent,’ said the company secretary. ‘After all, that would be no more than our fiduciary duty.’

‘I agree,’ said Victor, ‘and if I am allowed to address our shareholders on the subject at the AGM, I’m sure I wouldn’t need to remind them that recently the bank
made over eleven million pounds on the Harrods takeover by Mr Al Fayed. However, I must confess that without the board’s approval, I made a down payment on a property in South Parade behind
the Royal Marsden, so the charity can set up its headquarters near the hospital. I was able to pick it up at a knock-down price, because the premises had previously been used by an escort
agency.’

‘Why didn’t you give the board advance notice of the purchase?’ asked Seb. ‘A phone call would have been quite sufficient, so our executive directors could have discussed
your proposal before today’s board meeting. Instead, you appear to have presented us with a fait accompli.’

‘I apologize, chairman, but I failed to mention that Princess Diana, a friend of Dr Yacoub’s, was also on the trip to Egypt, and we were asked by her security team not to reveal our
location or the names of anyone else on the trip.’

‘Quite right,’ said Giles. ‘We don’t need to telegraph the IRA.’

‘And I assumed,’ continued Victor, looking directly at Seb, ‘that if a real emergency were to arise, you wouldn’t have hesitated to call my wife, the one person who knew
exactly where I was.’

Three of the directors nodded in agreement.

‘Finally,’ said Victor, ‘I know you’ll all be delighted to hear that Professor Yacoub will be holding a press conference at the Marsden next Thursday to announce that
Princess Diana has agreed to be the charity’s patron.’

‘Bravo,’ said Clive. ‘That can only be good for the bank’s image.’

‘That’s not my sole purpose for wanting to support such a worthwhile cause,’ said Victor sharply.

‘Possibly not,’ said Arnold, ‘but while the chancellor is still thrashing about, it won’t do us any harm.’

‘Perhaps you’d write up a proposal for our consideration at next month’s board meeting,’ said Seb, ‘and distribute it early enough for us to give it some serious
thought.’

‘I drafted an outline summary while I was circling above you this morning, chairman, and once I’ve completed it, I’ll send copies to all board members.’

Several directors were nodding, as Victor closed the file in front of him.

‘Thank you,’ said Seb. ‘Now all we have to decide is the date of the next meeting.’

Diaries were consulted and, once a date had been agreed, Seb brought the meeting to a close.

‘Could you spare me a moment, Victor,’ he said, as he gathered up his papers.

‘Of course, chairman.’ Victor followed Seb out of the room, down the corridor and into the chairman’s office. He was just about to close the door behind him when he noticed
that John Ashley and Arnold Hardcastle were following close behind.

Once all four of them were seated around the oval table, Seb tentatively began by saying, ‘One or two of us became quite concerned, Victor, when during your absence three cheques were
presented for clearance by a Miss Lombardo, whom Arnold, John and I had never heard of.’

‘Never heard of?’ said Victor. ‘Which planet have you been living on?’

When none of them attempted to defend themselves, the penny dropped.

‘Ah,’ he said, looking like a man who had a straight flush, ‘so you all assumed—’

‘Well, you must try to see it from our perspective,’ said Arnold defensively.

‘And to be fair,’ said Victor, ‘I don’t suppose Miss Lombardo makes the front page of the
FT
that often.’

The other three directors burst out laughing.

‘I confess I didn’t have the board’s approval to purchase the building and, fearing that we might lose it while it was still at such a low price, I allowed Miss Lombardo to
open an account, which I guaranteed.’

‘But that doesn’t explain the five thousand pounds she paid for a mink coat from Harrods,’ said John Ashley, a little sheepishly.

‘A birthday present for Ruth that I didn’t want her to know about. By the way, is that why you were trying to get in touch with me?’