This Was a Man (The Clifton Chronicles 7)

“Isn’t she a bit young?” said Harry.

“She’s sixteen going on twenty,” Seb reminded his father.

“Have you met him?” asked Emma.

“No. In fact, we’re not even meant to know about him,” said Sam. “But when I was tidying her room the other day, I couldn’t avoid seeing a drawing of a handsome young man on the wall beside her bed, where a poster of Duran Duran used to be.”

“I still miss my daughter,” said Harry wistfully.

“There are times when I’d be only too happy to give you mine,” said Seb. “Last week I caught her trying to slip out of the house wearing a mini skirt, pink lipstick, and high heels. I sent her back upstairs to remove the lipstick and change. She locked herself in her room and hasn’t spoken to me since.”

“What do you know about the boy?” asked Harry.

“We think his name is Steve, and we know he’s the captain of the school football team,” said Sam. “So I suspect Jessica is waiting in a long queue.”

“I don’t think Jessie does queues,” said Grace.

“And my other grandchild?” asked Emma.

“Jake’s now walking without actually falling over,” said Sam, “and spends most of his time heading for the nearest exit, so frankly he’s a handful. I’ve put on hold any idea of going back to work for the time being, as I can’t bear the thought of handing over the little fellow to a nanny.”

“I admire you for that,” said Emma. “I sometimes wonder if I should have made the same decision.”

“I agree,” said Seb, leaning on the marble fireplace. “I’m a classic example of someone who had a deprived upbringing, and ended up depraved.”

“Gee, Officer Krupke,” said Harry.

“I had no idea you were that with it, Dad,” said Seb.

“I took your mother to see West Side Story at the Bristol Old Vic on our wedding anniversary. And if you haven’t seen it, you should.”

“Seen it,” said Seb. “Farthings Kaufman is the show’s biggest backer.”

“I’d never thought of you as an angel,” said Harry. “And I certainly didn’t see any mention of it in your latest portfolio report.”

“I put half a million of our clients’ money into the show, but considered it too high a risk for the family, even though I had a dabble myself.”

“So we missed out,” said Grace.

“Mea culpa,” admitted Seb. “You ended up with a 7.9 percent annual return on your capital, while my other clients managed 8.4 percent. West Side Story turned out to be a slam-dunker, to quote the American producer, who keeps sending me a check every quarter.”

“Perhaps you’ll put us into your next show,” said Emma.

“There isn’t going to be a next show, Mama. It didn’t take much research to discover I’d been blessed with beginner’s luck. Seven West End shows out of ten lose every penny for their investors. One in ten just about breaks even, one makes a worthwhile return, and only one in a hundred doubles its money, and they’re usually the ones you can’t get into. So I’ve decided to quit show business while I’m ahead.”

“Aaron Guinzburg tells me the next big hit will be something called Little Shop of Horrors,” said Harry.

“Farthings won’t be investing in a horror show,” said Seb.

“Why not?” said Emma. “After all, you tried to invest in Mellor Travel.”

“Still am,” admitted Sebastian.

“So what did you invest in?” asked Emma.

“ICI, Royal Dutch Shell, British Airways, and Cunard. The only risk I took on your behalf was to buy a few shares in a fledgling bus company called Stagecoach, and you’ll be pleased to know one of the founders is a woman.”

“And they’ve already shown a good return,” said Harry.