This Was a Man (The Clifton Chronicles 7)

“They’re not for sale,” said Richard, “and they never will be.”

“Three thousand?”

“No, thank you, sir.”

“Perhaps you’d consider a deal, Richard. If you were ever to give up my daughter, you’d sell the drawings back to me for two thousand pounds.”

“Sebastian!” said Samantha sharply. “Richard is Jessica’s friend, not a client, and in any case it’s outside banking hours.”

“Not a hope, sir,” said Richard. “I don’t intend to part with either your daughter or the drawings.”

“You can’t win them all, Pops,” said Jessica with a grin.

“But if Jessie were to give you up,” said Seb, as if he was chasing a million-pound deal, “would you reconsider then?”

“Forget it, Pops. That’s not going to happen. You’ve lost the drawings, and you’re about to lose your daughter, because I’m planning to move in with Richard,” she said, taking his hand.

Sebastian was about to suggest that perhaps … when Samantha jumped in.

“That’s wonderful news. Where will you be living?”

“I have a flat in Peckham,” said Richard, “quite near where I work.”

“But we’re looking for something bigger,” said Jessica.

“To rent, or buy?” asked Seb. “Because in current market conditions, I would recommend—”

“I would recommend,” said Samantha, “that they should be allowed to make up their own minds.”

“Much more sensible to buy,” said Seb, ignoring his wife, “and with my two thousand, you’d have enough to put down a deposit.”

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“Just ignore him,” said Samantha.

“I always do,” said Jessica, standing up. “Must dash, Pops, we’re off to the ICA to see an exhibition of ceramics Richard thinks looks promising.”

“And can still afford,” added Richard. “But if you do have two thousand to invest, sir, I would recommend—”

Samantha laughed, but Richard looked as if he was already regretting his words.

“Bye, Pops,” said Jessica. She bent down, kissed her father on the forehead, and slipped an envelope into his inside pocket, hoping Richard wouldn’t notice.

Richard thrust out his hand and said, “Goodbye, sir. It was nice to meet you.”

“Goodbye, Richard. I hope you enjoy the exhibition.”

“Thank you, sir,” said Richard as Samantha accompanied them both to the door.

While Seb waited for her to return, he took the envelope out of his pocket, opened it, and extracted his own check for a thousand pounds. First time he’d ever been outbid by the underbidder.

“I think I could have handled that better,” suggested Seb when Samantha returned to the drawing room.

“That’s an understatement, even by British standards. But I’m more interested in what you thought of Richard.”

“Nice enough chap. But no one will ever be good enough for Jessie.” He paused for a moment before adding, “I’ve been wondering what to give her for her twenty-first. Perhaps I ought to buy her a house?”

“That’s the last thing you’re going to do.”