“I’m not following you, Ross.”
“Which is a good thing, chairman, because you’d only end up in the deep rough. Equally importantly, Gullane is on the south shore of the Firth, where the trout are about to discover I’m back with a vengeance.”
“So am I to understand there’s nothing I can say to persuade you to stay on the board?”
“Not a hope. You’ve already had my letter of resignation, and if I’m not on the Flying Scotsman this evening I don’t know which one of us Jean will kill first.”
“You I can handle, but not Jean. Does that mean you’ve closed the deal on that idyllic cottage you told me about?”
“Almost,” said Ross. “I still have to sell my flat in Edinburgh before I can sign the contract.”
“Please give Jean my love and tell her how grateful I am that she allowed you to come out of retirement for five months. Have a wonderful time in Burma, and thank you once again.” Ross was about to shake hands with the chairman when Hakim threw his arms around him and gave him a bear hug, something the Scotsman had never experienced before.
Once Ross had left, Hakim walked across to the window and waited until he saw him leave the building and hail a taxi. He then returned to his desk and asked his secretary to get Mr. Vaughan of Savills on the line.
“Mr. Bishara, good to hear from you. Can I possibly interest you in a duplex flat in Mayfair, prime location, excellent park views—”
“No, Mr. Vaughan, you cannot. But you could sell me a flat in Edinburgh that I know has been on your books for several months.”
“We’ve already got a bid for Mr. Buchanan’s property in Argyll Street, but it’s still a couple of thousand shy of the asking price.”
“Fine, then take it off the market, sell it to the underbidder and I’ll cover the shortfall.”
“We’re talking a couple of thousand pounds, Mr. Bishara.”
“Cheap at double the price,” said Hakim.
GILES BARRINGTON
1976–1977
39
THE GOVERNOR’S OFFICE
June 12th, 1976
Dear Lord Barrington
You may not remember me but we met some twelve years ago, on the Buckingham’s maiden voyage to New York. At that time I was a congressman for the eleventh district of Louisiana, better known as Baton Rouge. Since then, I’ve become State Governor, and have recently been reelected to serve a second term. May I congratulate you on your own return to the Cabinet as Leader of the Lords.
I’m writing to let you know that I will be in London for a few days toward the end of July, and wondered if you could spare the time to see me on a private matter, concerning a close friend, constituent and major backer of my party.
My friend had an unfortunate experience with a certain Lady Virginia Fenwick when visiting London some five years ago, who I subsequently discovered is your former wife. The matter I wish to seek your advice on does not reflect well on Lady Virginia, with whom you may still be on good terms. If that is the case, I will of course understand, and will seek to resolve the problem in some other way.
I look forward to hearing from you.
Yours sincerely
The Honorable Hayden Rankin
Giles remembered the governor only too well. His shrewd advice and discretion had helped to avert a major catastrophe when the IRA attempted to sink the Buckingham on her maiden voyage, and he certainly hadn’t forgotten Hayden Rankin’s parting words on the subject, “You owe me one.”
Giles wrote back immediately to say he would be delighted to see Hayden when he was in London. Not least—which he didn’t say in his letter—because he couldn’t wait to find out how his ex-wife could possibly have come across one of the governor of Louisiana’s closest friends. And it might also finally solve the mystery of little Freddie.
He was delighted that Hayden had been reelected for a second term but didn’t feel as confident about his own party’s chances of success at the next election, even though he wasn’t willing to admit as much, especially to Emma.
Following the surprise resignation of Harold Wilson in April 1976, the new prime minister, Jim Callaghan, had asked Giles to once again take charge of the marginal seat campaign, and for the past two months he had been visiting constituencies as far-flung as Aberdeen and Plymouth. When Callaghan asked Giles for his realistic assessment of what the next election result would be, he had warned “Lucky Jim” that they might not be quite as lucky this time.