* * *
Dick’s plane touched down at Heathrow three and a half hours later. Once he had picked up his case from the carousel, he pushed his trolley through the ‘Nothing to Declare’ channel and emerged into the arrivals hall.
Stan, his driver, was already waiting among a group of chauffeurs. Most of them were holding up name cards. As soon as Stan spotted his boss, he walked quickly across and took his suitcase and overnight bag.
‘Home or the office?’ Stan asked Dick as they walked towards the short-stay car park.
Dick checked his watch – it was just after four. ‘Home,’ he said. ‘I’ll work in the back of the car.’
* * *
Once Dick’s Jaguar had come out of the car park to begin the journey home to Virginia Wate
r, Dick immediately called his office.
‘Richard Barnsley’s office,’ said a voice.
‘Hi, Jill, it’s me. I managed to catch an earlier flight, and I’m on my way home. Is there anything I should be worrying about?’
‘No, everything is running smoothly this end,’ Jill replied. ‘We’re all just waiting to find out how things went in St Petersburg.’
‘Could not have gone better. The minister wants me back on May sixteenth to sign the contract.’
‘But that’s less than three weeks away.’
‘Which means we will all have to get a move on. So set up a board meeting for early next week, and then make an appointment for me to see Sam Cohen first thing tomorrow morning. I can’t afford any slip-ups at this stage.’
‘Can I come to St Petersburg with you?’
‘Not this time, Jill, but once the contract has been signed, block out ten days in the diary. Then I’ll take you somewhere a little warmer than St Petersburg.’
Dick sat silently in the back of the car, going over everything that needed to be covered before he returned to St Petersburg. By the time Stan drove through the wrought-iron gates and came to a halt outside the mansion, Dick knew what had to be done.
He jumped out of the car and ran into the house. He left Stan to unload the bags, and his housekeeper to unpack them. Dick was surprised not to find his wife standing on the top step, waiting to greet him, but then he remembered that he had caught an earlier flight, and Maureen would not be expecting him back for at least another couple of hours.
Dick ran upstairs to his bedroom, and quickly stripped off his clothes, dropping them in a pile on the floor. He went into the bathroom and turned on the shower, allowing the warm jets of water to slowly remove the grime of St Petersburg and Aeroflot.
After he had put on some casual clothes, Dick checked his appearance in the mirror. At fifty-three, his hair was turning grey early, and although he tried to hold his stomach in, he knew he ought to lose a few pounds, just a couple of notches on his belt – he would once the deal was signed and he had a little more time, he promised himself.
Dick left the bedroom and went down to the kitchen. He asked the cook to prepare him a salad, and then strolled into the drawing room, picked up The Times, and glanced at the headlines. A new leader of the Tory Party, a new leader of the Liberal Democrats, and now Gordon Brown had been elected leader of the Labour Party. None of the major political parties would be fighting the next election under the same leader.
Dick looked up when the phone began to ring. He walked across to his wife’s writing desk and picked up the receiver, to hear Jill’s voice on the other end of the line.
‘The board meeting is fixed for next Thursday at ten o’clock, and I’ve also arranged for you to see Sam Cohen in his office at eight tomorrow morning,’ Jill said over the phone. Dick removed a pen from an inside pocket of his blazer. ‘I’ve emailed every member of the board to warn them that it’s important,’ she added.
‘What time did you say my meeting was with Sam?’
‘Eight o’clock at his office. He has to be in court by ten for another client.’
‘Fine.’ Dick opened his wife’s drawer and grabbed the first piece of paper available. He wrote down, Sam, office, 8, Thur board mtg, 10.
‘Well done, Jill,’ he added. ‘Better book me back into the Grand Palace Hotel, and email the minister to warn him what time I’ll be arriving.’
‘I already have,’ Jill replied, ‘and I’ve also booked you on a flight to St Petersburg on the Friday afternoon.’
‘Well done. See you around ten tomorrow.’ Dick put the phone down, and strolled through to his study with a large smile on his face. Everything was going to plan.
* * *