As the Crow Flies

“If you do not comply with this request,” said Mr. Baverstock, “it is her intention to circulate all the shareholders with the offer and then call an extraordinary general meeting at which she will personally present her case and bring the issue to a vote.”

“Can she do that?” For the first time Charlie sounded worried.

“From everything I know about that lady, I suspect she wouldn’t have thrown down such a gauntlet before taking legal advice.”

“It’s almost as if she can always anticipate our next move,” said Becky with feeling.

Charlie’s voice revealed the same anxiety. “She wouldn’t need to bother about our next move if her son was on the board. He could just report back to her direct after every meeting.”

“So what it comes to is that we may well have to give in to her demands,” said Becky.

“I agree with your judgment, Lady Trumper,” said Mr. Baverstock. “However, I felt it was only proper that I should give you as much notice as possible of Mrs. Trentham’s demands as it will be my painful duty to acquaint the board with the details when we next meet.”

There was only one “apology for absence” when the board met the following Tuesday. Simon Matthews had to be in Geneva to conduct a rare gems sale and Charlie had assured him that his presence would not be vital. Once Mr. Baverstock had finished explaining the consequences of Mrs. Trentham’s offer to the board, everyone around the table wanted to speak at once.

When Charlie had restored some semblance of order, he said, “I must make my position clear from the outset. I am one hundred percent against this offer. I don’t trust the lady in question and never have. What’s more, I believe that in the long term her only purpose is to harm the company.”

“But, surely, Mr. Chairman,” said Paul Merrick, “if she is considering selling her land in Chelsea Terrace to the highest bidder, she could always use the cash from that sale to purchase another ten percent of the company’s shares at any time that suited her. So what real choice are we left with?”

“Not having to live with her son,” said Charlie. “Don’t forget, part of this package means offering him a place on the board.”

“But if he were in possession of ten percent of the company,” said Paul Merrick, “and perhaps an even higher stake for all we know, it would be nothing less than our duty to accept him as a director.”

“Not necessarily,” said Charlie. “Especially if we believed his sole reason for joining the board was eventually to take over the company. The last thing we need is a hostile director.”

“The last thing we need is to pay more than is necessary for a hole in the ground.”

For a moment no one spoke

while the rest of the board considered these contrary statements.

“Let’s assume for one moment,” said Tim Newman, “the consequences of not accepting Mrs. Trentham’s terms but instead bidding for the empty plot ourselves on the open market. That mightn’t prove to be the cheapest route, Sir Charles, because I can assure you that Sears, Boots, the House of Fraser and the John Lewis Partnership—to name but four—would derive considerable pleasure from opening a new store right in the middle of Trumper’s.”

“Rejecting her offer may therefore turn out to be even more expensive in the long run, whatever your personal views are of the lady, Mr. Chairman,” said Merrick. “In any case, I have another piece of information that the board may feel is relevant to this discussion.”

“What’s that?” asked Charlie, warily.

“My fellow directors may be interested to know,” began Merrick rather pompously, “that Nigel Trentham has just been made redundant by Kitcat and Aitken, which is simply a euphemism for being sacked. It seems he’s not proved up to the task in these leaner times. So I can’t imagine his presence around this table is likely to provide us with a great deal of anxiety now or at any time in the future.”

“But he could still keep his mother briefed on every move we make,” said Charlie.

“Perhaps she needs to know how well the knickers are selling on the seventh floor?” suggested Merrick. “Not to mention the trouble we had with that burst water main in the gents’ lavatory last month. No, Chairman, it would be foolish, even irresponsible, not to accept such an offer.”

“As a matter of interest, Mr. Chairman, what would you do with the extra space, should Trumper’s suddenly get hold of Mrs. Trentham’s land?” asked Daphne, throwing everyone off balance for a moment.

“Expand,” said Charlie. “We’re already bulging at the seams. That piece of land would mean at least fifty thousand square feet. If I could only get my hands on it it would be possible for me to open another twenty departments.”

“And what would such a building program cost?” Daphne continued.

“A lot of money,” Paul Merrick interjected, “which we may not have at our disposal if we are made to pay well over the odds for that vacant site in the first place.”

“May I remind you that we’re having an exceptionally good year,” said Charlie, banging the table.

“Agreed, Mr. Chairman. But may I also remind you, that when you last made a similar statement, within five years you were facing bankruptcy.”

“But that was caused by an unexpected war,” insisted Charlie.

“And this isn’t,” said Merrick. The two men stared at each other, unable to disguise their mutual loathing. “Our first duty must always be to the shareholders,” continued Merrick, as he looked around the boardroom table. “If they were to find out that we had paid an excessive amount for that piece of land simply because of—and I put this as delicately as I can—a personal vendetta between the principals, we could be heavily censured at the next AGM and you, Mr. Chairman, might even be called on to resign.”