Be Careful What You Wish For (The Clifton Chronicles 4)
“I hope I’m not late,” were Mr. Morita’s first words as he shook hands with Cedric.
“Bang on time,” said Cedric.
“And you,” said Morita, looking at Arnold, “can only be the unworthy son of a great father.”
“That’s me, sir,” said Arnold as they shook hands.
“Have you prepared the contracts?”
“I have indeed, sir.”
“Then all you’ll need is my signature, and then Father can get on with his work.” Arnold took the contracts back out of his Gladstone bag and laid them out on the desk. “But before I sign, I have a gift for my new friend, Sebastian Clifton, which is why I had to leave the hotel so early this morning.”
Mr. Ono stepped forward and handed a small box to Mr. Morita, who in turn gave it to Sebastian.
“Not always a good boy but, as the British say, his heart is in the right place.”
Sebastian said no
thing as he untied the red ribbon and removed the silver paper before lifting the box’s lid. He took out a tiny vase glazed in crimson and yellow. He couldn’t take his eyes off it.
“You’re not looking for a lawyer, by any chance?” asked Arnold.
“Only if you can name the potter without looking at the base.”
Sebastian handed the vase to Arnold, who took his time admiring how the red ran into the yellow, creating orange streaks, before he ventured an opinion. “Bernard Leach?”
“This son is of some use after all,” said Morita.
Both men laughed, as Arnold handed the exquisite piece back to Sebastian, who said, “I don’t know how to thank you, sir.”
“But when you do, be sure to deliver your speech in my native tongue.”
Sebastian was so taken by surprise, he nearly dropped the vase. “I’m not sure I understand, sir.”
“Of course you do, and should you fail to respond in Japanese, I will be left with no choice but to present this vase to the son of Cedric.”
Everyone waited for Sebastian to speak. “Arigatou gozaimasu. Taihenni kouei desu. Isshou taisetsuni itashimasu.”
“Most impressive. Needs a little attention to the finer brush strokes, unlike your sister’s work, but impressive all the same.”
“But how, Morita-san, did you work out that I could speak your language when I’ve never said a word of Japanese in your presence?”
“Three tickets for My Fair Lady would be my bet,” said Cedric.
“Mr. Hardcastle is a shrewd man, which was why I selected him to represent me in the first place.”
“But how?” repeated Sebastian.
“The tickets were too much of a coincidence,” said Morita. “Think about it, Sebastian, while I get on with signing the contract.” He removed a fountain pen from his top pocket and handed it to Cedric. “You must sign first, otherwise the gods will not bless our union.”
Morita watched as Cedric signed all three contracts, before adding his own signature. Both men bowed and then shook hands.
“I have to rush to the airport and take a plane to Paris. The French are causing me many problems.”
“What kind of problems?” asked Arnold.
“Nothing you can help me with, sadly. I have forty thousand transistor radios sitting in a bonded warehouse. The French customs are refusing to allow me to distribute them to my suppliers until every box has been opened and inspected. At the moment, they are managing two a day. The idea is to hold me up as long as possible, so that French manufacturers will be able to sell their inferior product to impatient customers. But I have a plan to defeat them.”