This Was a Man (The Clifton Chronicles 7)
“His wife.”
“Absolutely not,” said Seb. “Ruth is the last person I want contacted under any circumstances.”
“In which case, chairman,” said Arnold, “we have no choice but to clear the latest check within forty-eight hours, unless you want me to report the whole matter to the Bank of England and ask if we can hold up any further payments until Victor returns.”
“No, allowing the Old Lady of Threadneedle Street to wash our dirty linen in public would be worse than telling Ruth. Clear the check, and let’s hope Miss Lombardo doesn’t present another one before Victor shows up.”
* * *
“She’s what?” said Sebastian.
“Pregnant,” repeated Samantha.
“I’ll kill him.”
“You’ll do nothing of the sort. In fact, when you next see Richard, you’ll congratulate him.”
“Congratulate him?”
“Yes, and leave them both in no doubt how delighted you are.”
“Why the hell would I do that?”
“Because the alternative doesn’t bear thinking about. To lose your daughter and never be able to see your grandchild. Just in case you’ve forgotten, you’ve experienced something similar before, and I don’t need to go through that again.”
“Are they going to get married?” asked Sebastian, changing tack.
“I didn’t ask.”
“Why not?”
“Because it’s none of my business. Anyway, I’m sure they’ll let us know when they’re good and ready.”
“You’re being very calm, in the circumstances.”
“Of course I am. I’m looking forward to being a grandmother.”
“Oh my God,” said Seb. “I’m going to be a grandfather.”
“And to think The FT described you as one of the sharpest minds in the City!”
Sebastian grinned, took his wife in his arms, and said, “I sometimes forget, my darling, how lucky I am to have married you.” He switched on the light on his side of the bed and sat up. “We ought to give my mother a call and warn her she’s about to become a great-grandmother.”
“She already knows.”
“So was I the last person to be told?”
“Sorry. I needed to get all the troops on side before you heard the news.”
“This just hasn’t been my week,” said Seb, turning the light out.
* * *
“I’ve found out what the forty-two thousand pounds was for, chairman,” said John Ashley.
“I’m all ears,” said Seb.
“It’s a down payment on a building in South Parade that used to be an escort agency.”