This Was a Man (The Clifton Chronicles 7)
* * *
Clive Bingham had been delighted when Emma asked him to join the board of Barrington’s Shipping, and although it hadn’t been easy to take his father’s place as a director, he felt the company had benefited from his experience and expertise in the public relations field, which it had been sadly lacking until his appointment. Even so, he had no doubt what Sir Walter Barrington would have thought about a PR man joining the board: like a tradesman being invited to dinner.
Clive headed up his own PR company in the City, with a staff of eleven who had experienced several takeover battles in the past. But he admitted to Seb that he’d been losing sleep over this one.
“Why? There’s nothing particularly unusual about a family company being taken over. It’s been happening a lot recently.”
“I agree,” said Clive, “but this time it’s personal. Your mother had the confidence to invite me to join the board after my father resigned, and frankly it’s not as if I’m briefing the trade press on a new shipping route to the Bahamas, or the latest loyalty scheme, or even the building of a third liner. If I get this one wrong—”
“So far your briefings have been pitch perfect,” said Seb, “and Cunard’s latest bid is almost there. We know it, and they know it, so you couldn’t have done a more professional job.”
“It’s kind of you to say so, Seb, but I feel like a runner in the home straight. I can see the tape but there’s still one more hurdle to cross.”
“And you’ll do it in style.”
Clive hesitated a moment before he spoke again. “I’m not convinced your mother really wants to go ahead with the takeover.”
“You may well be right,” said Seb. “However, there is a compensation for her that you might not have considered.”
“Namely?”
“She’s becoming more and more involved with her work as chairman of the hospital, which, don’t forget, employs more people and has an even bigger budget than Barrington’s Shipping and, perhaps more important, no one can take it over.”
“But how do Giles and Grace feel? After all, they’re the majority shareholders.”
“They’ve left the final decision to her, which is probably why she asked me how I felt. And I didn’t leave her in any doubt that I’m a banker by nature, not a shipping man, and I’d rather
be chairman of Farthings Kaufman than of Barrington’s. It can’t have been easy for her, but she’s finally accepted that I couldn’t do both. If only I had a younger brother.”
“Or sister,” said Clive.
“Shh … or Jessica might start getting ideas.”
“She’s only thirteen.”
“I don’t think that would worry her.”
“How’s she settling down in her new school?”
“Her art teacher admitted she’s letting it be known before it becomes too obvious that the school has a third-former who’s already a better artist than she is.”
* * *
When Emma returned from the breakers’ yard late on Monday evening, she knew she had to tell Harry what Frank Gibson and his team had found when they prized open the Maple Leaf’s double bottom.
“It turned out be exactly as we’ve always feared,” she said as she sat down opposite Harry. “Even worse.”
“Worse?” repeated Harry.
She bowed her head. “Arthur had scratched a message on the side of the double bottom.” She paused, but couldn’t get the words out.
“You don’t have to tell me,” said Harry, taking her hand.
“I do. Otherwise we’ll just go on living a lie for the rest of our lives.” It was some time before she managed, “He’d written, ‘Stan was right. Sir Hugo knew I was trapped down here’ … So, my father murdered your father,” she said between sobs.
It was some time before Harry said, “That’s something we can never be sure about, and perhaps, my darling, it’s better we don’t—”
“I no longer want to know. But the poor man should at least have a Christian burial. Your mother would have expected nothing less.”