This Was a Man (The Clifton Chronicles #7)

‘I should be careful if I were you, Giles,’ said Karin. ‘I suspect that having served as the chairman of a major hospital, Emma just might be better informed about the health service than you are.’


‘Ah, but you forget the debate won’t be taking place in a hospital boardroom, but on the floor of the House of Lords where I’ve been lying in wait for some time.’

‘Perhaps you’d be wise to heed Grace’s warning,’ said Karin, ‘that Emma might trip you up on the details, because unlike most politicians she’s actually been at the coalface.’

‘I do believe you’re a closet Tory,’ said Giles.

‘I most certainly am not,’ said Karin. ‘I came out of the closet years ago, and it was Emma who converted me.’

‘Traitor.’

‘Not at all. I fell in love with you, not the Labour Party.’

‘For better or worse.’

‘Worse in that particular case.’

‘I’m sorry to interrupt you, but I only wanted to know the meaning of the word “martinet”.’

‘Ignore Giles,’ said Karin. ‘He’s always the same just before a major debate, especially when his sister’s involved.’

‘Can I come and watch?’ asked Freddie.

‘Depends which party you’re going to support,’ said Giles.

‘The party that convinces me it has the better policy.’

‘That’s original,’ said Karin.

‘Perhaps now’s not the time to tell you that I’ve joined the Young Conservatives,’ said Freddie.

‘You’ve done what?’ asked Giles, reeling back and clinging on to the mantelpiece.

‘And it gets worse.’

‘How can it possibly get worse?’

‘We’ve just held a mock election at school, and I stood as the Tory candidate.’

‘And what was the result?’ demanded Giles.

‘You don’t want to know.’

‘He not only won by a landslide,’ said Karin, ‘but he now wants to follow in your footsteps and become a Member of Parliament. Just a pity he won’t be sitting on your side of the House.’

A silence followed that few government ministers had ever managed to impose upon the Rt Hon. the Lord Barrington of Bristol Docklands.





‘When Mr Kaufman arrives, Tom, would you ask him to drop into my office before the board meeting?’

‘Of course, sir,’ said the doorman, as he saluted the chairman.

Seb made his way quickly across the lobby to the lifts. Although eight hadn’t yet struck, when he stepped out at the top floor, John Ashley and Arnold Hardcastle were already waiting for him in the corridor.

‘Good morning, gentlemen,’ said Seb, striding past them and into his office. ‘Please, have a seat. I thought we should discuss tactics before Victor arrives – assuming he does arrive. Let’s start with you, John. Any further news?’

Ashley opened a file that was becoming thicker by the day. ‘The cheque for £320,000 has been presented. However, Mr Vaughan has agreed that we needn’t clear it immediately as we’re still within the settlement period.’

‘That’s considerate of him,’ said Seb, ‘but then we have been a reliable customer for many years. What do you think we should do, John, if Victor fails to turn up?’

‘Call in Barry Hammond and instruct him to track Victor down wherever he is, because I’ve no doubt he’ll also find the girl there too.’

‘That has its own risks,’ suggested Arnold.

‘Outweighed, in my opinion,’ said John, ‘by the consequences of allowing her to milk Victor dry.’

‘An unfortunate metaphor,’ said Seb, checking his watch. ‘He’s cutting it fine.’

There was a gentle tap on the door and all three of them looked up expectantly. The door opened and Rachel entered the chairman’s office.

‘Some of the directors have already arrived and are waiting for you in the boardroom,’ said his secretary as she handed a copy of the agenda to Seb.

‘Is Mr Kaufman among them, Rachel?’

‘No, chairman, I haven’t seen him this morning.’

‘Then I suggest we join our colleagues,’ said Seb, after glancing at the agenda. ‘I propose that we say nothing about Miss Lombardo until we’ve had a chance to speak to Victor privately.’

‘Agreed,’ said the CEO and the bank’s legal advisor in unison.

All three men rose without another word, made their way out of the chairman’s office and headed for the boardroom, where they joined their colleagues.

‘Good morning, Giles,’ said Seb, who hadn’t called his uncle by his first name until he’d become chairman. ‘Am I to understand that you and my mother are no longer on speaking terms, now the NHS bill has been given its first reading?’

‘That is correct, chairman. The only discourse we will have in the future is across the despatch box.’