‘So what did she talk about?’ asked Emma.
‘She told me how much she enjoyed my novels, and asked if there would be another William Warwick this Christmas. Yes, ma’am, I replied, but you might not enjoy my next book, as I’m thinking of killing William off.’
‘What did she think of that idea?’ asked Sebastian.
‘She reminded me what her great-great-grandmother Queen Victoria had said to Lewis Carroll after she’d read Alice in Wonderland. However, I assured her that my next book will not be a mathematical thesis on Euclid.’
‘How did she respond?’ asked Samantha.
‘She smiled, to show the conversation had come to an end.’
‘So if you’re going to kill off William Warwick, what will be the theme of your next book?’ asked Sebastian, as the car pulled up outside the restaurant.
‘I once promised your grandmother, Seb,’ replied Harry, as he stepped out of the car, ‘that I would try to write a more substantial work that would, in her words, outlast any bestseller list and stand the test of time. I’m not getting any younger, so once I’ve completed my present contract, I intend to try and find out if I’m capable of living up to her expectations.’
‘Do you have an idea, a subject or even a title?’ pressed Seb as they entered Le Caprice.
‘Yes, yes, and yes,’ said Harry, ‘but that’s all I’m willing to tell you at the moment.’
‘But you’ll tell me, won’t you, Grandpops?’ said Jessica, as she produced a pencil drawing of Harry kneeling before the Queen, a sword touching his right shoulder.
Harry gasped as the rest of the family smiled and applauded. He was about to answer her question, when the ma?tre d’ stepped forward and rescued him.
‘Your table is ready, Sir Harry.’
3
‘NEVER, NEVER, NEVER,’ said Emma. ‘Do I have to remind you that Sir Joshua founded Barrington’s Shipping in 1839, and in his first year made a profit of—’
‘Thirty-three pounds, four shillings and tuppence, which you first told me when I was five years old,’ said Sebastian. ‘However, the truth is that although Barrington’s managed a reasonable dividend for its shareholders last year, it’s becoming more and more difficult for us to go on challenging the big boys like Cunard and P and O.’
‘I wonder what your grandfather would have thought about Barrington’s being taken over by one of his fiercest rivals?’
‘After everything I’ve been told or read about the great man,’ said Seb, looking up at the portrait of Sir Walter that hung on the wall behind his mother, ‘he would have considered his options, and what would be best for the shareholders and employees, before coming to a final decision.’
‘Without wishing to interrupt this family squabble,’ said Admiral Summers, ‘surely what we should be discussing is whether Cunard’s offer is worth the biscuit.’
‘It’s a fair offer,’ said Sebastian matter-of-factly, ‘but I’m confident I can get them to raise their bid by at least ten per cent, possibly fifteen, which frankly is as much as we could hope for. So all we really have to decide is do we want to take their offer seriously, or reject it out of hand?’
‘Then perhaps it’s time to listen to the views of our fellow directors,’ said Emma, looking around the boardroom table.
‘Of course, we can all express an opinion, chairman,’ said Philip Webster, the company secretary, ‘on what is unquestionably the most important decision in the company’s history. However, as your family remain the majority shareholders, only you can decide the outcome.’
The other directors nodded in agreement but it didn’t stop them offering their opinions for the next forty minutes, by which time Emma had discovered they were evenly divided.
‘Right,’ she said, after one or two directors began repeating themselves, ‘Clive, as head of our public relations division, I suggest you prepare two press statements for the board’s consideration. The first will be short and to the point, leaving Cunard in no doubt that while we are flattered by their offer, Barrington’s Shipping is a family company, and is not for sale.’
The admiral looked pleased, while Sebastian remained impassive.
‘And the second?’ asked Clive Bingham, after writing down the chairman’s words.
‘The board rejects Cunard’s offer as derisory and, as far as we’re concerned, it’s business as usual.’
‘That will lead them to believe that you might just be interested if the price was right,’ warned Seb.
‘And then what would happen?’ asked the admiral.
‘The curtain will go up, and the pantomime will begin,’ said Seb, ‘because the chairman of Cunard will be well aware that the leading lady is doing no more than dropping her handkerchief on the floor in the expectation that the suitor will pick it up and begin an age-old courting process that just might end with a proposal she feels able to accept.’