Private Lives

49



Once a month, Donovan Pierce’s weekly partners’ meeting was held off the premises in one of the many restaurants that dotted Soho. Usually it took the form of a long lunch, but with the Balon trial taking up so much of her time, Helen had arranged an early supper at Nobu. There were only five partners at the firm: Helen, Matthew and the three junior partners, Alex Bard, Will Proctor and Edward French, all of whom had been elevated to salaried partners by Larry three years before and consequently worshipped the ground Donovan senior walked upon. In fact, Helen had to suppress a smile when Edward, a balding, rather owlish chap, ordered sake for the table. It was exactly the sort of thing that would have got him a slap of approval from Larry.

‘So where’s Matt this evening?’ asked Edward as they all ordered from the vast menu.

‘At some festival in Richmond,’ said Helen.

‘What’s he doing there?’

‘Trailing Anna Kennedy around with his tongue out,’ smirked Alex. He was the youngest of the partners, but he was smart. Helen could see he had potential; none of the others would have dared make fun of Larry’s son, especially with Helen there.

Will Proctor sat forward, perhaps showing himself a little too eager, thought Helen. She had noted with interest how Will always seemed to be leaving the building whenever Anna was, just so they could share the lift down or perhaps a taxi to court, although somehow she doubted that someone as attractive – and as clever – as Anna would go for an overweight vintage car enthusiast still suffering from acne in his mid thirties.

‘So what’s the gossip?’ Will asked. ‘Is there something going on between Matt and Anna?’

Helen simply raised an eyebrow.

‘One would hope not. But like father, like son,’ she said with a thin, knowing smile.

She was pleased when the three men laughed. Predictably, the young partners had been very much Larry’s boys; even before their promotion, he had often taken them out on his more risqué outings with clients to lap-dancing clubs and late-night drinking dens. Consequently, whenever the partners had had to vote on internal issues, the three younger men had always followed Larry’s lead – and so had Helen, knowing she was outgunned from the start.

But that’s all in the past, thought Helen. Things are about to change around here. She waved the waiter over and ordered a bottle of excellent wine without looking at the menu, knowing that that would impress the others. It was all part of her bigger plan; ever since Larry’s departure, she had been wooing the impressionable younger partners with glimpses of the high life, tastes of what could be theirs if only they played ball. Alex had been given the use of her Devon house for a long weekend with the new girlfriend he was trying to impress, while Edward had been invited to her South Kensington townhouse for an intimate dinner with his fiancée. Helen had been certain they would be blown away by both the size and the gorgeous interior of her home. Will had been even easier; she had arranged for a client to sell him, at a knock-down price secretly subsidised by herself, a pristine 1967 AC Cobra in British racing green. She knew her favour was paying off every time she heard its thrumming engine pulling into the staff car park.

It had been slow, careful work getting them on side, but now it was time for Helen to call in her markers. Her conversation with Timothy Hartnell at her birthday party had only hammered home how badly she had been left exposed when Larry had retired from the firm. She would not be outmanoeuvred again.

‘Actually, I’m glad Matthew’s not here,’ she said, as they sipped the wine. ‘I wanted to raise an issue about the partnership agreement.’

She watched them exchange alarmed glances – that was only to be expected.

‘Donovan Pierce is having a bumper year,’ she began. ‘Every one of us around this table looks set for record fees and I think you’ll all agree that that success is only a reflection of our collective dedication and hard work.’

They all murmured their assent.

‘But I think we all also agree that this firm cannot support unproductive partners.’

‘Meaning Matt,’ said Alex. Helen smiled.

‘Exactly. Look at what he’s bringing in: roughly the same as our best trainee. Not good for a senior partner.’

‘Sure, but he’s only been here a few weeks,’ said Alex. ‘Shouldn’t we give him a chance?’

Helen nodded.

‘Absolutely. I’m not suggesting anything else. I’m merely pointing out the obvious: his area of law is an additional service for this firm, not a core one, and I’m not entirely convinced that a family law solicitor is going to generate the same level of fees that the rest of us do.’

She paused, letting that particular nugget sink in.

‘So our hard work will be rewarding the largest stakeholder in the firm,’ said Edward with a hint of bitterness. Helen had guessed he would be the easiest to sway with the money argument; she had got the distinct impression that his fiancée Caroline was a woman who responded well to extravagance.

‘What are you saying, Helen?’ said Will. ‘You want to get rid of him? Larry would be furious.’

She had prepared herself for this argument; after all, they were Larry’s boys.

‘Not at all. We just need to have an agreement that rewards effort equally.’

She looked at each of them individually.

‘Look, Larry was an incredible figurehead and leader for this company, but he’s gone, and if I’m frank, his insistence on keeping his name on the masthead is really confusing the client base. In the last week alone I’ve had two major football agents and one FTSE 500 CEO calling up expecting Larry to represent them. When I told them he was no longer on active duty, they turned very sniffy indeed, thinking we were making excuses, that Larry didn’t consider them important enough. Is it any wonder that they took their business elsewhere?’

She laid her hands flat on the table.

‘I’m not saying that we oust Matt from the company. Simply that we de-equitise him.’

De-equitisation. It had been a buzz word around the big city law firms since the financial downturn. Getting rid of underperforming partners, cutting away the dead wood. They all knew that to survive in a shrinking marketplace, they needed to stay lean and effective. No one could afford to carry passengers any more.

‘So he becomes a salaried partner and not an equity one?’ said Will.

‘That’s right,’ nodded Helen, although she was quite sure Matt Donovan would leave the firm rather than suffer the humiliation of being demoted. That would force a sale of his equity, and Helen would make damn sure she was in a position to snap it up this time. Pierce’s. Helen smiled to herself. It had a much nicer ring.

‘Okay,’ said Edward. ‘Let’s say we all agree this is the way forward. I’m not sure there’s anything in the partnership agreement that allows us to remove someone.’

‘You’re right,’ said Helen. ‘It doesn’t, not at the moment anyway. But as you all know, changes to the partnership agreement can be made with a super-majority partner vote, so if all of us around this table think we should do it, then we can make it happen.’

Alex was frowning. ‘I still think we should give Matt a chance.’

‘We are,’ said Helen firmly. ‘All we’re doing is adding a clause to the partnership agreement that says that if anyone underperforms, we can reconsider their position as a partner. So if Matt performs as well as he should be – as well as we are – then he should stay. This is simply a safeguard. Many other big firms are doing it, and I think it’s fair and sensible.’

‘But the partnership agreement applies to all of us,’ said Will nervously. ‘Surely that will make our own positions more precarious?’

‘The three of you are bringing in ten times the fees Matt Donovan is billing, so I really don’t think you have anything to fear. Besides, with Matt out of the equity partnership structure, that leaves more of the profits to be spread around. At the moment, you’re each getting what, three, four per cent? I’m sure you’d all prefer a fairer slice for all the work you’re bringing in?’

She didn’t point out that once she’d bought up Matt Donovan’s shareholding, they would still only have a tiny percentage each.

‘Umm, Helen?’

Helen turned in her seat to see Sid Travers standing there holding a document case.

‘Sid? What are you doing here?’ she snapped.

The young trainee almost melted on the spot.

‘Sorry, Helen, but I’ve got an urgent “By Hand” for you to sign,’ she said. ‘We’ve got a bike waiting for it and I wasn’t sure if you were returning to the office.’

Helen held out her hand.

‘Pass it here,’ she sighed, hoping the girl hadn’t heard anything of their conversation. When Sid had gone, she turned back to the table, her unruffled composure completely returned.

‘So, gentlemen,’ she coaxed. ‘Are you in or are you out?’

She watched as they each wrestled with their own internal debates: Alex wondering about the ethics of blindsiding a colleague, but ambitious enough to see that it helped his own career; Will desperate to please Larry, but enough of a toady to follow the others; and Edward, well, she expected that Edward was already rehearsing telling Caroline that they could start looking at houses near Harrods. It was Alex who spoke first, just as she knew it would be.

‘Well I think we should go for it,’ he said, glancing up at the others for support. ‘Matt won’t be pleased, of course, but at the end of the day we’re not pushing him out, just levelling the playing field.’

‘I’m in if you guys are,’ mumbled Will.

Finally Helen turned to Edward.

‘Me? Oh, you had me at “more money”,’ he laughed. ‘Count me in.’

Trying hard to hide her joy, Helen signalled to the waiter to fill their glasses, then raised hers in toast.

‘To us,’ she said with a flourish.