‘How much time have we got?’ asked Emma.
‘The City will be aware we’re holding a board meeting to discuss the takeover bid, and will expect a response to Cunard’s offer by close of business tonight. The market can handle almost anything, drought, famine, an unexpected election result, even a coup, but not indecision.’
Emma opened her handbag, removed a handkerchief and dropped it on the floor.
‘What did you think of the sermon?’ asked Harry.
‘Most interesting,’ said Emma. ‘But then, the Reverend Dodswell always preaches a good sermon,’ she added as they left the churchyard and made their way back to the Manor House.
‘I’d discuss his views on Doubting Thomas, if I thought you’d listened to a word.’
‘I found his approach fascinating,’ protested Emma.
‘No, you didn’t. He never once mentioned Doubting Thomas, and I won’t embarrass you further by asking you what he did preach about. I only hope Our Lord will be understanding about your preoccupation with the possible takeover.’
They walked a few more yards in silence before Emma said, ‘It’s not the takeover that’s worrying me.’
‘Then what?’ said Harry, sounding surprised. Emma took his hand. ‘That bad?’ he asked.
‘The Maple Leaf has returned to Bristol and is docked in the breakers’ yard.’ She paused. ‘Demolition work will begin on Tuesday.’
They continued walking for some time before Harry asked, ‘What do you want to do about it?’
‘I don’t think we have a lot of choice, if we’re not going to spend the rest of our lives wondering . . .’
‘And it might finally answer the question that’s bedevilled us for our entire lives. So why don’t you try and find out if there’s anything in the ship’s double bottom as discreetly as possible.’
‘Work could begin immediately,’ admitted Emma. ‘But I wasn’t willing to give the final go-ahead until I had your blessing.’
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.’