“We took delivery of the Buckingham two weeks ago, which leaves us with fifty weeks before we decide whether or not to take up that option. By then, we must make up our minds if this is a one-off, or the first of the Palace fleet. Frankly that decision will not be made by the board or even the shareholders but, as in all commercial ventures, by the public. They alone will decide the future of the Palace Line.
“And so to my next announcement: at midday today, Thomas Cook will open the second booking period for the Buckingham’s maiden voyage.” Emma paused and looked up at the audience. “But not for the general public. For the past three years, you, the shareholders, have not received the dividends you have been accustomed to in the past, so I’ve decided to take this opportunity to thank you for your continued loyalty and support. Anyone who has held shares for over a year will not only be given priority booking for the maiden voyage, which I know many of you have already taken advantage of, but will also receive a ten percent discount on any trip they make on a Barrington ship in the future.”
The sustained applause that followed allowed Emma to check her notes once again.
“Thomas Cook has warned me not to get too excited about the large number of passengers who have already booked places on the maiden voyage. They tell me that every cabin will have been sold long before the ship sets sail, but that just as every opening night at the Old Vic is always sold out, like the theater we will have to rely on regular customers and repeat orders over a long period of time. The facts are simple. We cannot afford to fall below a sixty percent cabin occupancy, and even that figure will mean we only break even year on year. Seventy percent occupancy will guarantee us a small profit, while we will need eighty-six percent if we are to repay our capital outlay within ten years, as Ross Buchanan always planned. And by that time, I suspect there will be a sun deck on all of our competitors’ ships, and we will be looking for new and innovative ideas to attract an ever more demanding and sophisticated public.
“So the next twelve months will decide the future of Barrington’s. Do we make history, or become history? Be assured that your directors will work tirelessly on behalf of the shareholders who have placed their trust in us, to deliver a service that will be the benchmark in the world of luxury shipping. Let me end as I began. Like my great-grandfather, I intend to do better next year, and the year after, and the year after.”
Emma sat down and the audience rose to their feet as if it were a first night. She closed her eyes and thought of her grandfather’s words, If you’re good enough to be the chairman, being a woman won’t make any difference. Admiral Summers leaned across and whispered, “Congratulations,” and then added, “Questions?”
Emma jumped back up. “Sorry, I quite forgot. Of course, I’ll be delighted to take questions.”
A smartly dressed man in the second row was quickly on his feet. “You mentioned that the share price recently touched an all-time high, but can you explain why in the past couple of weeks there have been such peaks and troughs, which, to a layman like myself, seem inexplicable, not to say worrying?”
“I cannot fully explain that myself,” admitted Emma. “But I can tell you that a former shareholder dumped twenty-two and a half percent of the company’s stock on the market without having the courtesy to inform me, despite that shareholder having a representative on the board. Fortunately for Barrington’s, the broker concerned was shrewd enough to offer those shares to one of our former directors, Mr. Cedric Hardcastle, who is himself a banker. Mr. Hardcastle was able to place the entire holding with a leading businessman from the north of England, who has wanted for some time to purchase a substantial stake in the company. This meant that the shares were only on the market for a few minutes, causing minimum disruption, and indeed within days the price returned to its former high.”
Emma saw her rise from her place in the middle of the fourth row, wearing a wide-brimmed yellow hat that would have been more appropriate at Ascot, but Emma still ignored the woman, pointing instead to a man a few rows behind her.
“Will the Buckingham only be sailing on the transatlantic route, or does the company have plans for her to visit other destinations in the future?”
“Good question,” Giles had taught Emma to say, particularly when it wasn’t. “It wouldn’t be possible for the Buckingham to make a profit if we restricted her voyages to the east coast of the States, not least because our rivals, particularly the Americans, have dominated that route for almost a century. No, we must identify a new generation of passengers who do not consider the sole purpose of travel as simply to get from A to B. The Buckingham must be like a floating luxury hotel, on which her passengers sleep each night, while during the day they visit countries they never thought they’d see in their lifetime. With that in mind, the Buckingham will make regular trips to the Caribbean and the Bahamas, and during the summer she’ll cruise the Mediterranean and sail along the Italian coast. And who can say what other parts of the world will open up in the next twenty years?”
Once again the woman was on her feet, and once again Emma avoided her, pointing to another man near the front.
“Are you worried about the number of passengers who are choosing to travel by airplane rather than ocean liners? BOAC, for example, are claiming that they can get you to New York in less than eight hours, whereas the Buckingham will take at least four days.”
“You’re quite right, sir,” responded Emma, “which is why our advertising concentrates on a different vision for our passengers, offering them an experience that they could never hope to have on an airplane. What airplane can offer a theater, shops, a cinema, a library and restaurants that provide the finest cuisine, not to mention a sun deck and a swimming pool? The truth is, if you’re in a hurry, don’t book a cabin on the Buckingham, because she’s a floating palace that you’ll want to return to again and again. And there’s something else I can promise: when you arrive home, you won’t be suffering from jet lag.”
The woman in the fourth row was on her feet again, waving. “Are you trying to avoid me, chairman?” she shouted.
Giles thought he recognized the voice and looked around to have his worst fears confirmed.
“Not at all, madam, but as you’re neither a shareholder nor a journalist, I didn’t give you priority. But please, do ask your question.”
“Is it true that one of your directors sold his vast shareholding over the weekend, in an attempt to bring the company down?”
“No, Lady Virginia, that is not the case. You’re probably thinking of the twenty-two and a half percent Don Pedro Martinez put on the market without informing the board, but luckily, to use a modern expression, we saw him coming.”
Laughter broke out in the hall, but Virginia wasn’t deterred. “If one of your directors was involved in such an exercise, shouldn’t he resign from the board?”
“If you’re referring to Major Fisher, I asked him to resign last Friday when he came to visit me in my office, as I’m sure you already know, Lady Virginia.”
“What are you insinuating?”
“That on two separate occasions when Major Fisher represented you on the board, you allowed him to sell all your shares over a weekend, and then, after you’d made a handsome profit, you bought them back during the three-week trading period. When the share price recovered and reached a new high, you carried out the same exercise a second time, making an even larger profit. If it was your intention to bring the company down, Lady Virginia, then, like Mr. Martinez, you have failed, and failed lamentably, because you were defeated by decent ordinary people who want this company to be a success.”
Spontaneous applause broke out throughout the hall as Lady Virginia pushed her way along the crowded row, not caring whose toes she trod on. When she reached the aisle, she looked back up at the stage and shouted, “You’ll be hearing from my solicitor.”
“I do hope so,” said Emma, “because then Major Fisher will be able to tell a jury who he was representing when he bought and sold your s
hares.”
This knockout blow received the loudest ovation of the day. Emma even had time to glance down at the front row and wink at Cedric Hardcastle.
She spent the next hour dealing with myriad questions from shareholders, City analysts and journalists alike, with a confidence and authority Harry had rarely witnessed. After she’d answered the last question, she closed the meeting with the words, “I hope that many of you will join me on the maiden voyage to New York in a couple of months’ time, as I’m confident it will be an experience you will never forget.”
“I think we can guarantee that,” whispered a man with a cultured Irish lilt who’d been sitting at the back of the hall. He slipped out while Emma enjoyed a standing ovation.
42
“GOOD MORNING. THOMAS Cook and Son. How can I assist you?”
“It’s Lord Glenarthur. I was hoping you’d be able to help me with a personal matter.”
“I’ll do my best, sir.”
“I’m a family friend of the Barringtons and the Cliftons, and I told Harry Clifton that sadly I wouldn’t be able to join them on the Buckingham’s maiden voyage to New York due to business commitments. Those commitments have now fallen through, and I thought it would be rather fun not to tell them I’d be on board. A sort of surprise, if you get my drift.”
“I certainly do, my lord.”
“So I was calling to find out if it might be possible to book a cabin somewhere near the family.”
“I’ll see what I can do, if you’d be kind enough to hold the line for a moment.” The man on the other end of the line took a sip of Jameson’s and waited. “My lord, there are still two first-class cabins available on the upper deck, numbers three and five.”
“I’d like to be as close to the family as possible.”
“Well, Sir Giles Barrington is in cabin number two.”
“And Emma?”
“Emma?”
“I do apologize. Mrs. Clifton.”
“She’s in cabin number one.”
“Then I’ll take cabin number three. I’m most grateful for your assistance.”
“My pleasure, sir. I hope you have a pleasant trip. May I ask where we should send the tickets?”
“No, don’t bother yourself. I’ll get my chauffeur to collect them.”
* * *
Don Pedro unlocked the safe in his study and removed what was left of his money. He placed bundles of five-pound notes in neat stacks of ten thousand, until they took up every inch of his desk. He returned £23,645 to the safe and locked it, then double-checked the remaining £250,000 before placing the money in the rucksack they had provided. He sat down at his desk, picked up the morning paper and waited.
Ten days had passed before the chauffeur returned his call, to say the operation had been sanctioned, but only if he was willing to pay £500,000. When he’d queried the amount, it was pointed out to him that considerable risks were involved, because if any of the lads were caught, they would probably spend the rest of their days in Crumlin Road, or even worse.
He didn’t bother to bargain. After all, he had no intention of paying the second installment, as he doubted that there were many IRA sympathizers in Buenos Aires.
* * *
“Good morning, Thomas Cook and Son.”
“I’d like to book a first-class cabin for the Buckingham’s maiden voyage to New York.”
“Yes, of course, madam, I’ll put you through.”
“First-class reservations, how can I help you?”
“It’s Lady Virginia Fenwick. I’d like to book a cabin for the maiden voyage.”
“Could you repeat your name please?”
“Lady Virginia Fenwick,” she said slowly, as if addressing a foreigner.
A long silence followed, which Virginia assumed meant the booking clerk was checking availability.
“I’m so sorry, Lady Virginia, but unfortunately first class is completely sold out. Shall I put you through to cabin class?”
“Certainly not. Don’t you realize who I am?”
The clerk would have liked to say yes, I know exactly who you are, because your name has been pinned to the bulletin board for the past month with clear instructions to all sales clerks what to do if that particular lady phoned to make a booking, but instead he said, sticking to his script, “I am sorry, my lady, but there is nothing I can do.”
“But I am a personal friend of the chairman of Barrington’s Shipping,” said Virginia. “Surely that makes a difference?”
“It most certainly does,” replied the booking clerk. “We do have one first-class cabin still available, but it can only be released on the express order of the chairman. So if you’d be kind enough to give Mrs. Clifton a call, I’ll hold the cabin in your name, and release it immediately I hear back from her.”
They never heard back from her.
* * *
When Don Pedro heard the sound of a car horn, he folded his newspaper, placed it on the desk, picked up the rucksack and made his way out of the house.
The chauffeur touched his cap and said, “Good morning, sir,” before placing the rucksack in the boot of the Mercedes.
Don Pedro got into the back seat, closed the door and waited. When the chauffeur climbed behind the wheel, he didn’t ask where Don Pedro wanted to go because he’d already selected the route. They turned left out of Eaton Square and headed toward Hyde Park Corner.
“I’m assuming the agreed amount is in the rucksack,” said the chauffeur as they passed the hospital on the corner of Hyde Park.
“Two hundred and fifty thousand pounds in cash,” said Don Pedro.
“And we will expect the other half to be paid in full within twenty-four hours of carrying out our part of the agreement.”
“That is what I agreed,” said Don Pedro, as he thought about the £23,645 left in the safe in his office; all the money he possessed. Even the house was no longer in his name.
“You do realize the consequences if you don’t pay the second installment?”
“You’ve reminded me often enough,” Don Pedro said as the car proceeded up Park Lane, not exceeding the forty mile an hour speed limit.
“In normal circumstances, should you fail to pay on time, we would have killed one of your sons, but as they are both now safely back in Buenos Aires, and Herr Lunsdorf is no longer among us, that only leaves you,” said the chauffeur as he drove around Marble Arch.
Don Pedro remained silent as they proceeded down the other side of Park Lane, then stopped at a set of traffic lights. “But what if you don’t carry out your side of the bargain?” he demanded.
“Then you won’t have to pay the other two hundred and fifty thousand, will you?” said the chauffeur as he drew up outside the Dorchester.
A doorman dressed in a long green coat rushed up to the car and opened the back door to allow Don Pedro to step out.
“I need a taxi,” said Don Pedro as the chauffeur drove off to rejoin the morning traffic on Park Lane.
“Yes, sir,” said the doorman, raising an arm and letting out a piercing whistle.
When Don Pedro climbed into the back of the taxi and said, “Forty-four Eaton Square,” the doorman was puzzled. Why would the gentleman need a taxi when he already had a chauffeur?
* * *
“Thomas Cook and Son, how may I help you?”
“I’d like to book four cabins on the Buckingham for its maiden voyage to New York.”
“First class or cabin, sir?”
“Cabin.”
“I’ll put you through.”
“Good morning, cabin-class reservations for the Buckingham.”
“I’d like to book four single cabins for the voyage to New York on October the twenty-ninth.”
“May I take the names of the passengers?” Colonel Scott-Hopkins gave his name and those of his three colleagues. “The tickets will be thirty-two pounds each. Where shall I send the invoice, sir?”
SAS headquarters, Chelsea Barracks, King’s Road, London, he cou
ld have said, as they were paying the bill, but instead he gave the booking clerk his home address.
43
“I WOULD LIKE to begin today’s meeting by welcoming Mr. Bob Bingham as a member of the board,” said Emma. “Bob is chairman of Bingham’s Fish Paste, and as he has recently acquired twenty-two point five percent of Barrington’s stock, he doesn’t have to convince anyone of his belief in the company’s future. We have also received resignations from two other board members, Mr. Cedric Hardcastle, whose shrewd and wise advice will be sadly missed, and Major Fisher, who will not be quite so sadly missed.”
Admiral Summers allowed himself a wry smile.
“As there are only ten days to go before the official naming of the Buckingham, perhaps I should begin by bringing you up to date with the preparations for the ceremony.” Emma opened the red folder in front of her and checked the schedule carefully. “The Queen Mother will arrive at Temple Meads on the royal train at nine thirty-five on the morning of September twenty-first. She will be met on the platform by the Lord Lieutenant of the County and City of Bristol and the Lord Mayor of Bristol. Her Majesty will then be driven to Bristol Grammar School, where she will be met by the headmaster, who will escort her to the school’s new science laboratories, which she will open at ten ten. She will meet a selected group of pupils and staff, before leaving the school at eleven o’clock. She will then be driven to Avonmouth, arriving at the shipyard at eleven seventeen.” Emma looked up. “My life would be so much simpler if I always knew the exact minute I would be arriving anywhere. I will meet Her Majesty when she arrives at Avonmouth,” she continued, looking back down at the schedule, “and welcome her on behalf of the company, before introducing her to the board. At eleven twenty-nine I will accompany her to the north dock, where she will meet the ship’s architect, our marine engineer and the chairman of Harland and Wolff.