The Second Son Read online

Page 19


  Sara and Grenville served coffee. Once they were all seated around the table, Grenville said, “Shall we start?” which brought a nodding of heads. “Jonathan want to kick us off,” Grenville said, smiling.

  “Absolutely,” replied Jonathan. Standing, Jonathan continued, “First, some good news and bad news,” which brought a low murmur around the table. Still smiling, Jonathan said, “The good news is we have purchased Bombard House for two million five hundred pounds.” This brought a round of applause from the group.

  “Surely there cannot be any bad news,” said Sara, laughing.

  Jonathan continued, holding up his hand. “The bad news is that someone has been muddying the water with Historic England and has put in an application to Historic England to have Bombard house listed as a building of interest.”

  “And I bet we can all guess who has done that,” said Hugo, smiling.

  “That bloody man,” said Grenville. “So where do we stand on this?” asked Grenville.

  “Well, I have a meeting with Historic England next week, so hopefully we can get a positive outcome,” said Jonathan.

  “And if we don’t?” asked Sara.

  “Well, there are two grades of listed buildings. Grade 1 is of exceptional national architectural or historic importance, which means we could be buggered and not change a lot to the building, second is Grade 2 of national importance & special interest, which will be more flexible to building change. But it is up to Historic England to make the recommendation to The Secretary of State for Culture, Media and Sport who is responsible for compiling the statutory list of buildings of special architectural or historic interest. Hopefully due to the location and age of the building, they won’t deem Bombard House suitable as a listed building,” said Jonathan, sitting down.

  “Thank you, Jonathan,” said Grenville. “Hugo,” said Grenville, smiling.

  Hugo stood and said, “We now have a working capital of thirty-five million,” which brought a round of applause from everyone. Hugo smiled and said, “Moving on, Easington Investment Bank. Did some digging about and called in a few favours in the City, and I can say that they are to put it poetically up shit creek without a paddle,” which made everyone laugh.

  “What do you recommend, Hugo?” asked Grenville.

  “Well, we have two options. One is to invest in the bank then raise a vote of no confidence in the current Chairman Mr Dexter Simon-Smyth, or I would suggest we quietly go about buying up shares and get enough to have a seat on the board.”

  “Any suggestions?” asked Grenville.

  “I prefer option two myself,” said Jonathan.

  “How is the share price looking now?” asked Carole.

  Taking a piece of paper from his briefcase Hugo said, “Five pounds fifteen pence.”

  “So, it could work out cheaper for us with option two,” Carole said.

  “Plus, option one is a big risk,” replied Hugo.

  Grenville said, “Shall we vote who is in favour of option one?” No one put their hand up. “Option two?” Everyone raised their hand at once. Grenville smiled. “Option two it is then. Hugo, see how many shares we require for a place on their board and see if you can purchase them for Easington Investment Bank,” said Grenville.

  Hugo nodded and said, “Up to the value of?”

  “Will leave that up to you, old chap, if we get on their board,” said Grenville, smiling.

  Hugo nodded and sat down.

  “Carole,” said Grenville, smiling.

  Carole stood and smiled. “I will not bore you all with details but to set up and have a secure computer system, we are looking at just over a million.” She passed each of them a piece of paper. “On the paper, I just passed you is a breakdown of equipment and services we require,” said Carole.

  “Any questions?” asked Grenville. Everyone shook their heads. “Thank you, Carole,” said Grenville. Carole sat down, smiling. “Now we have purchased Bombard House, and notwithstanding the problem with Historic England, I think it’s time we call in a suitable architect to draw up plans to make Bombard House workable,” said Grenville. “Sara, can you and Carole cover it?” he asked.

  “Of course, we can,” said Sara, looking at a nodding Carole.

  “Excellent,” replied Grenville, “once you have a workable plan, we will all meet at Bombard House to discuss it.” Grenville went on, “Anyone got anything to add?” Everyone shook their head, smiling. Grenville said, “Lunch then,” and stood up.

  After lunch Sara told Grenville she would be returning to London with Carole to begin looking for a suitable architect, plus she would complete some important wedding planning. Grenville smiled as he watched the taxi depart. He would miss Sara, but they all had important tasks. Thinking of his, he went to find his father. Finding both his parents in the study, he asked his father if he could possibly use Newton and the Rolls tomorrow. His father agreed even without asking the reason why.

  Next morning Grenville went to the garages to find Newton. Grenville found Newton sitting in his office having a cup of coffee and listening to the radio. “Newton my dear chap, there you are,” said Grenville, smiling.

  Newton stood and said, “I apologise for my attire, my Lord,” standing up in his rolled-up shirt sleeves.

  Grenville smiled and waved his hand. “No need to apologise my dear chap, it was my fault for coming and tracking you down.”

  “How may I be of service, my Lord?” asked Newton.

  “I need you and the Rolls for a quick trip to the East End of London,” said Grenville.

  Newton smiled. “I will be ready in ten minutes, my Lord,” replied Newton.

  “Excellent, meet you in front of the Hall,” said Grenville, turning and returning to the Hall.

  As promised Newton was ready with the door to the Rolls open before Grenville came out of the Hall. As Grenville climbed into the Rolls, Newton asked, “Where we off to, my Lord?”

  “Not sure.” He passed the piece of paper to Newton with Grace Backer’s address on it.

  Newton smiled. “I know it well, my Lord, was brought up a stone’s throw away from there myself.”

  “Excellent,” said Grenville, smiling.

  Newton made good progress to the East End of London. All Grenville could see were derelict and abandoned buildings, and his thoughts turned to Tom who grew up around here and he wondered if he played in the places there were passing. Grenville smiled. This place helped Tom become the man he is today, shaped him. How different from his upbringing, surrounded by opulence, compared to people around here. He spotted a few ragged dressed children staring at the Rolls Royce as it passed as if it were an alien space ship.

  Grenville, still smiling, said to Newton, “You grew up around here, Newton?

  “Yes, my Lord, not far away from where we are heading.”

  “Was it tough?”

  “Not really, my Lord, we knew no different so we had nothing to compare it with,” said Newton, laughing. Grenville nodded and contemplated what it would have been like living around this place. “Just coming up on Brick Lane now, my Lord,” said Newton, which brought Grenville out of his daydream.

  “Thank you, Newton,” replied Grenville. Turning into Durant Street Newton stopped outside number twenty-seven. The curtains in the street were twitching and some had even come out to look; groups had gathered along the street, and were staring at the beautiful blue Rolls Royce. Everyone was speculating why it was here; a group of children just stood metres from it, staring at the car.

  Newton got out and opened the door for Grenville. “Twenty-seven Durant Street, my Lord,” said Newton quite loudly, so the gathered crowd could hear. This brought an audible intake of breath from the assembled group.

  Grenville smiled and said, “Thank you, Newton,” as he stepped from the Rolls Royce. Turning, Grenville said, “Please wait for me Newton, not sure how long.”

  “Take your time my Lord, I will keep an eye on the Roller,” he replied, Grenville smiled at the thought
of any one trying to touch Newton’s pride and joy.

  Grenville knocked on number twenty-seven, and after a pause he realised perhaps Mrs Backer was not in. He felt himself turn red for being so arrogant as to think everyone was at his beck and call. He was just about to leave when he heard a bolt being pulled across the door. The door opened a fraction and a face peered out at him and said, “Yes, can I help you?”

  “May I presume I am addressing a Mrs Grace Backer?” Grenville asked.

  “Who wants to know?” the face replied.

  “Sorry, let me introduce myself,” Grenville said.

  “Please do,” replied the face.

  “I am Grenville Hampton, Earl of Eastleigh,” said Grenville bowing slightly.

  “I am Grace Backer, what can I do for the Earl of Eastleigh?” replied Grace.

  “I was recently abroad and met a new acquaintance,” said Grenville.

  “And what has that got to do with me?” replied Grace.

  “His name was Tom, and he asked if I could look you up when I was back in England,” said Grenville very softly.

  Grace opened the door wider without giving anything away by her expression. “Please come in, my Lord,” said Grace, standing back to allow Grenville access.

  “Please, Mrs Backer call me Grenville,” replied Grenville.

  “Thank you, Grenville, please call me Grace,” said Grace, smiling for the first time. Once seated in the kitchen, Grace asked, “Would you like a cup of tea, Grenville?”

  “Most kind, Grace.”

  After Grace made tea she sat opposite Grenville and smiled. “You know this will be the talk of the street for days to come,” said a laughing Grace.

  “Why, do you not get a lot of Rolls Royce down your road?” said a laughing Grenville.

  Grace looked at Grenville and saw his smiling eyes and knew they were going to become friends. “So, Grenville, you mentioned a name that has only been mentioned in whispers for years around these parts,” said Grace softly.

  Lowering his cup, Grenville went on to tell Grace his story of how he met Tom and the time they spent together.

  Grace continued to ask Grenville questions about Tom and his life since leaving Russia, and Grenville answered them all with honesty. Grace could see from his face that he was being open with her. After a time, Grace, with tears in her eyes, said, “Thank you Grenville, you have made an old lady very happy.”

  “My pleasure, Grace.” Taking Grace’s hand, Grenville went on. “I promised Tom I would visit and let you know he was safe. Plus, I promised Tom I would look after you,” said Grenville, smiling.

  “Do I need looking after?” replied Grace, laughing.

  “I think we can find you somewhere better,” replied a smiling Grenville.

  “The area around here has become a bit run down, and it’s definitely not safe to go out at night,” replied Grace.

  “More reason to find you somewhere where you feel safe,” said Grenville. “Leave it with me, Grace, and I will find somewhere suitable,” said a smiling Grenville. “I know this time I was lucky to find you in my ignorance, for thinking you would be in, so is there any time you would rather me not call?” asked Grenville.

  “Only day I am really out is Wednesday morning when I go to collect my pension, apart from that I am always in,” said Grace, smiling.

  “Excellent,” replied Grenville. As Grace walked Grenville to the door, and as she opened it, it seemed the whole street was standing around the Rolls Royce. Grenville kissed Grace on the cheek and said, “Will be in touch soon.”

  Grace smiled and said, “Thank you, my dear.”

  Newton held the door open for Grenville. People looked at Grenville with wide eyes; he was sure he was the first Earl that some had ever seen. Grenville smiled at the crowd and gave a wave, to which most of them just stood and stared. Grenville thought that Grace would be having a lot of visitors when he left, wanting to know who he was and what he wanted with her, and knowing Grace she would be playing it close to her chest, revelling in the attention.

  After Newton got in, he turned and said, “Where to now, my Lord?”

  “Home, I think, Newton,” Grenville replied, to which Newton said, “Home it is, my Lord.” As he placed the car in gear and pulled away, the children chased the car all the way down to the main road.

  Back at the Hall Grenville went to find his mother. Finding her in the reading room, Grenville kissed her on the offered cheek. “Hello darling, what you up to?” asked his mother.

  “Looking for you, and your sage advice,” replied a smiling Grenville. Sitting next to his mother, Grenville said, “I told you about my friend Tom,” to which his mother nodded and smiled. “Well, his mother lives in a rundown part of London, now retired so we need to get her somewhere safe, and I know it will please Tom knowing his mother is safe,” said Grenville.

  “So, what do you need from me?” asked his mother.

  “Well, I know in your various projects and committees you come across various places.”

  “What is she like?” asked his mother.

  Grenville said, “Grace is, how shall we say, very independent and street wise and I don’t think she suffers fools gladly.”

  “OK,” his mother replied.

  “In fact, she reminds me a lot of you, mother, in her attitude,” smiled Grenville.

  “Well in that case, my quest will be easy,” said his mother, laughing.

  “Thank you, mother, knew I could rely on you,” said Grenville, leaving over and kissing her again on her cheek.

  Wednesday of the following month came quickly and Grenville had been up since dawn. He was not sure whether it was seeing Sara again or getting updates from the team, but he was feeling excited, and kept looking out of the window after breakfast looking for taxis. Eventually he spotted a taxi coming up the drive. Grenville went and stood on the steps watching it arrive. Smiling, he spotted Sara, who was waving frantically at him and smiling. As soon as the taxi stopped she was out and into his arms. Kissing him deeply, she said, “Boy, have I missed you.”

  “Likewise,” he said into her mouth.

  Carole was the next to greet him with a hug, then Hugo and Jonathan. “Shall we?” said Grenville, pointing towards the Hall.

  “After you, old man,” said Hugo. With Sara on his arm, he led the way towards the library.

  Once they had all been seated and coffee served Grenville said, smiling, “Shall we begin?”

  Without being prompted Jonathan stood and said, “The purchase of Bombard House has been finalised,” which brought a round of applause from them all. Jonathan continued, “I had a meeting with Historic England and convinced them that Bombard House was not a real potential to be a listed building on the scale of Blenheim Palace,” this brought laughter from the others, “so as far as we are concerned we are good to go,” said Jonathan, sitting down.

  “Well done old boy, mightily impressed,” said a smiling Grenville, which brought a “hear, hear” from the others.

  Hugo stood next. Smiling, Hugo said, “We now have a company working capital of fifty million pounds.” This brought a hush from the others.

  “How much?” said Carole.

  “Fifty million pounds,” said Hugo more loudly.

  “That’s what I thought you said,” Carole replied.

  “That is the balance after taking off the purchase for Bombard House, and the purchase of stock for Easington Investment Bank.”

  “How much stock?” asked Jonathan.

  “Approximately fifteen per cent, which gives us the right to push for a seat on the board, as we now have ten per cent ownership in the bank,” said Hugo.

  “What name did you purchase the shares in, Hugo?” Grenville asked.

  “S&T Imports,” replied Hugo, smiling.

  “Excellent,” said Jonathan, “so he won’t know it’s us,” Jonathan continued.

  “Can he not find out?” asked Sara.

  “Surely he will be curious to know who has b
een buying up all their stock?” asked Carole.

  “No,” said Hugo. “S&T Imports is a private company, registered in the UK for tax purposes, so unlike a UK company we don’t have to list our board or structure, if we keep the taxman happy, and conform to UK business regulations,” said Hugo, smiling.

  “When can we find out about their next board meeting, and get a place on it?” asked Grenville.

  “We can formally write to Easington Investment Bank asking to join the board as soon as we like,” replied Hugo, sitting down.

  “Well done you,” said Carole, smiling at Hugo. It did not go amiss from the others; the smile Carole gave Hugo or the shy smile he gave her back.

  To hide his embarrassment, Grenville said, “Hugo, a star as always,” which brought another round of laughter from the others.

  Sara stood. “My turn,” she said, smiling.

  “Go for it girl,” said Carole, smiling.

  Sara carried on. “I have been to see a reputable architect to draw up some plans, after Jonathan and I showed him over Bombard House, and he should have them ready for our approval early next month. But as a basic plan, I suggested we have the fifth-floor management and conference rooms, fourth floor HR and Administration, third floor Accounts and Sales and Marketing, second floor Legal and Procurement and first floor IT,” said Sara, scanning the room.

  “Most impressive,” said Grenville, smiling.

  “Also,” said Sara, carrying on, “I have spoken to a few recruitment agencies within area and gave them a list of our basic employment requirements, so they can start getting together suitable candidates for the departments.” Sara sat down, smiling.

  “Well done you,” said Hugo; this brought another round of applause for the others.

  Sara went red with embarrassment, which made them all laugh. Grenville leaned over and whispered, “I knew you had it in you.”

  “Thank you my love,” she replied, smiling.

  Carole stood up. “My turn,” she said, “Since we last met, I ordered the following items of IT equipment,” holding up her hand, “and before you all say anything, these items due to their, shall we say complexity, may take a few months to arrive, so I have already ordered them.”