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10
“NO ONE’S TO blame,” said the chairman.
“Perhaps, but we seem to be lurching from one inexplicable disaster to another,” said Emma. She began to read aloud from the long list in front of her. “A fire in a loading bay that holds up construction for several days; a boiler breaks its straps as it’s being unloaded and ends up at the bottom of the harbor; a bout of food poisoning that results in seventy-three electricians, plumbers and welders being sent home; a wildcat strike—”
“What’s the bottom line, chairman?” asked Major Fisher.
“We’re falling quite badly behind schedule,” replied Buchanan. “There’s no chance of stage one being completed by the end of the year. If things go on like this, we have little hope of keeping to our original timetable.”
“And the financial consequences of failing to make the dates?” inquired the admiral.
Michael Carrick, the company’s finance director, checked his figures. “So far, the over-run is around three hundred and twelve thousand pounds.”
“Can we cover the extra expense out of our reserves, or will we have to resort to some short-term borrowing?” asked Dobbs.
“We have more than enough to cover the initial shortfall in our capital account,” said Carrick. “But we’ll have to do everything in our power to make up for the lost time over the coming months.”
In our power Emma wrote on the pad in front of her.
“Perhaps it might be wise in the circumstances,” said the chairman, “to postpone any announcement on the proposed launch date, as it’s beginning to look as if we’ll have to revise our original predictions, both on timing and financial outlay.”
“When you were deputy chairman of P & O,” said Knowles, “did you ever come across a series of problems like this? Or is what we’re experiencing unusual?”
“It’s exceptional, in fact I’ve never come across anything like it before,” admitted Buchanan. “Every build has its setbacks and surprises, but things usually even out in the long run.”
“Does our insurance policy cover any of these problems?”
“We’ve been able to make a few claims,” said Dixon, “but insurance companies always impose limits, and in one or two cases we’ve already exceeded them.”
“But surely some of these hold-ups are the direct responsibility of Harland and Wolff,” said Emma, “so we can invoke the relevant penalty clauses in the contract.”
“I wish it was that easy, Mrs. Clifton,” said the chairman, “but Harland and Wolff are contesting almost every one of our claims, arguing that they haven’t been directly responsible for any of the hold-ups. It’s become a battlefield for the lawyers, which is costing us even more money.”
“Do you see a pattern emerging, chairman?”
“I’m not sure I know what you’re suggesting, admiral.”
“Faulty electrical equipment from a normally reliable company in Liverpool, a boiler ending up in the harbor that was being unloaded from a Glaswegian coaster, our gang gets food poisoning but it doesn’t spread to any other part of the yard although the food was supplied by the same Belfast caterer?”
“What are you implying, Admiral?”
“There are too many coincidences for my liking, which just happen to all be taking place at the same time as the IRA are beginning to flex their muscles.”
“That’s one hell of a leap you’re making,” suggested Knowles.
“I may well be reading too much into it,” admitted the admiral, “but then I was born in County Mayo to a Protestant father and a Roman Catholic mother, so perhaps it goes with the territory.”
Emma glanced across the table to see Fisher furiously scribbling notes, but he put his pen down the moment he noticed her taking an interest. She knew that Fisher wasn’t a Catholic, and for that matter neither was Don Pedro Martinez, whose only creed was self-interest. After all, he’d been willing to sell arms to the Germans during the war, so why wouldn’t he deal with the IRA if it served his purpose?
“Let’s hope I’ll be able to make a more positive report when we meet again next month,” said the chairman, not looking altogether convinced.
After the meeting broke up, Emma was surprised to see Fisher quickly leave the room without speaking to anyone; another of the admiral’s coincidences?
“Can I have a word with you, Emma?” asked Buchanan.
“I’ll be back in a moment, chairman,” said Emma, before following Fisher out into the corridor, to glimpse him vanishing down the stairs. Why didn’t he just take the waiting lift? She stepped into it and pressed the button marked G. When the doors slid open on the ground floor, she didn’t get out immediately, but watched as Fisher pushed through the revolving door and made his way out of the building. By the time she reached the door, Fisher was already climbing into his car. She remained inside the building and watched as he drove toward the front gate. To her surprise he turned left toward the lower docks, and not right in the direction of Bristol.
Emma pushed open the door and ran to her car. When she reached the front gate, she looked left and spotted the major’s car in the distance. She was just about to follow him when a lorry passed in front of her. She cursed, turned left and tucked in behind it. A stream of vehicles coming in the opposite direction made it impossible for her to overtake. She had only gone about half a mile, when she spotted Fisher’s car parked in front of the Lord Nelson. As she drew nearer, she saw the major standing in the phone box outside the pub, dialing a number.
