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“Half my fortune.”

MAJOR ALEX FISHER

1964

27

Barclays Bank

Halton Road

Bristol

June 16, 1964

Dear Major Fisher,

This morning we honored two checks and a standing order presented on your personal account. The first was from the West Country Building Society for £12 11s 6d, the second from Harvey’s wine merchants for £3 4s 4d and the third was by standing order for £1 to the St. Bede’s Old Boys’ Society.

These payments take you just over your overdraft limit of £500, so we must advise you not to issue any further checks until sufficient funds are available.

Fisher looked at the morning mail on his desk and sighed deeply. There were more brown envelopes than white, several from tradesmen reminding him Must be paid within 30 days, and one regretting that the matter had been placed in the hands of solicitors. And it didn’t help that Susan was refusing to return his precious Jaguar until he was up to date with her monthly maintenance, not least because he couldn’t survive without a car and had ended up having to buy a secondhand Hillman Minx, which was another expense.

He placed the slim brown envelopes to one side and began to open the white ones: an invitation to join his fellow officers of the Royal Wessex for a black tie dinner in the regimental mess, guest speaker Field Marshal Sir Claude Auchinleck—he would accept by return of post; a letter from Peter Maynard, the chairman of the local Conservative Association, asking if he would consider standing as a candidate for the county council elections. Countless hours canvassing and listening to your colleagues make self-serving speeches, expenses that were always queried, and the only accolade was being addressed as “councillor.” No thanks. He would send a courteous reply explaining he had too many other commitments at the present time. He was slitting open the final envelope when the phone rang.

“Major Fisher.”

“Alex,” purred a voice he could never forget.

“Lady Virginia, what a pleasant surprise.”

“Virginia,” she insisted, which he knew meant that she was after something. “I was just wondering if you p

lanned to be in London any time during the next couple of weeks?”

“I’m coming up to London on Thursday to see … I have an appointment in Eaton Square at ten.”

“Well, as you know, I live just around the corner in Cadogan Gardens, so why don’t you pop in for a drink? Shall we say around midday? There’s something of mutual interest that I think might appeal to you.”

“Twelve o’clock on Thursday. I look forward to seeing you then … Virginia.”

* * *

“Can you explain why the company’s shares have been rising steadily during the past month?” asked Martinez.

“The Buckingham’s first booking period is going far better than expected,” said Fisher, “and I’m told the maiden voyage is almost sold out.”

“That’s good news, major, because I don’t want there to be an empty cabin on that ship by the time it sails for New York.” Fisher was about to ask why, when Martinez added, “And is everything in place for the naming ceremony?”

“Yes, once Harland and Wolff have completed the sea trials and the ship is officially handed over, a date will be announced for the naming ceremony. In fact, things couldn’t be going much better for the company at the moment.”

“Not for much longer,” Martinez assured him. “Nevertheless, major, you must go on supporting the chairman loyally, so that when the balloon goes up, no one will be looking in your direction.” Fisher laughed nervously. “And be sure to phone me the moment the next board meeting breaks up, because I can’t make my next move until I know the date of the naming ceremony.”

“Why is the date so important?” asked Fisher.

“All in good time, major. Once I have everything in place, you’ll be the first to be informed.” There was a knock on the door and Diego strolled in.

“Shall I come back later?” he asked.

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