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Samantha smiled as her daughter left the room. She had told Seb soon after Jake’s birth that she was anxious about how Jessica might respond to the new arrival, having been the center of attention for so long. But the exact opposite turned out to be the case, because Jake immediately became the center of Jessica’s life. She was happy to babysit whenever her parents wanted to go out in the evening, and at weekends she would wheel him around St. James’s park in his pram, before putting him to bed. Elderly matrons cooed over him, not sure if Jessica was an attentive older sister or a young unmarried mother.
Jessica had settled down quickly in her adopted country, after finally bringing her parents to their senses, and now she rejoiced not only in their happiness, but in the joy of having a baby brother. She adored her new extended family. Pops, who was tolerant, kind, and amusing; Grandpops who was wise, thoughtful, and inspiring; and Grandma who the press often dubbed “the Boadicea of Bristol,” which made Jessica feel Boadicea must have been one hell of a woman.
However, settling into her new school hadn’t proved quite as easy. While some of the girls called her the Yank, others less generously described her as a stick insect. Jessica concluded that the Mafia and the Ku Klux Klan combined could have learned a great deal about intimidation from the pupils of St. Paul’s Girls’ School, and by the end of her first year, she only had one close friend, Claire Taylor, who shared most of her interests, including boys.
* * *
During her final year at St. Paul’s, Jessica hovered around the middle of the class, regularly beaten by Claire in every subject except art, where she remained unassailable. While most of her classmates were anxious about being offered a university place, no one doubted where Jessica was heading.
Jessica did, however, confide in Claire a fear that if she was offered a place at the Slade, she might discover that Avril Perkins, who came second in art, was right when she remarked within Jessica’s hearing that she was just a big fish in a small pool, who was about to be cast into the ocean where she would undoubtedly sink without trace.
Claire told her to dismiss Avril for the little creep she was, but Jessica still spent her final term at St. Paul’s wondering if she might be right.
When the high mistress announced at prize-giving that Jessica Clifton had been awarded the Gainsborough Scholarship to the Slade School of Fine Art, Jessica seemed to be the only person in the hall who was surprised. In fact, she took as much pleasure in Claire being offered a place at University College to read English as she did in her own triumph. However, she wasn’t pleased to learn that Avril Perkins would be joining her at the Slade.
* * *
“The chairman would like a word with you, Mr. Clifton.”
Sebastian stopped signing letters and looked up to see the boss’s secretary standing in the doorway. “I thought he was in Copenhagen?”
“He came back on the first flight this morning,” said Angela, “and asked to see you the moment he walked into his office.”
“Sounds serious,” said Seb, raising an eyebrow, but receiving no response.
“All I can tell you, Mr. Clifton, is that he’s cleared his diary for the rest of the morning.”
“Perhaps he’s going to sack me,” said Seb, hoping to tempt Angela into an indiscretion.
“I don’t think so, because that usually only takes him a couple of minutes.”
“Not even a clue?” whispered Sebastian as they left his office and walked along the corridor together.
“All I’m willing to say,” said Angela, “is that you can’t have missed the fact that Mr. Bishara has traveled to Copenhagen six times in the last month. Perhaps you’re about to find out why,” she added before knocking on the chairman’s door.
“Has he taken over Lego or Carlsberg?” said Seb as Angela opened the door and stood aside to allow him to enter.
“Good morning, chairman,” said Seb. But he couldn’t work out from the sphinx-like expression on Hakim Bishara’s face if it was good news or bad.
“Good morning, Sebastian.” First clue, thought Seb. The chairman only ever called him Sebastian when he was about to discuss something serious. “Have a seat.” Second clue, this wasn’t going to be a short meeting.
“Sebastian, I wanted you to be the first to know that I got married on Saturday.”
Seb had considered half a dozen possible reasons the chairman would want to see him, but marriage wasn’t among them, and to say he was taken by surprise would have been an understatement. For a moment he couldn’t think of what to say. Hakim leaned back in his chair and enjoyed the unusual experience of a silent CEO.
“Do I know the lady in question?” Seb eventually managed.
“No, but you’ve seen her from a distance.”
Sebastian decided to join in the game. “In London?”
“Yes.”
“In the City?”
“Yes,” Hakim repeated, “but you’re heading down the wrong road.”
“Is she a banker?”
