Read Online Flight by Victoria Glendinning - Free Book Online Page B

saucers, a milk-jug, and a big brown teapot. Everyone shifted and relaxed, welcoming the interruption.
    â€˜Ah, rosy-fingered Dawn!’ Arthur said, essaying a smile.
    Dawn, who was Ghanaian, looked up at him sharply from the trolley, mystified, suspecting a racist joke from where she least expected it. She loved Arthur. Martagon caught her in the passage when he went for a pee, and tried to explain that ‘rosy-fingered dawn’ was poetry about the sunrise, a quotation from Homer – ‘like “wine-dark sea”,’ he said, floundering.
    â€˜Oh, right,’ said Dawn.
    Martagon went back into the boardroom and sat down with a sense of dread. His hands, though he had washed them, were clammy again.
    Tom Scree, who so far had slumped in his chair and said nothing, sat up very straight, as if indicating that he had a major contribution to make. As usual, he looked like an old hippie, and as usual, he spoke like an archbishop. He referred to Arthur throughout as ‘Sir Arthur’, which gave what he said added weight and formality.
    It was not until Scree reached his peroration that Martagon really understood what was going on. For the last twenty minutes Scree had been subtly building up a strong case against merger negotiations, and what he was now saying constituted a personal attack on Martagon himself: ‘Martagon has told us that Sir Arthur holds traditional values with which the Harpers’ ethos may be incompatible. And yet it appears, from what he tells us, that Martagon sees merit in a merger. Martagon, we do not have to be told, has the interests of Cox & Co., and of Sir Arthur, at heart. Martagon has also implied that Sir Arthur’s values and attitudes do not, altogether, tally with those of the modern world, to the detriment of the modern world. It is, nevertheless, as he made clear, the world we have to live in and in which Cox & Co. must survive and grow, without – hopefully – abandoning its high standards and business integrity. Martagon’s standards and integrity are not, of course, in question. It is, as he has said, up to each one of us to make a decision based on the information which has been placed at our disposal. Some of this is, to my mind, disquieting. Board members may feel we should obtain further and better particulars than those with which we have been supplied, about Harpers’ operations and practice and their financial credibility. Board members may feel that we should commission a report from a major and independent firm of accountants. Be that as it may, I should like on behalf of the board to thank Martagon for his admirable presentation of the situation – as he sees it.’
    Scree sat back and squared up the papers in front of him, banging the base of the stack decisively on the table. Arthur was looking more chipper.
    Fuck you, Scree, thought Martagon. You’re banking on the board being swayed by your speech into rejecting the merger. Then you’ll make Arthur believe you ‘saved’ the firm. Then I’ll be screwed. And you’ll probably get my job.
    Arthur grabbed at the idea of buying time by calling in outside accountants – until he realized that by doing so he would be admitting the possibility of negotiations.
    â€˜If we proceed, and I profoundly hope we do not, we shall need them for the due diligence. And we’ll need to be very thorough about that, with Harpers. Men of straw, you’ll find they are. Men of straw … But, no, no, on second thoughts, let us rather save the money. Obviously we are not going on with this. Really, we should bring this meeting to an end. There’s nothing more to be said, gentlemen.’
    â€˜Chairman, I’m not a gentleman,’ said Mirabel.
    â€˜Ah, Miss Plunket,’ said Arthur, thinking to put things right and making them worse, ‘I assure you that, in some platonic sense which I cannot quite define, you are, most definitely, a