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Don’t even think about it, Bertie, as your daughter would say.’
    ‘But Mother, something has to be done. I don’t think you quite realise the – the mess we’re in.’
    Athina looked at him sharply. ‘I prefer to regard it as a temporary difficulty, Bertie. And we should certainly not be rushed into some extremely unwise liaison of this sort.’
    ‘I don’t think it is temporary,’ said Bertie, his voice firmer now. ‘I think—’
    ‘Bertie,’ said Athina, ‘no.’
    But two days later the bank wrote to Lady Farrell and said they would like to remind her that Farrell’s were in breach of bank covenant and that they could call in the overdraft at any time. Perhaps she would like to make an appointment to discuss the situation?
    The meeting was unpleasant, culminating in a suggestion that the bank would put in a firm of accountants to do what they called an Independent Business Review and it was clear that they could end up with the company being declared insolvent. Athina, apparently cool, told them they would consider their position, but travelling back to the offices, Bertie could see, for the first time, a flash of panic in her eyes. His suggestion that they should, after all, perhaps meet with the people from Porter Bingham was met with a rather grudging nod.
    ‘Yes, all right, Bertie, if you really think it might do any good. May I say I very much doubt it?’
    The initial meeting at Porter Bingham’s gleaming head office in the City had done nothing to reassure Athina and she had, in fact, told them there could be no possibility of a collaboration as far as she could see and left mid-agenda, trailing a highly embarrassed Bertie. However, a fruitless journey round her own connections in the banking firmament had resulted in a further approach to Mike, via the unfortunate Bertie.
    ‘Mr Farrell,’ Mike said, ‘I greatly enjoyed meeting your mother and it only confirmed my opinion that she – all of you – have a considerable asset in your possession. She knows what she wants and where she is going, and believe me, that is a quality we value. Why don’t we come to your offices for a further meeting with the three of you, and talk some more?’
    Granted the confidence of being on her own territory, Athina became more malleable, and at a second meeting they had agreed to meet Bianca over lunch in the Porter Bingham boardroom; Bianca had been charming, displaying an almost equal blend of confidence and diffidence about the project, which had gained her, if not approval from Lady Farrell, a slight lessening of hostility. And so they had continued along the difficult, winding road towards today’s meeting – the purpose of which was to reach Heads of Terms.
    It was a long afternoon; progress was slow, patience stretched. Tea was brought in and cleared again, arguments came and went, concessions were offered and withdrawn, Pemberton and Rushworth raised endless points of order, argued every tiny detail, referred frequently to the past and generally held things up considerably.
    Hugh and Mike remained admirably patient.
    Six o’clock brought sherry, which everyone refused; another long hour passed.
    Mike cleared his throat.
    ‘I think it is time,’ he said, ‘to discuss the allocation of shares; that, after all, is the crucial issue as far as we are concerned. Your position is unaltered, I believe, Lady Farrell: you still insist on a majority share?’
    ‘Absolutely,’ said Athina. Her gaze was steely.
    Hugh and Mike looked at one another; Bianca knew this moment well. She had witnessed it before. In a game of chess it would be check, if not checkmate.
    ‘Lady Farrell,’ Mike said, looking at her with an extraordinary blank face, ‘the House of Farrell needs a very large investment to save it from extinction. At least ten million pounds to put it back on a sound footing, with a further injection of up to three million to fund the sort of development that Bianca might envisage. Are you really