The End Game Read Online Free PDF Page A

caught few fish, but was very happy.
    In the event, it had not turned out as badly as Toby had feared. The dreaded Blackett had intervened very little, so far, in the running of the company, and all his interventions had been helpful. For the most part they had consisted of suggesting new outlets for Harmond products. Outlets, Toby suspected, in which Blackett also held a partial or a controlling interest. The only feature of the new regime which he found oppressive was the half-yearly report.
    This was an extensive document, covering every aspect of the company’s business. The factual bits he could fill in easily enough with the assistance of his chief accountant. It was the two blank pages at the end which baffled him. One was headed “Prospects,” the other “Ideas.” On the first occasion he had written, “Prospects good. Ideas—none,” and had been tersely informed, by Blackett in person, that this was not good enough.
    The two blank pages began to haunt him. He had never been good at expressing himself on paper and had never troubled to analyse the rationale of his business. Now he had to do both and had to do it every six months.
    “You’re a girl with ideas,” he said to Susan. “Why don’t you do it?”
    “It’s not my job.”
    “Just for this once.”
    “You’ve been at this all your working life. I’ve been here exactly three months.”
    “Exactly. You’ll be bringing a fresh mind to it. Come out to lunch and we’ll talk about it.”
    Over lunch they talked about it. And about other things. Susan had suspected for some time that Toby was working up to a proposal of marriage. He was not a young man who concealed his feelings. She hoped he never got into a game of high-stakes poker.
    The eating place he had chosen had those tall wooden pews which were a pain in the neck for the waiters, but gave diners a lot of privacy. They had been late starters and by the time they reached the coffee stage the place was nearly empty. For some minutes now Toby had been wearing the determined look of an infantryman about to go over the top.
    He said, “Susan.”
    “Yes, Mr Harmond.”
    “We’re not in the office now, remember.”
    “Yes, Toby.”
    “There’s something I want to ask you.”
    “There’s something I want to ask you, first.”
    Toby looked deflated. It was as though the attack had been called off at the last moment.
    “What’s that?”
    “Why are you scared of Blackett?”
    This had the hoped-for effect. Toby said, “Scared? I’m not scared of him. Who said I was scared of him?”
    “Then why do you look like a dog threatened with a bath when this half-yearly report form arrives?”
    Come to think of it, he was almost exactly like a golden Labrador they had had when she was young: large, friendly and without an ounce of guile.
    “It’s a bore,” said Toby. “I can never think of anything new to say.” At least, his mind seemed to be veering away from proposals of marriage. “I can put in all the guff in the first part. It’s the Prospects and Ideas bit which buffaloes me. I think you might lend a hand with it. After all, you are my secretary.”
    “I might be able to work out what Blackett wants if I had any idea what sort of man he was.”
    Toby took a lump of sugar out of the bowl and ate it to assist thought. He said, “I don’t really know a lot about him. Everyone says he’s a wonderful chap, and they must be right when you think what he’s done. He’s a sort of water diviner. He goes round with his hazel rod looking for money. When the rod gives a twitch, he knows he’s on to something worth backing and he backs it for all he’s worth.”
    “With money?”
    “Money and connections and advice.”
    Susan caught the waiter’s eye, and he refilled their coffee cups. Toby was safe for the next ten minutes. She said, “How did he start? Do you know?”
    “Only what I’ve heard Brandreth talking about. He did a lot of different things immediately after the war.