Chapter Twenty-Nine
‘All of it? How can we have lost all of it?’ Hal looked at his father in cold horror.
‘Well, we took out a few loans and made a few investments. And now the investments have failed and they are calling in the loans. We are pretty much wiped out. They are almost certainly going to increase the mortgage as well.’
Hal’s jaw dropped. ‘What mortgage? Don’t tell me you took out a loan on the house?’
‘I did on Mellowstone Grange. We’ll have to sell that as well.’
‘But that’s…’ Hal’s voice had trailed off; what was the point? His father knew his plans for the charity. The row had got louder until James had slammed out of the house and Hal started to look through the accounts.
Now Hal had spent an appalling morning sending out e-mails, letters and making calls cancelling subscriptions. With every cancellation he chided himself for a fool. He had never thought to question where the money had come from. Certainly his family had grown up comfortably, but during his childhood there had been few acquisitions. If pressed to explain the newfound abundance of wealth he had assumed that the money came from Odette. He had always lived with money, more money didn’t strike him as suspicious. When his father had built him a physiotherapy pool to help with his ACL injury, he had simply accepted it with gratitude.
Telling his father he would fix everything, he was slightly alarmed at the alacrity with which James handed over all the passwords to all the accounts. Over the next few days, James took to walking out over the fields of his estate. Each morning he headed out with the dogs, only returning in the evening. Hal thought he was saying goodbye to the place and gearing up for the inevitable loss of the family home. Hal was determined that that would not happen, but for a while it was going to be hairy. He went off in search of his father whilst trying to avoid Odette. An earlier conversation with her had been difficult and he winced recalling her admonishment and his sharp reply.
‘You mustn’t blame your father.’
‘Odette, I don’t. Of course I don’t, but please don’t interfere. It’s clear that he overextended in an attempt to flatter his new bride. When we are in love we do stupid things. He is to blame but how can I be angry at him? Just please don’t lecture me right now. I have to try to save this estate. God knows what this is doing to his heart.’
Remembering the poor state of his father’s health, he was at a loss as to how to broach the subject. He was trying so hard not to be angry, but if only his father had loosened the reins earlier, Hal might have been able to head off some of the problems. Although, of course, now it was obvious why he hadn’t wanted his son further involved; James must have known he was overextended but was refusing to acknowledge it. Now it was here, front and centre and threatening bankruptcy.
He found his father in the gunroom, polishing some of his beloved guns. Hal knew the story behind each gun; he remembered the pride when his father first allowed him to use them. Now he just wondered how much he could sell them for. The problem was that Christie’s and all the other major auction houses were about to be flooded with a glut of precious antiques.
‘Hello, Dad. I think we’re going to have to sell some of the paintings.’
James looked up from his twelve-bore Purdy but didn’t reply.
Hal tried again. ‘Can we have a look around the house? I was thinking about the little Degas?’
James looked at him in horror. ‘Absolutely not, that was my wedding gift to your mother.’
‘Then it will have to be the Canaletto.’
If it was possible for James to look even more appalled it was hard to imagine. ‘How can you even suggest that? We bought that on our honeymoon.’
Hal tried to keep his temper.
‘Dad, if we don’t raise some serious funds we are going to lose the entire estate. I’ve already instructed the agents to put Mellowstone on the market. Tomorrow I’m in London meeting the accountants. You need to be prepared to get rid of stuff that mean a lot to you.’
James returned to his gun, polishing the butt. ‘Take what you like then,’ he spat at Hal. ‘Take the sodding Canaletto, take the Degas. Do what you want.’
Hal sighed and left the room. What the hell was going to become of them?
***
Hal leant against the bridge and watched as the Thames flowed on below him. How blissful it would be to jump on a boat and just sail away from all this mess. He had got engaged to a woman he didn’t love. The mother of his child wanted nothing to do with him and so far, he had had no involvement with her pregnancy. He had a barely formed charity about to collapse, a father he couldn’t stand to be in the same room as, and he was facing bankruptcy. His meeting with the estate’s accountant had been ugly. The man had spent most of the time explaining why he wasn’t to blame for any of his own advice over the decades. Hal knew that at the end of the day the decision did rest with his father, but who had been encouraging him to take out those more speculative investments? Who made a profit on those leads? The final slap had been when the man had had the nerve to draw Hal’s attention to his outstanding bill. Hal pointed out that he was part of a long line of people waiting to be paid. Maybe if he’d done his job better, he wouldn’t now be standing, cap in hand, along with the others.
Looking back, he knew he’d been harsh and somewhat unfair. Honesty is what he needed right now, not finding people to blame.
‘Pretty, isn’t it?’
Hal looked up, startled that someone had managed to approach him without him noticing. Looking across he was instantly reminded of Paddy and a massive smile cracked his face, but this girl had short dark hair and his smile softened in remembrance of Paddy and then he shook himself. This wasn’t Paddy; this was some girl out on a daily run. Shaking his head he remembered she had asked him a question.
‘Pretty?’
‘The city. Look at it. Full of people, yet paying them not a single bit of notice. It thrives and moves and we just have to negotiate around it.’
‘You make it sound like a living thing in itself.’
‘That’s how I see it. The buildings are like giant underground volcanic stacks; they grow on hot air, rising higher and higher. Between the buildings, the money flows in shoals, large single predators, small packs easily spooked and decimated. Giant slow-moving leviathans. And there we are, the little plankton, trying to avoid joining the food chain.’
‘Poet?’
‘The poetical pundit, I like it.’ Looking at Hal again she was glad to see a smile on his face. For a moment she had thought he was a jumper, but now she decided he was just a man with a lot on his mind.
‘Harrington’s?’
‘Is it that obvious? God, did you think I was going to jump!’ He looked appalled and ran his hand through his hair. ‘My life is just about the only thing I’ve got left, I’m not going to lose that as well. Plus, I need to find a way to launch my charity, which quite frankly, everyone is telling me to ditch.’
‘Fancy a coffee? I might be able to help?’
He looked her up and down with a raised eyebrow. ‘You don’t look like someone who can help, if you don’t mind me saying?’ She was dressed in lycra and trainers and not at all what he thought of when he imagined a financial analyst.
‘Phew,’ she dramatically wiped her hands across her brow. ‘Let me ask. Your current adviser? Blue pinstriped shirt. White collar. Navy suit. Large heavy gold watch?’
‘Do you know Clive?’
‘I know all the Clives. And I know how much money they have lost for their clients and nearly brought the whole bloody city to its knees in the past week. Harringtons has made the whole thing completely unstable at the moment.’
Hal looked at the grinning girl. ‘Why are you smiling? It’s making me feel sick.’
‘Partly because I didn’t lose anything and partly because this is what I love.’ She tucked her earbuds into her pocket. ‘Come on. Let’s have that coffee and see if I can help. My shout.’
Hal looked out over the river and back to the girl. What else was he going to do? ‘I think I can still afford a coffee. But why me?’
‘Oh I don’t know. Good feeling. Plus that was a bloody lovely smile you gave me when I said hello. I only have one client but I like to help others out now and then.’
‘And they haven’t lost a penny over this fiasco?’
‘A bit, simply because the market has slumped. But we’ve already clawed that back and are beginning to make some decent investments elsewhere. Everything is in flux. It’s fun!’
‘You’re not very tactful, are you?’
‘What’s the point? You’re not about to top yourself? Tact and deference got you into this mess.’
‘You are quite wise, if irritating.’
‘So you’ve given up on tact as well then?’
Hal laughed. ‘Do you know, you don’t half remind me of someone.’
‘Good or bad.’
‘Oh definitely good.’
‘Was that who you thought I was, when you smiled at me?’
‘Funnily enough yes.’ His face fell then, thinking about yet another area of his life that was a total screw up.
‘Mate, don’t worry about it. If she stops liking you because you’re broke she ain’t worth the effort. I’m Nick by the way.’
‘Nice to meet you, Nick, but the fact is she didn’t like me much before the crash either.’
He was about to spill his woes to another stranger; he must be suffering from verbal diarrhoea. He just wanted to talk about Paddy at any opportunity. Sam had laughed at him and then told him to step up. He imagined this girl would be the same.
‘Anyway, enough of that. I’m Henry by the way.’ The couple walked off the bridge towards a little coffee shop Nick favoured.
‘So, who is your client?’ He could see Nick weighing up whether she was going to share that information with him and was about to tell her it didn’t matter when she piped up.
‘Old English family.’
‘With no Harrington connections?’
‘Oh sure,’ she scoffed, ‘there were loads when I took the account on but oh boy, when I started looking into Harrington’s I didn’t like what I saw, so I pulled them out smartish. Bada boom, bada bing!’ She slapped her hands on the table attracting attention from some of the patrons; most smiled and nodded when they saw who it was.
‘My God, the bonus you’ll get this year will be stupendous,’ said Hal.
She shrugged and grinned. ‘I guess. Now let’s start looking at your problems.’
They were tucked away on a corner table and for the rest of the afternoon she ordered drinks and drilled him and took notes. At the end of the session, she leant back and stretched.
‘Right, this afternoon I’ll send you an e-mail of what I think you should do. The first being ditch your accountant. I have the name of a few young firms I rate. Check them out but make up your own mind. Investigate all my suggestions. I don’t know the ins and outs of your money, but you should. Some of these tips may not work. I’ll highlight which I think are riskier. I think you can save the house and most of your land. Selling off the Grange is a good call, as is the pictures. But let your stepmother have her subscription to Vogue back. Life’s going to be grotty for a few years, let her have her little pleasures.’
She took a glug of water. ‘Regarding the charity. Launch it but use your own money. You won’t find investors now anyway. You will need to cut to the bone for the charity but it’s worthwhile, so do it. Make your money mean something before you lose any more of it. I have an idea for an alternative venue which I think you’ll like, but let me get in touch with my sister. Now, this was fun. Thanks for letting me help. I’ll mail you later, plus my sister might write in a week or so.’
Hopping up from the table Nick called out to the chap behind the bar that she’d settle the tab later; flexing a bit she then ran off back into Canary Wharf. Hal felt like he’d been run over by a steam train. Could he dare hope?