"Well, you know Hugo. He stammered and went a bit pink — he's not exactly a natural orator — and said something about trying to find some middle ground and how hard it was to please everyone. Ted roared in with, ‘Yes, and you end up pleasing the pockets of your board members!’ Hugo said that wasn't true but that obviously he was under tremendous pressure from both sides — which didn't help. Then Tommy cruised in, rather smoothly actually, and said that as a shareholder himself, and, having been to the last board meeting, which admittedly was poorly attended, he was acutely aware of Hugo's efforts to turn the company around and be more environmentally friendly. He said a scientist and a marine biologist had been appointed to the board and at least two of the old guard had been fired. He said that actually, Ted should inform himself of the facts before storming up here and complaining about one disaster, then conveniently tagging on another, which is far more complicated."

"Excellent!" I purred, momentarily supporting the lesser of two evils. "Good for Tommy."

"And what did Ted say?" demanded Celia, rooting for her man.

“Ted said he was thoroughly informed, actually, because one of the marine biologists was an erstwhile colleague of his at Imperial College who'd said his appointment to the board was pure tokenism. He said he didn't have a voice and that it was a gesture from Bellingdon Water to appear environmentally committed, but that they weren't interested in what the experts had to say at all, only profits."

“Splendid!" said Celia. She sat bolt upright, her face glowing.

"And Hugo?" I asked urgently.

"Oh, well, Hugo was sweet, of course, as always. He said he would absolutely promise to look into it, and if Ted would like to come up to the house for a proper meeting tomorrow, he'd listen to all he had to say."

"You see? Lovely." I sank back happily in my chair.

“That didn't mollify Ted," Babs said. “He spat, ‘Listen, sure, but you lot never do anything. I've heard it all before.’ And then he turned on his heel and stalked off."

"Rude man," I said angrily again.

"But passionate," sighed Celia wistfully. “Such tremendous passion. For the environment, for marine life, for ecology – all that wonderful, worthwhile stuff."

"Like Blue Planet," I reminded her. "Which you hate. Saying it's too blue and too fishy."

“That was before I got hooked."

"I'll say." I raised my eyebrows.

"No, I mean before I really concentrated and listened properly to Saint— Sir David," she said firmly, looking me in the eye and warning me not to let her down, should a certain marine-life lover come wandering over the dunes for a drink.

Babs was looking from one to the other of us, clearly increasingly perplexed at the line this conversation was taking.

"Hang on . . . you've written him off after one little encounter, Flora?"