Rachel returned to her office and a few moments later Seb’s phone buzzed.

“Mr. Goldsmith, this is Sebastian Clifton, returning your call.”

“I hear you visited Hakim in prison today. How is he?”

“He’s bearing up.”

“Like your shares.”

“So you’re the big player?”

“Let’s just say that I’m picking up any stock whenever it falls ten percent below its midpoint.”

“But why would you do that, Mr. Goldsmith? It could end up costing you a fortune.”

“For two reasons, Mr. Clifton. One, I’ve known Hakim since his university days and, like me, he despises people who deal in drugs.”

“And the second reason?”

“Let’s just say I owe him.”

“But you’re still taking one hell of a risk.”

“It’s a gamble, I admit. But when Hakim is proved innocent, and I have no doubt he will be, the bank’s shares will rebound, and when I sell them I’ll make a killing.”

“Mr. Goldsmith, I wonder if you could help me make another killing.”

Goldsmith listened carefully to Sebastian’s request. “When are you holding this emergency board meeting?” he asked.

“Tuesday morning, ten o’clock.”

“I’ll be there.”

*   *   *

Sebastian spent the rest of the day trying to return all his calls. He felt like the little Dutch boy with his finger in the dyke. Would it suddenly burst and drown them all?

He listened to the same questions again and again, and attempted to reassure each customer that Hakim was not only innocent, but the bank was in safe hands. He was pleasantly surprised by how many people were standing firm and were happy to back the chairman. Seb had made two lists, one of them labeled “Foul-weather friends” and the other “Fair-weather friends.” By seven o’clock that night, the “foul” list far outstripped the “fair.”

Seb was just about to call it a day when the phone rang again. He thought about ignoring it and going home but reluctantly picked it up.

“It’s Lord Barrington on the line,” said Rachel. “Shall I put him through?”

“Of course.”

“Hello, Seb. I’m sorry to disturb you. You must have had a very trying day. But I wondered if you could spare a moment.”

“Of course,” Seb repeated.

“Some time ago you asked me if I’d like to join the board of Farthings. I’m calling to find out if the offer is still open.”

Sebastian was speechless.

“Are you still there, Seb?”

“Yes,” he managed eventually.

“I would consider it a great honor to serve under Hakim Bishara,” said Giles, “if he still felt I could be of any assistance.”

*   *   *

When the phones were no longer ringing off the hook, Sebastian finally decided to go home, although there was one person he still had to call. But he decided it would be easier to speak to her from the privacy of his flat.