That got Damien's attention. ‘You know him?’ he asked, surprise written all over his face.

Buher laughed at Damien's look of shock, and put his hand on the boy's shoulder. 'I asked about him,' said Buher with a smile. 'Just watching over you, Damien.'

Damien didn't quite know what to make of that remark. He half-blushed and turned his attention back to the cake.

But Buher was not so easily dismissed. 'Tell me, Damien,' he said, 'do you know what I do for Thorn Industries?'

Damien looked back at him and shook his head. 'Not really, sir.' He hoped his eyes had glazed over just enough to indicate that he was bored, but not enough so that he seemed totally rude.

'You should,' Buher insisted. ‘You should know all about the Thorn holdings. After all, they'll be yours one day.'

'And Mark's,' Damien corrected him.

'I meant "yours" in the plural sense,' said Buher, covering his tracks. This boy is no fool, he thought. Already well trained in diplomacy and tact. He decided to change his approach. 'Why don't you come to the main plant sometime soon?’ he said. ‘Take a look around.'

The suggestion appealed to Damien. 'Could I bring some friends?' he asked. Immediately he saw a way to get himself and his ever-growing circle of buddies out of class for a day, under the guise of a field trip.

'By all means,' said Buher, as expansive as a ward politician who has just locked up the whole South Side and doesn't much mind if he has to promise box lunches to secure it.

Just then, Richard Thorn tapped the side of a crystal goblet with a silver spoon; the tiny sound brought instant silence to the room as effectively as if he had fired off a gun. Even when he was casually dressed in a wool plaid shirt and a pair of jeans, as he was today, Thorn had an air that commanded attention.

Suddenly, there was champagne for everyone, brought in so unobtrusively that it seemed to have appeared miraculously. As the group assembled at the table, Richard raised his glass in a toast: 'It's at moments like this,' he said, 'that I feel like making a speech, toasting our luck, being thankful for everything we have. Because we do have a great deal. The Thorns are a privileged family and it is essential that we use our privileged position wisely and well. We must never forget that it wasn't always like this, and it won't continue to be like this unless we persist in working hard and in giving hard, to deserve what has been left to us. And that's all I have to say. Mark, you'll be glad to hear I'm not going to make a speech.'

'You just did, Dad,' said Mark, and everyone laughed.