And, I reminded myself as I settled down in the dining-car, though I couldn’t be said to have earned any pennies for myself this trip, I had certainly saved Barbara’s grandfather a lot of pennies. What I had predicted a fortnight ago had happened far sooner than I had anticipated. Several of our big orders had fallen behind schedule, among them Tiffield’s. I had been sent to London to apologize humbly – but not too humbly – for the fact that delivery of both the KL 51 and XA 81 alloys would be at least a month later than promised and also, even if it meant giv­ing him rather better terms, to persuade him not to cancel either order. To my surprise Tiffield, though he had made no attempt to con­ceal his delight at Brown, through me, having been forced to plead cap-in-hand, had been more reasonable than I had dared to hope. There would be slightly less profit on the KL 51, but it was only to be expected that he’d extract some concessions. He was in a position to do so; though there wasn’t in the usual sense of the word, a time clause in the KL 51 contract, he would have been within his rights in refusing to accept a later delivery. Our only bargaining counter was the XA 81; and Tiffield Products was so large an organization that this really didn’t matter. The new process depended upon XA 81 and naturally Tiffield wanted to start production on schedule; but a few months’ delay wouldn’t break him and we weren’t the only firm capable of making the stuff.

It had all been settled quite casually; over the aperitifs I had outlined the position to him and before the coffee and brandy he had accepted it. Even the price reduction had been almost an afterthought; he had mentioned the figure as he was watching the waiter cook his steak, and I had simply nodded my assent. It was difficult to believe now that I had succeeded so easily just as it was difficult to believe that he had been serious about his offer of a job with Tiffield Products. I tried to remember his exact words, spoken just before I dropped him off at, of all places, a supermarket.

“Don’t worry, my boy,” he’d said. “Don’t worry. You’re bring­ing home the bacon. Your father-in-law will be delighted with you. Or should be.” It was then that he made the offer; muzzy with food and drink and triumph, I found myself interpreting his words as if they were referring to some other clever and energetic young man, who wasn’t perhaps sufficiently appreciated by his present employer, a young man who would give himself heart and soul to the Company and who in return . . . Perhaps a seat on the Board . . .