“It’s Lady Virginia Fenwick, and she says it is urgent.”

“I can’t wait to hear what she’s got to say,” said Mellor.

“Good morning, Lady Virginia,” said Sloane, trying to keep the impatience out of his voice. “How nice to hear from you.”

“You may not feel that way when you know why I’m calling,” said Virginia. “I’ve just received a pretrial invoice from my solicitors for twenty thousand pounds that has to be settled before the first day of proceedings. You will recall, Adrian, giving me your word that you would cover the costs of my trial. Pennies, in the grand scheme of things, if I remember your words correctly.”

“I did indeed say that, Lady Virginia. But you will also remember that the offer depended on the successful outcome of our negotiations with Mr. Bishara, so I’m afraid—”

“But Major Fisher tells me you only have yourself to blame for that remarkable lack of judgement. You may take this as you wish, Mr. Sloane, but if you do not keep your word and cover my legal costs, let me warn you that I am not without influence in the City…”

“Are you threatening me, Lady Virginia?”

“As I said, Mr. Sloane, you may take it as you wish.”

*   *   *

Virginia slammed down the phone and turned to Fisher. “I’ll give him a couple of days to come up with the twenty thousand, otherwise—”

“That man won’t part with a penny unless you have a written agreement, and perhaps not even then. It’s the way he treats everyone. He promised me a place on the board of Farthings but since the Bishara deal fell through, I haven’t heard a word from him.”

“Well, I can promise you that he won’t be working in the City for much longer if I have anything to do with it. But I’m sorry, Alex, I’m sure that wasn’t the reason you wanted to see me.”

“No, it wasn’t. I thought you ought to know that I was issued with a subpoena this morning from Mrs. Clifton’s solicitors, putting me on notice that they intend to call me as a witness at your trial.”

*   *   *

“I’m sorry I’m late,” said Seb as he climbed on to the barstool. “When we came out of the theatre, it was raining, and I couldn’t find a taxi, so I had to drive my aunt to Paddington to make sure she didn’t miss the last train.”

“Worthy of a boy scout,” said Bishara.

“Good evening, sir,” said the barman. “Campari and soda?”

Seb was impressed, as he’d only visited the club once before. “Yes,” he replied, “thank you.”

“And what does your aunt do in Cambridge?” asked Bishara.

“She’s an English don at Newnham, the family’s bluestocking. We’re very proud of her.”

“You’re so unlike your fellow Englishmen.”