“Just keep your head down, and remember it’s quite hard to sack someone who’s doing a good job.”

“You clearly haven’t met Sloane. He would have sacked Wellington on the morning of Waterloo if it would have guaranteed he became a general.”

“Don’t forget that Ross Buchanan is still the deputy chairman, and the most likely candidate to replace Cedric.”

“I hope you’re right,” said Seb.

“I’m sure Cedric kept Ross well briefed on Sloane’s activities. And please let me know when and where the funeral will take place, as your father and I will want to attend.”

* * *

“I’m so sorry to trouble you at a time like this, Mrs. Hardcastle, but we both know that Cedric would have expected nothing less of me.”

Beryl Hardcastle drew her woollen shawl tightly around her and shrank back, almost disappearing into the large leather armchair.

“What do you need me to do?” she whispered.

“Nothing too demanding,” said Sloane. “Just a couple of documents that need to be signed, and then I know the Reverend Johnson is waiting to take you through the order of service. His only concern is that the church won’t be large enough to accommodate the local community as well as all Cedric’s friends and colleagues who will be traveling up from London on Thursday.”

“He wouldn’t have wanted them to miss a day’s work for his sake,” said Beryl.

“I didn’t have the heart to stop them.”

“That’s very considerate of you.”

“It’s no more than he deserves,” said Sloane. “But there is still one small matter that needs to be dealt with.” He extracted three thick documents from his briefcase. “I just need your signature, so the bank can carry on with its day-to-day business.”

“Can it wait until this afternoon?” asked Beryl. “My son Arnold is on his way up from London. As you probably know, he’s a QC, and he usually advises me on any matters concerning the bank.”

“I fear not,” said Sloane. “I’ll have to take the two o’clock train back to London if I’m to keep all the appointments Mr. Hardcastle had scheduled. If it would help, I’ll happily send copies of the documents round to Arnold’s chambers as soon as I get back to the bank.” He took her by the hand. “I just need three signatures, Mrs. Hardcastle. But by all means read through the documents if you are in any doubt.”

“I suppose it will be all right,” Beryl said, taking the pen Sloane handed to her and making no attempt to read the densely typed small print. Sloane left the room and asked the vicar to join them. He then knelt down beside Mrs. Hardcastle, turned to the last page of the first document and placed a finger on the dotted line. Beryl signed all three documents in the presence of the Reverend Johnson, who innocently witnessed her signature.

“I look forward to seeing you again on Thursday,” said Sloane, getting up off his knees, “when we will recall with admiration and gratitude all that Cedric achieved in his remarkable life.”