As the Crow Flies (71 page)

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Authors: Jeffrey Archer

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“On
the first occasion he watched the boy perform in a school concert Brahms, if I
remember correctly and on a second saw Daniel receive the Newton Prize for
Mathematics from the High Master on Founders’ Day. I believe you were also
present on that occasion. On both visits Sir Raymond went out of his way to be
sure that the boy was unaware of his presence. After the second visit, Sir
Raymond was totally convinced that Daniel was his great-grandchild. I’m afraid
all the men in that family are stuck with that Hardcastle jaw, not to mention a
tendency to sway from foot to foot when agitated. Sir Raymond accordingly
altered his will the following day.”

The
solicitor picked up a document bound in a pink ribbon which lay on his desk. He
untied the ribbon slowly. “I was instructed, madam, to read the relevant
clauses of his will to you at a time I considered appropriate but not until
shortly before the boy celebrates his thirtieth birthday. Daniel will be thirty
next month, if I am not mistaken.”

Becky
nodded.

Baverstock
acknowledged the nod and slowly unfolded the stiff sheets of parchment.

“I
have already explained to you the arrangements concerning the disposal of Sir
Raymond’s estate. However, since Miss Amy’s death Mrs. Trentham has had the
full benefit of any interest earned from the Trust, now amounting to some forty
thousand pounds a year. At no time to my knowledge did Sir Raymond make any
provision for his elder grandson, Mr. Guy Trentham, but since he is now
deceased that has become irrelevant. Subsequently he made a small settlement on
his other grandson, Mr. Nigel Trentham.” He paused. “And now I must quote Sir
Raymond’s exact words,” he said, looking down at the will. He cleared his
throat before continuing.

“‘After
all other commitments have been honored and bills paid, I leave the residue of
my messuage and estate to Mr. Daniel Trumper of Trinity College, Cambridge, the
full benefit of which will come into his possession on the death of his
grandmother, Mrs. Gerald Trentham.’”

Now
that the lawyer had at last come to the point Becky was stunned into silence.
Mr. Baverstock paused for a moment in case Becky wished to say something, but
as she suspected that there was still more to be revealed she remained silent.
The lawyer’s eyes returned to the papers in front of him.

“I
feel I should add at this point that I am aware as indeed Sir Raymond was of
the treatment you have suffered at the hands both of his grandson and his
daughter, so I must also let you know that although this bequest to your son
will be considerable, it does not include the farm at Ashurst in Berkshire or
the house in Chester Square. Both properties, since the death of her husband,
are now owned by Mrs. Gerald Trentham. Nor does it include and I suspect this
is of more importance to you the vacant land in the center of Chelsea Terrace,
which forms no part of Sir Raymond’s estate. However, everything else he
controlled will eventually be inherited by Daniel, although, as I explained,
not until Mrs. Trentham has herself passed away.”

“Is
she aware of all this?”

“Indeed,
Mrs. Trentham was made fully conversant with the provisions in her father’s
will sometime before his death. She even took advice as to whether the new
clauses inserted after Sir Raymond’s visits to St. Paul’s could be contested.”

“Did
that result in any legal action?”

“No.
On the contrary, she quite suddenly, and I must confess inexplicably,
instructed her lawyers to withdraw any objections. But whatever the outcome,
Sir Raymond stipulated most clearly that the capital could never be used or
controlled by either of his daughters. That was to be the privilege of his next
of On.

Mr.
Baverstock paused and placed both palms down on the blotting paper in front of
him.

“Now
I will lankily have to tell him,” murmured Becky under her breath.

“I
feel that may well be the case, Lady Trumper. Indeed, the purpose of this
meeting was to brief you fully. Sir Raymond was never quite sure if you had
informed Daniel who his father was.”

“No,
we never have.”

Baverstock
removed his glasses and placed them on the desk. “Please take your time, dear
lady, and just let me know when I have your permission to contact your son and
acquaint him with his good fortune.”

“Thank
you,” said Becky quietly, sensing the inadequacy of her words.

“Finally,”
said Mr. Baverstock, “I must also let you know that Sir Raymond became a great
admirer of your husband and his work, indeed of your partnership together. So
much so that he left a recommendation with this office that, were Trumper’s
ever to go public, which he anticipated they would, we were to invest a sizable
stake in the new company. He was convinced that such an enterprise could only
flourish and therefore prove to be a first-class investment.”

“So
that’s why Hambros invested ten percent when we went public,” said Becky. “We
always wondered.”

“Precisely,”
Mr. Baverstock added with a smile, almost of satisfaction. “It was on my
specific instructions that Hambros applied for the shares on behalf of the
Trust, so that there could never be any reason for your husband to be
apprehensive about such a large outside shareholder.

“The
amount was in fact considerably less than the estate received from dividends
during that year. However, more important, we were aware from the offer
documents that it was Sir Charles’ intention to retain fifty-one percent of the
company, and we therefore felt it might be some relief for him to know that he
would have a further ten percent under his indirect control should any
unforeseen problem arise at some time in the future. I can only hope that you
feel we have acted in your best interests, as it was always Sir Raymond’s wish
that you should be told the full facts at a time that I considered appropriate,
the only stipulation as I have already explained was that such information was
not to be revealed to your son before his thirtieth birthday.”

“You
couldn’t have been more considerate, Mr. Baverstock,” said Becky. “I know
Charlie will want to thank you personally.”

“That
is most kind of you, Lady Trumper. May I also add that this meeting has been a
genuine delight for me. Like Sir Raymond, I have had considerable pleasure over
the years in following the careers of all three of you, and I am delighted to
be playing a small part in the company’s future.”

Having
completed his task, Mr. Baverstock rose from his side of the desk and
accompanied Becky silently to the front door of the building. Becky began to
wonder if the solicitor spoke only when he had a brief.

 

“I
shall wait to hear from you, dear lady, as to when I may be permitted to
contact your son.”

CHAPTER 38

T
he weekend
after Becky’s visit to Mr. Baverstock she and Charlie drove to Cambridge to see
Daniel. Charlie had insisted that they could procrastinate no longer and had
telephoned Daniel that evening to warn him that they were coming up to Trinity
as there was something of importance they needed to ted him. On hearing this
piece of news Daniel had replied, “Good, because I’ve also got something rather
important to tell you.”

On
the journey to Cambridge, Becky and Charlie rehearsed what they would say and
how they were going to say it, but still came to the conclusion that however
carefully they tried to explain what had happened in the past, they could not
anticipate how Daniel would react.

“I
wonder if he’ll ever forgive us?” said Becky. “You know, we should have told
him years ago.”

“But
we didn’t.”

“And
now we’re only letting him know at a time when it could be to our financial
benefit.”

“And
ultimately to his. After all, he’ll eventually inherit ten percent of the
company, not to mention the entire Hardcastle estate. We’ll just have to see
how he takes the news and react accordingly.” Charlie accelerated when he came
to a stretch of dual carriageway the other side of Rickmansworth. For some time
neither of them spoke until Charlie suggested, “Let’s go through the order once
again. You’ll start by telling him how you first met Guy... “

“Perhaps
he already knows,” said Becky.

“Then
he surely would have asked... “

“Not
necessarily. He’s always been so secretive in the past, especially when dealing
with us.”

The
rehearsal continued until they had reached the outskirts of the city.

Charlie
drove slowly down the Backs past Queens College, avoiding a bunch of
undergraduates who had strayed onto the road, and finally right into Trinity
Lane. He brought his car to a halt in New Court and he and Becky walked across
to entrance C and on up the worn stone staircase until they reached the door
with “Dr. Daniel Trumper” painted above it. It always amused Becky that she
hadn’t even discovered that her son had been awarded his Ph.D. until someone
addressed him as Dr. Trumper in her presence.

Charlie
gripped his wife’s hand. “Don’t worry, Becky,” he said. “Everything will be all
right, you’ll see.” He gave her fingers a squeeze before knocking firmly on
Daniel’s door.

“Come
on in,” shouted a voice that could only have been Daniel’s. The next moment he
pulled open the heavy oak door to greet them. He gave his mother a huge hug
before ushering them both through to his untidy little study where tea was
already laid out on a table in the center of the room.

Charlie
and Becky sat down in two of the large and battered leather chairs the college
had provided. They had probably been owned by the past six inhabitants of the
room, and brought back memories for Becky of the chair that she had once
removed from Charlie’s home in Whitechapel Road and sold for a shilling.

Daniel
poured them both a cup of tea and began to toast a crumpet over the open fire.
Nobody spoke for some time and Becky wondered where her son had come across
such a modern cashmere sweater.

“Good
journey down?” Daniel asked eventually.

“Not
bad,” said Charlie.

“And
how’s the new car running in?”

“Fine.”

“And
Trumper’s?”

“Could
be worse.”

“Quite
a little conversationalist, aren’t you, Dad? You ought to apply for the
recently vacated chair of professor of English.”

“Sorry,
Daniel,” said his mother. “It’s just that he’s got rather a lot on his mind at
the moment, not least the subject we have to discuss with you.”

“Couldn’t
be better timing,” said Daniel, turning the crumpet over.

“Why’s
that?” asked Charlie.

“Because,
as I warned you, there’s something rather important I have to discuss with you.
So who goes first?”

“Let’s
hear your news,” said Becky quickly.

“No,
I think it might be wise if we went first,” Charlie intervened.

“Suits
me.” Daniel dropped a toasted crumpet onto his mother’s plate. “Butter, jam and
honey,” he added, pointing to three small dishes that rested on the table in
front of her.

“Thank
you, darling,” said Becky.

“Get
on with it then, Dad. The tension’s becoming too much for me to bear.” He turnd
a second crumpet over.

“Well,
my news concerns a matter we should have told you about many years ago and
indeed would have done so only... “

“Crumpet,
Dad?”

“Thank
you,” said Charlie, ignoring the steaming offering that Daniel dropped onto his
plate, “... circumstances and a chain of events somehow stopped us from getting
round to it.”

Daniel
placed a third crumpet on the end of his long toasting fork. “Eat up, Mum,” he
said. “Otherwise yours will only get cold. In any case, there’ll be another one
on its way soon.”

“I’m
not all that hungry,” admitted Becky.

“Well,
as I was saying,” said Charlie. “A problem has arisen concerning a large
inheritance that you will eventually... “

There
was a knock on the door. Becky looked desperately towards Charlie, hoping that
the interruption was nothing more than a message that could be dealt with
quickly. What they didn’t need at that moment was an undergraduate with an
interminable problem. Daniel rose from the hearth and went over to the door.

“Come
in, darling,” they heard him say and Charlie stood up as Daniel’s guest entered
the room.

“How
nice to see you, Cathy,” Charlie said. “I had no idea you were going to be in
Cambridge today.”

“Isn’t
that typical of Daniel,” said Cathy. “I wanted to warn you both, but he wouldn’t
hear of it.” She smiled nervously at Becky before sitting down in one of the
vacant chairs.

Becky
glanced across at the two of them seated next to each other something worried
her.

“Pour
yourself some tea, darling,” said Daniel. “You’re just in time for the next
crumpet and you couldn’t have arrived at a more exciting moment. Dad was just
about to let me into the secret of how much I might expect to be left in his
will. Am I to inherit the Trumper empire or shall I have lo be satisfied with
his season ticket to the West Ham Football Club?”

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