‘Masters is bumptious, argumentative and full of his own importance. And basically he’s as thick as a plank. I’m more certain than ever that he’s there purely because of Grant family connections. Anyway, he was going to give me the worst office in the entire building until I put up a huge fight. I insisted on my father’s office, which is the tradition, and he wouldn’t hear of it. I went at him hammer and tongs but he was absolutely bloody-minded about it. Obdurate. Finally he brought John Summers in to mediate, and much to Aubrey’s shocked surprise Summers agreed with me. Aubrey was furious, but John Summers is his superior at Deravenels. I won. I got my father’s old office.’
‘So John Summers was on your side, was he?’
‘I wouldn’t exactly say that!’ Edward shot back, throwing his cousin a pointed look. ‘However, he did insist that I was to be given Father’s old office, just brushed aside Masters’s objections. After that he disappeared. I never saw him again last week. He went to Wales, so I was told.’
‘Did Aubrey Masters give you anything to do?’
‘Not a damn thing. I was left to twiddle my thumbs. I went to the office every morning, and was greeted fairly cordially by almost everyone, except for Masters, of course, who was extremely grumpy, almost to the point of rudeness, in fact. However, I will say this, the other men treated me with the utmost civility, and that was that. Then they just ignored my presence.’
‘I see. Mmmm. Well, I’m not surprised. They’re accepting you because they have no alternative. You have every right to be there. That’s the company rule…the son steps into the father’s shoes, gets his office, becomes a junior director although not on the board, and then works his way up through the ranks. However, they’ve sort of rendered you ineffectual, simply by not passing on work for you to do. Clever in a sense; on the other hand, it’s rather ridiculous of them in the long run. It’s so transparent, as transparent as glass.’
‘I agree. However, dull and boring though it was I did learn a few things.’
Neville leaned forward, looked at Edward intently. ‘About what?’
Edward answered, ‘For one thing, about the current state of morale at Deravenels at this moment. It happens to be very low, and quite a few employees believe the company is not only in the doldrums but more than likely in the red. I also managed to ascertain that there are a couple of people who are in our camp, so to speak. And I have begun to understand a little bit about the workings of the company. Also, I now recognize its vastness, how truly enormous it actually is. I have always known, obviously, that it is one of the biggest trading companies in existence today. But Neville, until you’re actually faced with it on a day-to-day basis one doesn’t really understand completely what global means. In the case of Deravenels it is just that…the whole bloody world.’
‘First things first,’ Neville responded. ‘Who told you about the morale of the employees?’
‘I picked up on the low morale almost immediately, just through chatting to people. Oliveri had steered me in the right direction, pushed me towards those employees he thought might be friendly, who think Henry Grant should be removed. And they were the same ones who muttered about the company being in the red, and not what it once was,’ Edward told him. ‘As far as the vastness is concerned, Father had always drilled that into me, told me there was no other company like ours. But it was only when I stood in front of that huge map in his office and counted the little red flags he had placed there that I really understood. Deravenels covers the world …we seem to be in every country.’
‘Almost, yes.’ Neville leaned back in his chair, brought his long fingers together in an arc, thinking for a moment, and then he said quietly, ‘What you’ve told me is very good news. A company with low morale, because of bad management I presume, and one which is also in the red is very, very vulnerable, Ned. It can be picked off and taken over. By us. Of that I am absolutely sure. This is the most heartening information, and it certainly corroborates everything Alfredo has muttered about lately.’
Harrison, the butler, knocked, and opened the door. ‘Excuse me, sir, Mr Oliveri has arrived.’
Neville nodded, rose, and walked across the room to greet Alfredo Oliveri, who was being ushered in by the butler.
After shaking hands, the two men walked over to Edward, who hurried to greet Oliveri. They had become friends in Carrara, and in the past week in London that friendship had been carefully cemented.
Neville said, ‘Would either of you care for a drink?’
Both men shook their heads, and Edward murmured, ‘Perhaps a glass of wine at lunch, but nothing now, thank you.’
Alfredo indicated his agreement, then went on. ‘In my considered opinion, and after a lot of chit-chat at the office, I realize you may have more supporters and friends than enemies at Deravenels, Mr Edward. That may surprise you, but I feel sure that I am right.’
Both Edward and Neville appeared taken aback, and then Edward said, ‘I did note that several of the men you introduced me to were exceptionally cordial, Alfredo, but I just assumed I had mostly enemies there—’
‘Oh you do have some,’ Alfredo cut in, ‘those who are cronies of Henry Grant, whose fathers have been allied on his side, usually because of their fathers and old loyalties. Let’s not forget, that particular faction of the Deravenel family has been in control for sixty years now. A long time.’
‘Far too long,’ Neville murmured, giving Edward a knowing look.
Edward asked, ‘Who are my friends within the company? I’d like to know their names.’
Oliveri pulled a piece of paper out of the inside pocket of his jacket, opened it, and began to read: ‘Rob Aspen, David Halton, Christopher Green, Frank Lane. Those men are well disposed to you for sure. They’ve made that perfectly clear to me this week, and of their own volition, I might add. I also believe that Sebastian Johnson and Joshua Kennett are favourable, would be in your corner. Certainly those two have long been dissatisfied with current management, have begun to grumble, and a lot more loudly, about the company being mismanaged.’
‘I know that John Summers is my enemy, and also Aubrey Masters,’ Edward began and fixed his eyes on Alfredo. ‘So who else has me in their sights?’
‘James Cliff, who’s exceptionally close to Summers and also very chummy with Margot Grant, as is Summers. Then I would add Andrew Trotter, Percy North, Philip Dever and Jack Beaufield. Several of those men are on the board, because of their fathers’ connection to the Grants over many years. But, of course, your friends Rob Aspen, David Halton and Frank Lane are board members as well.’
‘It looks as if it’s fairly evenly balanced,’ Neville interjected, sounding pleased. ‘The thing is, we must try and win more of the men over, don’t you think, Oliveri?’
‘Absolutely, and don’t forget, I am on your side as well, even though I’m in Italy part of the time. But you can always count on me. And I’ll come at once if you need me to be in London.’
‘That reminds me of something,’ Edward said, smiling at Alfredo. ‘When we win this war I shall get rid of Aubrey Masters immediately. And I am offering you his job now, Oliveri. It would please me if you’d take it.’
Alfredo chuckled. ‘Talk of self-confidence! You certainly have it. I agree with you, we will win, and of course I’ll take the job. Thank you. I’ve wanted to move to London for several years now. I even discussed it with your father, at one point, and he agreed with me that I should really be here. But naturally nothing ever happened.
‘What about your wife? Would she mind moving?’ Neville asked.
‘No, not at all. She’s English, as you know, and whilst she loves Italy as much as I do, I know she would welcome a change.’ Alfredo smiled at them. ‘It’s a deal as far as I’m concerned.’