Be Careful What You Wish For (The Clifton Chronicles) Read online

  Buchanan was stunned into a silence that was interrupted by a knock on the door. He looked up to see the young man who had met him in the front hall.

  “Ross, I don’t think you’ve met my personal assistant.”

  14

  EVERYONE STOOD WHEN Mr. Hardcastle entered the room. It had taken Sebastian some time to get used to the esteem in which those who worked at Farthings clearly held their chairman. But when you’ve slept in the next bed to a man for months on end, and seen him unshaven, in his pajamas, peeing into a bottle and snoring, it’s quite difficult to be in awe of him, although within days of their first meeting, Sebastian had come to respect the banker from Huddersfield.

  Mr. Hardcastle waved them down and took his seat at the head of the table.

  “Good morning, gentlemen,” he began, looking around at his colleagues. “I’ve called this meeting because the bank has been offered an extraordinary opportunity that, if handled correctly, might open up a whole new stream of income that could benefit Farthings for many years to come.”

  He had caught the team’s attention.

  “The bank has recently been approached by the founder and chairman of the Japanese engineering company Sony International, who are hoping to arrange a short-term, pre-fixed coupon loan of ten million pounds.”

  Cedric paused so he could study the expressions on the faces of the fourteen top executives seated around the table. They ranged from unconcealed disgust to what an exciting opportunity and almost everything in between. However, Cedric had prepared the next section of his presentation most carefully.

  “The war has been over for fourteen years. Nevertheless, some of you may still feel, as expressed so vividly by the Daily Mirror’s leader this morning, that we should never consider dealing with that ‘war-mongering bunch of Nip bastards.’ However, one or two of you may also have noticed the success the Westminster had when they signed a partnership deal with Deutsche Bank to build a new Mercedes plant in Dortmund. We are being offered a similar opportunity. I want to pause for a moment, and ask every one of you to consider what business will be like in fifteen years’ time. Not today, and certainly not fifteen years ago. Will we continue to display the same old prejudices, or will we have moved on and embraced a new order that accepts that there is a new generation of Japanese who should not be condemned by the past. If anyone in this room feels unable to deal with even the idea of doing business with the Japanese because it will reopen painful wounds, now is the time to make your position clear, because without your wholehearted support, this venture cannot hope to succeed. The last time I uttered those words, through clenched teeth, was in 1947, when I finally allowed a Lancastrian to open an account at Farthings.”

  The ripple of laughter that followed helped to break the tension, although Cedric didn’t doubt that he would still face opposition from some of his senior staff, and that a few of his more conservative customers might even consider moving their accounts to another bank.

  “Now, all I am able to tell you,” he continued, “is that the chairman of Sony International and two of his company directors plan to visit London in about six weeks. They have made it clear that we are not the only bank they are approaching, but at the same time they have let me know that we are at present their favored choice.”

  “Why would Sony even consider us, chairman, when there are several larger banks which specialize in this field?” asked Adrian Sloane, head of the currency exchange desk.

  “You may not believe it, Adrian, but last year I was interviewed by the Economist, and in the photograph taken at my home in Huddersfield, a Sony transistor radio is visible in the background. On such whims are fortunes made.”

  “John Kenneth Galbraith,” said Sebastian.

  A ripple of applause followed from one or two staff who would not normally have considered interrupting the chairman, which caused Sebastian to do something he rarely did, blush.

  “It’s good to know we have at least one educated person in the room,” said the chairman. “On that note, let’s get back to work. If anyone wants to discuss this matter privately, you don’t have to make an appointment, just come and see me.”

  When Cedric returned to his office, Sebastian quickly followed him, and immediately apologized for his off-the-cuff remark.

  “No need, Seb. In fact, you helped clear the air, at the same time as raising your status among the senior staff. Let’s hope it will encourage one or two others to stand up to me in the future. But on to more important matters. I have a job I need you to do.”

  “At last,” said Sebastian, who was sick of escorting valued customers up and down in the lift, only to see the door closed in his face the moment they entered the chairman’s office.

  “How many languages do you speak?”

  “Five, if you include English. But my Hebrew is a little rusty.”

  “Then you’ve got six weeks to learn passable Japanese.”

  “Who will decide if I pass?”

  “The chairman of Sony International.”

  “Ah, so no pressure then.”

  “Jessica told me that when you were on holiday in the family villa in Tuscany, you picked up Italian in three weeks.”

  “Picked up is not mastering,” said Sebastian. “In any case, my sister does have a tendency to exaggerate,” he added, looking at a drawing of Cedric in bed at the Princess Alexandra Hospital, entitled, Portrait of a Dying Man.

  “I don’t have another candidate in mind,” said Cedric, handing him a prospectus. “London University is currently offering three courses in Japanese—beginners, intermediate and advanced. So you’ll be able to spend two weeks on each.” Cedric at least had the grace to laugh.

  The phone on the chairman’s desk began to ring. He picked it up, listened for a few moments and said, “Jacob, it’s good of you to return my call. I needed to have a word with you about the Bolivian mine project, because I know you’re the lead financier…”

  Sebastian left the room, closing the door quietly behind him.

  * * *

  “Protocol is the key to understanding the Japanese psyche,” said Professor Marsh as he looked up at the tiered ranks of expectant faces. “It’s every bit as important as mastering the language.”

  Sebastian had quickly discovered that the beginners, intermediate and advanced classes were held at different times of the day, which made it possible for him to attend fifteen classes each week. This, combined with the hours he had to devote to countless books, a tape recorder and a dozen tapes, meant he had hardly a moment left to eat or sleep.

  Professor Marsh had become used to seeing the same young man sitting in the front row of his lectures, furiously scribbling notes.

  “Let us begin with the bow,” said the professor. “It is important to understand that the bow in Japanese circles reveals far more than shaking hands does for the British. There are no different degrees of handshake, other than firm or weak, and as a result the handshake does not reveal either participant’s social standing. For the Japanese, however, there is an entire code when it comes to bowing. Starting at the top, only the emperor bows to no one. If you are meeting someone of your own rank, you both nod—” the professor gave a measured jerk of the head. “But if, for example, the chairman of a company had a meeting with his managing director, the chairman would merely nod while the managing director would bow thus, bending from the waist. Should a worker come across the chairman, he would bow very low, so their eyes did not meet, and the chairman might not even acknowledge him, just pass by.”

  “So,” said Sebastian after he’d returned to the bank later that afternoon, “if I was Japanese and you were chairman, I would bow very low to show I knew my place.”

  “Some hope,” said Cedric.

  “And you,” said Sebastian ignoring the comment, “would either nod, or simply walk by. So when you see Mr. Morita for the first time, as the meeting is taking place in your country, you must allow him to nod first, return the compliment and then exchange
business cards. If you really want to impress him, your business card will be in English on one side and Japanese on the reverse. When Mr. Morita presents his managing director, he will bow low, but you will just nod again. And when he introduces the third person in his party, he will bow even lower, while once again you will just nod.”

  “So I just go on nodding. Is there anyone I should bow to?”

  “Only the emperor, and I don’t think he’s looking for a short-term loan at the present time. Mr. Morita will see that you are placing him above his colleagues, and equally important, his colleagues will appreciate the respect you have shown for their chairman.”

  “I think this whole philosophy should be put into practice at Farthings immediately,” said Cedric.

  “And then there is the tricky etiquette when you dine together,” continued Sebastian. “At a restaurant, Mr. Morita must order first and be served first, but he cannot begin his meal before you do. His colleagues cannot start before he does, but they must finish just before him.”

  “Imagine if you were at a dinner party for sixteen, and you were the most junior person present…”

  “You’d get indigestion,” said Sebastian. “However, at the end of the meal, Mr. Morita will not leave the table until you rise and ask him to join you.”

  “What about women?”

  “A minefield,” said Sebastian. “The Japanese cannot understand why an Englishman stands when a woman enters the room, allows them to be served first, and won’t lift their knife and fork until their wives do.”

  “Are you suggesting it would be better to leave Beryl in Huddersfield?”

  “That might be wise given the circumstances.”

  “And what if you were to join us for dinner, Seb?”

  “I would have to order last, be served last, begin my meal last and leave the table last.”

  “Another first,” said Cedric. “By the way, when did you learn all this?”

  “This morning,” said Sebastian.

  * * *

  Sebastian would have given up the beginners’ class by the end of the first week if he hadn’t become distracted. He tried to concentrate on what Professor Marsh was saying, but all too often he found himself glancing back in her direction. Although she was a lot older than Sebastian, thirty, perhaps even thirty-five, she was very attractive, and the boys at the bank had assured him that women who worked in the City often preferred younger men.

  Sebastian turned and looked in her direction again, but she was concentrating on every word the professor had to say. Or was she just playing hard to get? There was only one way he was going to find out.

  When the lecture finally came to an end, he followed her out of the hall, and decided she was just as attractive from behind. A pencil skirt revealed a slim pair of legs he was happy to follow into the student bar. His confidence grew when she walked straight up to the counter, and the barman immediately reached for a bottle of white wine. Sebastian sat down on the stool next to her.

  “Let me guess, a glass of chardonnay for the lady, and I’ll have a beer.”

  She smiled.

  “Coming up,” said the barman.

  “My name’s Seb.”

  “I’m Amy,” she replied. The American accent took him by surprise. Was he about to find out if American girls were as easy as the guys at the bank claimed?

  “So what do you do when you’re not studying Japanese?” asked Sebastian as the barman placed two drinks on the counter.

  “That’ll be four shillings.”

  Sebastian handed over two half-crowns and said, “Keep the change.”

  “I’ve just retired as an air hostess,” she said.

  Could this get any better, thought Sebastian. “What made you pack it in?”

  “They’re always on the lookout for younger recruits.”

  “But you can’t be a day over twenty-five.”

  “I wish,” she said, before taking a sip of her wine. “And what do you do?”

  “I’m a merchant banker.”

  “That sounds exciting.”

  “Sure is,” said Sebastian. “Earlier today I closed a deal with Jacob Rothschild to buy a tin mine in Bolivia.”

  “Wow, that makes my world look pretty mundane. So why are you learning Japanese?”

  “The head of the Far East desk has just been promoted, and I’m on the shortlist for his job.”

  “Aren’t you a little young for such a responsible position?”

  “Banking is a young man’s game,” said Sebastian, as she finished her wine. “Can I get you another?”

  “No, but thank you. I’ve got a lot of revision to do, so I’d better go home if the professor isn’t going to find me out tomorrow.”

  “Why don’t I come with you, and we can revise together?”

  “Sounds tempting,” she said, “but it’s raining, so we’ll need a taxi.”

  “Leave it to me,” he said, giving her a warm smile. Sebastian almost ran out of the bar, and straight into the pouring rain. It took him some time to find a taxi, and when he eventually flagged one down he could only hope she didn’t live too far away, because he was down to loose change. He spotted her standing behind the glass door and gave her a wave.

  “Where to, guv?”

  “Can’t be sure, don’t know where the lady lives,” said Sebastian, giving the cabbie a wink. He turned to see Amy running toward the cab, and quickly opened the back door so she wouldn’t get soaked. She slid into the seat, and he was just about to join her when a voice behind him said, “Thank you, Clifton. Good of you to find my wife a taxi in this dreadful weather.

  “See you tomorrow,” added the professor as he pulled the cab door closed.

  15

  “GOOD MORNING, MR. Morita. What a pleasure to meet you,” said Cedric, giving a smart nod.

  “And it’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Hardcastle,” he ventured, returning the compliment. “May I introduce my managing director, Mr. Ueyama?” He in turn stepped forward and bowed respectfully. Cedric nodded again. “And my private secretary, Mr. Ono,” who bowed even lower, but, once again, Cedric only gave a curt nod.

  “Please have a seat, Mr. Morita,” said Cedric, and then waited for his guest to sit down before he took his place behind his desk. “I hope you had a pleasant flight?”

  “Yes, thank you. I was able to catch a few hours’ sleep between Hong Kong and London, and it was most considerate of you to send a car and your personal assistant to meet us at the airport.”

  “My pleasure. And is your hotel comfortable?”

  “Very satisfactory, thank you, and most convenient for the City.”

  “I’m delighted to hear that. So, shall we get down to business?”

  “No, no, no!” said Sebastian, jumping up. “No Japanese gentleman would consider discussing business until he has been offered tea. In Tokyo, the tea ceremony would be conducted by a geisha and can last for thirty minutes or more, depending on how senior you are. Of course, he may turn the offer down, but he will still expect you to make it.”

  “I forgot,” said Cedric. “A foolish mistake and I won’t make it on the day. Thank heavens you’ll be there to rescue me if I do.”

  “But I won’t be able to,” said Sebastian. “I’ll be sitting at the back of the room with Mr. Ono. We’ll be making notes of your conversation, and neither of us would ever consider interrupting our masters.”

  “So when am I allowed to talk to him about business?”

  “Not until Mr. Morita has taken the first sip of his second cup of tea.”

  “But during the pre-business chat, should I mention my wife and family?”

  “Not unless he raises the subject first. He’s been married to Yoshiko for eleven years, and she occasionally accompanies him on his trips abroad.”

  “Do they have any children?”

  “He has three young children: two sons, Hideo, aged six, and Masao, four, and a daughter, Naoko, who’s only two.”

  “Am I allowed to tell him
that my son is a barrister and has recently become a QC?”

  “Only if he raises the subject of his own children first, which is most unlikely.”

  “I understand,” said Cedric. “Or at least I think I do. Do you think the chairmen of the other banks will be taking this much trouble?”

  “They’d better be, if they want the contract as much as you do.”

  “I’m very grateful, Seb. So how’s your Japanese coming along?”

  “It was going well until I made a complete fool of myself and tried to pick up the professor’s wife.”

  Cedric couldn’t stop laughing when Sebastian gave him a blow-by-blow account of what had happened the previous evening. “Soaked, you say?”

  “To the skin. I don’t know what it is with me and women, because I don’t seem to have the same pulling power as the other lads in the bank.”

  “I’ll tell you about the other lads,” said Cedric. “Once they’ve got a couple of pints in them, they’d have you believe they give James Bond lessons. And I can tell you, with most of them, it’s all talk.”

  “Did you have the same problem when you were my age?”

  “Certainly not,” said Cedric. “But then I met Beryl when I was six, and I haven’t looked at another woman since.”

  “Six?” said Sebastian. “You’re worse than my mother. She fell for my dad when she was ten, and after that the poor man never had a chance.”

  “Neither did I,” admitted Cedric. “You see, Beryl was the milk monitor at Huddersfield primary, and if I wanted an extra third of a pint … bossy little thing. Still is, come to think of it. But I’ve never wanted anyone else.”

  “And you’ve never even looked at another woman?”

  “Looked, yes, but that’s as far as it goes. If you’ve struck gold, why go in search of brass?”

  Sebastian smiled. “So how will I know when I’ve struck gold?”

  “You’ll know, my boy. Believe me, you’ll know.”

  * * *

  Sebastian spent the last two weeks before Mr. Morita’s plane was due to touch down at London Airport attending every lecture Professor Marsh had on offer, never once so much as glancing back at his wife. In the evening, he returned to his uncle Giles’s home in Smith Square, and after a light supper, when he abandoned his knife and fork in favor of chopsticks, he would return to his room, read, listen to tapes and regularly bow in front of a full-length mirror.