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.Not trusting myself to say anything useful quite yet, I resorted to offering tea.Ginny nodded from the depths of her hands.When I came back with the mugs she was sitting up again, blowing her nose.‘Sometimes in the night I dream that it didn’t happen,’ she breathed.‘I dream that it was just – well, a dream.And then I wake…’ She took the tea and her hands were trembling.‘You’ll tell Charles the whole story, won’t you?’She gave a tight shake of her head.‘Ginny – for God’s sake.’‘Oh, I suppose,’ she surrendered wearily.‘For what it’s worth.But it’s not going to do any good, is it?’‘Ginny, don’t be—’ I caught myself on the brink of saying ridiculous.‘There must be a way of proving what happened.But we can’t expect him to even begin to help us until he knows the truth.’‘But everyone’s going to think I’m making it up, aren’t they? They’re going to think I’m lying.I mean, who’s going to believe that I did what I did if it wasn’t to cover up for you? I mean, why would I bother, if you hadn’t killed her? Or if I hadn’t killed her? If neither…then why…’ In her weariness she was confused by her own argument and put a hand to her head.Emerging from her daze, she said simply, ‘It’s no good – I’ve thought it through, I’ve thought it through a million times.And Hugh—’ Her gaze was like a baffled animal’s.‘I can’t see any way out.And it frightens me to death.’I tried to keep my own fear out of my face as I pulled her against my shoulder and murmured reassurances which sounded empty even to my own ears.We lapsed into the silence of exhaustion, and when I finally spoke again I realised Ginny was beyond further talk.I took her up to bed and watched her count out her tablets and wash them down.As we lay in the darkness she grasped my arm and whispered apprehensively, ‘Thank you for believing me.’Knowing what she wanted to hear, knowing she wouldn’t sleep until she heard it, I said, ‘I never doubted you for a moment, darling.Not for a moment.’Later as I lay awake with no chance of sleep, I found myself believing almost too much of what she had said: I found myself believing that there was no way out.‘That’s right, isn’t it?’I wasn’t sure what George had just said, but I gave an authoritative nod.We were sitting in one of those conference rooms that looks identical to every other conference room in the City, with vertical slatted blinds at the picture windows, neutral walls and an ostentatious elliptical table that stretched almost the length of the room.Our small band was scattered round one end of the table.There was George and Alan and myself, one of our lawyers, and three Chartered Bank people.Significantly – or otherwise – the Chartered party did not include either of the two grey-suited executives who had smiled their way round Hartford on the conducted tour.Instead we had graduated to two full directors.Now that I was listening properly I realised that George was labouring a point that he had already made twice that morning.The bankers had not been impressed by his argument the first two times around and, hearing it a third time, were looking distinctly po-faced.George was asking them to knock a point off the interest rate they were demanding.He couldn’t see why we should pay over the going business rate.He couldn’t see that we were in a poor negotiating position, and that the bankers, having let themselves be talked into granting us the loan virtually against their better judgment, were in no mood to do us any more favours.The meeting had gone on too long, we were losing ground.Risking George’s wrath, I interrupted him in mid-stream.‘Suppose we agreed to carry this premium for a period of one year?’They didn’t commit themselves, but they didn’t turn it down either.They’d probably offer four years, and we’d settle on three, two if we were lucky, which wouldn’t be bad under the circumstances.They said they’d come back to us the next day.I could feel George looking daggers at me as we went down in the lift.He managed to restrain himself until we reached the street.‘It would be nice not to have the ground cut from under my feet,’ he said with barely concealed indignation.‘We were never going to win that one, George.’‘Maybe not, but it would have been nice to discuss it, feel we had a strategy.’‘We had to concede something.’‘Why the hell should we pay over the odds?’‘Because we have no choice, that’s why.’‘It’s another twenty grand a year!’‘We’ll have to live with it.’‘I’m not sure we can!’‘In that case we shouldn’t be here at all.’He retorted acidly, ‘Well, that’s a thought!’ Then, sighing hard, he shuffled his unwieldy feet and made an apologetic face.‘It gets me, that’s all, the way they squeeze us dry.’‘I know.’He cast a scornful eye over the glass canyons.‘It’s not as if they actually make anything, is it? Apart from fat salaries.You know, I’m never bothered by anything the factory throws at me.Employees’ problems, suppliers, later deliveries – you name it.No trouble.But this lot! They’d screw their own grandmothers, wouldn’t they? And then ask for another meeting to renegotiate the terms.You just never know where you bloody are with the slippery buggers.That’s what I can’t take!’‘Won’t be long now, George.’‘Ha! That’s true enough! Death or glory.’ He rolled his eyes, then, with a conciliatory expression, asked cautiously, ‘Look, Hugh…can you spare a couple of hours? I wouldn’t bother you, but Cumberland’s lawyers are trying to throw a whole new set of spanners in the works.And that’s only a half of our problems
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