It was not until midday that he caught him in the corridor as Charles was on his way into a meeting with Alistair. They spoke in hushed tones:
“What are you doing, Dad?”
Colin thrust the memorandum at his father’s face.
“Exercising my rights,” Charles replied stiffly.
“Flaunting them, more like.”
“You’ll make your arguments.”
“Like you’ve been doing, I’m sure,” meaning that Charles would have been working his way around the firm, drumming up his support. “Fine campaign slogan she makes, my sister.”
“My daughter,” Charles hissed back.
“They’ve probably got other lawyers by now,” Colin dissembled.
“Not the same as having Arnotts,” Charles said: lawyers can be changed more than once.
“For God’s sake,” Colin began.
Charles held up a hand.
“Not here. Not now. Lunch.”
Colin was shoc
