The Actuary

by K T Bowes

  Chapter 6

  “What do you do for a living now?” Emma tried to make conversation as Rohan indicated and pulled out onto the main highway, moving south through the English countryside.

  “I’m an actuary,” he replied, knitting his brow at a transit van following too close behind. “Em, just look behind us, will you? Did you notice that transit anywhere around your house over the last twenty-four hours?”

  Emma turned her head, taking a cursory look out the back window but mainly checking on Nicky. He slept on the back seat, his cheeks pink and his blonde hair tousled. A line of dribble worked its way down his chin. “Nope. I don’t remember it. It can’t have been on our estate. It’s still got wheels.”

  Rohan snorted with laughter and then realised she was serious. “It was pretty bad there,” he agreed. “Thank goodness for Fat Brian and his protection racket!”

  “He’s actually quite a good bloke,” Emma sighed. “They all are really, just stuck in a bad rut. Like me.” She looked out of the window at the green fields rolling by and stretched her body out, feeling the tension leave her spine. “You always liked maths at school, so I guess an actuary was your kind of thing.”

  “You know what one is?” He sounded impressed.

  “Isn’t it someone who works out risk for major corporations? So if there’s a massive earthquake and buildings get damaged, you work out how much to put everyone’s insurance premiums up by next year to cover the debt and ensure the company doesn’t suffer a loss?”

  “Kind of,” Rohan answered. “That’s basically it, yeah.” Rohan turned the indicator on and moved into the outside lane as a light rain began to speckle the windscreen. “Ok, so, say a disgruntled employee at a bank steals a list of highly sensitive information, well, knowledge is power and he can potentially use it in a number of ways.”

  “Like the bank teller recently, who stole information about customers involved in tax evasion and handed it over to the British government?”

  “Yeah, sort of like that. So the company he worked for would have got actuaries crunching the numbers straight away, working out the financial risks involved with each possible outcome. The employee could have held them to ransom or published the information on a blog or public forum. Or he could do what he did and hand it over to Her Majesty’s Revenue and Customs. He’s out of a job the second he acted, but an actuary works out the significant risks of different situations based on mathematical calculation and in my case, experience. Each of those scenarios carries a level of threat and the bank needed to know what each one entailed; how every single one would affect them as a corporate, right from the financial hit they could potentially take on the stock market, to the cost in terms of customer perception and goodwill. Ultimately, they’ll pass the risk on to the customer, so an actuary works out how much it can be spread across a particular set of clients without disrupting business or sending customers to find another bank. If it’s so obvious it makes customers leave, it’s counterproductive, because the bank ends up paying for the risk anyway. It’s a complicated business and the bank would have brought in heaps of people with different skill sets to sort it out from public relations to operations managers. I’m part of that whole process, but I’m brought in usually when it’s all gone a bit too far.”

  Emma watched the concentration on Rohan’s face as he changed lanes again, increasing the speed of the wipers to cope with the deluge. “Do you work for a bank then?”

  Rohan shook his head. “No, I’m...free-lance, I guess. I work for whoever pays me at the time. Ultimately I work for myself.”

  “Is that what you did in the army? Her voice sounded small and far away, hurt creeping into her tone. “Calculated risk with mathematical formulae?”

  “It was broader than that.” Rohan glanced sideways at her, picking up on her perception of something he hadn’t actually said. “I monitored security systems and worked out logistics.” He scuffed over a role he still couldn’t discuss. “In my down time I did university papers and by the end of my army career, I only needed a year’s worth of papers left to finish a degree. I had plenty of time to do them because...” Rohan paused and bit his lip, causing Emma to peer at him covertly, disarmed when he continued. “So I graduated with honours. I started working for a major bank which underwrites insurers when I was twenty-two and did more exams fairly continuously for two years. I guess my army experience gave me a route into other kinds of actuary work.”

  “I remember you doing university papers when you came home on leave.” Emma sounded wistful. “I thought you were so clever; I hated maths. I’m glad you carried on. I’m pleased your life didn’t stop...” She almost said, like mine, but prevented the words escaping. It wasn’t true anyway. She did well under the circumstances. She glanced back at Nicky again and smiled. His eyes were still shut and his head lolled forward. Emma reached round and pushed on his forehead to take the pressure off his neck. The boy grunted and shifted position.

  Emma sat round in her seat again, brushing Rohan’s arm with her face as she turned. He looked at her and smiled, his blue eyes twinkling. “My job title is an actuary, but I’ve strayed more into the area of risk management so it makes me more money than friends.”

  “Hence the expensive car,” Emma smiled and Rohan narrowed his eyes. “I’m not criticising,” Emma added. “It’s just my jealousy talking.”

  Rohan laughed. “That’s what I love about you. Your honesty. When we get home, I’ll put you on the insurance.”

  “Don’t! I would be too scared to drive it! I’m sure there’s buses and I’ve got perfectly good legs.”

  Rohan smirked across at Emma, winking like a dodgy second hand car salesman. “You sure have, dorogaya.”

  Emma slapped his thigh playfully. “Dirty old Russian sailor!” She turned in her seat, curling her legs underneath her. Her eyes were wide and frightened and she leaned forward as she spoke. “Ro, on the subject of risk management, how close to your house does your mother live? I cannot afford to run into her. Our last parting was...not good.”

  “It’s been years, Em. I’m sure she’ll have got over it.”

  “No, Rohan! You have to promise me this. It’s important. If she turns up, we’re gone!”

  “Oh.” Rohan frowned and looked confused. “I’ll have to think about how to manage it then. She normally rings me before she walks over to the house. She’s been unwell recently with her arthritis and much worse ever since...well, she’s been ill. She doesn’t tend to just turn up because she needs to sit down before she walks home. Don’t worry. I’ll sort it out.” Rohan reached across with his left hand and caressed Emma’s writhing fingers with his. “Just promise me one thing, Em?”

  “What?” Stubbornness shrouded her face and Rohan chuckled.

  “Don’t just run off without telling me, please?”

  “What like going to the shops or down to the park.”

  “You know exactly what I mean!” Rohan’s tone was sharp and Emma sighed.

  “Fine! If I can find you, I’ll tell you.”

  “No Emma! Find me and tell me! And if you can’t find me, you don’t get to leave.”

  “That’s not fair!” Emma argued. She lifted one of her hands out from under Rohan’s and smoothed the knuckles of his left index finger softly. His hand was dotted with white lined scars, one across the back of his hand looked rugged and pink. On an impulse she kissed it, hearing the tiny gasp which escaped through Rohan’s pursed lips.

  “Emma!” his tone was sharp. “After what I just told you, are you seriously going to defy me and make me find you?”

  “No.” She pouted like a sulky teenager. “Fine then! I’ll tell you before I go missing. Unless it’s because the wicked stepmother’s appeared. Then I won’t have time. I’ll be grabbing my son and running like hell!”

  Rohan sighed and blew out an exasperated breath. “Do you ever give a straight answer?”

  Emma laughed sadly. “I did once.” She fixed sultry brown eyes on his
face and Rohan knitted his brow and looked stern. “And it ended so badly for me, I don’t want a repeat of it, thanks.” She shifted so she faced forward, watching the windscreen wipers slapping from side to side.

  “Of all the things in my life I’d change, it wouldn’t be that.” Rohan drove past a town sign that said ‘Corby’, his face serious and his blue eyes dulled. “I’m glad I married you, Em, whatever you might think. I’d do it again as well.”

  Emma felt his eyes wander to her face, flushing with the awkwardness of the moment. “What about you? Would you change that part of your life? Marrying me?”

  “Fifth amendment,” Emma said, salvaging her coy answer with a cheeky smile. Her dark eyes glinted with veiled threat and her hair hung in drapes around her tired face.

  “You can’t plead the fifth!” Rohan snorted. “This is Britain, not America!”

  “It works for me.” She grinned at him and Rohan gave in, sensing she wouldn’t answer anyway.

  “Not far now,” he sighed. “Probably about twenty minutes in this weather. Then you’ll officially be a resident of Market Harborough, home of the king’s army during the Civil War and proud owner of a school house in the centre of town on stilts.”

  “Oh, goody,” Emma remarked with sarcasm and Rohan shook his head.

  “I’ve missed some parts of your humour more than others,” he sighed.

  Emma shrugged and looked out of the window at the bright green grass and the bare trees. “Hello Market Harborough,” she whispered. “Please be kind with me?”