by Duncan James
***
Marian had been up early, although she wasn't sure why. Probably because she hadn't slept well, and she was sure she knew why that was. She didn't like being without Robin.
It was a lovely morning, and the pale sun was streaming through the bedroom window of the Royal Plaza, so she got up, had a leisurely shower, and watched the news on CNN. She tidied the room a bit before she went down to breakfast, which was a buffet affair offering everything you could wish for. Well, nearly everything. Robin had complained last week that there were no kippers, so he had helped himself to smoked haddock instead. Usually, bacon and egg and everything that went with it was more than enough for him, but that day, it had to be kippers, and there weren't any. At Oxford, she had managed to avoid his demands for kippers for breakfast, on the grounds that they smelt the place out however you cooked them, but at Oxford they hardly ever had time for anything other than a bit of toast and a cup of tea anyway. She wondered what he was having for breakfast this morning, at his Heathrow hotel.
Robin had thought it a bit of an odd question when he rang, to be asked what he'd had for breakfast, but otherwise Marian seemed to be in good spirits, and he promised to ring her again later.
Although Robin's phone called cheered her up, Marian wasn't really looking forward to her morning very much if she was honest. She wasn't at all sure she was cut out for meeting rather severe-looking elderly Swiss bank managers on her own. But it had been her idea to save time by operating separately for a couple of days, so she had no real choice. She knew what she had to achieve, and had gone over it in her mind many times since Robin had left. It was simple enough; hand over the farmers list, and give a few instructions as to the future running of the account. No problem.
She had a slight worry that, as her meeting with Monsieur Gilbert was at eleven thirty, he might invite her to join him for lunch afterwards. She thought she probably wouldn't. She had a busy schedule, she would say, with many other matters to attend to before Mr. Hood returned from his quick business trip to London. Terribly kind and all that, but no thank you.
With the morning to herself, she decided to walk to the station, where she knew she could get an English newspaper. It was a steep climb, but there were good views of the lake between the buildings on the way. On her return, she rang room service for a pot of coffee, and settled with her newspaper on the balcony in the sun until it was time to get ready for her visit to the bank.
At the appointed time, Monsieur Gilbert greeted her warmly, kissed her hand, ushered her into his office, and referred to her as Lady FitzWalter. She had a job not to giggle, but decided not to complicate matters by trying to explain.?? She would have a word with Robin later, although his ploy of casually mentioning her parents had obviously done the trick, and impressed the elderly manager.
She accepted his offer of coffee.
"Mr. Hood regrets that he is unable to meet you himself this morning," she started, "but he has had to return to London, so asked me to represent him."
"I quite understand," replied M. Gilbert.
When his secretary brought in the pot of steaming coffee, the manager asked, "Would it be sensible for Marie-Louise to stay to take a few notes of our meeting?"
"By all means," replied Marian. "It would be helpful if you could confirm our conversation in writing later, in any case, so that we have a record on paper."
"Of course. So how can I help you this morning, madam?"
"First of all, I must give you this, for which I should like a signed receipt, please." Marian handed over a sealed envelope, containing the names, addresses and banking details of the deposed farmers.
"This contains the personal details of some fifteen hundred deposed farmers, provided by the organisation we mentioned on our first visit. They do not have all the four thousand farmers registered with them, so, with only three exceptions, these people will be the only ones we shall be able to compensate."
Monsieur Gilbert slit open the envelope, and briefly looked at the contents.
"File this safely afterwards, Marie Louise," he instructed, passing it over to his secretary. "And prepare a letter of acknowledgement for my signature as soon as possible. It would be helpful for Lady FitzWalter to have that today."
"Thank you," said Marian. "Mr. Hood and I would be grateful if you could now start preparing to begin payments into the accounts for all these people, when we advise you that all the available funds have been passed to you. At that stage, no doubt, you will wish to consider an appropriate investment portfolio to provide the annuities we mentioned."
"I have already been giving that some thought," replied the manager, "although a final decision cannot be taken until we know the total amount on deposit. But you can be sure that we shall aim for the maximum return on your account."
"With the minimum risk," insisted Marian.
"Naturally," replied Gilbert. "Once the annuity is set up, your clients will be guaranteed a fixed income each month, or annually if they prefer, to which we shall hopefully be able to add a small sum each year to account for interest and inflation."
"That sounds very satisfactory," said Marian.
"You mentioned, madam, three exceptions to the list you have provided me," the manager reminded her.
Marian handed him another envelope.
"These are the details," she said. "In respect of the three individuals mentioned here, we wish you to open separate, unrelated, accounts for each of them. The accounts should not be linked to any form of annuity, but should be interest-bearing. Once I have details of these accounts, I shall arrange for separate deposits to be placed into them. The individuals will manage their own accounts directly with you, probably through the Internet, and neither Mr. Hood nor I shall have any further part to play in their management or day-to-day running. Although the accounts will obviously be held in Swiss francs, it will be necessary for you to arrange draw-down facilities in other currencies, probably South African Rand, through either the Nedbank or the First National Bank in South Africa, or through Barclays or the Standard Chartered Bank."
"All that can be arranged, of course," replied the manager, "although I fear I shall need more information about these three gentlemen before I can open accounts in their names."
"They should be numbered accounts, rather than named," responded Marian. "But I anticipated that you would need the maximum possible detail about these people, so perhaps this will help."
She handed over a third envelope, which contained copies of birth certificates, passports, utility bills, driving licences and ID cards in respect of Bwonqa Mbele and both Will Bartlett and his father.
Monsieur Gilbert thumbed through the contents, which had been counter-signed as authentic copies by Captain Jesus Conteh of the Zimbabwean Police, based in Bulawayo.
"You seem to have thought of everything," commented M. Gilbert. "The authentication by Captain Conteh is particularly useful to me, in view of the strict Swiss laws about money laundering."
"We had hoped so," said Marian.
"I foresee no difficulty in meeting your wishes in relation to these three gentlemen," promised Monsieur Gilbert, "although once again I fear I shall need to seek the approval of my board before finally giving you confirmation."
"I anticipated that," replied Marian.
"If you are still at the Royal Plaza, I shall contact you there by phone when I have established these three accounts. I hope also to be able to deliver to you there a letter confirming everything we have discussed this morning, although I hope you will tell me immediately if I have misunderstood any part of your instructions."
"I am glad you are able to work so speedily," said Marian, "as I shall probably be leaving Montreux for London in the next couple of days."
"I shall do my best to finalise matters before you leave," promised M. Gilbert. "I would suggest that once we have all these accounts and annuities in operation, you may like a monthly statement from us?"
"That would be useful," confirmed Marian
, "although by that stage we may well have signed over the day-to-day management of the accounts to Justice for Farmers, as you suggested."
"I believe that would be sensible," Gilbert nodded.
He looked at the gold watch that he removed from his waistcoat pocket.?
"If there is no further business for us to discuss, madam, I wonder if you would care to join me for lunch? There is an excellent restaurant nearby, and it would be a great pleasure to have your company," said Gilbert, thinking that it might also give him the chance to discover more about this mysterious, but very lucrative account that had come his way.
Marian looked at her new watch, recently bought by Robin on their trip to Geneva.
"That is very kind of you, Monsieur, and a very tempting offer, but I fear I really must get away. I have a busy schedule, and need to get into Geneva quite soon," she said on the spur of the moment.
She hadn't really thought what she would do this afternoon, but going to Geneva sounded a good idea and a good excuse. She would go shopping.
She went back to the hotel to change, and rang Oxford to see if Robin had arrived yet. He hadn't, but Valya said she would make sure he rang her as soon as he got there. She walked back up the hill to the station, and soon caught a train into Geneva.