Cat O'Nine Tales and Other Stories - Jeffrey Archer [23]
“Fine.” Dick opened his wife’s drawer and grabbed the first piece of paper available. He wrote down, Sam, office, 8, Thur board mtg, 10. “Well done, Jill,” he added. “Better book me back into the Grand Palace Hotel, and email the minister to warn him what time I’ll be arriving.”
“I already have,” Jill replied, “and I’ve also booked you on a flight to St. Petersburg on the Sunday afternoon.”
“Well done. See you around ten tomorrow.” Dick put the phone down, and strolled through to his study, with a large smile on his face. Everything was going to plan.
When he reached his desk, Dick transferred the details of his appointments to his diary. He was just about to drop the piece of paper into a wastepaper basket when he decided just to check and see if it contained anything important. He unfolded a letter, which he began to read. His smile turned to a frown, long before he’d reached the final paragraph. He started to read the letter, marked private and personal, a second time.
Dear Mrs. Barnsley,
This is to confirm your appointment at our office on Friday, 30 April, when we will continue our discussions on the matter you raised with me last Tuesday. Remembering the full implications of your decision, I have asked my senior partner to join us on this occasion.
We both look forward to seeing you on the 30th.
Yours sincerely,
Dick immediately picked up the phone on his desk, and dialed Sam Cohen’s number, hoping he hadn’t already left for the day. When Sam pick up his private line, all Dick said was, “Have you come across a lawyer called Andrew Symonds?”
“Only by reputation,” said Sam, “but then I don’t specialize in divorce.”
“Divorce?” said Dick, as he heard a car coming up the gravel driveway. He glanced out of the window to see a Volkswagen swing round the circle and come to a halt outside the front door. Dick watched as his wife climbed out of her car. “I’ll see you at eight tomorrow, Sam, and the Russian contract won’t be the only thing on the agenda.”
Dick’s driver dropped him outside Sam Cohen’s office in Lincoln’s Inn Field a few minutes before eight the following morning. The senior partner rose to greet his client as he entered the room. He gestured to a comfortable chair on the other side of the desk.
Dick had opened his briefcase even before he’d sat down. He took out the letter and passed it across to Sam. The lawyer read it slowly, before placing it on the desk in front of him.
“I’ve thought about the problem overnight,” said Sam, “and I’ve also had a word with Anna Rentoul, our divorce partner. She’s confirmed that Symonds only handles matrimonial disputes, and with that in mind, I’m sorry to say that I’ll have to ask you some fairly personal questions.”
Dick nodded without comment.
“Have you ever discussed divorce with Maureen?”
“No,” said Dick firmly. “We’ve had rows from time to time, but then what couples who’ve been together for over twenty years haven’t?”
“No more than that?”
“She once threatened to leave me, but I thought that was all in the past.” Dick paused. “I’m only surprised that she hasn’t raised the subject with me, before consulting a lawyer.”
“That’s all too common,” said Sam. “Over half the husbands who are served with a divorce petition claim they never saw it coming.”
“I certainly fall into that category,” admitted Dick. “So what do I do next?”
“Not a lot you can do before she serves the writ, and I can’t see that there’s anything to be gained by raising the subject yourself. After all, nothing may come of it. However, that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t prepare ourselves. Now, what grounds could she have for divorce?”
“None that I can think of.”
“Are you having an affair?”
“No. Well, yes, a fling with my secretary—but it’s not going anywhere. She thinks it’s serious, but I plan to replace her once the pipeline contract is signed.”
“So the deal is still on course?” said Sam.
“Yes, that’s originally why I needed to see you so urgently,” replied Dick. “I have to be back in St. Petersburg for May the sixteenth, when both sides will