Cat O'Nine Tales and Other Stories - Jeffrey Archer [9]
“My bet,” said Sue, “is that those officials back at headquarters knew only too well they were going to change our status long before they pocketed our money, but it suited them not to tell us.”
“You may well be right,” said Chris, “but you can be sure of one thing—they won’t have put anything in writing at the time, so we would never be able to prove it.”
“And neither did we.”
“What are you getting at, love?”
“How much have they stolen from us?” demanded Sue.
“Well, if by that you mean our original investment—”
“Our life savings, every penny we’ve earned over the past thirty years, not to mention our pension.”
Chris paused and raised his head, while he made some calculations. “Not including any profit we might have hoped for, once we’d seen our capital returned—”
“Yes, only what they’ve stolen from us,” Sue repeated.
“A little over two hundred and fifty thousand, if you don’t include interest,” said Chris.
“And we have no hope of seeing a penny of that original investment back, even if we were to work for the rest of our lives?”
“That’s about the sum of it, love.”
“Then it’s my intention to retire on January the first.”
“And what are you expecting to live off for the rest of your life?” asked Chris.
“Our original investment.”
“And how do you intend to go about that?”
“By taking advantage of our spotless reputation.”
The End
Chris and Sue rose early the following morning: after all, they had a lot of work to do during the next three months if they hoped to accumulate enough capital to retire by 1 January. Sue warned Chris that meticulous preparation would be needed if her plan was to succeed. He didn’t disagree. They both knew that they couldn’t risk pressing the button until the second Friday in November, when they would have a six-week window of opportunity—Chris’s expression—before “those people back in London” worked out what they were really up to. But that didn’t mean there wasn’t a lot of preliminary work to be done in the meantime. To start with, they needed to plan their getaway, even before they set about retrieving any stolen money. Neither considered what they were about to embark on as theft.
Sue unfolded a map of Europe and spread it across the post office counter. They discussed the different alternatives for several days and finally settled on Portugal, which they both considered would be ideal for early retirement. On their many visits to the Algarve they had always returned to Albufeira, the town where they had spent their shortened honeymoon, and revisited on their tenth, twentieth, and many more wedding anniversaries. They had even promised themselves that was where they would retire if they won the lottery.
The next day Sue purchased a tape of Portuguese for Beginners which they played before breakfast every morning, and then spent an hour in the evening, testing out their new skills. They were pleased to discover that over the years they had both picked up more of the language than they realized. Although not fluent, they were certainly not beginners. The two of them quickly moved on to the advanced tapes.
“We won’t be able to use our own passports,” Chris pointed out to his wife while shaving one morning. “We’ll have to consider a change of identity, otherwise the authorities would be on to us in no time.”
“I’ve already thought about that,” said Sue, “and we should take advantage of working in our own post office.”
Chris stopped shaving, and turned to listen to his wife.
“Don’t forget, we already supply all the necessary forms for customers who want to obtain passports.”
Chris didn’t interrupt as Sue went over how she planned to make sure that they could safely leave the country under assumed names.
Chris chuckled. “Perhaps I’ll grow a beard,” he said, putting