The Line of Beauty - Alan Hollinghurst [199]
Catherine said, "What's Gerald voting about?"
"Oh, darling, I don't know . . . it's obviously something pretty major."
"Can't we ring him?"
"Well, he's not answering the phone in the office. And if he's in the Chamber, or somewhere else about the Palace," said Rachel impressively, "then we couldn't reach him anyway."
"He'll be back straight after the vote," said Nick. He knew that Gerald had Penny's new mobile phone; Rachel must be trying to spare him a wild, irrelevant pep talk from his daughter.
"What is a takeover?" said Catherine.
"Well, it's when one company buys up another."
"They acquire a majority of the shares," said Nick. "Then they have control."
"So are they saying Gerald didn't have these shares?"
Rachel said, as if judiciously filtering the facts for her child, "I think sometimes perhaps people fiddle with the price of the shares."
"Make them more valuable?"
"Exactly."
"Or less, of course," said Nick.
"Mm . . . " said Rachel.
"And how would they do that?"
"Well, I suppose they sort of. . . um . . ."
"Mm . . . " said Nick, after a bit.
They smiled doubtfully at their own unworldliness.
"It's not the same as asset-stripping, anyway," said Catherine.
"No . . . " said Rachel, with hesitant firmness.
"Because that's what Sir Maurice Tipper does. Toby told me. Maurice Tipper, Asset Stripper. That's when they get hold of something, it's like an old house, they strip out all the marble fireplaces before they demolish it."
"And leave everyone on the street," said Nick.
"Exactly!" said Catherine.
"That, of course, is what Badger's supposed to have done all over Africa," said Rachel, with a guilty grimace. "I don't know if it's true."
"Oh, Badger . . ." said Catherine, indulgent and dismissive at once. "What's become of poor old Badger, lately, I wonder."
"He's often away," said Rachel, as if to excuse her vagueness about him.
"I'm going to get in touch with him."
"Well, you could."
"I'm going to catch up with quite a number of people who've dropped out of my life. It's so pathetic to lose touch," Catherine said, with a lively but disgusted look at her last summer, when everything about her had been pathetic.
"I'm sure he's not expecting a call . . . " said Rachel.
"I saw Russell today, for instance."
"Oh really?" said Rachel thinly.
"Do you remember?"
"Oh, I do."
"Me too," said Nick.
"He was asking about everybody."
"I should still be a bit careful with Russell," said Nick, with a supportive glance at Rachel.
"But that was all before . . . !" said Catherine, in happy exasperation.
Later, she said, "If Gerald resigns, you'll be able to come to Barbados with me, that would be perfect, wouldn't it, until things blow over."
"That's very kind," said Rachel. "Though I can't help feeling there's more than one ' if in that sentence."
"Oh, Mum, this house has got an enormous swimming pool, as well as being right on the beach. You just take your pick!"
"No, I'm sure it's delightful."
"It could be just what he needs. A complete change of direction."
"You have the oddest idea of just what people need," said Rachel. "I've noticed it before."
"Well, let's face it, he certainly doesn't need the pathetic little empees salary."
' 'What you perhaps forget is that. . . your father wants to serve his country.''
"OK, when you get back, plunge into charity work! Probably much more useful than being Monster for Social Welfare and cutting everyone's grants. He could found something. The Gerald Fedden Trust. People often have a complete change of heart when something like this happens. You know, they go into the East End."
"Well, let's just wait and see, shall we," said Rachel, folding her napkin and pushing back her chair.
Nick and Catherine went up to the drawing room. "Will you put on some music, darling," said Catherine.
"I'm not sure your mother really . . ."
"Oh, just something nice. I don't mean God-dammery. All right, I'll choose." She went to the record cupboard,