CHAPTER ELEVEN
Sarah arrived at work just minutes before the Monday morning team meeting was due to start. Hugo emerged from his office just as Sarah reached her desk, coffee in hand. He shot her a grim look.
‘Good of you to turn up at last. Bring that Lindos file into the meeting – we need to sort out the claim.’ He stalked off in the direction of the meeting room.
Sarah dumped her bag on the desk. ‘Claim? What claim’s he talking about?’ she asked Colin, who sat at the next desk.
Colin looked at her in disbelief. ‘The Lindos? The supramax that ran aground off New Zealand over the weekend?’
Sarah’s heart tightened momentarily. It was the tanker she’d been asked to get reinsurance cover for on Friday evening. Thank God it was covered, and that Gerald was good for that last thirty per cent. Still, it would have been better if she’d got it in writing. She wasn’t looking forward to telling Hugo that Gerald had yet to sign the slip. She found the file and headed for the meeting.
‘OK, first things first,’ said Hugo, as Sarah closed the door and slid into her seat. ‘The Lindos. As you’ve all no doubt heard, she seems to be a casualty. Sarah, I left the matter of the reinsurance cover with you on Friday – I assume you dealt with it?’
Sarah nodded. ‘Yes. I’ve got it covered.’ Her mouth felt dry. ‘Sort of.’
Hugo’s gaze was steely. ‘Sort of? What the fuck are you telling me? Either it’s covered or it’s not.’
‘It’s covered. Gerald Last agreed to write the last thirty per cent. But there wasn’t time to get his signature. It was Friday, it was late—’
‘Jesus Christ, Sarah. Go and get it sorted. Straight away! You know we can’t post this claim without his mark on the slip. We’ve got a vessel insured for a hundred million. We’ve only secured lines for seventy per cent, which leaves us a cool thirty three million to find. And if Gerald isn’t going to sign, and your trust fund isn’t good for it, we’re in shit. So get his signature. Now!’
Sarah picked up the file and left the room, crimson-faced. Swearing beneath her breath, she stalked back to her desk and called Gerald on his mobile.
Gerald Last was driving along Chelsea Embankment when his hands-free rang. He glanced at the display, and saw Sarah’s name come up. He reached out, pressed a button, and cut the call off. He’d heard about the Lindos over the weekend. He knew exactly why she was ringing.
Unable to reach Gerald, Sarah began to feel panicky. She tried to reassure herself that it would all be fine, that she was worrying needlessly. But things wouldn’t be fine, she knew, until she got Gerald’s signature. She flung on her coat and headed out of the office. At Lloyd’s, the usual line was forming at the box. Sarah had a quick look round for Gerald, though she knew that as a senior underwriter, he was unlikely to be there. She went up to his office, but was told by Gerald’s sour-faced PA that Gerald wasn’t in yet.
‘When do you expect him?’
‘I couldn’t say. All I know is that he’s on his way. I can’t tell you any more than that.’ Gerald’s PA wasn’t a fan of Sarah’s.
‘Look, can you tell him to ring me when he gets in? He’s got my number.’
‘I may ask him,’ replied the PA frigidly. ‘I certainly won’t tell him.’
‘Whatever, bitch,’ muttered Sarah beneath her breath as she turned to go.
She retreated to Starbucks and sat with a large latte and a copy of The Times, her mobile on the table next to her, ignoring a series of increasingly urgent messages from Hugo. She didn’t dare go back to the office until she’d got Gerald’s signature. Please, please let him ring soon. Her head had begun to ache.
Half an hour later, when no call had come, she rang Gerald’s office again.
‘I’m afraid Mr Last is still in his meeting,’ the PA was happy to tell her.
Sarah didn’t have a clue what to do next. She rang the office to check where everyone was, and got Colin.
‘How’s Hugo?’ she asked.
‘Spitting teeth and blood. He’s gone off to a management meeting. The last thing he said was for you to ring him as soon as you can.’ Sarah closed her eyes briefly. She could guess what the management meeting was about. Hugo was busy doing some damage limitation, waiting for her to assure him she’d got the signature on the last thirty per cent. ‘Where are you, in case he asks?’
‘Tell him I’ve gone to the market – no, wait – tell him I’ve fixed up a meeting with Gerald later this morning.’ Maybe that would keep him off her back for an hour or so.