In the Bleak Midwinter Page 8

  ***

  Baker travelled to Botallack to view the mine by himself. He was rather dubious whether the potential was as great as Sadler had conveyed to him. He was well aware that the banker took great risks in life, aiming very high, which was all very exciting until it went wrong. Total failure was not easy to overcome; he had experienced it before. It was Baker’s misfortune to be one of life’s optimists... always seeing the positive side of a venture. This had led him into all kinds of trouble. Setting large scale success was ambition at its highest and often doomed to failure... similarly to a writer who sets out to produce a best seller, or the aspirations of a prospector gold miner who believes that ‘there’s gold in them there hills!’

  When he first saw it, Baker was inspired by the sight of the mine. Most of it bowed to impressiveness. There he stood, in the stiff breeze blowing from east to west across the ruggedness of the terrain, wondering what the future might hold for him there. Botallack was beautiful and immensely strong. It seemed to open its heart to him, offering lodes of enormous value... suggesting wealth of tremendous proportions. The fact that the mine had lain dormant for so many years allowed him to consider that an inordinate amount of metal and minerals were laying idly in those veins simply waiting for someone to release them. It all depended on how one view a proposition and he was reminded of the two shoe salesmen who were sent to Africa. The first one cabled back: ‘Coming home immediately. No one wears shoes here!’ The second salesman cabled back: ‘Send forty million pairs of shoes immediately. The potential’s enormous!’

  He walked slowly towards the engine house and produced a notepad to write some notes. His knowledge of mining was almost non-existent. It was so easy to misread potential through lack of knowledge and experience. For him, it was essential to curb his enthusiasm and progress slowly. As he continued his investigation, he sensed that someone was watching him. Looking up, he spied the figure of an old man standing some distance away observing every move that he made. The stranger walked across the rugged ground towards him, keen to engage him in conversation.

  ‘What are ‘e doin’ ‘ere?’ asked the old codger.

  ‘Looking at the mine. What are you doing here?’

  ‘I’m eighty-two,’ continued the old man. ‘Come every day.’

  ‘Is it a good mine to work?’ enquired Baker hopeful for any useful information.

  ‘She be the best!’ The eyes of the old man seemed to fill with emotion. ‘It be rich but no one knew ‘ow to work ‘e proper. There be a whole sett. Goes through the ground like a rabbit warren. They always got caught by the price of tin. High one year, low the next. Trouble is they got the right machinery at the wrong time. In 1907, Holman Brothers built a fast ‘orizontal winding engine with twenty-two by forty-eight inch stroke cylinders but it were never used proper. Sold ‘e to East Pool & Agar about eight years later. The right machinery at the wrong time!’

  ‘You know all about the mine then,’ advanced Baker eager to keep the man talking.

  ‘Worked ‘e as man an’ boy before ‘e closed in 1914. But it were copper not tine that saved ‘e in the 1840s. She were one of the richest mines in the country, Then there were the accident in 1863. The chain snapped and sent the skip down the incline shaft, Killed eight men include me gran’father, an’ a boy. They closed ‘e down in 1895 and reopened ‘e in 1907. Sank the Allen’s Shaft they did., Took ‘e too far inland to be of any use. Sank ‘e four ‘undred yards from the Crowns.’

  ‘What of the mine now?’

  ‘In fair condition in some parts. Some of the shafts be flooded but a good electric pump would soon change all that. The people ‘oo own the mine... well, you couldn’t boil an egg by ‘em.’

  ‘Couldn’t boil an egg! What do you mean by that’

  ‘Not reliable. Say one thing an’ do another. They cleared the main adit and reimbursed Botallack for a ‘undred an’ thirty fathoms from outfall at sea level an’ enlarged ‘e for a tram wagon. In Wheal Cock, they put a twenty foot collar round Skip Shaft. That were after Engine Shaft were re-collared in forty feet of concrete. Over there is Allen Shaft. ‘E can see the mill an’ the roof of the power station. He pointed with a shaking hard in a south-westerly direction. ‘There be the crusher house, headgear, winding engine, the air compressor an’ the boiler ‘ouse. Use to be three ‘undred men working’ this mine... ,over fifty in Allen’s Shaft alone.’

  Baker recognised the value of the man’s past knowledge and he decided to establish the relationship on a sounder footing.

  ‘I’d like you to help me professionally,’ he suggested. ‘I’m willing to pay you for your time. Perhaps you can give me a guided tour and then we can talk about it.’

  The octogenarian stared at him suspiciously. ‘Pay me for my time,’ he repeated. ‘Why does ‘e want to know so much?’

  ‘I’ve a friend who’s interested in buying the mine. We might be able to employ you as an adviser. We’ll have to wait and see. Let me drive you to town. We can discuss it over a cup of coffee.’

  The Cornishman stared at him thoughtfully for a few moments and then wandered off unsteadily towards Baker’s car. He never believed that he would be involved with the running of Botallack again. It was more than he could ever have hoped for.

  ‘What’s your name?’ asked Baker innocuously.

  ‘Trevenlyan. ‘Orace Trevelyan. An’ I’m eighty-two years old.’

  ‘Yes... you told me that.’

  The old man opened the door of the car and climbed inside. He would think about the offer from the stranger and make up his mind shortly. At eighty-two years of age there was never any rush. It was the young who were always in a hurry!

  ***

  Phyllis Roberts was a very efficient secretary. She pulled a few strings in her own inimitable way and discovered that a meeting of bankers was to take place at the Lancaster’s headquarters in London. Sadler decided that it was essential for him to attend, considering that the timing of the meeting to be providential. At the Reception Desk of the Lancaster House building, he showed his bank security pass and was ushered into a room with four bankers and four directors of the company.

  The Corporate Finance Director of the Bank of Commerce recognised Sadler as he sat beside him at the conference table.

  ‘What are you doing here?’ he whispered to Sadler with an element of irritation in his voice.

  ‘I’m not here to act for the bank,’ came the reply. ‘I need to speak privately with Clement Lancaster.’

  The senior bank official stared at him coldly. ‘You have no right ot be at his meeting!’ The tone reproached him severely.

  ‘Before you start the meeting, write him a note to say that I want to talk to him privately. Please!’

  ‘I don’t know what game you’re playing, Sadler but you’re jeopardising the bank’s position.’ He paused to think for a moment. ‘Why don’t you ask him yourself?’

  ‘He won’t refuse you... not with the authority of the bank you behind you. He would be too embarrassed to refuse you whereas I wouldn’t stand a chance.’

  ‘I warn you, Sadler. They’ll hear of this at Head Office!’

  The Corporate Finance Director reluctantly wrote a brief note which he passed to the Secretary who gave it to the Chairman, Clement read it and looked at Sadler across the highly polished table before standing up and beckoning to him to follow him to another room. E

  ‘Of the highest importance, the note said,’ commented Lancaster calmly. ‘Came all the way from Plymouth to see you. What’s all this about?

  ‘Della Lancaster!’ blurted the banker. ‘You’re cousin. She’s extremely unhappy and wants to return to the family. I’m here as her representative to ask if she can return to the fold. She’s been punished enough.’

  Clement stared at him suspiciously. ‘Did she appoint you as her representative? Did she tell you s
he wanted to rejoin the family?’

  ‘You know that she would never ask you on her own account to return to the fold. The family pride’s too strong. But she’s the daughter of Harcourt and Amy O’Rourke. That must count for something.’

  ‘Forgive me for being blunt,’ cut in Clement harshly, ‘but is your association with her one of... intimacy?’

  Sadler burst into laughter. ‘Is that all you can think of, Clement? If that’s so, then she really is in trouble. What happened to all those standard questions that people ask when they haven’t seen a relative for along time such as ‘Is she well? How is her health? Is she managing well financially? Is she with anyone or living alone? My God! Where’s your charity, Lancaster or are you the original ice man ?’

  ‘I object to your intrusion into a private family matter. It has nothing to do with you.’

  ‘Everyone’s entitled to one mistake in life,’ challenged the banker.’

  ‘What’s your motive coming here to tell me this, Mr. Sadler?’

  The banker stared at him coldly before replying and then decided to put his cards on the table. ‘All right, let’s cut to the chase. I want to raise money to buy a mine and I’m offering you a twenty-five per cent share.’

  Lancaster nodded his head slowly. ‘A fortune hunter,’ he commented as though it was a commendation. ‘I like your audacity. So the woman’s a red-herring. You simply want me to invest in your mine. Aren’t you moving out of your class and your profession?’

  ‘I’m not certain whether we’re in a Mexican stand off or not, Clement.’

  ‘What do you mean by that?’

  ‘Well, you may have cut Della out of your family but I don’t think you could do so with the company. She was the daughter of the joint-owner of the company. She must have been granted shares in Harcourt’s Will. They must be worth a fortune yet she’s living in poverty. What’s happened to them. If she and I were to marry... ‘ He tailed off to observe the effect on the other man but the millionaire appeared unmoved. Nonetheless, he was certain that he had struck a nerve.

  ‘My instinct tells me that I ought to throw you out,’ he blasted at the top of his voice. ‘However my fair sense of play advises me to talk moe on this matter when time is available. Ring my secretary to make an appointment.’

  Without further delay, he turned on his heel and stalked out of the room leaving Sadler to find his own way out. However the issue was now out in the open and the banker had every hope of success!

  ***

  Sadler returned to his office on the following morning and he replayed the conversation through his mind. By sheer accident he had penetrated a Chinese Wall and struck at the root of a domestic problem which could have severe ramification. The family had denied her a vote in every meeting of the company which was illegal in terms of corporate law. Della had been disowned by her family when her association with Homer White, the carpenter, had been discovered. There had obviously been a quarrel and she had left the family home. Morris said that she was a wealthy heiress. If so, who was controlling the shareholding and voting in the Lancaster empire? Inevitably he would need to talk to Della to get to the heart of the matter. In the meantime it was unlikely that Clement would be in any hurry to resolve the situation. As far as the banker was concerned, his intention was to force Lancaster to pay him the total cost of the mine for twenty-five per cent. It was a highly audacious plan but if one didn’t ask, one never received.

  The door opened and Phyllis Roberts stepped into the room wearing a very low-cut dress. She approached his desk and leaned towards him as he looked up.

  ‘I notice you asked for a list of dormant accounts,’ she remarked smoothly, although the words somehow imparted a hidden threat.

  ‘What’s so unusual about that?’ he countered. ‘It’s the manager’s duty to go through them occasionally.

  ‘It’s usual to do so after every twelve months,’ she went on. ‘I just wondered whether there was a particular reason why you suddenly changed the system.’

  He looked directly into her eyes without weakening. She was beginning to become a serious menace to his plans. ‘There are cases where the bank is concerned that some accounts remain dormant for too long. Customers have died and beneficiaries have no knowledge that the bank hols an account. Head Office wishes to secure their legal position.’

  A brief smile touched the edges of her lips. They both knew that he was lying. ‘I didn’t realise that Head Office had contacted you on the matter’ she advanced, ostensibly with innocence. ‘By the way, how dd your meeting go with Clement Lancaster. Do you want me to keep a diary note of the discussion?’

  ‘I don’t think so,’ he retorted coolly. ‘It was a personal matter.’

  ‘I understand the Corporate Finance Director is raising hell because you turned up at the meeting.’

  Without doubt, he now knew that she was tracking his every move. Well she didn’t have a clue why he wanted to meet Clement Lancaster and he didn’t care a damn about the senior bank official. It was a private matter. ‘Too bad!’ he riposted boldly. ‘But it had nothing to do with the bank!’

  ‘How about Tuesday evening at my place!’ The request was really in the form of a demand.

  He sat quite still for a few moments and then agreed. ‘Very well. Tuesday evening at your place.’

  ‘Other men buy gifts for their loved ones. Don’t forget to buy me one.’

  ‘What do you have in mind?’

  ‘Oh, anything. A necklace perhaps. Not a cheap one. I hate cheap jewellery.’

  ‘I’ll see what I can do.’

  ‘Within reason, of course,’ she added.. ‘I wouldn’t want you to have to extract money from dormant accounts to pay for it. That would be stealing, wouldn’t it.’ She turned and left the room gracefully knowing that her words had a devastating effect.

  Sadler was like a fish on a hook. The woman was going to blackmail him until it hurt. These were the early days when the soft-soap would be applied. Later on, the battle was likely to get much rougher. He hoped that he might be able to resolve the situation before it reached that point. Much depended on Della and the Lancaster family. If they invested in the mine he would be in the clear. If not, Phyllis Roberts would be forever on his tail. He had to find a way of dealing with her. It would come to mind... eventually!

  Chapter Seven

  Elsie went to work each day leaving Ivan to take her son to school. Each Friday, after she had been paid, they went shopping As soon as they returned home, she apportioned most of the remaining money into different tines and jars in the kitchen, each one bearing a label for a specific purpose. The amount left over was handed to Ivan for his personal use. At first he was completely uncertain with regard to his position. She told him that she wanted nothing from him except for his company. As far as she was concerned, she was quite ready to support him financially. He accepted the agreement in principle but soon his conscience began to prick him. As time went on, it gnawed at him constantly. Ivan was a willing worker. By doing nothing and living off the efforts of the woman, he began to lose respect for himself. One night, as they lay in bed together, he twisted and turned incessantly as the problem spun in his mind.

  Elsie put her arms around him with concern. ‘What’s the matter?’ she asked. In the darkness, she felt anguish surge through her body believing that he was wrestling with the idea of leaving her.

  ‘I love you, Ivan! I need you!’ she bleated passionately.

  ‘I can’t go on like this!’ he uttered with frustration. ‘I’m sick of sitting here all day long doing nothing. It’s not in my blood!’

  ‘You won’t leave me, will you?’ She sounded desperate. I don’t think I could face life in this old place on my own any more.’

  He placed his arm around her neck tenderly. ‘Of course not!’ he said softly, nibbling the lobe of her ear. He shi
fted his hand and moved it sensuously up and down her spine. She felt the tension drift swiftly from her body and the anxiety began to ease as he fondled her. He began to express his feelings for her in gentle whispers and touched her gently over some of the erotic parts of her body until she felt ecstasy surge through her. He continued to make love to her by kissing her continually and playing his hands all over her limbs and sensitive parts and it wasn’t long before she reached a climax, huffing and puffing with strange sounds emanating from her lips and spasmodic shudders which raged through her body. He always succeeded in exciting her to the limit which made her feel like a real woman. However the Russian was beginning to tire of the regular physical demands made on him. He found himself thinking of Anna and, in the darkness, pretended that the breasts he fondled were not those of the English woman but the firm flesh of young Russian stock. He recalled Anna’s profound innocence on the night he had slept with her, long before he had met Elsie, and he had written to her without so much as the price of a postage stamp in his pocket. Nonetheless, he had placed it in a post-box hoping that it would be delivered safely to dispel the awful story that Peter had related about his conduct in Plymouth. Following that, he made up his mind to get some money for his train fare back to the group and then to marry her as soon as possible. At that moment, Elsie gave a long drawn out moan of satisfaction and her body shuddered violently for a few seconds more. He experienced feelings of distaste and disgust. She was Elsie and not Anna and that made all the difference. He placed his hands on the bed on each side of her body preparing to move away.

  ‘No... don’t move!’ she begged. ‘Please don’t move!’ He ignored the plea and tore his body away savagely, deliberately hurting her in the process. ‘Why did you do that?’ she asked with an element of sadness in her voice.

  Suddenly his attitude changed again. Anna was gone from his mind. He realised that he was sexually aroused and turned on Elsie to impose himself forcefully and cruelly, like a drunken man seducing a harlot in a brothel. She hated it when he went wild and acted like an animal and she tried to push him away but her strength was no match for him and he thrust himself on top of her time and time again.