"We're not Marshall Field's, you know."
"Not yet," said the colonel, with a smile. "Remember it's you, Charlie, who has taught us to think like this."
"I knew somehow it would all end up being my fault."
"So I propose the resolution that we form a company," said Becky. "Those in favor?"
Becky and the colonel each placed a hand in the air, and a few seconds later Charlie reluctantly raised his and added, "Now what?"
"My second proposal," said Becky, "is that Colonel Sir Danvers Hamilton should be our first chairman."
This time Charlie's hand shot straight up.
"Thank you," said the colonel. "And my first action as chairman is to appoint Mr. Trumper as managing director and Mrs. Trumper as company secretary. And with your permission I shall approach Mr. Crowther, and I think also Mr. Hadlow, with a view to asking them to join the board."
"Agreed," said Becky, who was scribbling furiously in the minutes book as she tried to keep up.
"Any other business?" asked the colonel.
"May I suggest, Mr. Chairman," said Becky—the colonel couldn't resist a smile—"that we fix a date for our first monthly meeting of the full board."
"Any time suits me," said Charlie. "Because one thing's for certain, we won't be able to get them all round this table at any one time, unless of course you propose to hold the meetings at four-thirty in the morning. At least that way we might find out who the real workers are."
The colonel laughed. "Well, that's another way you could guarantee that all your own resolutions are passed without us ever finding out, Charlie. But I must warn you, one will no longer constitute a quorum."
"A quorum?"
"The minimum number of people needed to pass a resolution," explained Becky.
"That used to be just me," said Charlie wistfully.
"That was probably true of Mr. Marks before he met Mr. Spencer," said the colonel, "so let's settle on our next meeting being a month today."
Becky and Charlie nodded.
"Now if there is no other business I will declare the meeting closed."
"There is," said Becky, "but I don't think such information should be minuted."
"The floor's all yours," said the chairman, looking puzzled.
Becky stretched across the table and took Charlie's hand. "It comes under miscellaneous expenses," she said. "You see, I'm going to have another baby."
For once Charlie was speechless. It was the colonel who eventually asked if there were a bottle of champagne anywhere near at hand.
"I'm afraid not," said Becky. "Charlie won't let me buy anything from wine and spirits until we own the shop."
"Quite understandably," said the colonel. "Then we shall just have to walk round to my place," he added, rising from his seat and picking up his umbrella. "That way Elizabeth can join the celebration. I declare the meeting closed."
A few moments later the three of them stepped out onto Chelsea Terrace just as the postman was entering the shop. Seeing Becky he handed her a letter.
"It can only have come from Daphne with all those stamps," she told them as she ripped the envelope open and began reading its contents.
"Come on, then, what's she been up to?" asked Charlie, as they walked towards Tregunter Road.
"She's covered America and China, and as far as I can tell India's next," Becky announced. "She's also put on half a stone and met a Mr. Calvin Coolidge, whoever he is."
"The vice-president of the United States," said Charlie.
"Is that so? And they still hope to be home sometime in August, so it won't be that long before we are able to learn everything firsthand. Becky looked up to discover that only the colonel was still by her side. "Where's Charlie?" They both turned round to see him staring up at a small town house that had a "For Sale" sign attached to the wall.
They walked back towards him. "What do you think?" he asked, continuing to stare at the property.
"What do you mean, 'What do I think?'"
"I suspect, my dear, what Charlie is inquiring of you is your opinion of the house."
Becky stared up at the little house that was on three floors, its front covered in Virginia creeper.
"It's wonderful, quite wonderful."
"It's better than that," said Charlie placing his thumbs in his waistcoat pocket. "It's ours, and also ideal for someone with a wife and three children who is the managing director of an expanding business in Chelsea."
"But I don't have a second child yet, let alone a third."
"Just planning ahead," said Charlie. "Something you taught me."
"But can we afford it?"
"No, of course we can't," he said. "But I'm confident that the value of property will soon be going up in this area, once people realize they will have their own department store within walking distance. In any case, it's too late now, because I put down the deposit this morning." He placed a hand in his jacket pocket and removed a key.
"But why didn't you consult me first?" asked Becky.
"Because I knew you'd only say we couldn't afford it, as you did with the second, third, fourth, fifth and every subsequent shop."
He walked towards the front door with Becky still a yard behind him.
"But—"
"I'll leave you two to sort things out," said the colonel. "Come over to my place and have that glass of champagne just as soon as you've finished looking over your new home."
The colonel continued on down Tregunter Road, swinging his umbrella in the morning sun, pleased with himself and the world, arriving back just in time for his first whisky of the day.
He imparted all his news to Elizabeth, who had many more questions about the baby and the house than about the present state of the company accounts or her husband's appointment as chairman. Having acquitted himself as best he could, the colonel asked his manservant to place a bottle of champagne in a bucket of ice. He then retired to his study to check through the morning mail while he awaited the Trumpers' arrival.
There were three letters unopened on his desk: a bill from his tailor—which reminded him of Becky's strictures on such matters—an invitation to the Ashburton Shield to be held at Bisley, an annual event he always enjoyed, and a letter from Daphne, which he rather expected might simply repeat the news that Becky had already relayed to him.
The envelope was postmarked Delhi. The colonel slit it open in anticipation. Daphne dutifully repeated how much she was enjoying the trip, but failed to mention her weight problem. She did, however, go on to say that she had some distressing news to impart concerning Guy Trentham. She wrote that while they were staying in Poona, Percy had come across him one evening at the officers' club dressed in civilian clothes. He had lost so much weight that her husband hardly recognized him. He informed Percy that he had been forced to resign his commission and there was only one person to blame for his downfalclass="underline" a sergeant who had lied about him in the past, and was happy to associate with known criminals. Guy was claiming that he had even caught the man stealing himself. Once he was back in England Trentham intended to . . .
The front doorbell rang.
"Can you answer it, Danvers?" Elizabeth said, leaning over the banister. "I'm upstairs arranging the flowers."
The colonel was still seething with anger when he opened the front door to find Charlie and Becky waiting on the top step in anticipation. He must have looked surprised to see them because Becky had to say, "Champagne, Chairman. Or have you already forgotten my physical state?"
"Ah, yes, sorry. My thoughts were some distance away." The colonel stuffed Daphne's letter into his jacket pocket. "The champagne should be at the perfect temperature by now," he added, as he ushered his guests through to the drawing room.
"Two and a quarter Trumpers have arrived," he barked back up the stairs to his wife.