"Which is?" asked Catriona.
"Better than most, as far as I can see," said Edgar. "Eighteen million in gold for the entire Keys Shipping line; and a guarantee that it will be kept intact, and that all existing employment agreements will be honoured for three years."
"But that means we'll lose the shipping line entirely," said Catriona.
Edgar chewed, and nodded. "It will pass under the control of International Mercantile Marine lock, stock, and barrel. Or rather, it will pass under the control of a British board of directors who are directly answerable to IMM, since no British ship can be sold to a foreigner."
Catriona said, "Eighteen million in gold—how far will that stretch?"
"It will pay off our debts, and the interest on our debts, and it will probably leave us with slightly less than a million pounds. Enough to invest in something afresh, if you have a mind to."
"But the end of the Keys fleet as a Keys family business?"
"Unless Mr. Welterman decides to appoint you or your mother as chairman," said Edgar. The tone of his voice was quite flat, but Catriona was alert enough to recognise the sarcasm in what he was saying. All that was left of the Keys family after her father's death was her mother, dithery and self-indulgent; Isabella and Tony, neither of whom had the very first due about business; and herself, a twenty-one-year-old flapper with no experience and a naughty reputation.
"You mentioned several alternatives," said Catriona, as coldly as she could. "What were the others?"
Lettice, freshly red-eyed, came in to collect up the plates. She did it very noisily and managed to drop a lot of knives and forks, and then pick them up again, and then drop them again in the doorway. "There's only cheese," she said, miserably.
Catriona said, "Don't worry, Lettice. We'll help ourselves. Aunt Isabelle, would you mind awfully getting the water biscuits from the sideboard?"
Isabelle, bustling a little, fetched the crackers. Percy Fearson poured the port. They spooned ripe blue-veined Stilton on to their plates and ate it with olives and fresh celery.
Edgar Deacon said, "We could go into voluntary liquidation. That's always a possibility."
"Not one that I'd consider," said Percy Fearson.
"Well, it may be forced on us," replied Edgar. He brushed crumbs from the side of his mouth with a prissy gesture of his napkin. "It may also be one way of surviving. We could buy back the ships we wanted from the receiver, and start up again under a different flag."
"I won't hear of it," said Percy Fearson. "It took Stanley years to build up the reputation of Keys Shipping as honest, and upright, and that kind of financial jiggery-pokery just won't do."
"I was asked for alternatives," said Edgar.
"Honorable alternatives, yes," Percy Fearson retorted.
"Well, there's only one other," said Edgar. "And that is to sell the Arcadia separately."
"Would anyone be interested?" asked Isabelle.
"Stanley was visited several times by representatives of American TransAtlantic asking if he might consider selling or lending the Arcadia. But they were never offering enough money. Three million was about their best for an outright sale; and in any case, Stanley was determined not to sell, at any price. The Arcadia was Stanley's dream. He thought she would transform the entire shipping line overnight. It's true, of course, she has. She's almost broken us."
"In any case, selling the Arcadia separately wouldn't do much to solve our problems," said Percy Fearson. "We'd be left with the rest of the fleet and scarcely enough profit to pay mooring fees. And we'd have lost our most glamorous asset, present company excepted."
Catriona gave Percy a fleeting smile. She liked him when he pretended to be flirtatious. "Who runs American TransAtlantic?" she asked. "Isn't it Mark Beeney?"
"That's right. Thirty-one years old, almost implausibly handsome, and a dollar millionaire twenty times over. Well, on paper, anyway."
"I think I read about him in the Evening Standard a couple of days ago," said Catriona. "They said he was the most eligible man in the world. And he's in London, too."
"He'll be coming on the Arcadia's maiden voyage," said Percy.
"Really? I know that Douglas Fairbanks and Mary Pickford are going to be on her."
Edgar Deacon lifted his hand, and ticked off his fingers one by one. "Douglas Fairbanks, Mary Pickford, Princess Xenia of Russia, Jack Dempsey, Dame Clara Butt'—he raised his other hand and carried on counting—"Madge Bellamy, Leonore Ulrich, Charles Schwab of Bethlehem Steel, and even Senora Zelmira Paz de Gainza, with her ten maids, four motorcars, and a chambermaid."
Isabelle remarked, "It sounds like the Ark."
"Well, we do have some animals, too," said Edgar. "A 2,000-pound chow dog called Choonam Brilliantine, whom we have to feed with fresh raw eggs for his lunch every day; and Pyramid, the horse which won last year's Derby. He's going to be shipped in a special padded stable, and he's going to be taking his own blacksmith with him."
Catriona held her glass towards Percy Fearson for a little more port. Percy Fearson hesitated at first, but Edgar Deacon nodded at him to fill her glass up. "After what Mr. Thurrock told me about your young man's cocktails I'm sure a little 1911 port won't go to your head," he smiled. His smile was as thin as celluloid.
Catriona said, "This still doesn't solve the problem of how we're going to save Keys Shipping."
"We have some time left to consider the matter, of course," said Edgar. "But by the time the Arcadia docks in New York, we will have had to have made up our minds. The sheer cost of refuelling her and victualling her up for the return journey will be beyond us, unless we can be sure of a sale, or some further credit. And I would very much dislike to have her impounded in a foreign port."
"Why send her to New York at all, if we can't afford it?" asked Isabelle.
"We can't afford not to send her either," Edgar explained. "We have scores of cargo contracts to fulfil, contracts which have already been paid for; we've bought food, and drink, and fuel. How are we going to settle with all of our creditors if we don't sail, and have to refund our passenger's ticket money? Not to sail would sink us faster than sailing will. And besides, if we fail to take the Arcadia out, if we fail to show her as a fast and exciting and fashionable ship, her value on the shipping market will be seriously—disastrously—undermined."
Catriona said, "You really believe that we'll have to sell Keys Shipping?"
Edgar set down his butter knife. "I wish I could say no, but I cannot."
"And you think that George Welterman is the man to sell it to?"
"He will, after all, keep the existing company intact."
"What did father think of him?"
"Your father disliked him; but then George Welterman is not a particularly easy man to like. Nonetheless, he is probably the most powerful single man in American shipping today, apart from his masters at IMM."
How can we think of selling Keys to a man whom father disliked?"
Edgar said, "I regret, Miss Keys, that we often have to deal with people we dislike, as a matter of expediency."
"There must be another way of raising money somehow," said Catriona. "To think of selling everything that Father worked for all these years, and right at the moment of his greatest success..."
"You have to think of more than your immediate family," Edgar told her. "The families of scores of Liverpool men depend on us, too. The most important thing is to pay off what we owe and keep the company in one piece. That may not be everything that your wanted; but it will leave him with a very fitting memorial."