Part 18 (1/2)

'Kate doesn't know,' said Ted, deadpan.

'Doesn't know?' Lloyd was momentarily stumped. 'How's that working? I guess there was a big pay-off, right? And you're living off that, right? Are you waiting to get something new before you tell her, to save her the worry?'

'There was no pay-off.' The same blunt, resigned tone.

Lloyd didn't get it. 'But if you are made redundant in the City there's always a pay-off. I'm always reading about blokes who get a cool million, and then walk straight into another job.' Lloyd jealously hated this type of bloke, but at that moment he desperately wanted his best friend to be one of them.

'I wasn't made redundant. I was sacked,' said Ted simply. He sounded dulled, damaged.

'Sacked?' Lloyd was astonished and at a total loss for words. He wasn't exactly au fait with what merchant bankers did on a day-to-day basis, but he'd always had the impression that, whatever they did, Ted did it well. He was extremely bright, diligent and likeable. Why would anyone think to sack him? Ted answered the unasked question.

'Insider dealing.'

'What?' Lloyd jumped to his feet. He simply could not take it in. He did not believe it. Could not, would not believe it of Ted. Not even if it was Ted telling him so. 'But you didn't, did you?' Lloyd a.s.sumed his question was rhetorical. Ted was the very epitome of English gentlemanliness. He was fair, loyal and honest. He was not a cheat. Not an insider dealer. There had to be a mistake. 'It's clearly a case of wrongful dismissal, isn't it?'

'No. Yes. A bit,' said Ted, not clarifying the situation much. 'Well, technically no, it is not a case of wrongful dismissal. I didn't mean to, but I broke the rules.'

'How? Why?'

Ted sighed. After five months of horrible secrecy, he was amazed at how simply the words were pouring out now. 'I was in Suffolk visiting my parents one weekend. Do you remember Miss Hollingson? Their lady ”that does”. She'd been with them for ever. She's next to hopeless as a cleaner now in fact always has been but she's part of the furniture. She'd finally decided that it was her time to retire, what with my parents spending most of their time abroad. She didn't like knocking about the old pile alone. My parents would never have asked her to leave, unless it were in a box. I think they were surprised and more than a little bit sad when she said that she wanted to move to her brother's, to be near his children and grandchildren.'

'You've lost me,' said Lloyd.

'The odd thing was I could have given her cash, a lot of cash, and I'd have happily done so. She taught me how to tie my shoelaces and recite the alphabet. You know?'.

Lloyd didn't know. Ted was describing a different world. A world with live-in housekeepers was one which he could only imagine, but he nodded to encourage Ted.

'She wouldn't take my cash. Too proud. We were chatting about her family, and I pa.s.sed comment on how excited she must be about going to live near them, and she said something a little odd, something that suggested that wasn't the case. She wasn't excited and nor were they. Worse still, she knew they weren't. They couldn't afford her, was her view. Although, realistically, they probably just didn't want her. A great auntie turning up on your doorstep with her duster and profligate advice on childcare, well, it's not ideal, is it? She wanted to take a nest egg with her. A sweetener, if you like. Can you believe it, after all those years of working for my parents for a very fair wage and yet she didn't have a pension? Hardly any savings to speak of? I was astounded. Nearly everything she'd ever earned she'd pa.s.sed on. She'd lived comfortably and had no idea that it would end. It didn't even have to. My parents think of her as family. They didn't want her to leave.'

A flash of frustration and regret pa.s.sed across Ted's face. He was trying to sound reasonable, but in truth this terrible difficulty he found himself centre of was all so unnecessary, and if there was one thing Ted loathed it was unnecessary hards.h.i.+p. Hards.h.i.+p was difficult to bear. Unnecessary hards.h.i.+p was insulting.

'Yes?' Lloyd gently prompted.

'So I gave her a tip. I knew of this smallish IT company that was going to float. You know, when I did it, I didn't think it was going to mean much. It was like pa.s.sing on a good horse bet. I thought she'd make a couple of grand. Just enough for her to hold her head up high when she arrived at her family's door. I could have written her a cheque.' Ted shook his head. 'She made over 200,000 in a week. I thought she was going to buy fifty-odd shares. She hardly had any money to invest. But she pa.s.sed on the tip to her b.l.o.o.d.y brother and his greedy family. Between them they made a tidy sum. Even then it wouldn't have mattered, except that she rang her local newspaper and told them what a lovely boy I was, to help her out in this way. Of course, she had no understanding of the consequences of her actions, but she mentioned my name and my company's name. One of the national papers picked up the story and ran a column. Just a s.p.a.ce filler, really. Didn't name me, but they did mention my company again, and the name Miss Hollingson. They made more of it than there was. Tried to paint me as a modern-day Robin Hood. Sounds heroic, except Robin Hood is best known for robbing the rich and my job is... was... to make the rich richer. My old bosses are very hot on following their own PR. They employ people to track exactly what is written about them across the globe, so they soon spotted the story. It wasn't difficult to trace Miss Hollingson back to me. They were looking for people to let go. They needed to cut their workforce by 22 per cent. I handed them an excuse and allowed them to avoid the cool million pay-off. Which, you so rightly point out, is often necessary. My desk was cleared within twenty minutes, and I was escorted off the premises by an armed guard.'

'Armed guard?'

'Stupidly over the top they like the theatre,' Ted sighed.

Lloyd could only imagine the humiliation. He battled to be positive. He couldn't believe this could happen. Such bad luck. Such poor judgement. Such a mistake. These things didn't happen to people like Lloyd and his friends.

Except, of course, when Lloyd had slipped into Greta's bed and thought that he was 'showing Sophie'. Such poor judgement. Such a mistake. Lloyd felt sweat on his upper lip. Did this mean no one was immune?

'But surely you can appeal? There must be ways to clear your name. If you tell them about Miss Hutchinson.'

'Miss Hollingson,' Ted corrected, gently. 'No. I did pa.s.s on secret information. Why? I can't remember. I think I was showing off. Can you imagine? How pathetic. A man my age and size showing off to the elderly housekeeper who thinks I walk on water regardless, and then, bang, I have no job and no references, so no chance of getting another job.'

'And you've kept this all from Kate?'

'It hasn't been easy, but at first I thought I'd get another job. If the market weren't so dead I'm sure I could have talked away the indiscretion, and the thirteen years of good service would go some way towards making me employable, but the markets are flat. Even those who can wash their Y-fronts in public can't find work.'

'So what have you done all day, every day? How have you managed to convince Kate that you are at work? What have you done for money?'

'I had some family money. I cashed in my trust fund, and we had some savings. But it's all gone now. I've discovered that we live dramatically beyond our means. I've become the cliche. I am the man who picks up my laptop and coat, ostensibly setting off for work, but who goes to the park instead.'

'Every day?'

'Well, at first I made calls, tried to pick up some old contacts, but no one wants to know you as you slide down the pole. I feed ducks; I sometimes visit museums if it's wet.'

Lloyd felt sick. He could only imagine his friend's despair and loneliness, the disgrace and dishonour. He had no concept of the fear.

'You have to tell her.'

'I do.'

'How bad is it?'

'Couldn't be worse. We'll lose the house and our cars. Our shares are worth a fraction of what I bought them for. The children will have to come out of their schools...' Ted couldn't bring himself to continue.

'But you can sell the house in Bordeaux.'

'I already have. The money from that paid the mortgage on our Holland Park pile for the past few months.'

'But you've just bought your mother-in-law a place in the Cotswolds.' Lloyd didn't understand.

'I didn't know how to get out of the promise without admitting to my situation. So I took another loan out to put down the deposit. I can't pay the mortgage on it or the loan repayments. I'll have to hand back the keys. I've lost thousands on solicitor's fees, pus.h.i.+ng through a purchase.'

's.h.i.+t.'

'I couldn't have put it better myself.'

'The housekeeper, Miss Hollingson, she could give you some of that money she made.'

Ted looked at Lloyd with genuine sadness. He didn't need to say anything. He would not ask Miss Hollingson for money; he had too much pride for that. Besides, she might not want to give it to him. She might have already given it to her family. If he asked and she turned him down, well, Ted would never recover from that cruelty. Such simple solutions and happy endings were confined to the pages of books.

'Why haven't you told Kate?' asked Lloyd, with bewilderment.

'She'll leave me,' said Ted calmly. 'Lloyd, Ms Monopoly will not live a life as ordinary as the one I am now equipped to provide.'

Lloyd didn't know what else to say. He didn't even have the spirit to fling out a few consoling plat.i.tudes. He thought it was pointless to suggest that everything would be all right or that Ted was mistaken and Kate would 'stand by her man'. Like Ted, he doubted that would be the case.

Ted continued, 'I don't want to be divorced. I don't want to lose her, or the kids. I don't want to be '

'Me.'

'No offence.'