dismissed from the headmaster's presence. He felt his cheeks flush involuntarily and his stomach churned. There was nothing he could say, nothing that would be productive anyway. He stood up and picked up his briefcase. Nelson leapt to his feet and extended 42 STEPHEN LEATHER his hand. Freeman felt like turning his back on the young banker but he knew that would be childish. He shook hands with the man, and Anderson did the same. On the way out of the office, Walter patted him gently on the back like a relative at a funeral, wanting to reassure him that life went on, no matter how bad things looked.
Anderson said nothing as they rode down in the elevator and the silence continued as they walked towards the car. 'What do you think?' Freeman said eventually as he opened the car door.
'About the boy-wonder banker?'
'Yeah.' Freeman slid into the car and opened the door for Anderson.
'We're caught between a rock and a hard place,' Anderson said as he climbed into the car and slammed the door shut.
'But at least they're not closing us down,' Freeman said.
'Yeah. But I don't like the idea of Nelson watching our every move.'
'You never know, he might be a help,' Freeman said. He started the Lumina and drove to the car park exit.
'He's barely out of college,' Anderson protested. 'What the hell could he know about running a business? Especially a business like ours.' He slammed his hand down on the dashboard.
'Yeah, I know what you mean,' Freeman agreed. 'But I don't see that we've got a choice. I think you should start looking for alternative sources of finance. See if any of our other banks will take over First's loans. Maybe see if we can bring in new money.' Anderson pulled a face as if he had a bad taste in his mouth. 'Yeah, yeah, I know,' Freeman said. 'But I can dream, can't I?'
Mersiha ran her fingers through the magazines on the table, looking for something, anything, worth reading. She picked up a copy of People magazine and flicked through it. She couldn't concentrate on the photographs of movie stars and television personalities and after a few minutes she threw the magazine back on the table. She looked at her watch. It was exactly five THE BIRTHDAY GIRL 43 o'clock, the time her session was due to start, and Dr Brown was usually punctual to the point of obsession. She wondered if he was having trouble with one of his patients. An unstable teenager threatening suicide, maybe. A middle-aged woman professing her undying love for the psychiatrist, offering him her heart and soul if he'd only take her there and then on the office floor. Mersiha smiled at the thought. Dr Brown was an unlikely lover, a small, chubby man with a receding hairline and small, baby-like lips.
'Are you okay, kiddo?' Katherine asked.
'Sure,' she replied, reaching for another magazine.
'What are you smiling at?'
Mersiha shrugged. 'Nothing. Just happy, I guess. Can we get ice-cream after this?'
'Sure, kiddo.' Katherine went back to reading a dog-eared copy of Vanity Fair. Mersiha studied the door to Dr Brown's office. In the three years she'd been attending weekly sessions at the psychiatrist's office, she'd never seen one of his other patients. There were two doors to his inner sanctum: one led to the waiting room where she was sitting with Katherine, the other opened on to a corridor that led to the car park. It was a simple system, but it worked: arriving and departing patients never met.
'Katherine,' Mersiha asked, 'how much longer do I have to do this?'
'Do what?'
'Come to Dr Brown's. It's a waste of time. And money. Think of the money you'd save if I stopped coming.'
Katherine looked at her as if considering the offer, then shook her head. 'When Dr Brown says there's no need for you to come any more, then you can stop.'
Mersiha flopped back in her chair and pouted. 'But I'm going to be sixteen in two weeks.'
'No buts. And don't worry about money. This isn't a matter of how much it costs, it's whether or not it's good for
Anderson said nothing as they rode down in the elevator and the silence continued as they walked towards the car. 'What do you think?' Freeman said eventually as he opened the car door.
'About the boy-wonder banker?'
'Yeah.' Freeman slid into the car and opened the door for Anderson.
'We're caught between a rock and a hard place,' Anderson said as he climbed into the car and slammed the door shut.
'But at least they're not closing us down,' Freeman said.
'Yeah. But I don't like the idea of Nelson watching our every move.'
'You never know, he might be a help,' Freeman said. He started the Lumina and drove to the car park exit.
'He's barely out of college,' Anderson protested. 'What the hell could he know about running a business? Especially a business like ours.' He slammed his hand down on the dashboard.
'Yeah, I know what you mean,' Freeman agreed. 'But I don't see that we've got a choice. I think you should start looking for alternative sources of finance. See if any of our other banks will take over First's loans. Maybe see if we can bring in new money.' Anderson pulled a face as if he had a bad taste in his mouth. 'Yeah, yeah, I know,' Freeman said. 'But I can dream, can't I?'
Mersiha ran her fingers through the magazines on the table, looking for something, anything, worth reading. She picked up a copy of People magazine and flicked through it. She couldn't concentrate on the photographs of movie stars and television personalities and after a few minutes she threw the magazine back on the table. She looked at her watch. It was exactly five THE BIRTHDAY GIRL 43 o'clock, the time her session was due to start, and Dr Brown was usually punctual to the point of obsession. She wondered if he was having trouble with one of his patients. An unstable teenager threatening suicide, maybe. A middle-aged woman professing her undying love for the psychiatrist, offering him her heart and soul if he'd only take her there and then on the office floor. Mersiha smiled at the thought. Dr Brown was an unlikely lover, a small, chubby man with a receding hairline and small, baby-like lips.
'Are you okay, kiddo?' Katherine asked.
'Sure,' she replied, reaching for another magazine.
'What are you smiling at?'
Mersiha shrugged. 'Nothing. Just happy, I guess. Can we get ice-cream after this?'
'Sure, kiddo.' Katherine went back to reading a dog-eared copy of Vanity Fair. Mersiha studied the door to Dr Brown's office. In the three years she'd been attending weekly sessions at the psychiatrist's office, she'd never seen one of his other patients. There were two doors to his inner sanctum: one led to the waiting room where she was sitting with Katherine, the other opened on to a corridor that led to the car park. It was a simple system, but it worked: arriving and departing patients never met.
'Katherine,' Mersiha asked, 'how much longer do I have to do this?'
'Do what?'
'Come to Dr Brown's. It's a waste of time. And money. Think of the money you'd save if I stopped coming.'
Katherine looked at her as if considering the offer, then shook her head. 'When Dr Brown says there's no need for you to come any more, then you can stop.'
Mersiha flopped back in her chair and pouted. 'But I'm going to be sixteen in two weeks.'
'No buts. And don't worry about money. This isn't a matter of how much it costs, it's whether or not it's good for
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