Goodfellowe MP by Michael Dobbs Read Free Book Online

But, Corsa argued, he gave the Foundation the benefit of his financial acumen and public relations expertise which were of inestimable value. Anyway, all the trustees were placemen, hand-picked ‘for their proven commitment to good causes,’ as Corsa put it, although the only cause most of them had served had been Corsa himself. Still, it ensured that board meetings ran efficiently and without acrimony.
    The penthouse, which was used by Corsa as his London home and for which travellers in the lift required a computer access code, was a stunning modernist creation in steel and glass, shod with a suitable acreage of blond wood. It offered breath-snatching views along the river to where the new headquarters of Granite Newspapers nestled in the shadow of Canary Wharf, while its internal privacy and climate were secured by an adept use of computer-controlled sailcloth shades which surrounded the atrium on three sides. As much as Corsa insisted on being regarded as part of the press establishment, in private his tastes were eclectic, nonconformist, some might say even inconsistent. But never his purpose.
    The journalist, when he was ushered onto the terracotta terrace overlooking the river, found Corsa surrounded by fig trees and seated on a planter’s chair, talking by telephone with his son’s headmaster.
    ‘Headmaster, Freddy Junior tells me you’re looking to replace your cricket pavilion. I’d like to help. The Granite Foundation is very keen on worthwhile educational projects. I’m sure they would want to look at it very closely.’
    He waved for the journalist to take a seat. Tea was already set out on the table beside them. He indicated that the journalist should pour.
    ‘One point, Headmaster. If they are going to provide the bulk of the funds, I’m sure they would like to think that their name might find its way onto the pavilion. Not quite as important as the SainsburyWing at the National Gallery, perhaps, but the principle’s the same.’
    On the river below a pleasure boat commandeered for a school outing to Greenwich sounded its klaxon and the children waved energetically. Corsa waved back.
    ‘Glad you agree. But, now you raise the subject, I’m not sure that something like the Granite Pavilion has quite the right personal touch. Bit too … solid for Sussex, wouldn’t you say? Maybe we’d better just call it the Corsa Pavilion.’ He winked at his guest, allowing him in on the game. ‘But there is one other point we need to discuss, if the subject is cricket. To be blunt, I can’t see how the school can have a Corsa Cricket Pavilion if it doesn’t have a Corsa in the cricket team.’
    A silence fell as the headmaster was allowed to ponder the point.
    ‘Does it matter if his average was only eight last year?’ Corsa continued. ‘Those runs are worth five thousand pounds apiece if you get your new pavilion. It could be up in time for the annual game with Eton. So maybe it will cost you the match for the next two years, but it’ll save the team.’ He paused, then a glint of satisfaction crossed Corsa’s well-tanned face. ‘I felt sure you would feel that way about it, Headmaster. Pleasure talking to you.’
    He replaced the phone and turned to his guest. ‘Don’t think I’m a soft touch – it’s not as painful as it sounds. Someone is sure to argue that as generous as my offer is, others should be asked to help raise some of the money. To foster team spirit. So I’ll endup offering matching sums, pound for pound. Get away with twenty grand, less than two years’ school fees.’ He declined to remind the visitor that in any event the money would not be coming from his own pocket but from the Foundation.
    ‘So, Mr Gooley, you want to become the Herald’s new City Editor.’
    The young man slurped his tea in surprise. ‘I hadn’t realized there was a vacancy.’
    ‘There isn’t. Not yet at least. But imagine for a moment that there were. Why should you replace him?’
    Gooley, put