‘I knew this would happen,’ she said. ‘I could see it, even when you were a little boy. I always said you were headed for great things. You must accept Roger’s offer, Kit. It’s your destiny.’
*
Spade liked going to the new place for his midday dinner. The chairs were comfortable, there were newspapers to read, and it was clean and quiet. In daytime he preferred it to the noisy conviviality of the Bell – a sign, perhaps, that he was now in his forties.
The clientele was normally all male, but there was no rule, and Cissy Bagshaw had been a leading clothier and was considered an honorary man. She came to sit opposite Spade while he was drinkinghis coffee and reading theMorning Chronicle. She had once wanted to marry Spade, and he had turned her down, but he liked her, and they had worked together to resolve the strike of 1799. He said to her: ‘What do you think of the new French Civil Code?’
‘What is it?’
‘Napoleon Bonaparte has issued a new improved legal code for all of France, and abolished all the old customary dues and services given free to landowners.’
‘But what does the new code say?’
‘That all laws must be written and published – no secret rules. Mere customs have no legal force, regardless of how ancient they are, unless they are made part of the code and published – unlike our English “common law”, which can be vague. No special exemptions or privileges for anyone, no matter who they are – the law considers all men to be equal.’
‘Just the men.’
‘I’m afraid so. Bonaparte is not keen on women’s rights.’
‘I’m hardly surprised.’
‘We should have the same thing here. An agreed code that everyone can read. Simple, but brilliant. Bonaparte is the best thing that ever happened to France.’
‘Keep your voice down! There are people here who would want you flogged for saying that.’
‘Sorry.’
‘You know, Spade, you really should be an alderman. People are already talking about it. You have a big enterprise now, one of the most important in town, and you’re well informed. You’d be an asset on the borough council.’
This notion seemed to be in the air, but Spade pretended to be surprised. ‘You’re very kind.’
‘I’ve retired from business, and I don’t want to serve as an alderman much longer. I’d like to put your name forward as my replacement.I know you’re on the side of the hands, but you’re always sensible, and I think you would be accepted as a fair-minded person. What do you say?’
Aldermen were elected, in theory, but in practice usually only one person was nominated, so there was no need for a ballot. In that way the council was a self-perpetuating oligarchy, which Spade disapproved of; but if he wanted to change things, he needed to belong. ‘I’d be very pleased to serve,’ he said.
She got up. ‘I’ll chat to the other aldermen, see if I can drum up support.’
‘Thank you,’ he said. ‘Good luck.’
He returned to his newspaper, but he mulled over what she had said. Most aldermen were conservative, but not all: there were some liberals and Methodists. He would strengthen the reform group. It was an exciting prospect.
His thoughts were disturbed again, this time by Roger Riddick, home from his travels. Roger said: ‘I hope I’m not disturbing your lunch.’
‘Not at all. I’ve finished. It’s good to see you.’
‘Great to be back.’
‘You look like a man with something on his mind.’
Roger laughed. ‘You’re right. I’d like to show you something. Will you indulge me?’
‘All right.’
Spade paid his bill. They left the coffee house together and walked down Main Street, then turned into a side street, where Roger stopped in front of a big house. Spade said: ‘Isn’t this your brother Will’s place?’
‘It is,’ said Roger, and he opened the front door with a key.
The hall was quiet and dusty. Spade thought the building felt empty. Roger opened a door to a small room that might have been a study or a breakfast room. There was no furniture.
