“My clients were simply making available an offer that they believed would add value to their customers’ portfolios,” says Luke, giving me a tight smile. “They have assured me that they were simply wishing to benefit their customers. They have assured me that—”
“So you’re saying your clients are incompetent, then?” I retort. “You’re saying they had all the best intentions — but cocked it up?”
Luke’s eyes flash in anger and I feel a thrill of exhilaration.
“I fail to see—”
“Well, we could go on debating all day!” says Emma, shifting slightly on her seat. “But moving onto a slightly more—”
“Come on, Luke,” I say, cutting her off. “Come on. You can’t have it both ways.” I lean forward, ticking points off on my hand. “Either Flagstaff Life were incompetent, or they were deliberately trying to save money. Whichever it is, they’re in the wrong. The Websters were loyal customers and they should have gotten that money. In my opinion, Flagstaff Life deliberately encouraged them out of the with-profits fund to stop them receiving the windfall. I mean, it’s obvious, isn’t it?”
I look around for support and see Rory gazing blankly at me.
“It all sounds a bit technical for me,” he says with a little laugh. “Bit complicated.”
“OK, let’s put it another way,” I say quickly. “Let’s. .” I close my eyes, searching for inspiration. “Let’s. . suppose I’m in a clothes shop!” I open my eyes again. “I’m in a clothes shop, and I’ve chosen a wonderful cashmere Nicole Farhi coat. OK?”
“OK,” says Rory cautiously.
“I love Nicole Farhi!” says Emma, perking up. “Beautiful knitwear.”
“Exactly,” I say. “OK, so imagine I’m standing in the checkout queue, minding my own business, when a sales assistant comes up to me and says, ‘Why not buy this other coat instead? It’s better quality — and I’ll throw in a free bottle of perfume.’ I’ve got no reason to distrust the sales assistant, so I think, Wonderful, and I buy the other coat.”
“Right,” says Rory, nodding. “With you so far.”
“But when I get outside,” I say carefully, “I discover that this other coat isn’t Nicole Farhi and isn’t real cashmere. I go back in — and the shop won’t give me a refund.”
“You were ripped off!” exclaims Rory, as though he’s just discovered gravity.
“Exactly,” I say. “I was ripped off. And the point is, so were thousands of Flagstaff Life customers. They were persuaded out of their original choice of investment, into a fund which left them £20,000 worse off.” I pause, marshaling my thoughts. “Perhaps Flagstaff Life didn’t break the law. Perhaps they didn’t contravene any regulations. But there’s a natural justice in this world, and they didn’t just break that, they shattered it. Those customers deserved that windfall. They were loyal, long-standing customers, and they deserved it. And if you’re honest, Luke Brandon, you know they deserved it.”
I finish my speech breathlessly and look at Luke. He’s staring at me with an unreadable expression on his face — and in spite of myself, I feel my stomach clench with nerves. I swallow, and try to shift my vision away from his — but somehow I can’t move my head. It’s as though our eyes are glued together.
“Luke?” says Emma. “Do you have a response to Rebecca’s point?”
Luke doesn’t respond. He’s staring at me, and I’m staring back, feeling my heart thump like a rabbit.
“Luke?” repeats Emma slightly impatiently. “Do you have—”
“Yes,” says Luke. “Yes I do. Rebecca—” He shakes his head, almost smiling to himself, then looks up again at me. “Rebecca, you’re right.”
There’s a sudden still silence around the studio.
I open my mouth, but I can’t make a sound.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Rory and Emma glancing at each other puzzledly.
“Sorry, Luke,” says Emma. “Do you mean—”
“She’s right,” says Luke, and gives a shrug. “Rebecca’s absolutely right.” He reaches for his glass of water, leans back on his sofa, and takes a sip. “If you want my honest opinion, those customers deserved that windfall. I very much wish they had received it.”
He looks up at me, and he’s wearing that same apologetic expression he had in the corridor. This can’t be happening. Luke’s agreeing with me. How can he be agreeing with me?
“I see,” says Emma, sounding a bit affronted. “So, you’ve changed your position, then?”
There’s a pause, while Luke stares thoughtfully into his glass of water. Then he looks up and says, “My company is employed by Flagstaff Life to maintain their public profile. But that doesn’t mean that personally I agree with everything they do — or even that I know about it.” He pauses. “To tell you the truth, I had no idea any of this was going on until I read about it in Rebecca’s article in The Daily World. Which, by the way, was a fine piece of investigative journalism,” he adds, nodding to me. “Congratulations.”
I stare back helplessly, unable even to mutter “Thank you.” I’ve never felt so wrong-footed in all my life. I want to stop and bury my head in my hands and think all of this through slowly and carefully — but I can’t, I’m on live television. I’m being watched by 2.5 million people, all around the country.