Chapter 55

We had to wait about ten minutes for Mr Derbyshire to arrive, although it felt like much longer. He was an older man, tall and genteel, and wearing spectacles.

“Hello John,” he said, as he shook hands with Dad. “Cedric seemed to think there was an issue.”

“Good morning, Austin. No problem. My son, Jon, needs to use your secure storage.”

“Of course,” replied Mr Derbyshire.

“Just one question before we start the processing,” said Dad. “What is the current insurance limit for the contents of a safe deposit box?”

“Five million pounds,” replied Mr Darbyshire, with more than a hint of pride in his voice.

Dad turned to me. “What do you think, Jon? It’s up to you.”

My first thought was to panic. Was this some sort of test? I remembered what Dad had said in the car, about being very careful and taking time to think before speaking. I knew I wasn’t to reveal the value of the coin. “It’s more appropriate than the insurance limit at Mum’s office,” I replied. “That’s only half a million pounds.”

From Dad’s expression, I’d said the right thing.

Mr Darbyshire gave me a curious stare, reappraising me. I nodded, indicating to proceed.

Mr Darbyshire entered my details into the computer, checked my passport, then added Dad’s details to register the account as being for a family member. Then he turned to me, “The first available safe deposit box is unit three, shelf two, box twelve,” he said. “It’s very important you remember the three numbers because you’d have to go through a lot of bureaucracy if you forgot. Normally we don’t give clients a choice but if there’s a particular set of numbers you’d like because they’re easy for you to remember, I’ll check whether the corresponding safe deposit box is available. Just don’t make it anything obvious like your birthday.”

Dad nodded so I deliberated for a few moments. “Do you have unit five, shelf eight, box twenty one?” I asked.

“We have a unit five,” said Mr Derbyshire, “but no safe deposit boxes have been allocated from it yet. Let me check.” He entered the numbers into his computer. “Yes, that safe deposit box exists and is available. Would you like it?”

I looked to Dad for approval. He nodded again, although I could tell he wanted to know why I had chosen those numbers.

“Yes please,” I confirmed.

Mr Derbyshire tapped away on his computer. “That’s done. If you wait here, I’ll fetch your box for you.”

“Why did you choose those numbers?” asked Dad, as soon as we were alone.

I thought about repeating that I’d rather not say, but realised that might come across as snarky. “It’s based on Janey’s birth date,” I half-explained.

A few minutes later, Mr Derbyshire came back bearing a safe deposit box. It had a combination lock and required two keys. He turned the combination tumblers to show six zeros then inserted two keys and turned them simultaneously. There was a quiet click as the box unlocked, then Mr Derbyshire opened the lid to show the pristine insides.

“I’ll leave you alone while you store your valuables in the box. When you’ve finished, set the combination to whatever you wish, then close and lock the box. That registers your chosen combination as the one needed to open the box next time. Once the box is locked, change the combination to something else so your chosen combination doesn’t show. Do you understand or would you like me to repeat the instructions?”

Dad looked at me, indicating that because it was my box, I needed to be confident that I understood.

“Yes,” I said. It wasn’t that difficult for a nerd like me.

“Good. Losing your box numbers, your combination number or your key creates a bureaucratic nightmare for us. If we have to cut our way into your box, you will be charged the replacement cost,” admonished Mr Darbyshire.