Page 200 - James Caan - The Real Deal

The Real Deal

pledged, and I spent the day walking round the office picking up
any phone that rang. After lunch, I took a call from a woman who
said she wanted to donate £11,734. I remember the figure because
it was such a precise amount and I was a bit worried that it was
a hoax.
‘I’ve heard what you’re doing and I think it’s fantastic.’ She
sounded like she was in her eighties. ‘My son was treated at Barts,
as was my aunt, and I’ve got some money and I would like to
donate it.’
‘Do you mind me asking why it’s such a specific amount?’
‘It’s what’s in my savings account, darling.’
I couldn’t let a pensioner give away all her money, even if it was
for Barts.
‘You can’t give it all. Give a grand, but don’t give it all.’
‘I want to.’
‘Well, that’s extremely generous of you. Would you mind
writing out a cheque today?’
‘Not at all.’
‘And would we be able to collect it from you today?’
‘Well, I’m going out to meet a friend for lunch right now.’
‘Where are you going for lunch?’
‘We’re meeting at Harrods.’
‘If I send a courier to Harrods in fifteen minutes’ time, will you
give him a cheque?’
‘Of course, darling.’
We were featured in the later editions of the Evening Standard
and as the day went on the total crept up, but I was still concerned
we wouldn’t meet the target. Privately I had said I would top up
the donations if necessary, but it was important to me that
Alexander Mann rose to the challenge: I didn’t want us to fall
short. Staff even went out on to the street and started shaking
buckets, and a couple of our clients made donations in excess of
£20,000, while several members of the public made donations of

190