"Thanks, Dad," Richie replied wearily. "But the grades haven't come in yet."
"The school already called and said you passed with flying colors," Gerald said. "Congratulations—you're the first Grosvenor to finish primary school at eight years old. Keep it up!"
"Yeah," Richie nodded, still sounding tired.
From the basement below came the muffled sound of a jackhammer. Although the noise was barely audible, Richie grimaced as a dull headache throbbed behind his temples.
"Dad, will the builders be doing repairs much longer?"
"No, son," Gerald shook his head. "They found several ancient underground passages, but they never located the cavity where the explosion occurred. Still, the specialists concluded that our house is completely safe. They'll just finish the repairs and leave soon. We only need to wait a couple more days. Richie, if you want, we can stay at another estate?"
"We have another estate?"
Gerald chuckled, ruffled his son's hair, and said, "Son, we have many. We still own two more large estates in the UK. We also have villas in Spain, Australia, and France. We used to have more estates in Britain, but I gave three of them to my daughters."
"And what will I give my children when they come along?" the boy asked.
"Richie, don't worry about that. I've taken everything into account. When I manage to buy inexpensive land in prestigious locations, I'll build three modern estates for your children. But you, son, must try to make me happy with at least three grandchildren."
"I'll try…" Richie replied in a tone as if the process by which children come into the world were the hardest job imaginable.
This immediately sent Gerald into a fit of laughter, which he made no attempt to hide. The man laughed heartily.
"Dad, what about your promise?"
"You mean the office job?" Gerald asked. "You haven't changed your mind?"
"No!" Richard shook his head. "I want to get a good understanding of the family finances."
"That's commendable enthusiasm, son," Gerald said with a warm smile. "Of course, I'll keep my promise, but… hmm… you've finished junior school, and that deserves a reward. Working as a courier doesn't really feel like a prize. Tell me, Richie—what would you like as a gift?"
"Dad, can I ask for anything I want?"
"Yes, but within reason," Gerald smiled slyly and added, "I can't get you the moon from the sky."
"Pff!" Richard snorted, a smile tugging at his lips. "Who needs the moon? Better give me money."
"Money?" Gerald was surprised. "How much do you need, and what for?"
"Dad, just… don't laugh…"
Richard hesitated, like a girl before her wedding night. He simply couldn't imagine how to ask someone for such a fabulous sum of money.
"I promise I'll try not to laugh," Gerald said.
"Okay, then I'll tell you," Richie said. "Dad, you see, I want to learn how to manage capital. I've learned a lot from my economics tutor and want to test my knowledge in practice. To start with, I plan to invest in companies I consider the most promising."
"Oh, what a serious son I have!" Gerald said proudly. "Well, such matters can't be decided on a whim. Let's sit down and discuss everything in more detail."
Richie nodded silently and followed his father. The man and the boy settled into comfortable armchairs by the fireplace. As if by magic, a radio telephone appeared in the duke's hand. He called the servants and ordered tea.
A moment later, the table between father and son was filled with a pair of white porcelain teacups on saucers, a vase of candies, waffles, and cookies, and a pot-bellied teapot, just in case the gentlemen wanted refills.
Gerald took a sip of the fragrant tea, returned the cup to its saucer, and said, "Richie, what companies would you like to invest in?"
"Dad, I've been carefully studying the newspapers you subscribe to," the boy began cautiously. "And… there aren't any companies I'd like to invest in yet. In fact, I don't even know the names of most companies. I'll need expert advice. But one thing I can say for sure is that electronics are booming right now. Many new companies are emerging that manufacture electronic equipment—chips, microcircuits, computers, telephones, software, and so on. Their shares are steadily rising in price, and according to my forecasts, the securities of such companies will show the strongest growth."
"Let's assume that's true. And you, Richie, want to get into investing?"
"Yes, Dad."
"By yourself?" Gerald smiled slyly.
"No, of course not," Richard replied tiredly. He took a sip of tea to moisten his throat and continued. "An eight-year-old boy can't trade on the stock market on his own. I'll need help—a broker, a financial advisor to gather information about new companies, and a financial analyst to evaluate the prospects of potential investments."
"So, Richie, you're planning to make long-term investments?" Gerald asked.
"Yes, Dad. Long-term investments—often venture ones.
Venture investments involve financing new, growing, or struggling companies and firms (startups). Because of this, they are associated with a high — or relatively high — degree of risk.
That is, from the perspective of the elder Grosvenor—who followed a centuries-old strategy rooted firmly in real estate—his son's plan to invest in risky securities in pursuit of high profits was nothing more than a reckless waste of capital.
"In that case, I can…"
Richard held his breath, eagerly awaiting his father's response.
"I can," Gerald continued, "lend you ten million pounds."