If you buy a parcel of shares on the phone through a private client stockbroker and the order is confirmed, to what extent can you rely on their subsequent delivery? You would think, on a cursory reading of the law of contract, that the answer would be simple: you have a contract the broker has to honour. But the experience of one reader with Barclays Stockbrokers, one of the UK’s biggest firms, suggests otherwise.

He bought an admittedly arcane type of shares last month. Barclays subsequently admitted that it could not get them at that price, blaming “human error”. The purchaser complains to me: “I want the deal honoured. Barclays have refused. What happened to the adage ‘My word is my bond?’ ” Barclays refuses to discuss the case because it says the client will not let it, even though he sent his complaint to me. The only answer it will give about whether there is a binding contract, after days of wrangling, is “it depends”. The Stock Exchange says that if he had a contract note, they would take action. But confirmation was given only verbally. Is the law really in such a muddle?

Green holds his ground but Sorrell is slipping

And, by an odd coincidence, Sir Martin Sorrell and Sir Philip Green both feature in the list of the 100 most influential men of the year in GQ’s December issue. Green holds his place at No 7, while Sorrell slips from No 17 to No 22. Making good running, music mogul Lucian Grange, who runs Universal and is described by Bob Geldof as “a ruthless [typical Geldof noun] but he’s got good ears”. Another big faller, from No 4 to No 10, Mervyn King.

An Avenger of lost pensions: Honor Blackman

The latest celebrity to take part in the protests over the Equitable Life scandal is former Bond girl and The Avengers star Honor Blackman. She will be outside the House of Commons tomorrow morning, along with the inevitable Vince Cable and the Equitable Life Action Group.

They will all stand next to a stack of 15 coffins, representing the 15 pensioners expected to die that day without receiving compensation — no one ever accused the campaign of lacking a striking way of putting its message across. Blackman, who is in her 80s, was part of the old Rank Organisation stable of talent at Pinewood and was brought in as the second partner to Patrick Macnee in The Avengers — the first was Ian Hendry. Not a lot of people know that. She then played Pussy Galore in Goldfinger. She says that her own Equitable pension has halved in value.

“We did the right thing to provide for our retirement and look what happened.”

This Thursday evening sees an auction at Christie’s in London that allows guests to buy an hour-long private audience with any one of a dozen celebrated figures in business, the arts and so on. The whole thing is being organised by Krug, the champagne house, for reasons not entirely clear. It is, however, for charity and it is hoped as much as £250,000 will be raised. Bidders have been able to make their offers online for the past couple of weeks and the results so far are a carefully guarded secret. But deduction, bullying and sheer guesswork on my part puts the Arsenal manager Arsene Wenger well ahead in the bidding, with Sir Philip Green and Sir Martin Sorrell tying for second place. Not mentioned in the running, the notoriously rude historian David Starkey, for some reason.

What substance is so toxic and dangerous to any who come into contact with it in the workplace that, under The Chemicals (Hazard Information and Packaging) Regulations 1993, it must be accompanied by a five-page product safety data sheet? This warns that “prolonged skin contact may defat and dry skin leading to possible irritation and dermatitis”, that eye contact must be treated instantly with cold water, skin contact ditto, mouth contact ditto, if swallowed take medical advice, and gloves and safety glasses should be worn. Spent nuclear waste? Distilled bleach? Er, no, and I am indebted to the Adam Smith Institute for this — Blu-Tack.

Some surprise at yesterday’s meeting of the Libraries, Archives and Guildhall Art Gallery Committee at a list of gifts given to recent Lord Mayors. Many of these are stored somewhere in the 83km of shelving at the London Metropolitan Archives in Clerkenwell. Those mentioned yesterday included a spade, a wheelbarrow, a baseball hat embroidered with the word “gaffer”, a horseshoe, an empty beer bottle and an empty jar of honey labelled “honey pot theory”. No idea why.

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