by Janet Tanner
‘I talked to my father,’ he said.
Her fingers gripped her cocoa mug more tightly, ‘And?’
‘Everything you said is true. Except that he puts a different interpretation on it, of course. That it is for the good of the business and so on.’ He could not bring himself to mention that his father had also said it was for the good of his own future.
‘The good of the business! Ha! Leo de Vere does nothing except for the good of Leo de Vere.’
‘Dad thinks he’s built up to be an ogre because of things which happened a long time ago – things that should be forgotten.’
‘There are some things it is impossible to forget.’ Her lips tightened, eyes narrowing, and something in her expression disturbed him. There was something else she knew that he did not, just as she had known about the relationship between their grandmothers, something from the past which cast this long dark shadow across the years.
‘What did he do?’ he asked. ‘ Why do Alicia and Sarah hate him so?’
‘You don’t know?’
He shook his head. Her eyes came up to meet his, clear honest eyes. ‘They believe he was responsible for the death of Gilbert Morse.’
‘Responsible for his death? But he was killed in a flying accident wasn’t he?’
‘They don’t believe it was an accident. They believe he tampered with the aeroplane in some way.’
David looked incredulous. ‘That’s a bit far-fetched, isn’t it? Why should he do something like that – assuming he could.’
‘He always wanted control of the business, even then. I don’t think they believe he set out to kill Gilbert. It was Sarah he wanted to get rid of. She was Gilbert’s protégée and getting too much power for his liking – taking over the position he believed to be rightfully his after Lawrence died and Hugh was killed. And you see it should have been Sarah in the aeroplane that day, flying the first leg of the record-making journey they were attempting to South Africa. As for the how – he was seen the night before, snooping around the sheds – just as he had been on a previous occasion when something went wrong with an aeroplane Sarah was learning to fly in. Oh, I know nowadays it sounds an impossibility but things were different then, far more primitive. A nut loosened here, a bolt removed there – I don’t know. No-one really does – the aircraft was totally destroyed. But there was very real suspicion directed at Leo. He was told to get out and never come back, and as he did everything was hushed up. But you see that is why they will never forgive him.’
David sat silent, stunned by the story.
‘It wasn’t just Alicia and Sarah who disliked Leo either,’ Kirsty went on, anxious that he should not think she was over-dramatising some unlikely plot. ‘ Gilbert couldn’t have trusted him either because when his will was read Leo was not mentioned. It was then he vowed he would one day control Morse Bailey. It seemed impossible at the time, Granny said, and certainly it has taken him a lifetime to reach the position from which he can attempt it. But now he’s done it, hasn’t he? Somehow he has wormed his way into your father’s confidence, used his wiles to make the deal sound attractive enough, and there it is, fait accompli after all these years. We can’t allow it to happen, David. We can’t allow the family firm – our family firm – to fall into the hands of a man like that.’
David set down his cocoa mug. The feeling of well-being had gone now, totally destroyed by what Kirsty had said. He could not believe his father had not known the story – he would certainly have heard it from Alicia. So how could he disregard it and dismiss the ill feeling so lightly as ‘old enmities’, trivial as some children’s quarrel? Presumably because there was enough in the deal for him to enable him to overlook Leo’s treachery. Enough for him – and for David. But David wanted no part of this. A position of authority in the company might be something he would be prepared to accept – if he had worked for it and earned it. He could never take it if it were the prize for a dishonourable ploy, his principles were much too high for that – too high for the world of business altogether, he had sometimes thought and certainly too high to betray the memory of the man who had founded their empire, his great-grandfather, Gilbert Morse.
There was only one thing for it – much as he loathed the idea he would have to work against his father and do what he could to prevent the merger going through. Guy would be furious – worse, he would consider him a fool, for by doing so he would be turning his back on a joint fortune that could make him rich and powerful beyond his wildest dreams. But so be it. There was enough of a hippy still in David to make him contemptuous of too much money, and power for its own sake did not attract him either. Integrity was, he considered, a good deal more important.
‘You agree with me, don’t you?’ Kirsty asked. She sat forward on the ottoman facing him, arms wound around her knees, small chin jutting with determination. ‘ It would be terrible if Morse Bailey fell into Leo de Vere’s hands. But from what Granny says the only person who can stop it is Alicia. And will she? From what you say she was concerned enough to come to Bristol but your father has run her affairs for so long that habit may be too strong. If he pulls the wool over her eyes, convinces her that we are taking over de Vere Motors or something of the sort, then she will very likely allow him the proxy vote just as she always has. Especially if he can convince her that what he is doing is beneficial for her side of the family.’
He nodded, surprised by her perceptiveness.
‘Yes, Dad knows how to get around Grandmother. He has had plenty of practice at it. And from what he said to me tonight he is fairly certain, I think, that he has allayed her fears. He has had too much power for too long, that is the trouble, and he is bolstered up by Leo’s own share in the company which he inherited from his mother. I dare say unbeknown to anyone they have been scratching one another’s backs for years.’ He broke off for a moment, finding the idea distasteful in the light of what he now knew.
‘So what are we going to do?’ Kirsty sounded desperate. ‘ If Leo de Vere gets control of Morse Bailey it will kill Granny, I know it will. The company has been her whole life.’
‘There is only one thing to do,’ David said. ‘Your grandmother talked to mine without success. Understandable, I suppose, considering the ill feeling between them. Now it is up to me.’
She looked at him steadily, hardly daring to hope.
‘I’ll talk to Grandmother. I’m not sure how much influence I have with her but I can only do my best – and the trouble is we haven’t long. The all-important meeting is on Wednesday. Dad is wasting no time. I’ll see Grandmother tomorrow and try to persuade her to use her votes to keep Morse Bailey independent.’ He glanced at his watch and stood up. ‘It’s late. I’d better be going.’
She nodded, curiously reluctant to see him leave. Whilst he was here nothing seemed so bad. He crossed to the door and she followed him.
‘Good luck, David.’
He smiled crookedly. ‘ I may need it. Think of me tomorrow.’
‘I will.’
When he had gone she sat for a long while deep in thought. Perhaps it would be all right. For everything her grandmother held dear, it had to be!
Chapter Forty-Six
For years Mondays had been Grace’s afternoon off and it was her custom to leave a cold supper for Sarah ready for when she returned from the office. As usual there was a good selection of cold meats, cheeses and salad, but tonight Sarah had no appetite and as she carried the tray through into her sitting-room she wondered if she would be able to manage more than a mouthful.
Dear God, this business had upset her more than anything had done for years. The thought of the business falling into Leo de Vere’s hands was a terrible one, yet she was powerless to do anything about it. The dread had settled into Sarah’s stomach like a leaden weight and the sense of utter helplessness fermented in her veins making her unable to rest. Sarah had always hated being helpless. It was totally foreign to her nature to sit back and let fate take its course. But on this occasion there
was nothing, absolutely nothing, she could do except wait and pray that perhaps others would be able to open Alicia’s eyes to the seriousness of what would happen if she remained with the status quo and allowed Guy to make her decision for her.
Yesterday she had experienced a flash of hope, a little light at the end of the tunnel. Kirsty had telephoned to say she had talked to David, who in turn was going to talk to Alicia. Sarah was not well acquainted with David but Kirsty, whose judgement she trusted implicitiy, had spoken of him in glowing terms and when she had last seen him when he had come to look around the Bristol works on joining the company Sarah had been struck forcibly by how like Gilbert he had grown – a point which had given Sarah an instant affinity with the young man. Perhaps, she thought, he could succeed where she had failed and make Alicia face up to her obligations after all these years. The thought had been something to hold onto but since then she had heard nothing and she was beginning to be doubtful of his success. Moreover, Guy had been as full of himself today as he always was – a sure sign that he felt his position to be secure.
How I dislike the man! she thought. And what a bitter moment it will be to see the triumph in his eyes when he carries the day …
The thought took away what little of her appetite remained and Sarah put the tray down on the low table beside the chair. Grace would probably scold her tomorrow when she discovered the food untouched but Grace’s scolding was the least of her worries just now.
Sarah poured herself a glass of Chablis and sipped it but even the fine wine tasted bitter in her mouth.
The telephone began to shrill, jangling on Sarah’s nerves. Who could it be – one of her sons, perhaps, who had got wind of what was going on and wanted to discuss it with her? Or Kirsty maybe, still concerned about her grandmother and wanting to check that she was all right? The thought warmed her a little. Kirsty was a darling. If she lost everything else, there was still Kirsty. She got up and crossed the room to the telephone, limping a little on her stiff knee.
‘Sarah Bailey.’
‘Sarah.’ It was Alicia’s voice – she recognised it at once and her hand tensed on the receiver. The two of them had not spoken since that day at Rules and though she knew Alicia was in Bristol she had not seen anything of her. But in spite of her need for Alicia as an ally she was unable to restrain the feelings of antagonism that autocratic voice always excited in her.
‘Alicia.’
‘Yes, it’s me. Please don’t hang up, Sarah. I should begin by apologising for having left you so abruptly at our last meeting.’
Alicia – apologising? Unheard of! But then of course for all her faults Alicia was well-bred. The least she could do was reciprocate …
‘I quite understand, Alicia. What can I do for you?’
A slight pause. Then Alicia said smoothly: ‘I understand there is to be a very important meeting on Wednesday afternoon. I am not sure if I shall be able to be there myself but I would like to take the opportunity of talking to you before it takes place. I am staying at the Grand Spa Hotel in Clifton. Could you possibly come to see me tomorrow evening?’
She doesn’t change! Sarah thought. She still issues her invitations as if they were commands. Aloud she said: ‘At your hotel, you mean?’
‘Yes. It would be easiest, I think. I have no transport.’ Alicia hesitated, then continued smoothly: ‘I should warn you it will be something of a gathering. I have also asked Guy and David to come along.’
Sarah lifted a hand to pat her cap of silver hair into place with a movement that those who knew her well would have recognised as defensive. What is she up to now? she was wondering.
‘Very well, Alicia,’ she said, then added: ‘ Perhaps you would have no objection to my bringing Kirsty along with me? If she can make it, that is. She does have college commitments to consider.’
‘Of course I have no objection,’ Alicia said and instantly Sarah felt a little foolish. She must be getting old, to feel in need of some moral support!
‘What time will you expect us, Alicia?’ she asked.
‘Oh – seven perhaps? I’ll have some sandwiches sent up, or we may indeed be finished in time to dine in the restaurant. Though I feel sure it would do Guy no harm at all to go without his dinner for once. All the business lunches he consumes have done no good at all for his waistline.’
And all the bottles of spirits he puts away, not to mention the fine wines, Sarah thought.
‘Very well, Alicia,’ she said. ‘Until tomorrow.’
‘Until tomorrow.’
It was perhaps the friendliest farewell the two women had shared in a lifetime of antagonism and it was only when she had replaced the receiver and found herself trembling slightly that Sarah thought: why is she gathering us together like a spider in her web? Just what has she decided?
And knew that, trying as it would be, she would have to wait until the next day to find out.
Alicia’s suite was perhaps the finest the Grand Spa had to offer, overlooking as it did the magnificent sweep of the Avon Gorge and the countryside beyond so that it was impossible almost to realise that it stood in the heart of a bustling city.
Sarah arrived at seven on the dot and Kirsty was with her.
‘Of course I’ll come with you, Granny,’ she had said when Sarah had telephoned her.
‘Are you sure it’s not imposing dreadfully on your time?’ Sarah had asked, feeling guilty, and Kirsty, bless her, had insisted it was not. Now, grateful for her presence, Sarah took her arm as they walked along the carpeted corridor from the lift and was grateful for the youth and strength that seemed to flow into her.
‘What can she have decided, Kirsty?’ she wondered and the girl turned to smile at her with the sparkling blue eyes that were so like her own had been before time had faded them a little.
‘We’ll soon know, Granny.’
‘Yes, we will, won’t we?’
As she raised her hand to knock Sarah heard voices coming from the other side of the door. Clearly Guy and David were here before them.
David answered the door and once again Sarah was struck forcibly by how like Gilbert he had become – the likeness was almost uncanny, taking her across the years as if she had been caught in a time warp. Except, of course, that this young Gilbert wore a casual open necked shirt and a sweater in a bright red, a colour that a man Gilbert’s generation would have considered totally unsuitable for anyone of the male gender.
‘Come in. It’s good to see you.’ His voice was easy, less formal and clipped than Gilbert’s had been but with the same underlying firmness. I like him, Sarah thought, and noticed in spite of her anxiety the flash of communication that passed between him and Kirsty. And Kirsty likes him too, she thought, pleased.
Alicia and Guy were standing together by the window with the wonderful view of the Gorge. They had obviously been deep in conversation and Guy turned to nod curtly at Sarah and Kirsty, as if annoyed by their interruption. But Alicia was the perfect hostess. She swept across to greet them, her lack of natural warmth completely hidden by her impeccable manners.
‘Sarah – Kirsty – thank you so much for coming. And at such short notice too.’ She spread her arms and for a startled moment Sarah thought she might be going to kiss them in greeting but at that Alicia drew the line.
She looked magnificent as ever, Sarah thought with grudging admiration, tall and straight as she had ever been in her simply cut dress of coral wool with a black shawl arranged elegantly around her shoulders. But she did look paler than she had done at their last meeting, her skin almost blue-tinged ivory, drawn tightly over her cheek bones, and the merest hint of dark circles beneath her eyes.
‘Isn’t there anything to drink in this place, Mother?’ Guy asked rather rudely from his place by the window. ‘I asked for brandy to be sent up but it hasn’t arrived.’
‘And I cancelled the order, Guy,’ Alicia said smoothly. ‘You drink far more than is good for you and I would like you to be stone cold sober whilst you hear what I
have to say.’
Guy tutted but did not argue. In some respects he was still slightly in awe of his autocratic mother.
‘Well, let’s get on with it,’ he said impatiently. ‘You have got us all here – and I for one am anxious to know why.’
Sarah heard the undertone in his voice and thought: Guy is worried. Perhaps this is a good sign. But she was afraid to hope too much. Even now Alicia was a total enigma.
‘Very well. Why don’t we all sit down?’ It was not so much an invitation as an order. They did as she bid, Kirsty taking her place on the small sofa at Sarah’s side, David coiling his long frame into the matching chair, Guy plumping for a straight-backed upright. Only Alicia remained standing. When he saw this David half rose, offering her his seat, but she shook her head.
‘Thank you, David, but I would prefer to stand. I find it easier to talk – and I have a good deal to say. I suppose it would be naive of me to imagine you don’t know, any of you, why I asked you here – it concerns, of course, this proposed ‘‘merger’’, I think you called it, Guy, with de Vere Motors.’
‘I realise that, Mother, but I don’t know why you are continuing to worry your head about it,’ Guy said, raising his voice slightly. ‘You have allowed me to manage your affairs for a long time now and I don’t see why this should be any different.’
‘Kindly do not interrupt me, Guy. Yes, you have managed my affairs – and very satisfactorily as far as I am aware, for many years. This is different.’
‘Different how?’
‘Different because it strikes at the very basis of the firm my father founded.’ She glanced at Sarah, a faint flicker in her violet eyes. ‘Our father,’ she amended.
‘But I still don’t see … Mother, I have given the matter a great deal of thought and it is my considered opinion …’
‘I know your opinion, Guy. Now I have asked you here so that I can acquaint you with mine. As you so rightly say you have had my proxy vote for a very long time now. I have called you all here tonight to tell you that this time I intend to come to the meeting tomorrow afternoon and vote for myself.’
