by Janet Tanner
‘I think you should be warned, tai-pan, that I intend to keep in touch with Katy and see her whenever and wherever I can.’
‘Don’t be a fool, Stuart! You’ve got a good girl in Helen. She knows the Company inside out …’
‘Does it not occur to you, tai-pan, that the Company has nothing whatever to do with this? As for Helen – there was never anything serious between us and even if there had been, frankly I don’t consider it any concern of yours. Now, to return to what we were discussing – Katy’s right to consideration from Cormorant. What do you intend to do to put matters right?’
Charles’s lip curled. His breathing was harsh and uneven. ‘ What do you suggest?’
‘I suggest you go along with the deal Elise put to you – whatever it is. I feel sure it is an honourable one; she’s that kind of woman. And she would prefer to feel she was not asking for anything her own company could not earn. That would be a good beginning, at any rate.’
‘And if I refuse?’
Stuart’s eyes met his, holding them coolly, the spark of authority and decisiveness still there.
‘If you refuse, like my Great-uncle before me, I shall cut myself off from Cormorant.’
‘You wouldn’t be such a fool!’
‘Try me! I want nothing to do with a corporation that makes – and keeps – its power that way. You have brought me up to drive a hard bargain, tai-pan. That I will go along with. Business can sometimes be harsh and dirty. But I will have nothing to do with cheating within the family. I wouldn’t connive at suppressing the last wishes of your brother, even if I wasn’t involved with his grand-daughter. So it’s up to you, tai-pan. Either you brief me to put matters right, or I shall leave Cormorant. Do I make myself clear?’
‘Very clear,’ Charles sighed. The age was there in his face again, the tiredness that came from so many years spent ruling Cormorant, and the etching of bitterness that was the legacy of some of his methods.
‘You are forcing me, Stuart, to a decision I would rather not take. Allow me twenty-four hours grace. I will give you my answer tomorrow.’
Stuart straightened, pulling down his jacket over his hips.
‘Very well.’
Then without a backward glance he left the apartment.
As the executive jet approached the airfield, brilliant August sunshine made the white-painted fuselage glint like Alpine snow and turned the bright yellow Cormorant insignia painted on the tail-fin to sparkling golden fire.
On the flight deck, Stuart Brittain eased his long back against the smooth leather of the pilot’s seat and looked down over the tapestry of green Somerset countryside, the blue cut-glass of the Chew Valley Lake and the greyish water of the Bristol Channel away to the west beyond the softly undulating hills.
‘Almost there now.’ A faint smile curved his lips.
‘On track, range half a mile from touchdown …’ droned the voice of the radar controller, and for a few moments concentration on bringing the Lear jet safely in to land drove all other thoughts from his mind. Then, as the wheels touched the tarmac and held steady down the runway, and the plane slowed to a gentle taxi, they came flooding back – plans for the next twenty-four hours and even more immediately the next ten minutes: a blueprint for the future.
Katy would be in the airport building to meet him and he could not wait. It was less than two weeks since he had seen her, but it was two weeks too long. On the long flight from Hong Kong to Bristol her face had been everywhere – in the masses of twinkling lights that were Bahrain, Delhi and Rome, the green patchwork fields of the Low Countries, the white fluffy banks of cloud as he climbed through them. And her voice had been in his ears, the imagined sound of her laughter raising his spirits and making him eager to press on.
Katy would be there – and he had so much to tell her! A deal was being ironed out between Cormorant and Sandersons – already it was well under way – though of course Katy must never know the truth behind it, unless Elise wished it. And that would be most unlikely, Stuart thought. To spring the news suddenly on Geraldine and Katy that they were not the people they had always thought themselves to be would be both cruel and unnecessary. They had been Sandersons all their lives and there was little point in changing that now.
The firm would be saved as Elise had hoped it would be, and he was glad. The injustice of his grandfather’s lack of action over the years had sickened him. But that had all been put right now and such a situation would not occur again – Stuart himself would see to that …
‘Will you take over the formalities, Nick?’ he said to the Cormorant company pilot, Nick Thorne.
Nick nodded, sliding his black tie up his immaculate white uniform shirt.
‘Yes, tai-pan.’
‘Tai-pan.’ One corner of Stuart’s mouth threatened to twitch at the unfamiliar ludicrousness of it, but he controlled the temptation.
He was now the tai-pan of Cormorant and could still scarcely believe it. All his life he had been groomed and prepared for the position, but when the moment of handing over had come it had taken him completely unawares.
Briefly his mind returned to the meeting with his grandfather twenty-four hours after he had issued his ultimatum, and recalled the anxiety with which he had gone to the Cormorant offices. As he had said, a principle was at stake, but if his grandfather had stuck to his guns and insisted on doing things his own way, Stuart was not entirely sure that he would have carried out his threat.
Cormorant was, after all, his entire life.
But Charles had not stuck to his guns. From his leather chair overlooking the whole of Hong Kong he had told Stuart of his decision.
‘I’m tired, Stuart. I have been running Cormorant for long enough. Now it’s time for you to take over.’
Stuart’s eyes had narrowed, but he said not a word.
‘You think you know how to handle things, my boy – so you handle them.’
‘I don’t believe you can be serious, tai-pan.’ Stuart said. ‘You are still young enough to take the whole world by the short and curlies and shake it.’
Charles had smiled, but it had not reached those bleak eyes.
‘I doubt it. No, the time has come for you to have your turn, Stuart. I realised that yesterday. You are stronger than me now, whether we choose to admit it or not. Come out of the wings, my boy – take the centre stage. And may God give you the wisdom to act wisely as tai-pan of the house of Cormorant.’
To Stuart, looking back, that was the moment when he succeeded his grandfather as tai-pan, although the official handing-over had not taken place until two days later.
Now tai-pan for more than a week, the full meaning was still only just beginning to get through to him. For one thing, he would nor be able to pilot himself so often. With the Cormorant empire to rule from the penthouse apartment in Hong Kong Central, there would be less time for flying the airways of the world. But there would be compensations, too – like the knowledge that the company he would hand down to his sons and theirs would be fashioned and run in the way he wanted it.
‘Ready then, tai-pan?’
‘Ready!’ Over his shirt-sleeves he slipped on his cream linen jacket, part of the uniform of the tai-pan of Cormorant.
Together he and Nick Thorne crossed the tarmac, together they cleared the Customs and Immigration. Then, as they passed into the reception lounge, he saw her standing at the foot of the curving staircase.
Brown hair fell tantalisingly to shoulders that were tanned and almost bare except for the straps of her sunshine-yellow sundress. Long slim legs attracted glances of admiration from passing travellers and airline crews alike. But it was her smile that Stuart saw: the sweet, bright smile that lit her perfectly boned face and lent a sparkle to her brown, hazel-flecked eyes.
‘Katy!’
He would have run, but the tai-pan of Cormorant does not run in an airport lounge! But he moved rapidly towards her, picking his way between the milling passengers.
‘Stuart – you came
!’
‘Of course I came!’
Her lips were sweet beneath his, her body soft and curving. After a moment he held her away, drinking in her beauty.
‘What plans do we have, then?’
‘Plans?’
‘Where are you taking me?’
She smiled, her fingers twisted in his.
‘To see Granny, of course. She’s much better and she’s longing to see you.’
‘Is she indeed?’ It crossed his mind to wonder what he would have said if anyone other than Katy had made such a proposition – or if anyone other than Elise had been ‘Granny’.
But Katy and Elise were both special. It was as if, he thought, he had known from the first moment he had set eyes on the photograph in the locket that it would end like this.
Smiling, he took Katy’s arm.
‘We mustn’t keep her waiting, then, must we?’ he said.
Copyright
First published in 1984 by Century
This edition published 2014 by Bello
an imprint of Pan Macmillan, a division of Macmillan Publishers Limited
Pan Macmillan, 20 New Wharf Road, London N1 9RR
Basingstoke and Oxford
Associated companies throughout the world
www.panmacmillan.co.uk/bello
ISBN 978-1-4472-6638-9 EPUB
ISBN 978-1-4472-7043-0 HB
ISBN 978-1-4472-6637-2 PB
Copyright © Janet Tanner, 1984
The right of Janet Tanner to be identified as the
author of this work has been asserted in accordance
with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
Every effort has been made to contact the copyright holders of the material
reproduced in this book. If any have been inadvertently overlooked, the publisher
will be pleased to make restitution at the earliest opportunity.
You may not copy, store, distribute, transmit, reproduce or otherwise
make available this publication ( or any part of it) in any form, or by any means
(electronic, digital, optical, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise),
without the prior written permission of the publisher. Any person who does
any unauthorized act in relation to this publication may be liable to
criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.
The Macmillan Group has no responsibility for the information provided by
any author websites whose address you obtain from this book (‘author websites’).
The inclusion of author website addresses in this book does not constitute
an endorsement by or association with us of such sites or the content,
products, advertising or other materials presented on such sites.
This book remains true to the original in every way. Some aspects may appear
out-of-date to modern-day readers. Bello makes no apology for this, as to retrospectively
change any content would be anachronistic and undermine the authenticity of the original.
Bello has no responsibility for the content of the material in this book. The opinions
expressed are those of the author and do not constitute an endorsement by,
or association with, us of the characterization and content.
A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
Visit www.panmacmillan.com to read more about all our books
and to buy them. You will also find features, author interviews and
news of any author events, and you can sign up for e-newsletters
so that you’re always first to hear about our new releases.
