Michaela obstructed, questioned, slyly undermined whatever she did and was doing it so cleverly that no-one, not even their mutual friend, Jo Levy, had noticed it. Caroline had. When she’d started she had thought, perhaps naively, that Michaela would enjoy having her big sister work at Ashworths but, clearly, the thought of her having a role in the company and eventually progressing to an executive level made Michaela feel threatened. She was doing whatever she could to turn her away from their mother’s company in the hope that after a while she would lose any confidence she might have picked up and look elsewhere for something to do.
An iciness settled in Caroline’s blue eyes as she stood in front of the door, her hand lightly touching the handle. Obviously, her younger sister had no real idea of what made Caroline Ashworth tick or what she’d gone through to reach the top and become an acclaimed concert pianist — the slights, the criticisms, the back-stabbings by other jealous performers. She’d had to be emotionally tough to survive back then with her ego and sanity intact. So, she reasoned as she stood there, did Michaela really believe that the guerilla tactics she was employing against her would work?
A grim smile flicked across Caroline’s mouth, then disappeared. If so, then Michaela had no conception of the resolve of which she was capable, once she set her mind on a specific course. She sighed fatalistically as she twisted the door handle. It was time for some plain talking.
Caroline tapped on the door as she opened it. Michaela was at her desk, talking on the phone.
‘Oh, Leith. Yes, I’m fine now.’ Michaela looked up at Caroline, but continued to talk. ‘No side effects at all.’
Caroline waited for Michaela to acknowledge her before she moved to the centre of the room.
‘The police did. That’s good news. A line-up. When?’ Michaela flipped open her diary and wrote something into it. ‘Okay. You don’t have to pick me up.’ Her pause was thoughtful as he said something. ‘Oh, very well. Yes. At 3 pm. Bye.’
Michaela looked at her sister. ‘The police believe they’ve got the mugger. Boris kicked up such a fuss with the assistant police commissioner, whom he knows personally, that they dusted my car and got a couple of prints. They’ve matched them to a man with a criminal record and now they want me and Leith to view a line-up this afternoon. If we identify him correctly, he’ll be charged.’
‘That’s good.’
Michaela continued to stare at Caroline, giving her a thorough once-over. ‘I see you’re wearing a suit from the Zampatti collection.’ She mentally noted that it fitted her shorter, slender sister perfectly and the colour, a navy blue with beige piping around the lapels and pockets, suited Caroline’s toning to perfection and accentuated her blue eyes. ‘It’s good practice to wear company clothes, gives the staff and customers confidence in the products.’
‘I’ll remember that.’ Caroline waited for Michaela to ask why she was here. Normally she didn’t go anywhere near her office unless specifically invited to, or to attend a meeting with other staff. Her patience was rewarded when Michaela, noticing that she wasn’t leaving and that she didn’t have any papers to hand to her, asked the inevitable question.
‘Do you want something, Caroline?’
Caroline almost smiled. ‘I do. I want several things, Michaela.’ She moved marginally closer to the desk. ‘I want to be given a fair go at Ashworths, and you’re obstructing that. Why? I want to know what,’ she paused for effect, ‘you’re afraid of and why you’re making it obvious that you don’t like me when, as far as my memory goes, we’ve always got along. Until I came here, that is.’ She straightened to her full height, which wasn’t anywhere near Michaela’s, and placed one hand on her hip, her attitude blatantly confrontational. ‘What is your problem?’
Caught totally off guard, Michaela blinked owlishly. Her mouth tightened at her sister’s frankness. ‘That’s some list,’ she said with slow deliberation. ‘Sit down and we’ll talk.’
‘Thank you, I’d rather stand.’ Caroline knew there was a small advantage in making Michaela look up at her.
‘Okay. You’re being frank with me, so I won’t pretend I don’t know what you’re talking about. It’s true, I do resent your being here, full stop. You may not have been aware, because you’ve spent so many years overseas, but there’s always been an unofficial understanding here that one day — when I’d reached a certain maturity — I would run Ashworths. Your being in the company threatens that eventuality, even though, at the moment, you know diddly-squat about how we operate. Our mother and Daniel seem to think you’ll pick up what you need to know, then what?’ she quizzed Caroline, but didn’t wait for an answer.
‘You’re much older than me, so it could be logical to assume that if Daniel chose to retire in the next ten years, should you be a success here, you could conceivably be Ashworths’ next CEO. That doesn’t thrill me too much.’ She stared balefully at Caroline. ‘I’ve worked my guts out for Ashworths. It’s been my life ever since I can remember, even when I was at school, and my only goal has been to one day be in charge.’ She turned slightly to look out the window for a moment. I guess that’s what I’m really afraid of, she thought, but wasn’t foolish enough to say it. That Caroline might be the success and I’d be the failure, the one who didn’t have what it took to make it. She didn’t think she could endure that scenario.
Caroline’s thoughtful gaze narrowed. She knew about her younger sister’s will to succeed; it had started as a small child. Michaela hated to be second best at anything, no matter whether it was winning a game of Monopoly or Trivial Pursuit, winning on the tennis court, gaining the most badges in the Girl Guides, or getting the top place in the class. Michaela loved being first, being the best. ‘That’s a long way down the track and a “perhapser” at the best. Who can say where either of us will be in ten years?’
‘I know where I want to be: CEO of Ashworths.’ Michaela’s tone was confident. ‘I see you as a threat to that, so I have to do my best to minimise the threat.’
‘By making me look ineffectual, useless, incapable of making the right decisions?’ Caroline’s voice rose half a decibel with frustration. Why couldn’t Michaela see that the only threat was in her mind, that as far as Caroline was concerned she wasn’t there to compete with her?
‘If that’s what it takes,’ Michaela said offhandedly, tossing her head defiantly.
Caroline took that in before saying, ‘Michaela, do you really think I’ll sit by quietly and let you undermine me? I know what it’s like to be the best, too. Once I was one of the best in my field,’ she reminded her. ‘I know the intestinal fortitude it takes to get to the top, and I won’t allow you or anyone else to make me look bad the way you’ve been trying to.’ She made eye contact with Michaela and added, ‘I don’t believe there’s any need for a dragged-out fight between us, but if that’s the way you want it, I warn you — don’t underestimate me. I believe there’s room for both of us here, and that we can contribute to the company harmoniously, if we work at it.’
‘That sounds like a declaration of war to me.’
‘Only if you choose to make it so. Think, Michaela.’ Caroline sighed as she shook her head. ‘Think about our mother and how such a situation would affect her. One day you could put her in the difficult situation of having to choose … between us.’
That statement made Michaela’s lips curl in a faint sneer. ‘We know which way she’d go in that case. You’ve always been the favoured one, the special child. Even my father thought so.’
Something about her tone, a certain inflection — was it jealousy? — alerted Caroline to other emerging problems in their relationship. She had, she was finding, opened the proverbial can of worms and now who knew where it might lead? ‘Jack was a wonderful stepfather, very supportive, I don’t deny that. But he loved his children — Nick, you and Joel — unconditionally and would have done anything for each of you.’
‘But he didn’t, did he?’ Michaela rose from her chair to face Caroline, years of resentme
nt instantly bubbling to the surface. ‘He didn’t have the chance. If it hadn’t been for you and your bloody music, he might still be alive.’
‘What?’ Caroline took half a pace back, as if she’d been smacked across the face. The unexpected accusation, the venom in her half-sister’s voice, was undeniable. ‘What are you talking about?’
‘Oh, don’t give me that innocent look. You know what I mean. If my father hadn’t been in London attending your solo performance, he might not have been hit by that lorry.’
‘I’m to blame for that, am I?’
Could Michaela seriously believe that? For several moments, Caroline had difficulty grappling with the possibility. Had Michaela really harboured this grudge for all those years, believing her somehow responsible for Jack Beaumont’s death? It was unbelievable surely but, judging by her sister’s expression, that’s what Michaela did believe.
‘Indirectly, yes.’ An accusing finger pointed in Caroline’s direction. ‘It makes a kind of sense. We all flew over to be at your solo performance and if we’d gone back to the hotel instead of trying to get to your bloody celebration in Soho afterwards, the story — what happened — would have been quite different.’
‘So, this is your way of punishing me, is it? By making things difficult for me here.’
Michaela refused to answer. She simply shrugged her shoulders and half turned away to place a sheaf of paperwork on the window sill behind the desk.
Caroline frowned with growing concern. The problem was worse than she’d anticipated. Her sister believed she had a two-fold reason to make life difficult for her here: a teenager’s perception that she was to blame for her father’s death, and the consuming ambition she harboured to run Ashworths. God, how could she compete with or ever overcome that? Caroline shook her head slightly, dismayed by the turn of events. Her idea of coming to Michaela’s office for a healthy discussion about giving her a fair go had backfired. She had discovered more undercurrents of dislike than she’d imagined possible. The thought came to her, suddenly … Wouldn’t it be easier to walk away, to find something else to give her life meaning?
‘You need therapy, Michaela,’ Caroline said quietly. ‘That’s a screwball, twisted idea you have, blaming me for Jack’s death. Quite illogical.’ Again her tone rose, this time with emotion. ‘It was a very unfortunate accident; everyone in the family, including Nick, accepts that — everyone but you.’
‘Maybe,’ Michaela conceded huffily. ‘But you wanted some home truths, so I’ve given them to you. And don’t underestimate my capabilities. You know I like to win.’
So, the battle lines were drawn. Caroline was saddened by the thought. She had hoped that by confronting Michaela, they’d clear the air and everything would be as it had always been between them. That wasn’t going to happen. Her sister had this cockamamie idea that she was out to get the top job when, as far as she was concerned, that was far from the truth. Unfortunately, she couldn’t make Michaela see it. All she wanted to do at Ashworths was to contribute, to show that she could do something well other than play the piano, which was now professionally denied her.
‘Well, now you know that I know you’re trying to shaft me, I’ll be watching my back,’ Caroline warned. Without a doubt!
Michaela glanced pointedly at her watch. ‘Aren’t you supposed to be at a publicity meeting with Daniel and Jo?’
Caroline checked her watch. The meeting had started ten minutes ago. She groaned inwardly. Damn. This time, without deliberately trying to, Michaela had succeeded in making her look inefficient, again. ‘I’m going.’ She stared hard-eyed at her younger sister. ‘Think about what I said, Michaela. I’m no threat to you or your aspirations at Ashworths, it’s all in your head.’ She turned smartly on her heel and left the office.
Michaela stared at the closed door for a long time after Caroline had left, myriad thoughts running through her brain. Was she to blame? Had she misread Caroline completely and misinterpreted Daniel’s and their mother’s wishes? Was she paranoid, as her sister inferred? Did she need counselling?
She took a deep breath, then another, trying to sort things out in her head. Just now Caroline had come over as being so … calm, apparently honest and not glory-seeking. Was she allowing her ambitions and her fear of failure to cloud her normally astute judgement? Agitated, she sat in her chair for a while, then stood up and began to pace the small office. Did she need therapy? She stared at the half-finished marketing report and pushed it to a corner of her desk; her concentration was shattered. She knew she had some serious thinking to do.
And, damn it, Leith would be here in half an hour to take her to that police line-up …
Chapter Seven
A tense silence reigned over the four occupants of the Beaumont family dining room that night.
Fern was away, staying overnight at a friend’s house. Halfway through the main course, Laura lay down her knife and fork. She looked from one daughter to the other, both of whom were studying the contents of their respective dinner plates as if they contained the most fascinating morsels ever set before them.
‘All right, you two, there’s been enough silence. I know about the row you had at the store. Evidently, your voices could be heard all the way into the accounts department,’ Laura told them coolly. ‘What my informant couldn’t tell me was what the row was about.’ She stared at her eldest daughter, then the youngest, an eyebrow raised expectantly. ‘Caroline? Michaela?’
Michaela and Caroline looked across the table at each other. Joel, an interested neutral party, watched the by-play as he glanced from one to the other expectantly.
‘Understand this. I will not have dissension between my children in the store.’ Laura’s tone was insistent, and she tapped the white linen tablecloth to emphasise the point. She stared at Caroline. ‘Well?’
By silent mutual consent, the sisters joined forces to disguise the true content of the argument from their mother.
‘Just some teething problems between Michaela and myself, Mum. Nothing to worry about.’ Caroline glanced at her younger sister and smiled, hoping it looked sincere. ‘We kind of thrashed things out, didn’t we?’ She smiled again when Michaela nodded affirmatively.
‘I was told it sounded a bit more serious than teething problems,’ Laura said astutely, her gaze narrowing on them. ‘It was described as two she-cats spitting at each other.’ She sighed and shook her head. ‘Disgraceful.’
‘Sounds like your informant was Neil. That’s the kind of language he’d use,’ Michaela said sagely. Little snitch. He probably loved the idea that she and Caroline were at loggerheads and would make capital out of it one way or another, probably by insinuating himself in deeper with Daniel.
‘It’s no concern of yours who told me. What is your concern, and Caroline’s too, is that it doesn’t happen again. Am I making myself clear?’
‘Yes,’ the female siblings chorused together.
‘I take it that neither of you cares to give me the finer details of what was said?’
‘Let’s just call it a personality clash,’ Michaela admitted, looking to Caroline for confirmation. Her sister’s expressive eyes revealed that worrying their mother wasn’t the way to go, that if they had problems — there was no if about it as far as she was concerned — they’d work through it without causing Laura undue anxiety.
Laura studied each woman, bemused and puzzled by their behaviour. Michaela and Caroline never argued about anything; this was uncharacteristic. Her longing to get to the bottom of it wasn’t going to be appeased either; she could gauge that from their closed expressions. Michaela was young and inclined to react aggressively and Caroline, mature, diplomatic and caring, wouldn’t want to worry her. They were closing ranks, the two of them, she noted with a mixture of frustration and satisfaction. At least that meant they could be in accord on something. A personality clash. Hah! She doubted that very much.
‘Michaela, Caroline, it’s important for you both to understand that you must display
family unity at Ashworths. We don’t want staff splitting into two camps. That would be bad for morale, bad for the company, and we have enough difficulties as it is. Whatever problems you two might have, keep them under control when at the store. Am I making myself clear here?’
‘Sure, Mum,’ Michaela said, and Caroline nodded in agreement.
Joel, ever considerate of his mother’s health, tried to move everyone to a less stressful topic, sensing that Laura was still upset. ‘How are the plans going for Easter, Caroline?’
‘Everything’s going well.’ Caroline smiled gratefully at him, pleased with his adroit change of topic. ‘Everyone invited is coming. Should be about twenty-five people, plus half a dozen children or so. I’ve hired one of those canvas marquees to put up next to the pool, just in case the weather’s difficult. Daphne’s organising a caterer to do the food. We should pray for a nice day, weatherwise.’
Taking Joel’s cue, Michaela added her piece. ‘I haven’t told you, but Leith and I identified the mugger this afternoon. The police are going to charge him with assault causing grievous bodily harm. Boris reckons that because of his form, previous arrests and gaol time, a judge will most likely put him away for several years.’
‘You’ll have to testify, won’t you?’ Joel asked.
‘Of course. That’s not a problem. With my testimony and Leith’s, the police are confident of a conviction.’
Daphne came in to clear the main course plates. ‘Anyone for dessert?’ She smiled at Joel. ‘It’s your favourite, rhubarb pie and whipped cream or ice-cream.’
Michaela and Joel said yes, while Laura and Caroline declined.
In bed that night Laura lay with her eyes wide open, thinking. She wasn’t at all satisfied with the outcome of the discussion at dinner. Something peculiar was going on between Michaela and Caroline; there was an aura of tension that neither wanted to admit. Deep down she sensed the source was Michaela more than her older daughter, and that it was tied up with the company. Was it jealousy, competitiveness or envy? Perhaps all three. Michaela had the capacity to brood, and to magnify situations that were of little real importance out of proportion.
52 Waratah Avenue Page 11
