CHAPTER TWO
Norrie arrived at the Observer soon after nine the next morning, intending to have a talk with Sue before the meeting started, but when she walked through the main door, she was greeted by one of the women at the desk with, 'I've got a message for you. You're to go to see Mr Denton as soon as you come in.'
The girl eyed her with avid curiosity as Norrie stared at her for a moment, taken by surprise. Then the full implication of the summons hit her; Bruno must have found out about the union meeting and guessed that she'd been talking. So he'd decided to fire her and get her out of the building before she could do him any more damage. Her cheeks slowly suffused with anger as Norrie worked it out and her chin came up defiantly. Well, he needn't think that he could get rid of her that easily. She began to walk towards the staff door, but the girl called her back.
'You're going the wrong way, Mr Denton's taken over the Board Room as his office.'
'Mr Denton,' Norrie said clearly, 'will have to wait. I have more important business to attend to at the moment.' And she went on her way.
Luckily Sue was already in her office and a 'phone call brought Ted hurrying in a few minutes later.
'What's up?' It was Ted's usual greeting, but this morning he looked a bit rattled.
'I want you to take charge of these papers for me,' Norrie told him, handing over her father's battered old briefcase. 'Perhaps you'd better go through them, if you have time before the meeting.'
'Right, I'll do that.' He took the case and then glanced at Norrie's set face. 'You are coming to the meeting, aren't you?'
'I want to—but I might be prevented. Bruno Denton's sent for me and I think he may realise what's happening, so it's quite likely that he'll give me the sack and order me straight out of the building.'
'He can't do that! You're a member of the union. And, besides, he's got no grounds.'
'You don't know him,' Norrie pointed out grimly. 'If he wants to get rid of me, he'll find a way easily enough. I'm only part-time, remember? He could use that as an excuse.'
'But then he'd have to sack all the other part-timers as well,' Sue protested.
'Do you think that would stop him?' Norrie asked forcefully.
They stared at her, only really just beginning to take it in. The 'phone rang stridently in the silence. Sue automatically picked it up and listened, then put the receiver down and said in a numb kind of voice, 'That was the receptionist. It seems that Denton saw you come into the building and he wants to know why you aren't in his office.'
Trust Bruno to take over the Board Room, Norrie thought, recognising the psychological advantage it gave him. She had never even been in there before and her footsteps slowed as she walked along the carpeted corridor towards it. The next few minutes were going to be unpleasant to say the least. Thoughts, memories, chased through her mind but were swiftly buried; there could only be one emotion that must be allowed to show now and that was cold, implacable hatred. Quickly, before she could change her mind, Norrie knocked on the door and went in, her shoulders braced to face him.
Immediate anti-climax; Bruno was talking on the 'phone, half-sitting on the edge of the big table that took up most of the space in the room. He looked up as she came in and motioned her to sit down in a chair just by the table, but Norrie didn't feel like just sitting there having him watch her while he talked, so she went past the table to the other side of the room. It was an old building and there were long windows looking out over the street with deep wooden sills. Norrie sat on one of the sills and looked out of the window at the bow windowed cafe across the street and the Cenotaph forming a traffic island in the middle of the square that opened a little further down the road.
Bruno was talking earnestly but she wasn't listening to the words, just the sound of his voice. It brought back long-suppressed memories of other telephone conversations years ago, when each word had been a caress, his voice an extension of his hands to set her body on fire with longing, aching to have him touch her again. Her will-power wasn't strong enough. Inevitably Norrie's eyes turned towards him. He was sitting almost entirely with his back towards her so that she could look at him in safety. He was wearing a conservative dark grey suit but Norrie remembered the broadness of his shoulders beneath it, the muscles in his back and the silky smoothness of his chest when it touched her own. She remembered the athletic slimness of his waist and hips, the flat plane of his stomach, and the proud manhood that had made her his. And she remembered, too, the caged strength of his body, strength over which he had sometimes lost control during those moments of breathtaking passion when he had held her in his arms and loved her.
He had finished speaking and she hadn't noticed. Bruno put down the receiver and paused for a long moment before slowly turning to face her. His eyes on her face, he said shortly, 'Stand up.'
Reluctantly Norrie obeyed him, her eyes still dark and languid from her thoughts, heightened colour on her cheeks.
For minutes their glances held but then Bruno very slowly and deliberately lowered his eyes, mentally stripping her, his gaze scorching her as it lingered in all the most intimate places.
'Stop it!' Norrie half-turned away from him, looking at him over her shoulder.
'Stop what?' he asked silkily, his dark eyes only slowly coming back to her face.
'You know exactly what I mean. You were— undressing me.'
'And weren't you just now indulging in the same thing?'
'But how did...' Norrie stopped, confused and embarrassed.
'Quite,' Bruno said mockingly.
Norrie bit her lip and took refuge in anger. 'I was told that you wanted to see me,' she reminded him coldly.
'Yes, I do.' He came round the table and walked towards her.
'What—what about?' Norrie's chin was up but she eyed him warily for all that.
He came close, standing only a foot away. 'Maybe— to talk about old times.'
Bright sparks of anger flashed in her eyes. 'There's nothing I want to talk over with you.'
She went to swing away but he caught her hand and held on to it even though she immediately tried to wrench it away.
'It was a long time ago, Norrie. And we meant a lot to each other once.'
Her face flamed. 'How dare you say that? You of all people? All you ever cared about was yourself. You were just using me. Well, I was young then and fool enough to fall for it, but not now.' She laughed scornfully. 'Oh, no. You needn't think you can use me to get what you want a second time.'
Dropping her hand, Bruno moved away to lean against the wall and Norrie felt a momentary sense of relief, but he folded his arms and looked at her rather derisively. 'I thought that by now you'd be adult enough to have looked on the whole thing objectively and thought it through for yourself. I tried to explain my actions to you at the time, but you wouldn't listen. Okay, maybe I didn't manage things as sensitively as I might have done, but don't forget it was my first experience of that kind of thing, and the circumstances were awkward, to say the least. Because of us. Because we were lovers.' He said the word deliberately and Norrie flinched as if he'd struck her, turning away to stare out of the window, her face very pale. After a moment, he went on, 'You listened to everyone else who came running to you with their sob stories, but you wouldn't listen to me. You wouldn't even try to reason it out. You believed them and . ..'
'And I still do,' Norrie cut in bitingly. 'So let's stop wasting time, shall we? You'll never persuade me to change my mind about you, so you may as well go ahead and fire me.'
A withdrawn look, like a shutter being pulled down, came into Bruno's face. 'Why should I want to fire you?'
'Because it's the only other way you have of trying to keep me quiet about the past—now that you know your first ploy hasn't worked,' Norrie told him with angry triumph in her voice.
Straightening up, Bruno said tiredly, 'I suppose there's no point in trying to convince you that that wasn't my intention in asking you to see me. You won't believe me any more now than
you did then.'
'No.'
Bruno rounded on her suddenly, unconcealed anger in his eyes, and for a startled moment Norrie thought that he was going to reach out and grab her, so that she stepped quickly away. But he merely said tersely, 'I have no intention of giving you the sack. If you want to give the people here your version of what happened in Devon, then that's your privilege—and their bad luck. Because you're just going to make things harder for them. I intend to make whatever changes^ are necessary to make this paper into a going concern, either with the co-operation of the staff or without it. But it would make it a whole lot easier for them if we could do it without a fight.'
'A whole lot easier for you, you mean,' Norrie interrupted scornfully.
To her surprise he nodded. 'And for me,' he agreed. 'But there can only be one winner in this fight, Norrie. Remember that. I'll win in the end. The only people who are going to get hurt are your colleagues—and yourself,' he added deliberately.
Norrie took a deep breath. 'Is that a threat?' she demanded.
Moving to the head of the table he sat down in the Managing Director's chair, leaning back in it casually as if he owned the place. 'I wouldn't dream of threatening you. I haven't forgotten—any more than you have—what we had. And some of what we had was very, very good.'
He said the words silkily, his eyes emphasising his meaning as they ran over her slim body. Norrie flushed and strode across the room to the door, but when she reached it she hesitated and looked back. 'Did you know my father was dead?'
Bruno grew still. 'Yes, I heard. I'm sorry.'
Her hand tightened on the door handle until it hurt. 'He died because of you. Because of what you did to him. I'll never forgive you for that.' And then she stepped out of the room, walking blindly down the corridor and breaking into a run as she reached the stairs.
Sue and Ted were waiting for her in Sue's office. They looked up anxiously when she hurried in. 'What happened?' Sue demanded. 'Did you get kicked out?'
Somehow Norrie brought her whirling thoughts back to the present and shook her head. 'No. But—but he warned me off. Said that raking up the past wouldn't do any good. That we'd lose.' Her voice trailed off.
'Are you all right? Did he upset you?' Sue asked with frowning concern.
'Oh, no. I'm okay.' Norrie tried to pull herself together. 'Having to face him brought it all back, that's all.'
'What else did he say?' Ted demanded.
'He said that if we fought him, we'd be the only losers. Because he'd win in the end.'
'Oh, did he?' Ted bristled. 'We'll see about that. I'd better go,' he added, after glancing at his watch. 'See you girls at the meeting.'
When he'd gone Sue fished a half bottle of whisky and a couple of glasses out of the bottom drawer of her desk. 'Here,' she offered, half-filling the glasses, 'you look as if you need this. Give yourself a bit of Dutch courage before you have to get up and face them all.'
Norrie laughed hollowly. 'Facing everyone here is nothing after ten minutes with Bruno.'
'I take it,' Sue said carefully, 'that you knew him pretty well?'
'I suppose you could say that,' Norrie admitted. The neat whisky felt raw on her tongue but warm inside. She was surprised to see that her hand was shaking a little and was annoyed that she'd let Bruno get to her that much. 'He was down in Devon for nearly five months and came to the paper every day.'
'He couldn't have been that old then, could he? He only looks about thirty now.'
'Thirty-two,' Norrie corrected. 'He was about twenty-seven then.'
'Quite young for that kind of job, surely?'
Norrie drained her glass. 'He was old enough. Quite old enough to know what he wanted and how to get it.'
'And if you knew him that well, he must have wanted you—and got you, too.'
Norrie looked at Sue and nodded briefly, then stood up. 'It must be time for the meeting, let's go, shall we?'
The entire staff of the Welford Observer without exception attended the union meeting held in the big office on the ground floor. The main doors were closed and the 'phones switched off so that there wouldn't be any interruptions. Ted climbed on to a box and addressed everyone first, explaining about the take-over and saying that changes were bound to be made, but that he'd got some evidence about the way they might be handled that he wanted them all to hear. But before he could call Norrie forward, Harry Simons, the Editor, demanded to speak.
Taking Ted's place on the box, he said, 'All of you have already had a letter about this, explaining the position. It's early days yet and there's no point in rushing into precipitate and possibly unnecessary action before we even know what's going to happen. By now most of you have met Mr Denton from Provincial Press. He seems to be a fair-minded man whose aim is to get the paper back on its feet, and not necessarily by cutting back on staff.'
'Fair-minded?' Ted Burtenshaw broke in loudly. 'I'd not call what he did at Norrie's old paper fair-minded. You listen to this.' He pulled Norrie forward. 'Go on, girl, you tell 'em.'
The Editor grudgingly gave up his place to her and Norrie looked nervously round, clutching her briefcase tightly to her. For a few seconds she couldn't speak but then she remembered the people who had trusted Bruno all those years ago and her voice came out firm and clear as, for the third time in two days, she described the way he'd got that other paper 'back on its feet'. 'Denton was given a carte blanche by his company and he took full advantage of it,' she told them. 'He used underhand methods to find out the weaknesses of the senior members of the staff and, if they wouldn't agree to put through the changes he wanted, he used those weaknesses either as a threat or to get rid of them. He even went as far as to suggest absolutely outrageous changes knowing that they wouldn't be tolerated, which gave him an excuse to get rid of people he wanted out of the way. I have here several written statements from staff of the Westland Gazette that Denton sacked. They detail his ruthlessness and cruelty.' She looked questioningly at Ted. 'Shall I read them out, or would you rather?'
'No, no. You go ahead, girl.'
Norrie read them carefully and clearly, concentrating on what she was doing, but her voice faltered and dried up completely as she turned a page and caught sight of Bruno standing in a corner near the door. He hadn't been there when the meeting had started and she hadn't seen him come in so had no idea how long he'd been listening. As her voice died away everyone in the room followed her eyes and turned to look, many of them with angry scowls on their faces when they saw who it was. Bruno stood their scrutiny quite calmly, leaning against the wall with his arms folded, waiting for her to go on.
After a few moments Norrie did so, but her voice was unsteady now, and no one was really listening. She came to a finish and looked at Ted. He stepped forward.
'I think we all owe Norrie a vote of thanks for bringing this to our attention.' There was a general cheer and loud clapping as Norrie got down; many people again turning round to see how Bruno was taking it, but his face betrayed no emotion whatsoever. Ted went on, 'Well, you've all heard what we can expect. The facts speak for themselves and I for one think we should ...'
'One moment.' Bruno's voice cut through the murmur of approval at Ted's words like a knife and there was instant silence in the big room. 'You have heard a great many accusations made at me this morning, and I think it only fair that I should be allowed to answer them. Or am I to be condemned out of hand?' he added, when Ted stood silent.
Everyone began to speak to their neighbour but the buzz turned to speculation as Ted said, 'All right, we'll hear what you've got to say,' and Bruno made his way through the crowded room to the makeshift rostrum, but he didn't stand on it, he was tall enough for them all to see him.
'Thank you.' Bruno turned to face them all, his hands casually in the pockets of his trousers. He looked very much in control of himself, supremely self-confident, and Norrie suddenly felt sick inside, knowing his power to charm, to sway people the way he wanted. 'Miss Peters,' he began, nodding in her dir
ection, 'has given you a lot of evidence about the Westland Gazette which sounds very damning.' He paused. 'On the face of it. But consider, if you will, the circumstances. That was a very rural newspaper that had been run without change for over a hundred years. Things had been good once so why change them? The senior staff were, to say the least, very senior, and very much against change. The circulation of the paper had gone right down and there were others in the wings just waiting to move in and finish it altogether. They were digging their own graves but were too blind to see it.
'I spent several months there trying to reason with them, to make them see that they must get into the twentieth century fast or go under completely. But hardly any of the senior staff would listen. They were too stuck in their ways. Then I got a rocket from my own bosses; they'd already given me more time than they'd intended. So then the ruthlessness and cruelty that Miss Peters has described to you comes into it. I admit that I was ruthless. Even cruel, if you can call it cruel to tell a man that he must change or go. Some of them I think would have agreed if it hadn't been for the attitude of the Editor, Miss Peters' father.'
Norrie kept her head down but she felt everyone stir and look at her, and a whisper go round the room.
'He refused point blank to improve or change the paper in any way and bullied—or encouraged, if you like—his colleagues to do the same. And so they had to go. Much as I regretted the decision, I had no choice but to fire them.' Bruno paused to let that sink in, then went on, 'You have heard the statements from these people for yourselves, but what are they, when it boils down to it, but the complaints of people who have been made redundant after being in their jobs for a great many years. Miss Peters has accused me of cruelty, but doesn't everyone who has been made redundant consider that they have been treated cruelly—by their bosses, by the Government, by fate? But most of these people from the Westland Gazette brought it on themselves by their dog-in-the-manger attitudes. They have only themselves to blame. The Gazette, as anyone here can find out for themselves, is now a flourishing newspaper with a wide circulation that is rapidly expanding and showing a nice margin of profit.'
Fatal Deception Page 3
