Chloe's Rescue Mission

by Dean, Rosie

  ‘You want me to reduce it?’ His voice was stern but the eyebrows were lifting. ‘This must be a first! Nobody’s ever told me I’m paying them too much, before.’

  Of course they hadn’t. I should have kept my trap shut.

  He looked grumpy. ‘Listen. It’s a fair rate for the kind of job you’re going to be doing. It’ll be tough. This is much more than a family hobby you’ve got yourself into.’ I bristled as he continued. ‘If you really want to make a success of it, you’re going to have to work bloody hard. And if I’m investing my own cash, I’ve got good reason to make sure the job’s done properly.’

  I gasped. ‘Are you in any doubt that I would do it properly? It’s my family’s project, after all.’ How soon till he asked me to call it the Duncan Thorsen Theatre?

  ‘Of course not. But I want you to see it through. And paying you a good salary will, I hope, ensure that.’

  ‘Duncan, I’d have seen it through if you didn’t pay me at all.’

  He tutted. ‘Next you’ll be telling me I’ve offended you by even paying you a salary!’ His words were clipped and his accent had become more Scottish.

  ‘Of course not. But – you seem to be suggesting I don’t have the tenacity to see it through without some financial reward.’

  Duncan’s jaw clenched. ‘That’s not what I meant.’

  I chewed on my lip and finally said. ‘And it’s not a family hobby. We may not be international business moguls but work in the theatre is very important to us.’

  ‘Look, without a decent salary, you’ll find it difficult to function properly. You don’t need the extra anxiety about whether or not you can cover household expenses. Nor do you want the worry of repaying a whole bunch of personal debts when the project’s finished, do you?’

  I shook my head. ‘No, but…’

  ‘And remember, Thorsen Leisure intends to consult you, from time-to-time, as well. Consider it payment for consultancy. Would that be acceptable?’

  The universe wasn’t just handing me a benefactor for the theatre, it was making sure I remained solvent. Who was I to argue with the universe?

  ‘When you put it that way, yes.’

  He nodded. ‘Okay. That’s sorted then.’

  ‘Yes. Thank you.’

  ‘Good.’ He flipped open his phone. ‘Excuse me, I have a call to make.’

  Mercifully, his conversation lasted until the car slowed down outside Paddington Station. He held the phone away whilst he said goodbye, and I made my escape.

  I arrived home in the early evening. Mum was at choir practice. I threw myself onto the sofa and groaned. Kandy dropped at my feet and groaned in sympathy. What had possessed me? Okay, so Duncan had made some thoughtless comments but jack it all, he’d done more than put his hand in his pocket for the theatre, he’d involved his staff and was even organising a documentary to be made. How could I have over-reacted so badly? It would serve me right if he pulled out of the whole thing.

  I groaned again.

  Mind you, the family hobby comment was punching below the belt and totally disrespectful. Was this the true Duncan?

  What was the alternative? Warren’s offer was still at the proposal stage, and there needed to be some legal discussion to define the contract between King Lloyd and the theatre. Maybe when I had that, I could turn my back on Duncan and his precious money, for good. There were enough complications in my life without adding the Duncan connection…or the Warren one, for that matter.

  ‘Oh bloody, sodding, bummoxing hell!’ I threw my head back and stared at the dusty lampshade.

  There was a muffled ringing from within my handbag. I stared at it for a long moment and finally pulled the phone out of it. ‘Hi Beth,’ I said – conscious I was about to be subjected to her rapid-fire cross-questioning.

  ‘Well, how did it go?’

  ‘Good, I suppose.’

  ‘Oooh. I know that tone of voice. What went wrong?’

  ‘Well…’

  ‘Is it the gorgeous Duncan?’

  I rolled my eyes and summarised my day, finally closing with the conversation in the car.

  Beth, not having been able to get a word in sideways for the last few minutes, finally said, ‘Is that it?’

  I stared at the phone. ‘Beth – you’ve heard the saying “don’t bite the hand that feeds you”. Well Duncan’s going home tonight with an impression of my teeth across his palm.’

  ‘No, no, no! You’ve done exactly what Grandee would have done. You’ve established a principle. Nothing wrong with that. Duncan knows where he stands, and if he drops the project because of it – he’s a jerk, move on.’

  ‘But Beth, how ungrateful was I? We can’t afford for him to drop us.’

  ‘Chloe, this is business. It’s about finding the right people to work with. Do you really want to get tied into a business relationship with someone who doesn’t see it from your point of view?’

  I nibbled the edge of my thumbnail. My sister might be outrageous and devil-may-care but she had a surprisingly sound head on her shoulders. Finally I said, ‘You’re right. I know you’re right. Why couldn’t I see it that way?’

  ‘Because you let emotion get in the way.’ I didn’t answer, which was enough of a confession for Beth. ‘I rest my case.’

  ‘Should I phone him and apologise?’

  ‘What? For defending the family honour? Just sign the contract!’

  ‘But is it the right thing to do?’

  ‘Chloe, he’s offering you a salary for a year, right?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘And contacts, a TV documentary, the support of his mighty empire, right?’

  ‘Yes but then there’s this offer from Warren’s company.’

  Beth harrumphed. ‘Has he actually put an offer on the table?’

  ‘Kind of…Mum and I have read the proposal.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘I don’t know. It looks complicated. But it would mean all the building work is taken care of.’

  ‘Great! You’ll have two in the bush…so to speak.’

  I laughed.

  ‘So go ahead and sign the contract. What have you got to lose?’

  ‘Right. I will.’

  ‘And if you want my opinion, when the theatre’s back on its feet, you can rekindle all that passion you both discovered in Barcelona.’

  ‘Beth! That is so not going to happen.’

  ‘Why ever not? I think you’re mad. He’s already shown he has the hots for you and vice-versa. Now you’ve both cooled it, there’s bound to be a massive frisson of sexual tension between you. Jeez, it’ll be like make-up sex on speed!’

  ‘I don’t need that kind of excitement.’ I said, wearily.

  She let out a cry of frustration. ‘Well I bloody do, even if I have to get it vicariously through you.’

  ‘Beth, I’ll sign the contract – but that’s all.’

  ‘Whatever!’

  Chapter 16

  The following morning, I sent the contract off with a letter of thanks. As I popped it into the post-box, I couldn’t help wincing as I thought about my response to Duncan’s attitude. Twelve months in the mañana territory of Central America hadn’t completely ironed out my ability to over-react.

  The phone in my pocket rang. Flipping it open I saw it was Thorsen Leisure. ‘Morning, Chloe. It’s Duncan, here.’

  ‘Hello Duncan,’ I said, feeling my pulse increase. ‘I’m glad you rang, I wanted to apologise…’ I said, just as he was saying, ‘Chloe, I wanted to apologise for…’ And then we both paused, before crashing across each other again so I shut up.

  Duncan continued. ‘I’m in absolutely no doubt about your commitment to the project. And I realise my hobby comment was totally out of order.’

  ‘It was…but I shouldn’t have risen to it so dramatically.’

  ‘Well…it’s a theatrical project.’

  I managed a chuckle.

  ‘I also wanted to let you know that my company…I… really am behind the pr
oject.’

  ‘Thank you, Duncan. Although, I do have one slight concern.’

  ‘Go on.’

  ‘I think it’s fantastic that you’re giving us all this backing and I’m so grateful but…’ I sighed and pulled on a lock of hair as I thought about what to say.

  ‘You don’t want me to turn it into the Thorsen Leisure Theatre.’ I held the phone away from my face and looked at it in disbelief. At my silence, he continued, ‘Don’t worry. I won’t let that happen. But in the interest of the theatre, you really can’t afford to make any more wrong decisions.’

  ‘I know. And believe me, I don’t intend to.’

  ‘Good. So will you be signing the contract?’

  I grinned. ‘Yes.’

  ‘That’s the right decision. Now, there’ll be a TV crew heading down the M4 to interview you, tomorrow. Can you meet them at the theatre at two?’

  My jaw dropped. It was on the tip of my tongue to say, How do you know I don’t have other plans? But since he was now paying me, thought better of it. Duncan was definitely a man of action. Control freak, maybe, but he certainly got things moving and right now, that was exactly what the theatre needed. ‘Of course. Thanks for organising it.’

  ‘My pleasure. See you.’

  And then he was gone. Leaving me with a grin on my face.

  *

  Duncan breathed in the smell of peat smoke as he stepped out of the car. It might be spring down in Regent’s Park, with office workers lazing about on the grass at lunch time, but up here, at his hotel in Perthshire, a real fire was still essential. He looked around him. The light was dramatic; sunshine glistening on the damp grey stone wall of the garden and the trees beyond, which were set against the Prussian blue sky of a retreating storm. The contrast was stunning. Oh yes, he enjoyed a good sunset in Mauritius and the Northern Lights in Sweden were astonishing – but here, at home, this scene was one he had witnessed throughout his life, and it always warmed his heart to see it again.

  The old Victorian hotel had been lovingly restored, with carved gable ends and a traditional, canopied terrace. A sympathetically designed annexe to house a conference room and twelve new bedrooms had been added a couple of years ago,.

  ‘Uncle Duncle!’ Six-year old Harry came hurtling across the lawn, a model aeroplane clutched above his head.

  ‘Hey! How’s ma’boy?’ Duncan hoisted him up into the air before hugging him tightly.

  ‘Did you fly here? Did you come in your plane? Will you take me up in it?’ He smelled of liquorice and there was a charcoal grey outline to his bottom lip.

  Duncan chuckled. ‘No, I came on a big plane, today.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Because running a private jet costs your poor old uncle lots of money.’

  ‘I’ve got lots of money. I’ve got twenty-two pounds in my safe.’

  ‘Well I’m very pleased to hear it. You’re the man to know.’ He shifted Harry onto his hip and carried him back into the hotel and through to his sister’s apartment.

  Emily was curled up on the sofa, hiding a five-month bump behind a magazine. ‘Yay! How’s ma’big brother?’ she said, dropping the magazine and putting her arm up to him.

  ‘So much better for being here.’ Still holding Harry, he sat beside her and leaned in for a hug.

  ‘You work too hard. Why don’t you stay the week?’

  ‘Because I work too hard,’ he joked, and leaned his head against hers. It was two months since he’d made the journey to see her.

  ‘Yes, stay!’ Harry yelled, bouncing on his uncle’s lap.

  ‘Two nights is quite enough of you, young man. Now, go get that safe of yours and we’ll count your money, eh?’

  Harry jumped off and scuttled out of the room.

  ‘How’s my wee niece coming along?’ he asked, stroking Emily’s bump.

  ‘Restless today. Turning cartwheels, I think.’

  ‘Good. She’s energetic.’

  ‘Unlike me. She’s sapping all of mine.’

  ‘Then let me put in a manager; tide you over the next few months.’

  ‘Aw, Duncan, no. I can cope. I’ve just started getting a bit tired lately, that’s all.’

  Duncan sat up and looked at her, ‘Emily love, you don’t have to cope.’

  ‘I’ll be fine. I’m not due maternity leave for another twelve weeks. And I’ve to prepare for the summer season before I go.’

  ‘That’s the beauty of a family business, you can take time off whenever you like.’ If it weren’t for the fact she was a damn good manager, he’d recommend she gave up work altogether and stayed home to look after her growing family. Just because their mother had worked all hours, he didn’t see why his sister had to as well. Financially it wasn’t necessary but she was proud and stubborn. He knew her husband, Jim, agreed with him, which was a cause of great tension in their marriage, so he didn’t push it. She’d only accuse him of being a chauvinist, anyway.

  Harry rushed back in, brandishing a blue and grey plastic safe, rattling with coins. Emily lifted herself away from the cushions and stood up. ‘We’re having beef in ale – sound good?’

  Duncan moaned. ‘Like heaven.’

  The following day was Emily’s day off, and in honour of Duncan’s rare visit, Jim was taking the day off too. The weather was glorious so, with Harry at school, they drove over to the loch, where they kept a four-berth cruiser.

  Jim, who was thick-set and still played the odd game of rugby, settled into the cockpit with Emily beside him, and Duncan stood behind them both. As the cruiser purred away from the jetty, Jim glanced over his shoulder at Duncan. ‘Been seeing a lot of you in the papers, recently. How do you manage all that?’

  ‘Charm, charisma, money…the usual.’

  ‘Ha!’ Jim laughed and shook his head. ‘I meant, how do you not get pissed off with all the attention?’

  ‘I do. But what’s to be gained from making a fuss?’

  Emily cut in, ‘Jim’s just jealous of all the women you’re seen with. That’s what he really means by, how do you do it?’

  Jim reached a hand across to her. ‘He answered that...charm, charisma, money.’

  ‘You know what the papers are like,’ Duncan smiled.

  ‘I know,’ Emily said, as if she’d heard it all before. ‘Just because you’re seen in the paper with a girl, doesn’t mean you’re dating her.’

  ‘Exactly.’

  ‘So was that you snogging Joshua Steele’s granddaughter, or your body double?’

  Ah. He’d wondered when she’d bring that up. ‘Chloe, you mean.’ He knew Emily was desperate for him to find someone and settle down.

  ‘Chloe, exactly. You’re not usually caught in the act, so either Chloe’s pretty special or extremely cunning. Please tell me she’s not another Bridie Nash.’

  ‘God, no!

  ‘So..?’

  ‘Aw, come on! I only met her a couple of weeks ago. And that photo was…well, it was just one of those things. A warm night and too much wine.’

  Jim, who wasn’t famous for enjoying deep and meaningful chats about relationships, pulled back on the throttle, turning the boat slightly to starboard as he did so. ‘And a cracking beauty. Go for it, ma’son!’

  Duncan smiled, and steadied himself by holding onto the seat backs, just catching the look in his sister’s eye. She wasn’t going to let him off that lightly.

  ‘You like her enough to bankroll her ailing theatre,’ she said, swivelling her seat round to look at him.

  ‘You know as well as I do, plenty of charities have benefited from Thorsen Leisure in the last couple of years.’

  ‘But you’re actually employing her.’

  ‘I see you’ve been talking to Marlean.’

  ‘Is Chloe the person you have in mind for taking over when I’m on maternity leave?’

  ‘No. Not at all. Right out of her field of experience.’

  ‘Shame, I was hoping to meet her.’

  By way of diversion, Duncan pointed at an
old clinker-built yacht. ‘You’d think there’d be a law against painting a fine old boat that colour, eh, Jim?’

  ‘I know. Yoghurt pink. Hideous.’

  ‘So, could Chloe be someone special?’ Emily persisted.

  He was sure Chloe was special, everyone was special. But he wasn’t sure he was ready to introduce that special kind of complication into his life. ‘Emily, don’t worry, you’ll be the first person to know if I ever find someone special.’

  ‘What’s she like?’

  Jim shook his head. ‘Give the guy a break, woman!’

  ‘I’ll tell you what she’s like; she’s infuriating, like you.’

  A little smile twitched on his sister’s lips, before she swivelled her seat back and tilted her nose up to savour the fresh air.

  *

  I was disappointed to find it was Ross who turned up to do the interview. A fug of smoke clung to him like clouds around Ben Nevis. Despite there being a no smoking rule throughout the theatre, he was constantly lighting up only to stub it out moments later when I reminded him.

  The interview got underway with questions about my plans for the theatre. In between takes, as the crew adjusted lighting and aspect, Ross discussed his plans for the documentary. He explained that the structure of the programme would evolve over the next few weeks as they acquired more and more material.

  ‘The important thing, is to hook the audience on an emotional level as well as an intellectual one.’ And with that, the slime-ball launched into a volley of questions about my relationship with Duncan.

  ‘The papers blew it all out of proportion, we’re just colleagues, Ross,’ I stressed.

  He wouldn’t let the subject drop. He kept referring back to the kiss in the garden. Finally, I snapped, put my hand up to the camera and strode past the crew into the office.

  When Ross caught up with me, I turned on him. ‘It’s pretty clear to me that it was you who leaked that picture to the press!’

  ‘Hey now! You can get into trouble making allegations like that!’ He warned, pulling out another cigarette.

  ‘Don’t you dare…’ I glared at the cigarette. He shrugged and pushed it back in the packet before I could get him in an arm-lock. I continued, ‘I’m sorry, but suddenly, this doesn’t seem like such a good idea.’