Twisted Love and Money

by Kennedy, Thomas

  “His overheads are low and he has a long track record with the banks,” Dermot interjected.

  “He is too old,” Michael insisted.

  “Of course he is too old,” Dermot agreed.

  Michael opened a bottle and poured himself a drink of water. He began to calm down. Dermot’s announcement had given him a fright. Dermot had read from the copious notes he had taken in his meeting with O’Donoghue.

  “What does he really want?” John asked.

  “His ass kicked,” Peter threw in.

  Dermot ignored Peter.

  “I don’t know what he is up to. He is an old devil. I’d almost swear he knew we had him targeted for a takeover. We will have to watch our step. O’Donoghue was well up, clearly having taken legal advice. He was spouting about fair trading regulations and so on. If we do make a bid we will have to watch our step.”

  “What do you mean, you would swear he already knew?” Dorothy demanded. Are you suggesting one of my staff leaked the information?”

  “Of course not Dorothy,” Dermot said sounding as if that was the last thing that would occur to him.

  “Without evidence you should be careful Dermot,” Peter added.

  “We took great precautions,” Dorothy continued, “only the Board got initialled copies of the O’Donoghue proposals.”

  There was a movement of the board members as they fished out their copies of the report, noticing for the first time their initials discretely placed on the back of each sheet.

  “Where is yours Peter?” Dorothy demanded, noticing that he did not have the report out in front of him.

  “Read and shredded,” Peter replied nonchalantly. Dorothy glowered at him.

  “Come on, back to the topic,” Peter admonished. “What do you think John? We have to deal with this?”

  “Well, like you all I am astounded,” John replied. “I agree that Colm O’Donoghue is too old. This proposal would result in a large increase and diversification of his business. With O’Donoghue Senior in the Chair the banks and investment houses would be dubious about the longer-term investment. Though that said the position of chairman is not as critical as Managing Director.”

  “Don’t underestimate,” Dermot corrected. “They run their business out of an old Garage, granted. But that’s just a historical connection because O’Donoghue is semi-retired. Their haulage set up down on the Docks is very sophisticated. They have state of the art modern computer systems. He employs young vigorous managers. Has a good team. This is why we use them for our haulage, they are very good.”

  “Is there an obvious successor to O’Donoghue?” John asked.

  “No,” Dermot admitted. “I expect that if he dropped dead the banks and other outsider shareholders would want to put in new top management. He has a grandson, about eighteen tears of age. Too young yet, but he will inherit, he is the only child.”

  “So we can laugh off this stupid offer, “ Michael said sounding unsure. The board smiled.

  “That old codger knows something. I’d swear he knew and was marking our card in an indirect way,” Dermot suggested.

  “What message was he sending?” Michael asked.

  “Millions of pounds, I suggest,” John offered.

  “I agree,” Dermot said

  “What?” Dorothy asked.

  “If he knows we are after him he won’t be trapped Dorothy,” John explained. “We discussed how we might attach his cash flow through his business with us and how to get to his backers. However if he is on to us he can have time to find a white knight or a poison pill to foul us up. Don’t forget he has sixty percent of the shares. That makes him un-attackable through normal channels. I said millions because if we want to go for him now we would have to offer him more than the market capitalization, which we put, I think at forty million.”

  “What might he look for?” Michael asked.

  John scratched his chin and looked at Dorothy.

  “He is capitalized at about five times earnings on the market.” Dorothy said, “In a bid situation that could double. He could cost us eighty million.”

  “Then we are not interested,” Michael said flatly.

  “Not at that price,” Dorothy confirmed.

  “So we leave him?” Michael sounded relieved.

  “We need to give it some more thought before we close down on the idea.”

  “Any comments, opinions first, suggestions second,” Michael asked the Board.

  “We should find a way to screw him,” Peter offered.

  “Is he interested, really interested Dermot?” John asked, “What is he up to. We must not lose sight of the fact that he is really worth getting as far as we are concerned, an easy ride to a market quote. Remember we were always going to have to talk to him because of the size of his shareholding. So what if he is on to something. That is either fact or not. Is he talkable to?”

  “I think so,” Dermot said after a moment.

  “Tell us how your see it Dermot?” Michael suggested.

  “The way I see it is this,” Dermot continued. “I think Colm O’Donoghue is worried. Worried because he is not getting any younger. He wants to set up things for his grandson.”

  “Where can we come in?” John prompted.

  “I think he will talk merger if the price is right. This would have to cover some guarantees for his boy.”

  “What do you think Dorothy?” Michael asked.

  “Well dad, if you sold our business now, maybe you could make a hundred million, that is five times profits. But get a stock exchange quote and get a growth rating and with our growth curve the value could go up to a two hundred million.”

  “It is a big prize,” John supported. “O’Donoghue via Howlett Holdings is a good road way in.”

  “Yes,” Dorothy continued an excited gleam in her eye. “If we can pay O’Donoghue in shares it would cost us no cash and he would have to wait for a capital gain as we grow the business.”

  “We should go for it,” John urged. “I’m worried about the vulnerability of our cash flow. We are very stretched. It would be a great comfort to know we could go to the stock market for finance if we had to.”

  “You know I am planning to move abroad soon,” Michael said smiling.

  “Taxes,” Dermot said sympathetically.

  “Well I thought I might hold a weekend entertainment at home soon. A start to the farewells. Why don’t we invite O’Donoghue and his Grandson down for a weekend, get to know them?”

  “A sound idea Michael. Let us start a courtship. I’ll tell O’Donoghue we that we can start some informal talks,” Dermot said agreeably.

  “Invite him down,” Michael repeated, warming to the idea. “And make it friendly. Then we can talk merger.”

  “Good idea,” Dorothy agreed. “If we can pull this off we would be on the pigs back. But we must be careful not to pay too much. It could cost us millions more than we planned if we are not careful.”

  “Dermot, you set it up,” Michael instructed. “ Let me know what weekend suits O’Donoghue.”

  Dermot nodded and made a note.

  “Any other business?” Michael asked.

  “Just to say we have had confirmation for massive orders from the Associated Finance Group, AF for short,” Peter announced confidently.

  “Excellent work Peter, You have made a killing there.”

  The board murmured its approval, even Dorothy.

  “I presume all supply arrangements are in hand?” Peter asked Dermot imperiously

  “Yes, relax Peter. All commitments are in place. I will have a detailed report for the board next week.”

  “Brief me before then,” Peter said shortly

  “No problem,” Dermot agreed, a little disturbed by Peters lack of respect.

  “Meeting adjourned,” Michael announced looking at his watch and they all broke up and went back to their respective offices.

  Chapter twenty

  Peter slipped carefully out the back way. In five minute
s he was in his barbers getting a hair cut and discussing the latest Manchester United match.

  She was waiting for him in the main bar in Jury’s Hotel. Janet had worn a simple white cotton frock for the date. Her beauty caught the eye of every man and woman in the bar.

  “I cannot stay long,” Janet said to Peter. “I am expecting a call from London. I have to return to my flat soon.”

  “Can I come?” Peter asked overanxiously. He could not quite come to terms with Janet’s sophistication, it made him nervous.

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” Janet threw at him with a laugh, softened by the friendly look. He felt squashed.

  Peter began to try to impress her. “Confirmed with O’Rourke, all on course for those extra orders,” he said crisply, businesslike.

  “When will you start shipping?”

  “In a month in line with the order pattern.”

  “I have not looked at the quality aspects of your distribution yet,” Janet added to sound equally brisk.

  “Mainly contracted in. Largest hauler is O’Donoghue Transport. That is, if we decide to stay with them.”

  Janet felt her antennae come up. What was he saying?

  “Trouble?” she asked.

  “No, no, don’t concern yourself. We constantly review our suppliers.”

  Janet let it go. But she came back to it. Half an hour later Peter was confiding in her in whispers.

  “Joke of the day. Howlett Holdings are a UK quoted company. A small company by UK standards but controlled and owned by O’Donoghue, it has had a Stock Exchange Quotation for reasons lost in history. The joke is they are interested in taking us over.”

  Janet tensed, but smiled to share the joke.

  “Part of my enquiry covered corporate ownership and I was surprised to find that your father only holds seventy percent of the company, with the balance held by a trust fund?” she asked.

  “No problem there,” Peter explained, “my Grandfather left ten percent of the company to each of the grandchildren, that is myself, Dorothy and Ann-Marie, in trust. It falls due when Ann-Marie is twenty-one and we all get the shares. Don’t think it is some outside agency, it is all still family and Dad, my father Michael is the trustee of the fund.”

  Janet looked at Peter with new eyes. Peter could be worth ten or more million, depending on the valuation put on O’Byrne’s.

  Janet listened and laughed in all the right places. Peter felt he was clever and admired. Janet listened and extracted every last detail.

  “I’m expecting a phone call. I have to get back.”

  It was as much as Peter could manage to get her to promise another date.

  “Yes, please ring me. I’d love to meet you again Peter. But let’s not be too serious. Remember I won’t be staying too long in these parts. When I have completed my role here it will be back to London for me.”

  And then she was gone.

  Peter was left in the bar to finish his pint, depressed. He had not even got a kiss. Peter felt highly anxious. He could not quiet come to terms with Janet’s sophistication. It made him nervous and simultaneously excited and attracted. He considered her parting remark, it had not occurred to him that she might vanish off to London. He found himself missing her even though she was just across the road in her flat. He ordered another drink.

  ****

  Back in her apartment Janet put a call through to Crawford. The Howlett Holdings proposal might seem to Peter to be a bit of a laugh, but it sounded more to her. More like a poison pill, which could sour her deal. It was time to act.

  When Janet put down the phone she felt uneasy. Crawford had understood her concerns. He had agreed that the next phase of the plan would have to move up into action. By now O’Byrne’s would have extended their credit lines and made firm commitments as necessary to meet the AF orders and should be vulnerable. Crawford congratulated her and rang off, saying he would come to Dublin within the next two weeks. It was clear he was looking forward to meeting her again.

  It was Janet’s habit to analyze her feelings and not ignore them. It helped her to think clearly.

  It was Peter, she decided. She felt uneasy about using him. It was the way he would look at her. She wondered if he affected other women in the same way. He had sexuality, an enjoyment of women plus a needy anxiety. He was something a good woman, a clever woman, could mould and make a lot of. And added to that, apparently with the shares in trust, he was wealthy.

  The buzzer on the door interrupted her thoughts. She finished pouring the boiling water into the coffee she was making. The buzzer went again. She walked over and pressed the intercom.

  “Who is it?”

  “Peter.”

  “Peter?” Janet felt warmth and added crossly, “I thought you had gone back to work?”

  “Work,” Peter said, his anxiety coming through on the intercom, “I can’t work, all I can think of is you.”

  Janet felt herself redden, blush, something she was not accustomed to.

  “Come up,” she decided, not knowing why she felt an excitement at the prospect. Funny how he had arrived just as she was thinking of him.

  Peter came in with a big apologetic smile, took her by the elbows and kissed her.

  Janet had to pull herself together and avoided dropping her cup of coffee.

  “Peter. Behave!” she insisted.

  Suddenly Peter’s courage failed. He looked deep into her eyes, still softly holding her elbows.

  “Careful of the coffee” she said, more gently, extricating herself from his hands. “Would you like a cup?”

  “Please.”

  “Then come in and sit down.”

  Peter stood awkwardly, taking in the details of the flat. He had been delighted to find her name on the buzzers in the hall. He followed Janet from the small hallway of the flat into the living area and Janet indicated to the settee, while she went into the kitchen area and poured him a cup from the remainder of the coffee. Peter noticed the potted plants, the small balcony and the door to the left that, he presumed rightly, led to the bedroom.

  “Nice flat,” he said as Janet handed him the cup of coffee and he felt some of his composure return.

  “Small, but well appointed, they come furnished,” Janet said agreeably.

  “Do sit,” she added with a smile.

  Peter took the larger of the settees and Janet sat opposite him.

  “Did you make your phone call?” he asked, to fill the silence.

  “Yes.”

  Janet could feel some electricity in the air. She knew something was about to happen. She felt that Peter was about to break through her defences and become, not a means to her target, but something else. There was sexual tension in the room and Janet could read what was coming. He was going to make a serious pass at her. To her surprise, this excited her and she waited, giving him time, curious to see what he would do next.

  She had had this feeling before, as a prelude to previous romances. It made her uneasy. Peter was supposed to be her victim, someone she was soon to betray. She stood up and fetched the sugar and milk. This time she sat back down beside him, an arms length away.

  “Did you do that drawing?” Peter asked, indicating to a small red drawing of the wall near the window.

  “Yes, I went to art classes.”

  “I like the bright colours. What is it?”

  “Something Vaginal.”

  “Oh?”

  “It’s a wood painting.”

  “I see,” Peter said, but he didn’t.

  Amused at his puzzlement, Janet passed him the milk.

  “Thanks,” he said.

  He sipped.

  She sipped.

  Their eyes met.

  She asked if he’d care for a biscuit.

  He declined.

  Silence again. Janet put down her coffee and so did he. She sat back and they both looked out across the balcony at the sky outside. As Janet reached forward to pick up her coffee, almost simultaneously Peter put his hand down on t
he coffee table. They bumped hands. Peter took her hand and their eyes met again. Peter was confused, he felt like a man and he felt like a schoolboy all at the same time. He wondered if she could detect what he felt must be a slight tremble in his hand. His feelings rushed in and took over.

  “Janet?”

  “Yes Peter?”

  “I’ve fallen for you.”

  “How do you know Peter?”

  “I know. God knows I have had enough experience to recognize the real thing.”

  “The real thing?”

  “Yes, you know what I mean.”

  “Tell me?”

  “Janet, you are a class act. You are very beautiful, and very bright and intelligent. Much cleverer than I am, I suspect. I…I really admire brains in a beautiful woman.”

  “You are not so bad yourself,” Janet said with a laugh. Peter was making her nervous with his seriousness.

  Peter did what he knew best. He ran his hand along the side of her neck and gently but firmly drew her mouth to his. They kissed, long and soft and exploring.

  Peter took charge as they played, like children in a new game, leading and following, teasing and being teased. Peter was in his comfort zone, doing what he could do best. Janet responded, moving from amusement to something else, to a place where feelings she had long submerged began to surface.

  Then the dam burst and they were struggling to take each other’s clothes off.

  They celebrated each other’s bodies, both young fit and vigorous.

  Afterwards they showered together and Janet lent Peter a spare robe.

  Janet took a bottle of white wine and some cheese from the fridge. She was in shock. Peter had been so dammed good in bed. At least he was good at something, very good.