Inherit the Skies (73 page)

The ornate anniversary clock, one of the few pieces of Klaus's collection which Alicia had kept, began to chime and Alicia, seated in the wing chair with Ming curled up on her knee, glanced at it. Eleven o'clock. Surely David would be here soon? Of course it was possible that like her he had overslept – and with more reason for he was probably jetlagged after the long flight from Melbourne. But she could not imagine that jetlag would bother a young man of his age unduly, and if he was expected in Bristol today then he should be leaving London fairly soon. He would be flying down in his own light aircraft but even so … Alicia cast her mind back again to his letter, remembering it word for word, for in spite of her age her memory was as good as ever.

‘I tried to telephone you, Grandmother, but you were out – at one of your charity functions, I expect,' David had written. ‘Anyway, I arrive at Heathrow at 10.30 pm provided the flight is not delayed and I shall stay overnight at the Post House. The following day I am expected in Bristol but I shall have a few hours to spare and should like to call on you if it is convenient.'

Alicia's lips curved a little at this. Convenient! Just as if it wouldn't be! She was always ready to see David – he was one of the few people with whom she never felt impatient or irritable – and really his visit today could not have been better timed. David was the one person who might have some idea what his father was up to and whether there was any truth in what Sarah had said. In fact, now that she came to think of it, the very fact that David had been recalled seemed pertinent. Perhaps there
was
something afoot – and Guy wanted David here when things developed.

Alicia's eyes narrowed, the anxiety that had kept her awake half the night closing in again. All very well for her to have taken umbrage and walked out on Sarah – with all the years of hatred to goad her that part had been easy. What was not so easy was to dismiss her allegations. A determined, dangerous woman Sarah might be, Alicia had never known her to make trouble for trouble's sake. In all these years whilst she and Guy had worked side by side on the board Alicia had never so much as set eyes on her. There had been differences before – she had sometimes heard of them second hand – but never had Sarah approached her in this way and although Alicia had tried to tell herself that Sarah had called the meeting for some ulterior motive of her own yet she knew in her heart that this was not the case. Sarah had had a good reason for appealing to her, deep down Alicia knew it, and it was this certainty that had kept her awake through the long hours of the night.

Unthinkable that Guy, her own son, should betray her by selling out to her old enemy Leo de Vere! Unthinkable! Yet why should Sarah invent such a story if there were no truth in it?

Alicia's brows drew together in a fine straight fine and a tiny frown puckered her smooth forehead. Why was it that every encounter she had ever had with Sarah had proved to be so upsetting? Whenever she put in an appearance trauma followed – it had always been so and it seemed it always would. But this latest was more than mere emotional stress. It rattled not only at the foundations of her own personal world but at those of the company. And the company, like the great living beast it was, must be protected.

The doorbell jangled, the sound carrying clearly up the stairs to the sitting-room, and Alicia brightened, listening eagerly for the sound of her grandson's voice. At her wrists and temples her pulses had begun to race and she realised how afraid she had been that something might have occurred to prevent him coming. Ridiculous! she thought with that hint of self-deprecation that had always leavened her character. Ridiculous to set so much store by one little visit. But then at her age the pleasures left to her were fewer than they had once been and most of the visitors who came to her sitting-room now were elderly ladies like herself but without any of her wealth of experiences to make them interesting. Alicia had joined their ranks gracefully but her outward appearance of gentlewomanly respectability hid a spirit as free as it had ever been and a yearning for just a little excitement in what was now an uneventful life. David was young and vigorous – the prospect of an hour of his company cheered her as it offered a vicarious window on his world.

When she heard the footsteps on the stairs she put Ming down so as to go and greet him but in telling Irene he would see himself up then taking the stairs two at a time he was too quick for her. As she rose from her chair he appeared in the doorway and the fast beating pulse arrested for a moment.

‘David!' she said warmly and thought: my God; how like Father he is! for indeed it might almost have been a young Gilbert standing there in the doorway.

The resemblance had always been there, of course, undeniable even when he was a child, but it had been masked somewhat during what Alicia referred to as his ‘hippy phase'. Now however with the return to conventionality the likeness was almost uncanny in spite of the casual sweater and denims, and the once flowing locks, trimmed to a neat and almost Edwardian style, actually heightened the illusion.

‘Grandmother!' He came towards her, almost sweeping her off her feet with a great hug and the happiness welled in her once again. Nobody but David had hugged her for years. Certainly not Guy, his father, who kissed her politely and dutifully but with a slight impatience that told her he had many other things on his mind, all ranking far higher than her in importance.

When he released her she took his hands, holding him there for a moment.

‘David, it is so good to see you! And just look at you! You seem to have grown even taller – or perhaps it is me shrinking. That happens to old people, you know.'

‘Old? You?' He laughed.

‘I am over seventy,' she reminded him.

‘But certainly not
old
. And not shrunken, either.'

‘If you say so,' she conceded, pleased. ‘Now, Irene will be bringing us coffee at any moment so let's sit down, shall we? I want to know all about Australia. What did you think of it?'

‘It's a wonderful country.' He waited until she sat down then settled his long frame into the matching wing chair opposite. ‘The works is in Victoria, of course, but I managed to fit in a spot of travelling whilst I was there. I had a couple of weeks up in Queensland, enjoying the surf beaches and exploring the Great Barrier Reef and I got over to Sydney for a couple of trips. Oh – and the Red Centre, of course. I couldn't spend a year in Oz and not go to the Red Centre.'

‘The Red Centre?' Alicia raised one eyebrow questioningly.

‘The outback, Grandmother. Real desert outback where it never rains. Midway between Darwin and Melbourne and several days' drive from either. I never did get time to do everything I wanted to, of course. I'd have loved to spend a couple of weeks in a camper van exploring the Territory and I never managed to get out west, to Perth, and it's reputed to be beautiful over there. But primarily I was working so I was lucky to get about as much as I did, I guess.'

‘And how is Morse Bailey Australian Division?' Alicia asked.

‘Alive and well. It certainly managed to keep me busy. And I learned quite a lot.'

‘Such as?'

‘Such as you have to let your blokes go in time for them to grab a few beers in the pub before they go home.'

‘David!'

‘True. Closing time is six o'clock so if they didn't make a dash for it they'd be too late. The six o'clock swill, they call it.'

‘Disgusting – and I hardly think relevant to the running of an international company.'

‘Wrong, Grandmother. It's very important indeed. You have to keep the workforce happy or you'd never get anything done.' He grinned, a young and mischievous version of Gilbert's smile. Alicia's heart turned over. ‘Here's the coffee,' he said.

‘Oh yes. Thank you, Irene. Put it down there.' Alicia indicated the low table that stood between them.

‘Shall I pour, Madam?'

‘No, thank you. We'll do it ourselves.' Alicia felt jealous of every second with her grandson. As Irene withdrew she leaned forward to set out the cups, smiling at him.

‘And now you have come back to put all you have learned into practice in Bristol,' she said.

‘Yes. Dad thinks it's time I did a stint here. And sorry though I am to leave Australia I suppose he is right. After all I am his son and heir.' He said it unself-consciously, without the slightest suggestion of swagger or even pride. To David it was just a simple fact with which he had lived all his life, much as an heir apparent to the throne does. There were his uncles, of course, Roderick and Miles, but Guy had always treated them as an irrelevance and naturally his assessment had passed without question to his son. He liked Roderick and Miles, but Roderick he saw as a pale inferior to his own father and Miles was, by his own admission, happiest in the testing sheds. Without a doubt it was David who was being groomed for great things, David who would one day head the empire. Unless, of course …

Unless it falls into Leo de Vere's hands, Alicia thought, and was again struck by a feeling close to disbelief. Surely Guy would not deliver the company into the hands of their oldest enemy? Quite simply it was incredible. And yet …

Perhaps Roderick and Miles are getting too big for their boots and threatening David's eventual succession, Alicia thought. Roderick, after all, now had twin sons of his own, even if they were as yet little more than babies, and Miles had recently married a very pretty but very ambitious young actress – a social climber, in Alicia's opinion, and just the sort to cause trouble. Perhaps Leo de Vere had promised what the Morse Bailey board no longer could – or would – eventual autonomy for David. If that was the case then she could scarcely blame Guy.

‘Do you have any idea at all why he chose this moment to bring you back to England, David?' she asked. Her voice was deliberately casual but she was watching his reaction closely and was disappointed by his shrug.

‘Because he thinks a year in Oz is enough, I suppose.'

‘Yes.' She poured the coffee, passed him a cup and tried a different approach. ‘Has your father talked to you about developments in the business?' she asked.

Again his expression was ingenuous. ‘Developments? What developments, Grandmother?'

She hesitated. Clearly he knew nothing. Well, it would be a pity to spoil his visit with fruitless discussion on a subject that was repugnant to her.

‘I really don't know, David,' she admitted. ‘You know I have practically nothing to do with the business these days. Your father manages my interest in it for me. But sometimes I think I should know a little more of what goes on. In fact I was just wondering … you are going to Bristol now, you say? I was just wondering whether I could come with you.'

She saw the surprise in David's face and understood. He knew she almost never went to Bristol. But he did not mention the fact, nor ask what was behind her unexpected decision.

‘Of course, if you don't mind flying in a little plane I'd be delighted,' he said, sipping his coffee, and she thought again: how like his great grandfather he is! So equable, so smoothly in control, so charming, yet somehow leaving one in not the slightest doubt that beneath that charm is undeniable strength. If only Guy had inherited more of those qualities! But somehow most of them had skipped a generation. The pang of regret she experienced made her feel oddly disloyal to her son and when a moment later David asked: ‘Does Dad know you are coming?' she answered quite sharply.

‘No, he doesn't, but I am sure he won't object. I shall not impose on him. I'll have Irene telephone and book me into a hotel. The Grand Spa, perhaps – that is within striking distance of both your father's house and the city, and I adore the views over the Avon Gorge. All in all it makes leaving London that little less painful.'

‘I'm sure there is no need for you to stay in an hotel at all,' David said. ‘Dad has three bedrooms, after all. That's one each.'

Alicia shook her head.

‘No, David, I would much prefer to be independent. Besides, your father has no live-in servants and I don't find the prospect of having to get my own breakfast a very appealing one.'

‘I'll get your breakfast, Grandmother, if that is all that is worrying you.'

‘It is not. You and your father will go off to the works and I shall be left to cope with that dreadful uncouth daily woman of his. I have not forgotten the last time I stayed with your father – she banged around until she had given me a migraine and then attacked me with the vacuum cleaner.'

‘Attacked you?'

‘As good as. She pushed the thing at me as if she expected me to lift my feet up so she could clean underneath them! And she was exceedingly rude when I admonished her. She said she was only employed for three hours and what wasn't done in the time wouldn't be done at all and would Mr Bailey be very pleased to find crumbs under his favourite chair.'

David laughed. ‘Mrs Freeman is all right, Grandmother. Her bark is worse than her bite.'

‘
Mrs
Freeman? You address her as
Mrs
Freeman?' Alicia gave her head a small shake of disapproval. ‘No wonder she is so disrespectful. And as for her bark being worse than her bite – I certainly would not employ anyone who so much as
yapped
!'

‘Then perhaps it is as well you aren't staying in Dad's house. He wouldn't want you upsetting Mrs Freeman. He says he is lucky to have her.' He stretched his long legs, deftly avoiding the priceless Aubusson rug with his brown leather cowboy boots which were, Alicia noted with satisfaction, polished to a high gloss. ‘Of course it's not quite what you were used to in the old days, I suppose.'

‘You could say that,' Alicia returned drily, remembering the army of servants who had run Chewton Leigh when Gilbert and Blanche had been master and mistress, and she and Sarah and the others had been children. There had been no nonsense then such as maids refusing to do more than their hours and certainly no impertinence or insubordination. She wondered briefly how Sarah managed with the servant problem at Chewton Leigh these days and reflected that she did not envy her. When Adam and Sarah had bought the house after it became too much for Blanche alone she had been hurt and angry – Chewton Leigh was after all her home. But when she had left Somerset to live in London she had decided that it had been all for the best. She no longer wanted to live in the country – let Sarah and Adam have Chewton Leigh and all its attendant problems. In the intervening years she had given it scarcely a thought; now when she did she felt nothing but relief that it was Sarah, not she, who had to bully gardeners, chivvy maintenance men and cope with a whole regiment of Mrs Freemans. Poor Sarah! As if it were not enough to have the cares of the business, to have the house to worry about as well …