Inherit the Skies (75 page)

As he spoke he saw the high spots of colour in her cheeks deepen and saw too the look of wary indecision in her eyes. ‘Well?' he said.

What do I do? Kirsty was thinking. Clearly I am not going to be able to see Guy alone – if I am going to do anything to help Granny I have to find another line of attack. And David seemed very nice – totally unlike his father. Whereas Guy only made her want to squirm there was something about David which inspired trust. It was unlikely of course that he knew what was going on and if he did he was probably too young and inexperienced in the ways of business to be able to do anything to help even if he wanted to. But it would be good to have an ally or simply someone to talk to, someone of more or less her own age, someone who might just conceivably understand … Kirsty drew a deep breath.

‘Have you ever heard of Leo de Vere?' she asked.

Dinner in the restaurant at the Grand Spa Hotel was almost over. Some latecomers were still eating but the music wafting in from the ballroom indicated the lateness of the hour and at their table in a secluded alcove David and Guy, his father, lingered over their coffee and brandies. Alicia had dined with them but now she had excused herself, pleading tiredness, and they were alone.

‘Well, David, do you have any plans for your Saturday evening?' Guy asked drawing on a panatella cigar. ‘If you do I shall quite understand.' His tone was smooth and it crossed David's mind to wonder if his father had any plans of his own. But he dismissed the thought. This was the moment he had been waiting for – the opportunity to discuss the matters that had been bothering him ever since his talk this afternoon with Kirsty.

‘No, I've no plans,' he said. ‘I haven't been in Bristol long enough yet to make any friends.'

‘Hmm. We shall have to do something about that. A pretty girl, David, would do you the world of good. There is nothing like a pretty girl for putting hair on your chest, though I dare say you don't need me to tell you that. And Bristol is full of pretty girls, one way and another, if you go out and look for 'em.'

And sometimes when you don't, David thought with a smile. Aloud he said: ‘I'm in no hurry, Dad.'

‘Let's have another brandy then.' Guy signalled to a passing waitress.

‘Not for me, thanks, Dad.'

‘Yes – have another, my boy. Don't want girls, don't want brandy – what the hell sort of son have I raised? I thought at least Australia would have made a man of you. Two brandies, please – doubles,' he instructed the waitress who had answered the summons with the alacrity he always commanded.

David felt his cheeks burn with annoyance but he controlled himself. No point antagonising his father – better to keep him in receptive mood. When the brandies arrived he sipped reflectively.

‘I spent the afternoon reading up on the business, Dad,' he said.

‘Good. The more you know the better placed you will be to take your rightful place. I have great plans for you, David, when I feel you are ready for the responsibility.'

‘In that case perhaps you could enlighten me on one or two things I don't understand.'

‘Of course. Fire away.'

David set down his brandy balloon. Soft reflections of the muted overhead lights danced in the amber liquid.

‘Why are you planning to merge with de Vere Motors?'

If David had struck him the older man could hardly have been more surprised. He almost choked on the smoke of his cigar.

‘What sort of a question is that?'

‘A very simple one. The company is in good shape, isn't it? So why are you planning to sacrifice our autonomy?'

Guy's paunchy face gave nothing away but his eyes blazed furiously.

‘Have you been talking to your grandmother?'

‘As a matter of fact, no. But I am right, aren't I? Merger is on the cards?'

For a moment Guy said nothing, merely drew harder on his cigar. He seemed to be debating with himself. Then he wafted away the haze of smoke with a be-ringed hand and nodded.

‘Yes, David, it is true I have been having talks with Leo de Vere.'

‘Why?' David asked directly.

‘Why? Because I think it would be advantageous, of course. What other reason could there be?'

‘In what way advantageous?'

Guy laughed a little derisively.

‘It is quite obvious, David, that you are new to the world of business. Merger would give us control of an empire.'

‘I should have thought we were quite big enough already.'

‘One can never be big enough. Large fish will always gobble up smaller ones, David. In spite of our size we are still a privately owned company. I want to make quite sure we are invincible.'

‘I understand that. What I don't understand is – why Leo de Vere?'

‘Why not? De Vere Motors is a healthy company, most compatible with our own.'

‘The company, maybe. But not its founder. Everyone in the family hates Leo de Vere. The very mention of his name has always been enough to put Grandmother in a foul temper.'

A muscle tightened in Guy's cheek. ‘Your grandmother's prejudices are rooted in the past. They should not be allowed to influence important decisions half a century on. When you meet Leo de Vere, as you soon will, you will discover him to be a most charming fellow and an excellent businessman. I have had dealings with him for some time now and I assure you we are on the best of terms.'

David sipped his brandy and tried a different approach.

‘Is this business the reason Grandmother is in Bristol?'

‘Yes, it is. I expect the whole matter to be sorted out at the board meeting this coming Wednesday but that damned trouble maker Sarah is against the idea and decided to go running to your grandmother to try and throw a spanner in the works. She is a menace – more of a threat to our continued stability than Leo de Vere could ever be. It's time she retired and left the running of the company to those of us who understand progress.'

David said nothing. This was hardly the moment to mention the high esteem in which Sarah Bailey was held by everyone he had talked to – in Australia she was regarded almost as a candidate for canonisation by the management – but he knew to say so would antagonise Guy.

‘So what has Grandmother to say about the proposed merger?' he asked after a moment.

Guy ground out his cigar. ‘As you so rightly say she has a blinkered dislike of Leo de Vere and at first she was cautious of merger. But I have talked to her and I believe she is coming to see the sense of what I propose. In any case she is an old woman now and has had nothing to do with the running of the company for the past forty years. I have her proxy vote and I am quite confident she will allow me to use it as I think fit. In her heart she knows that ancient rivalries have no place in the running of a modern business, and I am sure when you have had time to give the matter some thought you will realise I am right. One day you will head Morse Bailey. I am grooming you to that end and I want to ensure that you inherit a healthy company, not an atrophied dinosaur. So let us hear no more talk of old enmities. Your future depends on what I am doing.'

David was silent. Seeing his thoughtful expression Guy moved impatiently.

‘Shall we go? I have a good bottle of port and plenty of brandy at home.'

David hesitated. ‘I think if you don't mind I will do as you suggested and go in search of a little night life.'

Guy laughed, somewhat relieved. He had found the conversation with his son heavier going than he had anticipated.

‘Good. That sounds more like it.' He slapped David's shoulders in a gesture of bonhomie and was surprised to realise that almost unnoticed the boy had grown into a man, taller than he was by some two inches. ‘You'll ease into the business gradually, David. In the meantime take the opportunity to have some fun. I'll see you in the morning.'

‘Yes, Dad,' David said and knew his father had no idea of what was in his mind.

For almost an hour David drove his Mercedes sports around the streets of Bristol, avoiding an accident through sheer instinct, for he was totally preoccupied with his thoughts.

He wished he could have gone to his grandmother's room and talked with her but he knew she would be asleep by now, drugged by her sleeping tablets, and in any case he was not sure what he would have said to her.

Everything his father had said was so plausible – the need to keep the business alive and expanding, the fact that old enmities should not be allowed to live on to the detriment of development, even the unpalatable statement that Alicia was now an old woman who should leave important decisions to the younger generation. He knew that his father had held the reins of power for a good many years now and under his guardianship the company had flourished – who was he, a mere novice, to question what he proposed now? And he was flattered that he should be considered a worthy heir to the empire even if Guy's decision did smack heavily of nepotism.

But nevertheless he was disturbed by a gut feeling that something was wrong here. There was more to the so-called ‘merger' than Guy had admitted, he was certain of it. Sarah had been to see his grandmother – a visit that in itself must have been a move born of desperation – and as a result his grandmother had been sufficiently concerned to have left London and flown with him to Bristol. Perhaps his father was right and Sarah was nothing but a troublemaker but somehow he did not think so. There was no love lost between her and his grandmother and never had been, it was true, but since they had both been married to the same man that was hardly surprising. It did not make Sarah a monster, far from it. She had the respect and affection of the entire workforce whilst the things he had heard of Leo de Vere had been less flattering. And it was impossible for him to reconcile the image of a ruthless opportunist with a woman who could inspire such love and loyalty in a granddaughter – who could actually
be
the grandmother of a girl like Kirsty if it came to that.

He swung the car into a vacant space at the kerb thinking of the girl who had come to see his father this afternoon and ended up pouring her heart out to him. Perhaps he should not allow himself to be swayed by appearances, he thought, but in his short life he had come to trust his own judgement and without doubt first impressions almost always turned out to be correct. Kirsty was not only pretty, though she was certainly that, there was an innate honesty about her that was impossible to deny.

‘Granny told me a long time ago that Leo de Vere vowed that one day Morse Bailey would be his and it looks as though he is going to get his way,' she said and there had been nothing melodramatic or vindictive in the way she had said it. She had simply been stating facts as she knew them and he suddenly knew that he would prefer to believe her rather than his father.

The knowledge was disconcerting – to distrust his own father went against the grain, against everything he respected and held dear. Yet he knew that in the past there had been occasions when he had come close to thinking the same way about other things – the wreck of his parents' marriage, for one thing. His mother had never tried to turn him against his father, on the contrary it was his father who had squirmed and blustered and made excuses and as David had grown older he had formed his own opinion as to what had gone wrong – an opinion that was not wholly complimentary to his father. Now, however, faced with the possibility that Guy meant to betray what was almost a sacred trust, he found himself torn between filial loyalty and his own high standards, a painful and destructive conflict.

After a moment he started the car again, driving without any real idea of where he was going, and it was almost a shock to him when he realised he was in the street where Kirsty had her flat. He had driven her home this afternoon after their talk and she had pointed out her window to him; now he looked up and saw that a light was still burning.

Christ, he wished he could talk to her again! It was too late, of course, much too late – past eleven – and yet … An inner compulsion seemed to take hold of him. She had come visiting unannounced this afternoon – he would return her visit. Before he could change his mind he parked the car, went to the house and pushed the bell marked ‘Rowlands'.

In the few moments he had to wait for her to answer he almost changed his mind. Then just as he was about to turn away the intercom crackled and he heard her voice, distorted but sweet and just a little nervous.

‘Hello?'

‘It's me – David,' he said, feeling foolish. ‘ Can I talk to you?'

‘David?'

‘David Bailey. I know it's late but …'

‘I'll open the door,' she said.

He heard the lock click and when he pushed it the door swung open. He found himself in a bare hall and started up a flight of stairs. On the first floor a sliver of light showed beneath one of the doors. As he went towards it it opened a crack and he heard her say: ‘David – is that you?'

‘Yes.'

She opened the door fully. She was wearing a towelling robe now, floor length, and her face, devoid of make-up, was a little flushed. Tendrils of damp hair clung to her neck as if she had just got out of the bath and he noticed that she had scooped most of it up into a pony tail so that she looked ridiculously like the little girl he had once known – almost but not quite for now she was not a little girl but a beautiful young woman. His throat constricted; for a moment he almost forgot why he was here. Then she said: ‘Come in, David. What has happened?' and he recovered himself.

‘Nothing really. I just wanted to talk. I'm sorry it's so late.'

She gave a small impatient shake of her head and the pony tail swung enticingly.

‘It's all right. It's quite early really. I shan't be going to bed for hours and if I did I don't believe I'd sleep. I'm too worried about all this. Do come in so that I can close the door. I know it's silly to be nervous but there was a Peeping Tom round here not so long ago and I'm on my own tonight. Martha, my flatmate, is out with her boyfriend and likely to be very late – if she comes home at all.'