Inherit the Skies (76 page)

He followed her into the living-room, all cushions and comfortable clutter, flattered and yet at the same time ridiculously slightly offended that she should feel he posed no threat.

The television was on full blast – a chat show. She went over and turned it off, cleared a sketch pad and a pile of reference books off the low chintz-covered sofa and indicated that he should sit down.

‘My turn to offer you coffee,' she said. ‘Or would you prefer cocoa?'

He smiled. He did not think anyone had offered him cocoa since he was a child. It sounded rather nice.

‘Why not cocoa?' he said.

She disappeared into the kitchenette.

‘No point asking you to join me,' she called as she clattered pans. ‘There's simply not room for two people out here. I won't be a sec.'

‘I'm fine,' he called back, glancing at her sketch pad – evidently some kind of design for an advertising poster that she was working on. The lines were clear, the message bold. She was good, he thought, and called out: ‘We could use some of your designs in the company, you know. They are every bit as good as the agency we used in Melbourne.'

‘Do you think so?' she asked, reappearing with two mugs of cocoa and a packet of biscuits on a tray. She looked pleased.

‘I do indeed. You have a great future.'

‘Tell my tutor that!' she said ruefully. ‘I've only been getting 2.2s and 3s this term and I do so want to get a good degree.'

‘Either they are trying to spur you on to even greater heights or they don't know what they are looking at.' He grinned. ‘They're probably all high on pot.'

‘Don't talk about my tutors like that!' She smiled back. ‘You establishment types think all artists are the same.'

‘Ah, but I haven't always been establishment. You might be surprised if you knew some of the things I've done.'

‘Go on then – surprise me!'

He shook his head. ‘ Not tonight. I'll save that for another time.'

‘You weren't an artist too?'

‘No. Why do you ask?'

‘Because it's in the family, isn't it? Uncle James was an artist – you remember Uncle James …?' She broke off. He was looking at her with a faintly puzzled expression and she realised what she had said. ‘Ah! I'm sorry, David. My tongue does run away with me sometimes.'

‘I don't quite follow you,' he said.

‘No, I can see that you don't. You are wondering why I should allude to your Uncle James in the same breath as my flair for art. I suppose that means you don't know.'

‘Know what?'

She sighed, spooning sugar into her cocoa.

‘I've rather put my foot in it, haven't I?'

‘For goodness' sake, Kirsty!' he said, a little shortly. ‘Do tell me what it is I don't know.'

‘All right.' She looked at him squarely. ‘ I don't suppose your grandmother will be very pleased with me though. She does like her secrets.'

‘What secret?'

‘That she and my grandmother are half-sisters.' Her tone was matter-of-fact now. ‘Gilbert Morse was Sarah's father too. She was illegitimate, of course.'

He sat silently for a moment digesting the information. Of course. Why had it never occurred to him? It explained everything – the rivalry, the jealousy, the reason why Sarah had equal shares with Alicia. Yet somehow he had never thought of it for himself. Sarah – Alicia's half-sister. Born on the wrong side of the blanket, as they used to say. His grandfather must have been quite a man.

He shook his head slightly. ‘Well, well. I must be pretty dim not to have thought of that myself. But no-one has ever said anything – not grandmother, not Dad …'

‘I'm not sure how many people know,' Kirsty admitted, ‘though I should imagine there was a certain amount of speculation at the time. Granny told me, but then it's different for your grandmother, isn't it? She probably wouldn't want to advertise the fact.'

‘Probably not. Though in this day and age I don't suppose anyone could care less.' He sipped his cocoa. It tasted good – hot and sweet, a taste evocative of cosy childhood days. He wished there was no need to bring up the subject that was on both their minds. It would have been so pleasant to treat this as a social visit to an attractive girl. But there was no avoiding it any longer.

‘I talked to my father,' he said.

Her fingers gripped her cocoa mug more tightly, ‘And?'

‘Everything you said is true. Except that he puts a different interpretation on it, of course. That it is for the good of the business and so on.' He could not bring himself to mention that his father had also said it was for the good of his own future.

‘The good of the business! Ha! Leo de Vere does nothing except for the good of Leo de Vere.'

‘Dad thinks he's built up to be an ogre because of things which happened a long time ago – things that should be forgotten.'

‘There are some things it is impossible to forget.' Her lips tightened, eyes narrowing, and something in her expression disturbed him. There was something else she knew that he did not, just as she had known about the relationship between their grandmothers, something from the past which cast this long dark shadow across the years.

‘What did he do?' he asked. ‘ Why do Alicia and Sarah hate him so?'

‘You don't know?'

He shook his head. Her eyes came up to meet his, clear honest eyes. ‘They believe he was responsible for the death of Gilbert Morse.'

‘Responsible for his death? But he was killed in a flying accident wasn't he?'

‘They don't believe it was an accident. They believe he tampered with the aeroplane in some way.'

David looked incredulous. ‘That's a bit far-fetched, isn't it? Why should he do something like that – assuming he could.'

‘He always wanted control of the business, even then. I don't think they believe he set out to kill Gilbert. It was Sarah he wanted to get rid of. She was Gilbert's protégée and getting too much power for his liking – taking over the position he believed to be rightfully his after Lawrence died and Hugh was killed. And you see it should have been Sarah in the aeroplane that day, flying the first leg of the record-making journey they were attempting to South Africa. As for the how – he was seen the night before, snooping around the sheds – just as he had been on a previous occasion when something went wrong with an aeroplane Sarah was learning to fly in. Oh, I know nowadays it sounds an impossibility but things were different then, far more primitive. A nut loosened here, a bolt removed there – I don't know. No-one really does – the aircraft was totally destroyed. But there was very real suspicion directed at Leo. He was told to get out and never come back, and as he did everything was hushed up. But you see that is why they will never forgive him.'

David sat silent, stunned by the story.

‘It wasn't just Alicia and Sarah who disliked Leo either,' Kirsty went on, anxious that he should not think she was over-dramatising some unlikely plot. ‘ Gilbert couldn't have trusted him either because when his will was read Leo was not mentioned. It was then he vowed he would one day control Morse Bailey. It seemed impossible at the time, Granny said, and certainly it has taken him a lifetime to reach the position from which he can attempt it. But now he's done it, hasn't he? Somehow he has wormed his way into your father's confidence, used his wiles to make the deal sound attractive enough, and there it is,
fait accompli
after all these years. We can't allow it to happen, David. We can't allow the family firm –
our
family firm – to fall into the hands of a man like that.'

David set down his cocoa mug. The feeling of well-being had gone now, totally destroyed by what Kirsty had said. He could not believe his father had not known the story – he would certainly have heard it from Alicia. So how could he disregard it and dismiss the ill feeling so lightly as ‘old enmities', trivial as some children's quarrel? Presumably because there was enough in the deal for him to enable him to overlook Leo's treachery. Enough for him – and for David. But David wanted no part of this. A position of authority in the company might be something he would be prepared to accept – if he had worked for it and earned it. He could never take it if it were the prize for a dishonourable ploy, his principles were much too high for that – too high for the world of business altogether, he had sometimes thought and certainly too high to betray the memory of the man who had founded their empire, his great-grandfather, Gilbert Morse.

There was only one thing for it – much as he loathed the idea he would have to work against his father and do what he could to prevent the merger going through. Guy would be furious – worse, he would consider him a fool, for by doing so he would be turning his back on a joint fortune that could make him rich and powerful beyond his wildest dreams. But so be it. There was enough of a hippy still in David to make him contemptuous of too much money, and power for its own sake did not attract him either. Integrity was, he considered, a good deal more important.

‘You agree with me, don't you?' Kirsty asked. She sat forward on the ottoman facing him, arms wound around her knees, small chin jutting with determination. ‘ It would be terrible if Morse Bailey fell into Leo de Vere's hands. But from what Granny says the only person who can stop it is Alicia. And will she? From what you say she was concerned enough to come to Bristol but your father has run her affairs for so long that habit may be too strong. If he pulls the wool over her eyes, convinces her that we are taking over de Vere Motors or something of the sort, then she will very likely allow him the proxy vote just as she always has. Especially if he can convince her that what he is doing is beneficial for her side of the family.'

He nodded, surprised by her perceptiveness.

‘Yes, Dad knows how to get around Grandmother. He has had plenty of practice at it. And from what he said to me tonight he is fairly certain, I think, that he has allayed her fears. He has had too much power for too long, that is the trouble, and he is bolstered up by Leo's own share in the company which he inherited from his mother. I dare say unbeknown to anyone they have been scratching one another's backs for years.' He broke off for a moment, finding the idea distasteful in the light of what he now knew.

‘So what are we going to do?' Kirsty sounded desperate. ‘ If Leo de Vere gets control of Morse Bailey it will kill Granny, I know it will. The company has been her whole life.'

‘There is only one thing to do,' David said. ‘Your grandmother talked to mine without success. Understandable, I suppose, considering the ill feeling between them. Now it is up to me.'

She looked at him steadily, hardly daring to hope.

‘I'll talk to Grandmother. I'm not sure how much influence I have with her but I can only do my best – and the trouble is we haven't long. The all-important meeting is on Wednesday. Dad is wasting no time. I'll see Grandmother tomorrow and try to persuade her to use her votes to keep Morse Bailey independent.' He glanced at his watch and stood up. ‘It's late. I'd better be going.'

She nodded, curiously reluctant to see him leave. Whilst he was here nothing seemed so bad. He crossed to the door and she followed him.

‘Good luck, David.'

He smiled crookedly. ‘ I may need it. Think of me tomorrow.'

‘I will.'

When he had gone she sat for a long while deep in thought. Perhaps it would be all right. For everything her grandmother held dear, it had to be!

For years Mondays had been Grace's afternoon off and it was her custom to leave a cold supper for Sarah ready for when she returned from the office. As usual there was a good selection of cold meats, cheeses and salad, but tonight Sarah had no appetite and as she carried the tray through into her sitting-room she wondered if she would be able to manage more than a mouthful.

Dear God, this business had upset her more than anything had done for years. The thought of the business falling into Leo de Vere's hands was a terrible one, yet she was powerless to do anything about it. The dread had settled into Sarah's stomach like a leaden weight and the sense of utter helplessness fermented in her veins making her unable to rest. Sarah had always hated being helpless. It was totally foreign to her nature to sit back and let fate take its course. But on this occasion there was nothing, absolutely nothing, she could do except wait and pray that perhaps others would be able to open Alicia's eyes to the seriousness of what would happen if she remained with the status quo and allowed Guy to make her decision for her.

Yesterday she had experienced a flash of hope, a little light at the end of the tunnel. Kirsty had telephoned to say she had talked to David, who in turn was going to talk to Alicia. Sarah was not well acquainted with David but Kirsty, whose judgement she trusted implicitiy, had spoken of him in glowing terms and when she had last seen him when he had come to look around the Bristol works on joining the company Sarah had been struck forcibly by how like Gilbert he had grown – a point which had given Sarah an instant affinity with the young man. Perhaps, she thought, he could succeed where she had failed and make Alicia face up to her obligations after all these years. The thought had been something to hold onto but since then she had heard nothing and she was beginning to be doubtful of his success. Moreover, Guy had been as full of himself today as he always was – a sure sign that he felt his position to be secure.

How I dislike the man! she thought. And what a bitter moment it will be to see the triumph in his eyes when he carries the day …

The thought took away what little of her appetite remained and Sarah put the tray down on the low table beside the chair. Grace would probably scold her tomorrow when she discovered the food untouched but Grace's scolding was the least of her worries just now.