Silver Wedding (26 page)

Suppose he were to persuade her to have the termination, for everyone’s sake? There were still two weeks in which it would be safe. Perhaps he could persuade her.

But if he couldn’t then he risked a hysterical response. And if she were to go ahead and have the child knowing that he wanted it aborted, then things would be about as bad as they could ever be.

Suppose he were to ask her to go away, to start a new life with a set of glowing references? Joy move away from London? Joy start life afresh with a small baby just to please Frank? It was unthinkable.

Suppose he were to ask her to give the child to him. Suppose that he and Renata were to adopt this baby? The child would inherit the Palazzo millions. Everyone would be pleased. Frank and Renata had done the rounds of the adoption societies, at forty-six he was too old to be an adoptive father. Not a real father as it turned out, but then Nature was never known to be a great supporter of bureaucracy.

But Joy had deliberately decided to have the child because she wanted another human being around her. She would not consider it. Or not now at any rate. Don’t dismiss it utterly. She might, later on in the pregnancy. It was unlikely yet not impossible.

And then it would be adopting his own child. That would be very satisfying. In honesty he would have to tell Renata but they need not tell her family …

Frank stroked the forehead, administered the cups of tea and thought his own thoughts as he consoled Joy East with murmurs and sounds that would never constitute any kind of promise or contract in the unlikely event of their being recalled.

The weeks had passed somehow. The bad behaviour at the Christmas party was hardly commented upon, Frank was as usual congratulated for having as usual averted any little silliness. Joy was back at work head high in the new year, plans and ideas tripping out of her. There were no recurrences of drinking. Also there were no lazy afternoons by her fireside.

They met for a lunch early in the new year, Frank had said in front of several of the managers that the place was lacking in anything new. What it needed in these days after Christmas was some pizzazz. He would take Joy East out to lunch and have a brainstorming session, he said. Women always loved a business lunch, and he wouldn’t mind one himself. They went to the best restaurant where they were bound to be seen.

She sipped her Slimline Tonic and he drained his tomato juice.

‘An expense-account lunch is wasted on us.’ Joy smiled at him.

‘As you told me that time, I’m a drunk’s son, I’m afraid of drink,’ he said.

‘Did I say that? I don’t really remember all the things I said that day. Is that why you don’t come to me in the afternoons?’

‘No it’s not that,’ he said.

‘Well why not? I mean there’s no need for any precautions now, it would be like bolting the stable after the horse had fled … we should get value …’ Her smile was warm and welcoming. Like the old Joy.

‘It might be bad for you, they say it’s not good at this stage of the pregnancy,’ he said.

She smiled, pleased that he was caring. ‘But you could come and talk to me anyway, couldn’t you? I’ve waited a lot of afternoons.’

That was true, she had kept her word about not contacting him. Ever.

‘We do have to talk,’ he said.

‘So, why are we trying to talk in a restaurant where everyone sees us? Those women over there, they’re in-laws of Nico Palazzo. They haven’t had their eyes off us since we came in.’

‘We will be seen in public for the rest of our lives, this is exactly where we must discuss how our lives will continue. If we go to your house we slip into the old ways, we’re back in the days when we only had ourselves to consider.’ His voice was calm. But she seemed to sense his anxiety.

‘You mean you wanted a get-away car and witnesses if I’m going to tell you anything unpalatable. Is that it?’

‘Don’t be silly, Joy.’

‘No I’m not being silly, you’re trying to get out of it, aren’t you? You’re actually scared to death.’

‘That’s not so, and stop smiling that smile that isn’t a real smile. It’s a paper-thin smile you put on for customers and contacts. It’s not genuine.’

‘And what was ever genuine about
your
smile, Frank? Did you not know, your smile never reached your eyes, never. It stopped always around the mouth.’

‘Why are we talking like this?’ he asked.

‘Because you are full of fear, I can smell it,’ she said.

‘What’s turned you against me, did I say anything?’ He spread his hand out in wonder.

‘You don’t need to make those Italian gestures at me, I’m not a Palazzo. What did you say? I’ll tell you what you said, you said we should sit down in a public place and make decisions about the rest of our lives. You forget that I know you, Frank, you forget that you and I know when you meet an adversary the first rule is to meet him on common ground, not your territory or his. You’re doing that. We both know that if there’s a danger of a row the rule is: make sure the meeting is held in a public place. It stops people making scenes.’

‘Are you feeling all right, Joy? Seriously?’

‘It won’t necessarily work, you know, drunk or sober, at home or out I could make a scene if I wanted to.’ She looked mulish.

‘Of course you could, what
is
this? We’re friends you and I, where’s the hostility?’

‘We are not friends, we are fencing with each other, we are playing games, looking for the advantage …’

‘Well then, if that’s all we are, what on earth are we having a child together for?’

‘We’re not having a child together,’ Joy East said, ‘I am having a child.’

There was a look of triumph on her face like he had only seen when she had beaten a rival, won an award or somehow got her way against all the odds.

It was then he knew that she intended him to
dangle
there, forever watching his step, forever in her power. It was her child, and her decision, but only for as long as it suited her. She was never going to promise him either secrecy or involvement. Her plan was that he should never know. That he would be for ever tied to her.

Frank Quigley had come across schemes like this before, the supplier who had bought up the market but hadn’t told you. He would want you to advertise the produce and then suddenly could raise the price because you were committed. Frank had dealt with that one in his time. Someone had tried it on him, but only once. Frank had smiled and said there was no way he was going to pay more than the agreed price for the product. But wouldn’t they look foolish, the man had said, having spent all that money advertising it and then having to admit they didn’t have it? No, not at all. Frank had smiled back with easy charm. They would just take another advertisement apologizing that the suppliers had proved unreliable. Everyone would think well of Palazzo for their honesty, the suppliers would be ruined. It had been so simple. But then it had only involved fruit, it hadn’t involved a child.

He had brought into play every available ounce of charm that he possessed, and limp as a wet rag at the end of the lunch he congratulated himself that they were at least speaking normally on the surface.

They talked about the company. Twice he made
her
laugh, real laughter, head thrown back and pealing with mirth. The two women that she had said were Nico’s in-laws looked over with interest. But there was nothing for them to take home with them as gossip, this was the most innocent lunch in the history of the world. Otherwise it would not have been here and in full view of everyone.

He had told her about his Christmas and then she told him about hers. She had gone to stay with friends in Sussex. In a big family home where she had been before, full of children, she said.

‘Did you tell them?’ he asked. He felt the conversation must not be allowed to wander too far from what they were both thinking about lest he be labelled callous.

‘Tell them what?’ she asked.

‘About the baby?’

‘Whose baby?’

‘Your baby. Our baby if you like but basically, as you said, your baby.’

Joy gave a little purr of satisfaction. It was almost as if she were saying: That’s better. That’s more like it.

‘No,’ she said. ‘I’m not telling anyone until I’ve decided what to do.’

And then there was no more. They spoke as they always had about plans and schemes, and the inadvisability of letting Nico know anything at all that was taking place. The wisdom of Palazzo’s
buying
the new site in that area which was meant to be coming up – Joy was afraid it was coming up too fast. The big houses were changing hands for a lot of money and then even more money needed to be spent on them to make them smart. That kind of people would shop in fancy delicatessens or even go in to Harrod’s, she felt, Palazzo’s would be wiser to aim for somewhere less ambitious, somewhere where you could get a huge car park. That’s the way things were going now.

‘We could even try to make a feature out of the car park,’ Joy had said excitedly. ‘You know how gloomy they look at best, and how they look like places you’re going to be murdered in at worst. Perhaps it could all be brightly painted and there could be a covered terrace around it, a type of cloister effect, we could rent space to market stalls, give the place more life …’

She had been talking in terms of staying on, Frank had noted.

Joy East, if she were planning anything at all, planned to take three months’ maternity leave and return to work once her child was born. Frank was not going to be informed about his role. That was the way she was going to play the game.

He had left that lunch white with fury. Angrier far and determined even more to regain control than he had been before Christmas. He would not be left suspended like this.

If she would not reveal her intentions like any normal person, then he was not going to respond normally.

Two could play a game of cat and mouse.

Long before Joy mentioned her pregnancy to anyone else Frank had made his contingency plan.

Based entirely on Joy’s own projections about the need not to go too far upmarket for their customers, Frank Quigley commissioned surveys.

He had explained to the young men and women in the market-research bureau that they wanted confirmation of their belief that they should expand into less well-off areas. The survey was to be done nationwide but on a very small sample. It was the kind of survey which if Frank had seen cold he would have dismissed on the ground that its findings could not possibly be conclusive. But this time he wanted to let the board see from an outside agency that the way forward was to expand, and to leave North London far behind. To open up on a trial basis in the Midlands, in the North of England even. The key to it would be design and image. Palazzo was to be presented as stylish and desirable. Joy East was the one to create that image.

It would be promotion, it would be a seat on the board for Joy. He would see her once a month at board meetings, true, but he would not see her every day.

And she would not see his father-in-law every day.

And she would not be in danger of meeting his wife.

He had few weapons, he had to outwit her by cunning.

She had to think that the promotion, the move and the change were against his wishes.

The survey which Carlo Palazzo fondly believed he had commissioned himself was complete by March when Joy East broke her news with maximum drama. She announced it under the heading of Any Other Business at the weekly management meeting.

Her eyes had been suspiciously bright. Frank knew what was coming.

‘Well I suppose this
is
other business in a way, I bring it up in case you should hear it elsewhere and wonder why I had said nothing of it to my colleagues. I will be seeking three months’ maternity leave in July … Obviously I’ll work around it to make sure that any promotions are well covered but I felt you should know that it was upcoming.’ She smiled around sweetly, meeting the eyes of the fifteen men in the room.

Carlo was at a total loss. ‘Well heavens, good Lord, I did not even know you were thinking of getting married … my congratulations.’

‘Oh no, nothing as settled as that I’m afraid.’ A tinkly laugh. ‘Just a child. We don’t want too much of a shock to the system like getting married as well.’

Nico’s jaw dropped, the others shuffled their praise
and
pleasure, but looking sideways at Carlo and Frank to try to gauge the mood of the meeting.

Frank Quigley looked pleasantly surprised and admiringly amused.

‘This is very exciting news, Joy,’ he said evenly. ‘Everyone is delighted for you. I don’t know what we’ll do without you for three months, but will you be able to come back to us after that?’

The inquiry was warm and courteous, nobody could have seen the way their eyes locked hard across the table.

‘Oh yes indeed, I’ve been busy making arrangements. These things aren’t done lightly, you know.’

‘No indeed,’ he said soothingly.

By this stage Carlo had recovered enough control to be able to murmur a few pleasantries, but he called Frank to his office.

‘What are we going to do?’ he asked.

‘Carlo, it’s 1985, it’s not the middle ages. She can have thirty children if she wants to. You’re not shocked, are you?’

‘Yes of course I am. Who is the father, do you think? Is it anybody at Palazzo?’

Frank felt he was acting a part in a play. ‘Why should it be? Joy has a full life of her own outside here.’

‘But why, why on earth?’

‘Perhaps she felt she is in her thirties, she is alone, she might just
want
to.’

‘It’s a very inconsiderate thing to do,’ Carlo grumbled. ‘And inconvenient too. Look at the way it will upset our plans for the North.’

Frank spoke very carefully. ‘When were you hoping to get that operational, not until the new year? Its planning stages will only be coming on stream in autumn when she comes back to work …’

‘Yes, but …’

‘But doesn’t it suit you down to the ground, not that you should
say
that to her of course. You were already worried that she might not want the move. Now that she’s having a child it might be just what she’d need, new environment, fresh start, more space and room up there, away from London …’