The Talisman (66 page)

Edward was on the phone when Alex entered, and waved him in, paying no other attention to him. ‘Well, if it’s a popular street we’ll make it even more so, run a string of boutiques along the whole length of it, stocking all the newfangled gear the kids want . . . Yeah, okay, I’ll be in touch.’ Replacing the receiver, he clapped his hands. ‘We’re going into the fashion business, Alex. I’ve been reading all these mags, the Carnaby Street boutiques are doing a roaring trade – fancy the mini-skirts myself . . . How you doing, old fella, long time no see?’

Alex couldn’t speak, he simply stared. The cowboy boots, the denims, they were not the reason . . . Edward, with his long hair, looked like a ghost.

‘What the hell’s the matter? The gear? Don’t worry about it, I’ll get organized soon . . . Alex?’

His face white, Alex dropped into the chair opposite his brother’s. He swallowed, Edward carried on talking, heaving files on to his desk and slapping the top one. ‘We got trouble, eh? They want to close the club down, right? Fucking bastards . . . I’ll find a way round it, Jesus, what the hell is the matter with you?’

Alex snapped at him that perhaps he should take a look in the mirror. If it was some kind of joke, it was sick. ‘We build this whole thing up and for what, you want the world to know, is that it? You changed your tune, look at you – Freedom, want me to start calling you Freedom?’

Edward ran his hands through his long hair, then he leaned back in his chair and roared with laughter. The gold chain was visible round his neck; with his tan he looked fit.

‘Oh, Jesus, Alex, it never occurred to me, I just never bothered to cut it . . . hey, easy, take it easy, man, I’ll get it cut . . . we gotta talk business now, and fast.’

Barbara was furious. She had changed her dress eighteen times, had her hair done, and was about to set out for the Ritz when Alex called to say the lunch was cancelled. He gave no reason, irritated at her questions.

‘When do I get to meet him, then?’

Covering the phone with his hand, Alex asked Edward if he would be available for dinner that evening. Edward, caught up in the mound of files, shrugged. ‘Come over to my place, we’ll eat there, meet her there, right now we’ve got more important things to discuss . . .’

He swung back and forth in his chair, and then stuck a match between his lips and cocked his head to one side. ‘So you want to buy in, eh? Fine by me, but I want the money placed in a bank in Geneva, this wife of yours arrange that? And the other condition is, as partners, we go hand in glove, no cheque, no letter, not one document leaves this building without a double signature. You agree to that, then let’s get the lawyers in and away we go.’

Alex agreed readily, and they spent the rest of the morning discussing their massive network of business activities. One by one. They were only a quarter of the way through when Edward threw in the towel, yawned and said he had had enough. ‘We have to start selling, Edward. Lot of these small businesses take up too much time, and with the club going bust on us we’ll need more funds to lay out on certain projects we’ve not yet discussed. But the more of the smaller businesses we release the more finances we’ll have to buy bigger concerns. I think we should put in a bid for Buchanan House, they have a tremendous turnover and they are on the market right now.’

Edward sniffed, then concentrated on the heel of his cowboy boot. ‘Why, if Buchanan House has such a big turnover, do they want to sell; it doesn’t quite add up?’

With pride, Alex handed him a neat file. ‘They don’t, not yet, but I have inside information that there’s one hell of a family feud going on. We can buy a major stake, they have guaranteed three other members of the family will follow suit – it’s all here, Edward, read for yourself.’

Edward yawned, picked up the file and scratched his head. ‘I’ll take a look at it at home, see you around.’

‘Edward, we’ll be over about eight-thirty, is that all right?’

Edward shrugged his shoulders and walked out.

As Alex returned to his office he overheard Edward at the reception desk, asking about the new security system he had ordered to be installed.

‘They had begun work, sir, but we were unsure about certain specifications you had made, and they have to wait for some parts to come from Japan . . .’ Edward swore, and then the doors banged closed.

‘What was that about the security system?’

The receptionist explained that Mr Barkley had requested monitor cameras to be wired into all the offices, and then the night watchmen would be able to watch on screens in the basement.

It was already after eight when Edward returned home. He had been discussing the security system with the company, and was armed with a vast number of leaflets. He bellowed for Dewint. ‘I’ll have something to eat in the bedroom, I’m . . . shit! Look, can you knock up some kind of meal, my brother’s coming over, anything’ll do . . .’

Edward could hear Alex’s Rolls coming up the drive, and he swore, tossing the leaflets aside. He hadn’t bathed, changed, nothing . . . ‘Dewint, they’re here, get them drinks and I’ll be down.’

Barbara was wearing a sequinned, full-length white evening gown, off the shoulder on one side, a single sleeve on the other side reaching to a point on the back of her hand. The skirt fluted out from the knee, and she carried a matching sequinned handbag and a silver-fox wrap. Alex was dressed in a white evening suit and black tie, more to suit Barbara than for Edward. He had told Barbara little, just that Edward was as difficult as ever but had agreed to the buy-in, and was considering the Buchanan House deal.

Dewint served chilled champagne and murmured that Mr Edward would be down shortly. Then he shot up the stairs to warn Edward to dress, and found him still soaking in the bath.

‘Are you expecting any other guests, sah? They are wearing formal attire.’

Edward swore, heaved himself out of the bath and grabbed the proffered towel. Then he fetched his address book. ‘Call a few regulars, some from a show, and tell them to come on later – make it about eight to ten of them, okay?’

‘Would that be for dinner, sah?’

Pulling out clothes from the closet, Edward told Dewint just to get a few faces along after they had dined.

‘Stars, Dewint, look under “S” for stars, they’ll be here.’

Dewint hovered, squinting at Edward’s scrawling writing and shook his head as Edward held up a grey suit.

‘I don’t think so, sah, they are, as I said, dressed.’

Alex and Barbara sat in silence. The clock ticked and they could hear the constant pinging of the telephone.

‘Where has he been, did he tell you?’

Alex said he had asked, but Edward had been as evasive as usual. She began to tap her foot in irritation. ‘I presume he is aware that we are here? How long does he intend to keep us waiting?’

Alex stared out of the window across the river, where the Barkley Company Ltd sign loomed high in the sky. He sipped the champagne, then lit a Havana cigar, carefully clipping the end.

‘I must say the place is frightful! Who on earth did the interior for him? A lot of it looks almost threadbare . . . and all those terrible paintings, Alex, in the hall.’

Puffing his cigar alight, Alex went to stand at the fireplace. ‘Oh, they’re family.’

Harriet sounded very distressed on the telephone. The Judge was nearing the end and she found Haverley Hall very cold and her family in a similar state. Edward asked if she was all right, and not getting too upset, and she retorted that of course she was upset, anyone would be under the circumstances.

‘Look, sweetheart, I’ve got to go. Alex is downstairs, I’m to meet the new wife. I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?’ He replaced the receiver.

Alex and Barbara both looked at the phone as it pinged again, and Barbara stood up, smoothing her dress over her tight, firm figure. ‘Perhaps you should go and bring him down. He’s obviously on the phone – it’s ridiculous keeping us waiting like this.’

The double doors opened with a bang as she finished, and Edward beamed, open-armed. He wore a white silk suit and a pale blue shirt, open at the neck, a thick, heavy gold bracelet, and his long hair was tied in a thong at the nape of his neck. Barbara’s jaw dropped, but she recovered rapidly as Edward strode towards her.

‘Well, you must be Barbara . . . I have to apologize for keeping you waiting. There’ll be just the three of us dining, and then some more guests will be joining us.’

Edward bent his head over her outstretched hand and kissed it. She could smell a heavy, musky perfume, and found herself blushing. ‘Alex, you are a sly old dog. You never said you’d married a raving beauty . . . Sit down, sit down and let me look at you – champagne, let me toast the pair of you.’ He raised his glass and drank, then sat opposite Barbara, smiling, and continued to flatter and tease her. When she told him about her daughters he laughed, tossing his head back, saying she had to be lying, no woman who looked like she did could have two grown daughters.

Barbara warmed to Edward, laughing and joking with him. She did not mention her anger at being kept waiting, or make any reference to her previous visit. He asked her all about Texas, and when Dewint entered to say that dinner was served he leapt to her side, guiding her into the dining hall.

Rows of candles shed their light on the long table, which was set out with heavy silver, polished and dazzling, as for a banquet. There were big silver goblets, bowls of fresh fruit, large chunks of bread in silver bowls, and Edward was the perfect host. If Barbara spoke, he gave her his full attention, his eyes never leaving her face as if everything she said was of vital importance. She was flattered, and the flow of conversation continued throughout the meal.

Alex toyed with the thick, home-made chicken soup, and hardly touched the roast beef, which was overdone and too thickly carved for his taste. The wine flowed, good wine, and Edward kept their glasses filled as Dewint moved around silently, clearing and setting, as unobtrusive as ever.

Barbara regaled Edward with stories of her old devil of a grandfather, and even though they were not particularly amusing he threw back his head and laughed as if she were the wittiest woman he had ever met. Alex watched his wife blooming under Edward’s encouraging attention. Occasionally Edward would reach over and pat his arm. ‘You lucky man, you lucky man . . . Barbara, another toast to you both. My brother’s a lucky man, but I warn him, he should keep you tied to the home . . .’

Alex felt very emotional. Again and again he saw the ghost of his father in Edward. Sitting in the throne, with his huge shoulders and thick black hair, the only difference was that Edward was a year older than Freedom had been when he died. It was as if Freedom had come back to say, ‘Look at me, this is what I would have been if everything had gone well, if my life had been different . . .’

‘You’re very quiet, Alex? Have some more wine, I’ve lots of people arriving to meet your wife, so I don’t want you crawling off with one of your headaches . . .’ Alex’s lips tightened – Edward made him sound like an old woman. But he smiled, and accepted the wine as Dewint passed round a mediocre selection of cheeses.

The doorbell rang a couple of times, but Edward gave not the slightest indication that he had heard it. They could hear voices, people arriving, laughter, but still Edward concentrated on Barbara. It was not until Dewint murmured that coffee was served in the lounge that Edward jumped to his feet and withdrew Barbara’s chair. But as the three made their way past the long refectory table towards the lounge, Edward stifled a yawn.

Barbara recognized several of Edward’s film-star guests. She listened as they discussed a columnist who had written a scandalous piece about a drug addict, but she had no idea to whom they were referring. The doors constantly opened to allow more guests to enter. Two of the men were obviously gay, wearing extraordinary thick platform boots and flared trousers with torn tee-shirts. The next couple were both in seedy evening dress, but they all greeted Edward with familiarity, shrieking with laughter when they saw him.

‘Eddie, the hair! Dahling, I mean, it’s Buffalo Bill!’

Edward grinned and laughed with them all, completely relaxed. He kept the stereo playing all the time, with Bob Dylan, Joan Baez, and then a band so loud that Barbara could no longer hear the film stars’ gossip. ‘I’m a back door man, Yes . . . Yes I am . . .’ Barbara noticed that a joint was being passed round – not that it came in her direction, it bypassed Alex and herself discreetly.

Alex sat quietly on a sofa, tired, wanting to leave. A group of actors was holding a heated discussion about a production of
Hamlet
, and on the other side of the room the pros and cons of mini-skirts held sway, the comments light and flippant. Alex flicked a look at his watch, it was past midnight and he wanted to go. Barbara was enthralled with two actors, accepting free tickets for an opening night. The music grew louder, another Bob Dylan record.

‘Barbara, I think we should leave, I have an early appointment in the morning.’

Barbara would have loved to stay. She had spent most of her time in London with quite a different set of people and she loved this noisy, flamboyant group. However, she bowed to Alex, and waited for Dewint to bring her fur. Everyone kissed and waved goodbye, and went back to talking even louder as Edward ushered Alex and Barbara to the door.

Sitting at her dressing table Barbara creamed her face while Alex sat on the bed and asked her what she thought of Edward.

‘He’s divine, and such a character. The girls will adore him.’ Alex kissed her neck and she moved her head away, saying she was tired, and continued cleaning her face.

‘I’ll see you in the morning, goodnight.’

Barbara watched him through the mirror as he stood for a moment at her bedroom door, then gave her a small smile and walked out. She sighed, tossed the cotton wool into the waste bin and followed him, slipped into his bed and held him, performed well for him, dutifully.

It was strange, Alex was just as handsome, but Edward? She traced Alex’s face softly with her finger, bent and kissed it. He murmured and turned over.