To Be the Best (20 page)

‘Go ahead, Barry.’

‘Thanks. Oh, there’s just one thing – do you want me to send a car to pick Paula up at the airport tomorrow morning?’

‘No, thanks anyway, but it’s not necessary. My mother’s taking care of that.’

‘Good-o.’ Barry headed for the door. He paused as he went out, swung to face Philip. ‘Don’t stay too late tonight.’

‘I won’t. I’m driving out to Rose Bay in a little while, to have dinner with my mother.’

‘Give Daisy my best.’

‘I will.’

‘See you tomorrow, Philip.’

Philip nodded, turned to the papers on his desk and began to work. Just before six o’clock he buzzed Maggie on the intercom and told her to go home.

‘Thanks, Philip.’

‘Oh, and Maggie, please call down to the garage and tell Ken to have the car outside at seven.’

‘I will. Good night.’

‘Good night, Maggie.’ He flipped off the intercom, and went on working on his papers with the diligence and dedication that had been instilled in him by his grandmother years before.

From the moment he had taken his first breath, in June of 1946, it had been understood by his mother and father, and everyone else in the family, that Philip McGill Amory would be raised and groomed to run The McGill Corporation in Australia.

Before he had killed himself in 1939, after being partially paralysed in a near-fatal car crash, Paul McGill had drawn a
new will. In it he had bequeathed everything he owned to Emma Harte, his common-law wife of sixteen years.

His immense personal fortune, personal real estate and other personal possessions in Australia, England and America he left directly to Emma, to do with as she wished. But the business empire in Australia and his big block of shares in Sitex Oil of America, the company he had founded in Texas, were to be held in trust by Emma for Daisy, the only child they had had together, and any offspring Daisy herself might one day have.

From 1939 until 1969, Emma herself had run The McGill Corporation, both at close range in Sydney, and long distance from London. She had managed to do this successfully with the help of trusted appointees, some of whom had worked for Paul McGill until his death. These men, the managing directors of the various companies within the conglomerate, carried out her instructions and were responsible for the day-to-day running of their divisions. These were diverse, ranged from the mining of opals and minerals to coal fields, land development, and commercial real estate, and included the family sheep station at Coonamble.

The McGill family’s vast business enterprises, which were now the responsibility of Philip, had begun with that sheep station, one of the largest in New South Wales. Called Dunoon, it had been founded in 1852 by Philip’s great-great-grandfather, Andrew McGill, a Scottish sea captain, who was a free settler in the Antipodes. The McGill Corporation, as such, had been created by his great-grandfather, Bruce McGill, and later expanded to become one of the most important companies in the world by his grandfather, Paul.

When he was still only a very little boy, Emma had begun to talk to Philip about Australia, telling him of the wonders and beauty and riches of that extraordinary land. And she had filled his head with adventurous yarns about his
grandfather, speaking to him about Paul so beautifully, so vividly and with such an enduring love she had brought the man to life for the small child. Certainly Philip sometimes felt as though he had actually known his grandfather.

As he grew older, Emma had explained that one day Paul’s mighty empire, which took
her
so frequently to Australia, would belong to him and Paula, but that he would run it, as she herself was doing on behalf of their mother and them.

Philip had been six years old when Emma had first taken him out to Sydney with his parents, Daisy and David Amory, and his sister, and he had fallen in love with it from the first moment he had set foot on Australian ground. That love had never waned.

Philip had been educated in England, attending Wellington, his grandfather’s old school, but at seventeen he had rebelled, had told Emma and his parents that he wanted to leave school, that he had no intention of going to university. He had explained, and in no uncertain terms, that the time had come for him to start learning about the business he was supposed to run when he was old enough.

Eventually his father had given in, had shrugged philosophically, knowing he was not going to win the day.

Emma’s attitude had been somewhat similar. She had brought Philip to work with her, hiding a smile on that first day, knowing that her grandson had not the slightest idea of what was in store for him. And so it had begun – Emma’s relentless training programme which demanded complete dedication. She was stern, exacting, and the hardest taskmaster he had ever met. She insisted on excellence in all things, and diligence and concentration, and his life was hers until the time came when he had absorbed the precepts of her business ethos.

But Emma was eminently fair, and Philip had eventually come to understand that his grandmother’s unremitting pounding on himself, his sister, and his cousins was merely
her way of ensuring they would be able to hold their own when they were out on their own, and when she was no longer there to guide or protect them.

During the years of his training, Philip travelled constantly to Australia with Emma, and whenever possible he spent his holidays there, invariably going up to Dunoon at Coonamble, wanting to learn as much as he could about their sheep station. Sometimes Emma went with him, and he enjoyed it even more when she did, because she would reminisce about the old days, the times she had spent there with Paul, and he was always captivated by her stories.

In 1966, when he was twenty, Emma sent Philip to live permanently in Australia.

She wanted him to learn at first hand about the business empire he would operate and control as chief executive officer and chairman of the board.

At the end of three years, Philip had proved himself to be worthy of Emma’s belief in him.

She had not been unduly surprised, since she knew he had inherited her astuteness, her canny Yorkshire ways, her instinct for making money, and that he had the ability to turn situations to his own advantage, as she had done all her life. Also, quite aside from being the spitting image of his grandfather, Emma was aware that Philip was blessed with Paul’s acumen and financial genius.

Philip was soon well entrenched professionally and socially in Sydney, and he made a good life for himself in Australia. The country of his McGill forefathers, which had so fascinated and intrigued him since those childhood visits, became his true home. He had not the slightest desire to live anywhere else in the world.

Two of Emma’s appointees, Neal Clarke and Tom Patterson, had been instrumental in Philip’s training in Australia,
and they had earned his genuine respect and affection. However, it was usually Emma to whom Philip turned for guidance and counsel when he was uncertain, or when he faced a crisis. After his grandmother’s death in 1970, his father took her place, in as much as he became his confidant and sounding board whenever Philip deemed it necessary to seek advice outside his own organization. David Amory’s untimely death in the avalanche at Chamonix in January of 1971 had robbed Philip not only of his beloved father, but of a wise counsellor and guiding hand.

When Philip had returned to Sydney in March of that year, fully recovered from the minor injuries he had suffered on the mountain that fateful day, he had been an extremely troubled young man of twenty-five. He was not only grieving for his father, but filled with anxiety and concern about the future. He had a mighty business to run, enormous responsibilities to shoulder, and he was entirely alone with Emma and his father now dead.

Paula, never anything but devoted and loyal, had her own problems to contend with, and he could not inflict his terrible worries on her.

His mother, Daisy, who had returned to Australia with him at Paula’s urging, was crushed by sorrow at the loss of her husband. And although The McGill Corporation was hers, technically speaking, she had never been involved in business, and he knew she could be no help whatsoever. In fact, he was aware that she was looking to him for strength and support.

But quite apart from these problems, Philip was grappling with another emotion at this particular point in his life:
Survivor guilt.

Few people would be left unaffected after surviving an avalanche in which other members of the family had been killed, and Philip was no exception. He had floundered, been unable to come to grips with himself. Why had
he
been
singled out to live when the others had died? This question had dominated his thoughts, jostled for prominence in his mind.

He had no ready answer.

However, gradually, he had recognized that he must get over the traumatic experience, put it behind him, and if at all possible, somehow turn it to a positive. His mother and sister needed him, and he had the conglomerate to run, he repeatedly reminded himself in the ensuing months. And so he focused on the future, and hoped that perhaps the reason for his survival, the purpose of it, would one day be revealed to him.

With the blood of Emma Harte and Paul McGill coursing through his veins, Philip was nothing if not a hard and dedicated worker, and as he began to marshal his turbulent emotions he directed his full energies into The McGill Corporation. Work blocked out problems and worries, and, as far as he was concerned, it was also the most satisfying way to lead his life, to fill his days and nights.

And so it was that by 1981 Philip McGill Amory had become one of Australia’s leading industrialists, an important man in his own right, and one to be reckoned with.

The conglomerate had had its ups and downs in the eleven years since Emma’s death. But he had held the helm firmly, kept it steady, and steered the company ahead. He had divested himself of losing divisions, diversified his holdings, purchased other companies which mined iron ore and harnessed natural resources, and he had branched out into communications with the acquisition of newspapers and magazines, radio and television stations.

Under Philip’s aegis, the company founded and brought to prominence by his forefathers, and immeasurably strengthened by Emma during the years of her trusteeship, had
moved forward into the 1980s with greater power and financial growth than it had ever known in the past.

The phone on Philip’s desk buzzed several times. He picked it up.

‘Yes?’ he asked, glancing at his watch.

‘It’s Ken, Mr Amory, I have the car waiting.’

‘Thanks, Ken, I’ll be right down.’ Philip replaced the receiver, put a pile of financial statements, other documents and the
Asian Wall Street Journal
in his briefcase, snapped it shut, and left his private office.

His wine-coloured Rolls-Royce stood outside the McGill Tower on Bridge Street, and Ken, his driver of the last five years, leaned against the hood.

‘ ’Evening, Mr Amory,’ Ken said, straightening up, opening the back door for him.

‘Hello, Ken,’ Philip replied and stepped into the car. A second later they were pulling away from the kerb, and he instructed, ‘Rose Bay, please, Ken. Mrs Rickards’ house.’

‘Right you are, sir.’

Philip settled back into the soft, beige-leather upholstery, trying to shed the general preoccupations of the business day.

He closed his eyes, relaxing, letting the tension ease out of him. He thought of Paula and experienced a small rush of happiness, knowing she would be arriving in Sydney in the morning. He missed her. So did their mother. Philip’s mind swung instantly to Daisy. He had not seen her for the past week, since she had been in Perth with her husband, Jason Rickards, and had only returned to the city late last night. But he had no doubt she was hardly able to contain herself, impatiently waiting for Paula’s arrival.

He was well aware that the only thing casting a faint shadow across their mother’s happiness these days was
being so far away from her daughter and grandchildren. But she did have Jason, and for that he was extremely thankful.

What a vital role timing plays in life, Philip suddenly reflected. He had introduced his mother to the Perth industrialist in 1975, when Jason had finally recovered from his messy divorce of three years earlier, and when his mother was at last ready to enter into a relationship with another man. Despite their busy lives and their many commitments, both Daisy and Jason had been lonely, and they had welcomed the introduction. And then, lo and behold, much to everyone’s surprise but his, these two had fallen in love and had married a year later.

Seemingly it was a good marriage. Jason had a permanent smile on his rugged face and his mother never looked anything less than radiant these days, and she had put her sorrow truly behind her. But then his mother was a wise woman.

In the years immediately following his father’s death, she had done her level best to make the most of her new life in Australia. She had acted as Philip’s hostess, had then gone on to create her own social circle, and she had eventually thrown herself into charity work with a great deal of zeal and dedication to her chosen causes, mostly do with the welfare of children. This had given her tremendous satisfaction, added purpose to her existence.

As the only child of Paul McGill, who had been one of the richest men in Australia, heiress to his great fortune, and half Australian herself, Daisy believed that doing good works was her duty, the responsibility of wealth and privilege such as hers. She had created the McGill Foundation, had endowed millions to medical research, children’s hospitals and education. Yes, living in Sydney had been good for his mother, just as she, in her way, had been good for Sydney.

Jason Rickards was an added bonus in her life, in all of their lives, really. He was well liked by everyone, was very
much a part of the family. Childless, Jason had thrown himself heart and soul into being an adopted grandfather, and Paula’s children adored him.

Yes, timing
was
on their side, Philip thought.
And luck
…
lots of it.