To Be the Best (39 page)

‘With your agreement. And the one division I think we should sell is Lady Hamilton Clothes.’

‘To the Kallinskis presumably,’ Paula interjected.

‘Yes.’ Alexander cleared his throat, reached for his glass, took a sip of wine. ‘If anyone is entitled to buy Lady Hamilton Clothes it’s Uncle Ronnie. For sentimental reasons, and because of our long involvement with the family for over seventy years. I say let’s keep everything in the three clans. As you both know –’ He looked from Emily to Paula, continued, ‘Uncle Ronnie is prepared to meet our price. I’m not worried about that aspect. My only real concern is that you’re comfortable with the deal, Paula. Whilst you’re not involved with the running of Harte Enterprises, Lady Hamilton does supply the Harte stores and the boutiques.’

‘Uncle Ronnie assured me they would continue to do so, and on an exclusive basis, when we discussed the idea of Kallinski Industries buying the fashion division last August,’ Paula told him.

‘Well, Emily?’ Alexander peered across at her, lifted a brow.

‘Yes, it’s all right with me. But what about Amanda? She loves her division, Sandy.’

‘I know she does. But under these unexpected circumstances I’m sure she’ll understand the necessity for making certain changes, for streamlining the company to an extent. Grandy’s philosophy was that we must be loyal to the company as a whole, not just to our own divisions. I believe that, too, as you and Amanda are aware. Anyway, Genret
will be a challenge to Amanda, just as it was to you when you took over from Len Harvey twelve years ago.’ ‘That’s true…yes…’

‘What’s the matter, Emily?’ Alexander asked, frowning at her. ‘You look and sound rather hesitant.’

‘I’m not really. It’s just that I’m not terribly well informed about the real estate division of Harte Enterprises. And that worries me.’

‘There’s not
really
a problem, darling. Thomas Lorring is my right hand in that division, and he’s been virtually running it for several years. And you
know
that he has, Emily.’ He levelled a long, very direct look at her. ‘He’ll do the same for you, when you take over from me…and you
will,
won’t you?’

‘Of course I will.’ Emily sat back on the sofa jerkily, wishing she did not have to step into her brother’s shoes. If only things could suddenly be the way they were yesterday. She longed suddenly for Winston, regretted her husband was not here, that he would not be returning to England for another week. The thought plunged her into deeper dismay.

Paula said, ‘You’ve made some very sound judgements, Sandy.’

He rose, paced to the window, glanced out at the garden almost absently. He said, without turning around, ‘I think they’re the most logical moves, given the situation.’ He remained motionless in front of the bay for a few seconds longer.

No one said a word.

Finally Alexander returned to the fireplace, where he stood with his back to the blazing logs, warming himself.

And then, without any preamble, he announced in a brisk and businesslike voice. ‘About my will. I intend to leave this house to Francesca, and Nutton Priory to Amanda. Naturally the Villa Faviola is yours, Emily.’

‘Oh Sandy – ‘ She stopped abruptly. She could not speak. Her throat closed on her. She blinked back sudden tears.

He hurried on relentlessly, ‘Fifty per cent of my personal wealth will be divided between the three of you, Emily, and the other fifty per cent will go to the children in the family. And not just my nephews and nieces, but to your children, Paula, and yours, Anthony.’

They both nodded their understanding.

Anthony looked away, not wanting Alexander to see the anguish flickering onto his face. He stared fiercely at the painting on the opposite wall.

Paula twisted her wedding ring nervously, gazed down at her hands, thinking how uncertain life was. Only that afternoon she had been congratulating herself on so many things accomplished lately, and she had been happy. Now, without warning, she was miserable, filled with worry and concern, and facing the untimely death of a beloved cousin, who was also a dear friend. The implications of Sandy’s fatal illness were manifold.

‘Now, Emily,’ Alexander proceeded, determined to be done with everything tonight, so that there would be no need for this kind of discussion again. ‘Next we come to my holdings in Harte Enterprises. To be precise, the fifty-two per cent of the shares Grandy left me. I am going to give thirty-two per cent to you, and twenty per cent to Amanda. I am not leaving any of my shares to Francesca since she does not work for the company.’

‘Yes, I see…thank you,’ Emily said in the steadiest voice she could muster. ‘But I’m just wondering…is that quite fair to Amanda, darling?’ She asked this softly, not wishing to argue with him, but at the same time wanting her half-sister to be fully involved and totally committed to Harte Enterprises. After all, it would be just the two of them running it eventually.

‘I believe it is
eminently
fair,’ Alexander was quick to
respond. ‘Grandmother insisted that one person had control of this particular company, to prevent any dissension between us, and that is how I want it, why I have divided my shares in the way I have. You will be the majority shareholder and head of Harte Enterprises, as I am now.’ His tone was unusually firm and uncompromising and it left no room for doubt about his feelings or for further conversation on the matter.

Emily made no comment, directed her gaze to the fire, grappling with her overwhelming sadness, still finding it difficult to comprehend that her brother would not be with them for much longer, that next year at this time he would be dead. Her heart was heavy, and once more she longed for her husband and his comforting presence, the emotional security Winston gave her.

Anthony now spoke up at last. He said, ‘When you’ve finished your treatment, I want you to come and stay with us at Clonloughlin, Sandy. And for as long as you can.’

‘Yes, I
would
like that. It’ll do me good to be with you all. And then afterwards, Emily, I’ll work with you for a few weeks, take you through every aspect of the job. Mind you, I do believe you’ll be capable of doing it blindfolded.’

Emily bit her lip, nodded rapidly, glanced at Paula, her eyes full of mute appeal.

Paula quickly bridged this tense moment, when she said in a warm and cheerful voice, ‘Is there anything I can do, Sandy? Anything that will make things easier for you?’

‘Not really, Paula, thanks anyway. Oh wait! Yes, there is one thing you can
all
do for me!’ His intelligent, light blue eyes roamed over them, and he shifted on his feet, slightly changed his stance in front of the fire. ‘I’d like you to keep the news of my illness quiet, if you don’t mind. I really don’t wish it to become a topic for discussion in the family. And I certainly don’t want to have to cope with sadness and sympathy, or be surrounded by a lot of long, gloomy faces.’

A stricken expression settled in Emily’s eyes. ‘I appreciate your feelings,’ she said, and paused. Her voice wavered as she went on, ‘I’ll try not to tell Winston, but I think it’ll be ever so hard for me…’

‘Oh but of course you must tell
him!
’ her brother exclaimed. He looked at Paula and Anthony. ‘And naturally you must tell Shane and Sally. I didn’t mean you to exclude them, only your children. And yours, Emily, and our half sisters. I don’t want Amanda and Francesca to know – at least not just yet.’

‘What about Mummy?’ Emily asked, worry flaring. ‘Has she got to be kept in the dark, too?’

Alexander inclined his head. ‘Oh yes, very much so. It’s better Mother doesn’t know anything at all. She has a tendency to become hysterical about the slightest thing. She would only upset me.’

Striding over to the Georgian console table, Alexander picked up the bottle of white wine, brought it to Paula and Emily. ‘Well, that’s about it,’ he said, as he refilled their crystal goblets. ‘I’ve covered everything, I think. Incidentally, Emily, John Crawford knows about the situation. Obviously, as my solicitor, he had to be told, and he’ll help you with any and all legalities after I’m…er…when I’m no longer around.’

‘Yes,’ she said in the smallest of voices, and she clenched her hands together in her lap, wishing he would not keep alluding to his impending death.

‘This has been a terrible burden for you to carry alone, Sandy,’ Anthony said a short while later.

Emily and Paula had left together, and the two men were finishing their drinks in the drawing room before going out to dinner.

Looking across at his cousin intently, the Earl added, ‘You ought to have told me before, you know.’

‘Perhaps I should have,’ Alexander admitted. ‘But to be honest,
I
had to come to grips with my illness first. As I explained earlier, I went through any number of different emotions – disbelief, anger, frustration, and acceptance. Then the fury came back, and the frustration, and the sense of total
helplessness.
I was on an emotional see-saw for the longest time, and naturally it was impossible for me to confide in anyone until I could handle myself properly. And, of course, I did want to pursue every avenue, look for a cure, if there was one to be found. I soon discovered there was absolutely nothing I could do except take the treatment, and seize a bit of borrowed time.’

Alexander smiled faintly, shrugged. ‘I am resigned to it now, Anthony, and completely in control. That is why I was finally able to tell you tonight. And now that that ordeal is over, I can relax, get on with my life for the next few months. I aim to make the most of it…’

‘Yes,’ Anthony said, then discovered he could not go on. He took a quick sip of his scotch. What a bloody waste, he thought. A waste of a rare and special man. And such a young man. Anthony asked himself if he would have been able to handle himself with the same kind of courage and grace his cousin was displaying if he had been in similar circumstances. He was not sure. It took an awful lot of character to cope with one’s own imminent death with such extraordinary stoicism.

Alexander said, ‘Come on, Anthony, don’t look so morose. And please don’t start getting maudlin on me. I couldn’t cope…I had a difficult time dealing with Emily’s emotion this evening. I realize how rough it is on all of you…but it’s not quite as rough as it is on me.’

‘So sorry. Do forgive me, old chap.’

‘Nothing to forgive…I want everything to be as normal as possible. That makes it so much easier for me. I must now endeavour to ignore my illness, go about my business as best
I can, and in the most controlled manner. Otherwise it’ll be pure hell.’

‘You will come to Clonloughlin, won’t you?’ ‘Yes, in about two weeks’ time.’

‘Marvellous. Sally and I will enjoy having you. How long do you think you can stay?’

‘Ten days, two weeks perhaps.’ Alexander swallowed the last of his wine, put the glass down on the end table near the fireplace. ‘I’ve booked a table at Mark’s Club for nine o’clock. Perhaps we should stroll down there shortly, have a drink in the bar –’

Alexander rose at the sound of the phone ringing in the library which adjoined the drawing room. ‘Excuse me,’ he said as he hurried to answer it. He returned a second later. ‘It’s for you, Anthony…Sally calling from Ireland.’

‘Oh yes, I expected to hear from her. Thanks.’

‘Don’t tell her anything now. About my illness, I mean. Not over the phone,’ Sandy instructed.

‘I wouldn’t dream of it,’ Anthony reassured him as he strode across the floor, went through the double mahogany doors and into the library.

Left alone, Alexander sat down on one of the sofas and closed his eyes.

The last couple of hours had been trying, had vitiated his energy. Even though the others had striven hard not to display their feelings, to be brave, they
had
been terribly upset. As he had known they would be. That was why he had so dreaded telling them. He had only managed to get through the ordeal of breaking his bad news by being utterly detached and matter of fact.

He
accepted his death with equanimity now, had come to terms with his fate. There was little else he could do. And in so doing he had been able to confide in those closest to him,
because he could help
them
to do exactly the same thing. It was going to be hardest on Emily, of course. They had been as close as two peas in a pod when they were growing up. They had relied on each other in a certain sense. Their mother had been so flighty in those days, running from man to man, and marrying all sorts of disreputable characters. And their sweet but weak-willed father, crushed by the burden of his broken heart, had scarcely seemed aware of their existence. Alexander sighed under his breath. What a catastrophe his father’s life had been. And his mother’s, too. But wasn’t life itself a catastrophe?

Alexander instantly let go of this thought, not wanting to sink into deep philosophical ruminations this evening, as he had been so wont to do of late. Grandy wouldn’t approve, he said to himself, and smiled, remembering Emma Harte. How invincible
she
had been, and right up to the end. Life for her had been a triumph. So much for
his
theories…but then perhaps life
was
rooted in doom and tragedy for some.

Opening his eyes, Alexander glanced around the room blinking. It looked beautiful tonight in the glow of the lamps and the warming firelight. Maggie had decorated this room just after their marriage, and he always thought of it as a bit of English spring, whatever the time of year, with its primrose and daffodil yellows, pale blues and greens. Whenever it needed redoing he simply had the scheme repeated. He had been doing so since her death…

His cousin interrupted his musings when he said, ‘I say, Sandy, are you all right?’ Anthony hovered over him, looking concerned.

Alexander pushed himself upright on the sofa. ‘Yes, I’m fine. I was recouping…the last few hours have been a little wearing.’

‘Of course they have. Come on, let’s go to Mark’s.’

Within the space of ten minutes the two cousins were
leaving Alexander’s house in Chesterfield Hill and heading for Charles Street where the club was located.