Twisted Love and Money (23 page)

“Funny, outside
Ireland it is easier. I feel less threatened.”

“We don’t stone
Gays over here.”

“I know, but
Ireland is a part of my values. I can’t explain, not
logically.”

“You don’t have
to.”

“Dorothy I want
to explain to you. I need you to understand.”

“To understand
that you used me.”

“That’s not
true Dorothy. When we met we clicked. Then when you took me home
and smacked me with that whip. I was so scared and so excited all
at once. I’ve never felt such an excitement.”

“Did you
consider my feelings when you just disappeared.”

“Dorothy. How
can I explain? Listen for a minute and don’t blow up. Look, you are
the other woman. If I were married to a woman, you would be the
other woman. I’d be saying things like ‘my wife does not understand
me,’ or ‘I’m trapped in a relationship,’ and so on. You’d
understand. You would cut me some slack. You would help me to work
it out. Christ I can’t just walk away from David. We are bound
together in so many ways.”

“Will you leave
him for me?” Dorothy asked directly.

Jeremy took her
hand. He was silent for what seemed to her to be a long time.

“Dorothy, I
want to marry you.”

Dorothy looked
at him with shock and surprise. Then she kissed his nose. “Really,”
she asked eyes wide and voice softened almost husky.

“I thought it
out in America. I was overjoyed. I realized I really do want to
marry you. I want you to own me. I want to change my relationship
with David to business and friendship, if I can. If not, well, I
decided I want you Dorothy. You will be my choice if you say
yes.”

“I say yes
Jeremy.”

Jeremy leaned
over and kissed her.

“But you have
been a naughty boy.”

Jeremy knelt in
front of her and kissed her again. Then he took her hands and
looked deep into her eyes. Then he looked down.

“Naughty
Jeremy,” he said.

She could feel
his hands tremble with excitement. She opened her knees and pulled
him in close. Now she was in charge.

Chapter
twenty-seven

There was a
tense silence in the office. Michael was red in the face and very
agitated. He walked up and down, twisting his fingers around each
other as he strode with nervous jerking movement, holding his hands
behind his back.

“Sell out, are
you mad Peter! Do you know how much effort it has taken to build up
this business?”

Peter shrugged.
His father had learned the business alongside his own father. For
Peter it had been different. Prosperity had arrived in Peter’s
time. Peter had ended up with a good education in Castleknock
College. There he had met others from privileged backgrounds. What
Peter wanted was not the business for what it was. What he wanted
was the business for what it brought. The power, the spending
money, the status amongst his friends. Peter was the third
generation in the business and his priorities were different.

Michael tried
not to focus his anger on his own son. He reminded himself that
Peter was the messenger. No need to shoot the messenger. The cock
up had occurred in procurement and supply. That was O’Rourke’s
territory. And not to forget Finance where they were overstretched.
Still Michael remembered the folklore; ‘rags to rags in three
generations.’ Was Peter, with his soft upbringing, man enough to
carry the business on?

“Peter, I saw
this business going to you and you carrying it on. The O’Byrne name
on a Public Company.”

“Realism Dad.
We have hit a major difficulty. Our major customer thinks we have
shit management. They are stopping their dealings with us. They
recognize our long association and are prepared to do a rescue
package. They want to put in new management. They will pay for the
business and take it over. However they will not pay us for the
business they give to us. Makes sense. They can stop us from going
under.”

“We can dig in
and fight back. We can take them to court.”

“Dad, our
reputation is our business. Our backers will lose interest if it
comes out that we are in difficulties. They only want stars. They
will see us as a dog. We are in deep shit. Fifty million is not to
be sneezed at. A bird in the hand.”

“Peter if we
sell out for fifty million, I get about thirty five and the trust
fund get fifteen. It is a fortune, but I want a bigger fortune. The
firm made twenty three million last year. They are stealing the
company. I won’t stand for it.”

“Look Dad,”
Peter said firmly, “after the cock up with AF, we have to fire
O’Rourke. O’Driscoll is old and due to retire. Dorothy is O.K. in
finance, but really we also have to let her mate John go. His
advice was too little too late. So what sort of a management team
do we have left? Back to the O’Byrne trio of you Dorothy and
me.”

“The
O’Byrne’s,” Michael said grimly, but with pride.

“And a depleted
management team. We need a five to ten year program to recover. You
are not a young man Dad. You could enjoy thirty five million. Even
if you just put it on deposit you could have an income in interest
of over a million a year. Not a bad retirement package.”

“But
O’Byrne’s?”

“O’Byrne’s is
your creation Dad. Dorothy and me, we can find something else. You
could set us up with a few million. We would survive.”

“A few million,
is that what you want? Listen bucko, don’t you see the dream?”

“Your dreams
Dad, reality has stepped in. It is take the money time as I see it.
That or end up with nothing for your troubles.”

“You, nor
Dorothy, neither of you will get a penny until I am dead. You know
that I have said it often enough. I control the trust fund and
there is a lot of discretion. I had to scrape to make my living
working for my dad and you two can expect no better. You get paid a
good salary as long as you work for it. No capital. Try going it on
your own, you will be sorry.”

“No we won’t
Dad. Dorothy and me are survivors. You taught us that at least.
Don’t think you have to look after us, not unless you want to.
Financially we will be both O.K. Likely thing is that AF would keep
us on you know.”

“No they won’t.
I won’t have an O’Byrne working for whoever took us over. I’ll give
you both a small income. After that it is up to you. And Ann-Marie
when her time comes.”

“O.K. Dad,”
Peter gave him a quick hug, putting his arm around his fathers
shoulder for a second and then letting go. Peter’s heart was
singing. His Dad was talking about what he would do when he sold
out, not whether to fight. Peter began to feel his millions were
coming within his grasp, the millions AF would put in his back
pocket. Then he would do some living.

“I would have
to accelerate plans to go abroad to avoid the Irish Capital Gains
Tax,” Michael added.

Peter laughed,
“South of France with millions in the pocket Dad. Could do worse
old man.” His voice was cheerful and concerned only for his
Dad.

Michael sighed.
Fifty Million in cash was a lot. Well thirty-five after the other
shareholders. But on the other hand he had been on his way to being
seriously rich and seriously important before this upset. He would
have been up there with leading Irish Business families like the
Smurfits and the O’Reillys.

But Peter had
come back from London with convincing evidence. The AF evidence
showed that the foul up was not just a one off. O’Rourke had ruined
him. He would never forgive his incompetence. He had put too much
trust in Dermot O’Rourke.

Peter watched
the set expression on his Dads face. He could guess at what he was
going through. Still he had given him the facts. Dad had to face
reality.

“We have to go
into the boardroom Dad. They will be waiting for my post London
briefing. Let’s take them through it. What you need is to develop a
strategy.”

“For what?”
Michael asked, confused.

“Dad,” Peter
said confidently, “you and me are fighters. We need to think how we
get the AF price up from fifty to sixty million. Let’s give them a
fight on the terms even if a takeover is inevitable.”

“That’s my
boy.” Michael said, “I knew we reared a fighter.”

“Come on Dad,
let’s face the board.”

The board had
been waiting for over an hour.

Michael came
in, Peter close behind. Michael frowned at the sight of James
O’Driscoll rummaging in the drinks cabinet.

“Whiskey
Michael?” James greeted him as he came in.

Michael gave
him a stony look. “We don’t want to be pissed; this is an important
board meeting.”

“Cocktail hour
Michael, one won’t do anyone any harm. Anyone else?”

They all shook
their heads. James shrugged and poured himself a scotch. Michael
said nothing. James was Michael’s man. Together they had forged the
business. James would need a drink when he heard the news. Michael
resolved grimly to himself to make sure James was provided for
whatever happened.

“Meeting to
order,” he announced and James resumed his seat.

Michael looked
around. Dermot, Dorothy, John, Peter, James. His board. The men he
had selected to build an empire. Men of straw. He could see it now.
Nothing like a failure to take the mist off a man’s eyes. He had
viewed them as heroes, invincible men. And now his dream was in the
dust. They looked so ordinary.

Peter had been
well prepared by Crawford’s men. They had provided him with the
bones of a presentation and coached him on his report to his
board.

“I would like
to make my report.” Peter said, getting to his feet. “It is not a
pleasant story but I think it is convincing. I had a very tough
session with AF. First with their Managing Director, then I saw
their Corporate Development people, and then I had a series of
meetings with their quality and procurement teams. I grilled them
all thoroughly. I also saw Simmons, their quality consultant. On
the way back in the plane I put it all together. The result
Gentlemen, and Dorothy, is a crude presentation.”

Peter listened
to himself speak, impressed by his own delivery. It was as if
someone else was talking. He felt good. He had their fullest
attention. He could feel that they were being impressed. Except
O’Rourke, he had the same deep devious impassive face as usual.

“Why you
Peter?” Dermot O’Rourke interrupted. “Why did they choose to deal
with you? This is a very serious business. Why will their people
not talk to my people down the line?”
Peter looked scornfully at Dermot. “Dermot, they may not trust your
people. You may think everything is straight, but you will not feel
so self-assured when I present my report. I think you will find
that your own people have pulled the wool over your eyes.”

Dermot snorted
in contempt. Michael waved him silent. “Carry on Peter. Don’t
interrupt gentlemen, and Dorothy, until he has finished his
report,” Michael pronounced sharply.

Peter’s
presentation contained numerous examples, stretching back over
several years, of ‘passing off’ where O’Byrne’s had supplied sub
standard produce to AF companies, including non-organic supplies
passed off as organic.

Dermot waited
out the presentation, his fury growing, wanting to jump in and
protest, but knowing that Michael was a stickler for his rules and
would cut off any interruption to Peter’s presentation.

“I have seen
the evidence with my own eyes,” Peter said as he concluded, “The AF
people have a large dossier. They did not cut us off lightly. They
are considering legal action against us for damages and fraudulent
practices. When they made their move against us it was on a basis
of a very well prepared dossier.”

“It’s rubbish,”
Dermot finally exploded. “These allegations are a tissue of lies.
What you have is fabrication built around half-truths. Every firm
has blips in dealing with customers. We have had some blips in our
dealings, settled to everyone’s satisfaction over the years. What
you are showing Peter is these incidents distorted. We have never
supplied substandard. We have never passed off Non-Organic produce
as Organic supplies.”
“They have the evidence,” Peter said flatly.

“Why don’t they
produce it in detail?” Dermot demanded.

“Simple, they
are preparing to take us to court. They do not want to reveal their
book of evidence prematurely.”

“Bullshit.
Let’s get to court. We will clean them out.”

“Or we will
loose our backers and also other customers in the glare of
publicity.” Michael said.

“We have to
fight them,” Dermot demanded fiercely, “I don’t know what their
game is but we… At least you Michael, James, and me, we have put
our lives into this company. We must stand together now. This is
not the first big setback we have had. Grant you it is the biggest.
But we must stand united and fight.”

“Michael,”
James added earnestly. “ I agree with Dermot. This feels like a set
up. I remember the circumstances of one of the examples Peter has
quoted. It was cleared up at the time.”

“Are you
calling me a liar?” Peter demanded.

“Of course not
Peter. You were presenting the facts as AF gave them to you. You
were not involved at the time of the incident I refer to. No I just
do not accept the allegation.”

“John,” Michael
asked, surprisingly pleasant, seeming to switch topic, “you are the
outside financial man. What do you think of Peter’s
presentation?”

John looked at
Michael, and then at Dermot. Since his interview with Michael, when
Michael had threatened him with the sack, he was unsure where his
loyalty lay. Honest, he decided, be honest, it is your stock in
trade.