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Authors: Evelyn Anthony

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BOOK: Blood Stones
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James was glad to take the hint. ‘I am,' he said. ‘I've got a heap on my plate at the moment … If you'll excuse me I'll grab something and work through till the afternoon. Interesting development, I must say.'

‘Very interesting,' Arthur Harris agreed. ‘But it's just another problem. We'll solve it.' He gave James his sad smile and went through into the private dining-room.

‘See you at quarter to two,' Ray Andrews said, following him. He was good natured, and he wasn't jealous of Hastings. Dick Kruger went after him without saying anything. He couldn't hide his feelings, and with James he didn't even try.

They had a drink before lunch. ‘Who's Julius going to suggest takes on Karakov?' Ray Andrews asked. He answered his own question. ‘You're the obvious choice, David. If you'd be prepared to do it. You've known him for years, you're a diamond man from way back.'

Arthur Harris sipped his gin and tonic. ‘I don't think he has David in mind,' he said slowly. ‘Or you, Dick. He wouldn't give you the chance to make a success of something so important. You're too loyal to me.'

‘I'd kick Karakov's fat arse,' Kruger said violently. ‘That's what he needs, a good hard kick where it hurts. I'd ban him from all “sights”, as a start.'

Ray shook his head. Kruger's Afrikaans temper had been a handicap all through his business career. Cutting off Ivan Karakov's supply of gemstones by refusing him the right to buy at the monthly ‘sights' in London was not just too drastic, but ineffective. Karakov had a huge stockpile of fine gems. He might welcome exclusion from the obligation to pay big prices to Diamond Enterprises.

‘Let's eat, shall we?' Arthur suggested. ‘We haven't that long before the meeting. The Game Pie is good – I had it yesterday. I think Julius is going to spring a surprise on us.'

He said to the waitress, ‘I'll have the claret. I think,' he went on, ‘he's going to suggest young Hastings. No potatoes, thank you.'

Andrews stared at him. Kruger went red with rage. David Wasserman gave nothing away.

‘That's what I think,' he continued. ‘It will be the opening shot in the war he's decided to declare. Not just on Ivan Karakov, but on the whole top management structure in London. Starting with me.'

James let his coffee get cold, and ate half his sandwiches without even tasting them. Who would get the Paris assignment? He went over the probable candidates, even including some of the up-and-coming men at management level, only to discard them, along with Kruger, old Wasserman and Arthur Harris whose attempt to take control had been so brutally thwarted in public by Reece and that damned letter. Devious, short-sighted Reece could never be trusted. Christ, he muttered, Heyderman doesn't play by the rules when he's out to get someone. That's why he's at the top of the heap and Arthur Harris is on the way down … It always came back to himself. He must be the one marked out for stardom. If he succeeded. Failure would mean he'd have to resign before an excuse was found to fire him. He wouldn't think about that. He wouldn't fail, why should he? He never had from the time he decided he was going to become a prefect at his prep school and went on to be Guardian at Radley. He saw what he wanted and he went for it.
Go for it
, his wife had said. ‘By God,' he murmured it aloud, ‘she doesn't realize what it could lead to, but I'm going to win this one if I get the chance.'

Elizabeth was meeting her mother for lunch. Jill Fairfax seldom came to London; she found the city noisy, dirty and full of bad-mannered people. It was all pushing and shoving, and dreadful traffic jams. Nowhere to park. She and Liz's father made two or three trips a year when he watched cricket at Lord's and she had her hair permed and bought some clothes. In the summer they stayed with their daughter in Thurloe Square. The next visit was before Christmas to buy presents, and they stayed at Brown's Hotel.

This trip up from Somerset was exceptional. She was worried about Elizabeth, and had made an excuse to come to London to see her. By train, and not staying overnight as Liz suggested. She didn't really like staying in James's house when he was there. He was always welcoming, but she felt an intruder, as if he didn't like her imposing herself on them. She had taken Elizabeth to Claridges Causerie, a great treat she felt, and settled down to probe. She was a large, gaunt woman, weather-beaten from a life spent in the open air; she hunted, showed working spaniels, and lived a busy life serving the village community. Her husband was a magistrate, Chairman of the Parish Council and active on local committees. Their only son had been killed with the Scots Guards in the Falklands campaign. That had made Elizabeth even more precious to them.

‘Now,' Jill Fairfax said. ‘What shall we have?' She thought her daughter was too thin; undeniably beautiful with a polish acquired since her marriage – everyone stared at her when they came in, and Jill was proud of that, but surely she'd lost weight since they last met.

She didn't mince her words. Another trait she sensed her son-in-law disliked. ‘You look far too skinny, darling. Not been dieting, have you?'

Elizabeth smiled. ‘No, Mum,' she said firmly, ‘I haven't. I'm the same weight I was in June, give a pound or two. If I ate a lunch like this every day, I'd be bursting out of my clothes!'

‘Working too hard then,' Jill Fairfax insisted. ‘You told me about the new office block in Richmond, for Everlife Insurance, that must have been exhausting.'

‘It was a challenge and it was fun,' Elizabeth protested. ‘I'm still hoping against hope I might get the Lord Chancellor's commission. I went to see him last week, and he was such a nice man.'

‘He was at school with Pop, wasn't he?'

‘Very likely,' Elizabeth said. ‘But I didn't mention that. If I get this, it'll be on my own merits. All he knows about me is that I'm Elizabeth Hastings Designs.'

Jill shrugged. Her daughter had always been touchy about making use of social contacts. Jill Fairfax's generation saw no harm in it, but Elizabeth had been determined to succeed as a person, rather than as her father's daughter.

Her mother laughed. ‘Trouble with you, Liz, is you're a bloody inverted snob.' Jill was very much an open book and she didn't much care whether people liked what was on the page. She had always spoken her mind. ‘All right, you're not dieting and you're not overworking. But Pop and I didn't think you looked too happy last time. That's why I came up specially: to see you and to find out if everything's all right.'

Telephones, she insisted, were bloody useless. You had to talk to people face to face.

‘Everything's fine,' Liz insisted. ‘Except the one thing. I'd just been disappointed, yet
again
in June. And since. I don't know what to do. You never had any trouble.'

‘No,' her mother agreed. ‘Poor Nick was a honeymoon baby. You came along three years later, just as planned. But you'll never hit the bull's-eye if you keep worrying. Everyone's told you that.'

‘I know,' she said miserably. ‘But I can't help it. I know how much Jamie wants a family. And he's so good about it.'

‘Well so he should be!' Jill said sharply. ‘It's just as likely his fault.'

‘Mum,' Elizabeth warned, and her mother shrugged.

‘I wasn't criticizing. Look, Lizzie, that'll come. Just try not to concentrate on it so much. It screws up everything inside. Apart from the bloody pregnancy business, you're happy?'

‘I'm very happy,' Elizabeth said simply. ‘I love him and he loves me. He's so good to me about everything. I wish you'd believe that. After all, it's five years.'

‘I know.' Jill Fairfax finished her wine. ‘It's just that you're such different people. We always
liked
him—'

‘No you didn't,' Elizabeth interrupted. ‘And you said so. You wanted me to marry someone like Pop and live in a nice house in Somerset and breed dogs. I'm not like you, Mum. I love our life here, and Jamie's the most exciting man I've ever met. Or ever will. We have everything in common and he spoils me rotten. So no more nonsense, please?'

‘I'm sorry,' her mother said. ‘I worry about you, that's all. You come down once in a blue moon, and it's such a hassle getting up here for us … I'm sorry,' she said again. ‘It's just that after we lost Nick, we clung on to you a bit too much …'

Her eyes filmed for a moment. Elizabeth reached over and held her hand. ‘Mum,' she said. ‘Mum darling, don't … It's all right. I understand. That's another reason I want a baby. For you and Pop. You'd love a grandchild, wouldn't you? It might make up a little bit … I didn't mean to snap, but Jamie's a really wonderful husband. You've nothing to worry about. We're happier than we've ever been. Truly. I'm the one that gets moody. It's quite hard on him sometimes.'

Jill Fairfax smiled. ‘I'm sure it is. When you sulked as a child, the whole household was upset. Now, darling, changing the subject. Prue Langham has left her husband. Run off with a local farmer. Can you imagine the gossip? We're absolutely riveted, of course.'

Elizabeth slipped easily into the talk about people she knew and had grown up with, while a corner of her mind recognized how bored James would have been, not knowing anyone. One of the reasons why he resisted going down for weekends to stay with her family was not just boredom, but the feeling he was left out when they were all together; her aunt and uncle were half an hour's drive away, with married children and grandchildren. The Fairfaxes tended to gather like a tribe, immersed in local gossip and mutual friends. Generalities were not discussed. World affairs, politics, business – God forbid
business
– such topics were touched on briefly, if at all, and quickly changed to something comfortable like the price of land, or the difficulties of the Hunt in coping with the antis. Elizabeth had seen him withdraw, and sensed his discomfort. It pained her because she loved them all and she was part of them. But much more part of him. On her own initiative she cut down on the visits to her home.

She looked up and interrupted her mother in full flow. ‘Oh … that's Valerie Kruger … sitting down over there in the corner table.'

‘Valerie who? Do I know her?'

‘No, she's the wife of one of D.E.'s directors. Probably ex-wife by now. She's very nice.' Elizabeth caught her eye across the room and gave a little wave and smile. ‘I liked her. She had a good sense of humour. She made some of those ghastly company parties bearable.'

Jill Fairfax studied her. A very good-looking woman, probably middle to late forties, very dark and chic – she used the old-fashioned word to describe such women with immaculate clothes and hair.

‘Divorced? Oh well, nobody stays the course these days. No bloody backbone, that's the trouble.'

James Hastings disliked women who swore, and his motherin-law seldom let a sentence go by without the word bloody creeping in. His own mother would never have used such a word in conversation.

‘It wasn't her fault,' Liz said. ‘Her husband started an affair with his secretary.'

‘How common,' her mother remarked. ‘So she left him, I suppose. Silly woman. Should have got rid of the secretary. I would have done.'

‘Yes, Mum,' her daughter agreed, smiling. ‘Set the dogs on her, no doubt … no, it wasn't quite like that. This girl made a real go for Dick Kruger. And she was the sexiest thing you've ever seen. Tough as old boots and determined to get him. Jamie said he made a complete fool of himself. Ruth Fraser, that's her name. Thirty years he'd been married, and she broke it up. Just for money. He's years older than she is, and not anything special. Rather ugly, very South African. I never liked him. But so far,' she said with satisfaction, ‘he hasn't married the little bitch. She still works for him, though, and they live together. Mum, I think I'll just go over and say hello. Some people dropped Valerie after they split up. Keeping on the right side of
him
.'

She went over to the table. ‘Hello, Val,' she said. ‘How are you?'

Valerie Kruger looked up and smiled. James Hastings' lovely wife, always so friendly and good natured. A pearl cast among swine, she had thought privately as soon as she met her. With a prize swine of a husband, according to Dick. ‘Hello, Elizabeth. You're looking great. As always. How nice of you to come over. My friend is late, as usual. Is that your mother over there? I see a family likeness.'

‘Yes, it is,' Liz said. ‘I'll tell her, she'll be pleased. Look, let's have lunch one day. Are you still in Phillimore Gardens?'

‘Yes; Dick moved out – I stayed put. Do call. I'd love to see you again.'

Elizabeth went back and sat down. Another woman was making her way across the restaurant towards Valerie Kruger. They had seen Valerie once at the theatre with a man. James had been embarrassed and tried to avoid them. Elizabeth couldn't understand why and had been angry. ‘I just don't want to get involved, that's all,' he'd explained. Elizabeth couldn't see how being friendly to someone they both knew was anything more than an ordinary kindness. She had made a point of moving up the aisle to talk to Valerie, while James hung back. It had clouded an otherwise enjoyable evening at a very good play.

After lunch she and her mother went to an exhibition at the Waddington Gallery. Pop's birthday was coming up, and they decided a nice animal in bronze of horse and jockey would be a joint present for him. He had been a talented amateur rider in his youth. They all rode as a matter of course. James was terrified of horses and only watched them on a racecourse at Royal Ascot. Invariably, to Liz's chagrin, he won money.

It had been a happy day spent together. She dropped her mother at Paddington Station; they kissed briefly, Jill Fairfax was not a demonstrative woman. ‘Goodbye, Liz darling, thanks for a lovely day.' She had the bronze packed up under her arm. ‘I'll have to hide this when I get home. I'm sure he'll love it. Pity you couldn't come down, just for the night. We're planning a dinner party of all the old cronies.'

BOOK: Blood Stones
11.08Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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