Heart of Ice (3 page)

Chapter 5

It was the first time Sarah had ever travelled first class on a train. She took advantage of the free breakfast, but was careful not to spill anything on her top. She was going to be nervous enough facing Andrew Cross in front of camera without having to worry about a brown sauce stain in clear view of the watching millions.

While on the train, Sarah flicked through the text messages wishing her luck. Kathy and Jody had both sent one, but what had surprised Sarah had been the number from people she didn't know. How had they even got her number? Probably from Kathy or Jody. When Sarah saw the message from Stewart, she hesitated for a moment before reading it. She needn't have worried – he too was just wishing her luck.

The schedule was pretty tight. The train arrived in London at ten thirty; the business show went out live at midday. A car was going to collect her from the station. Upon arrival at the studios, the show's producer was going to have a brief meeting with her. There had been precious little time to prepare; Sarah had printed a few notes off the previous night, but for the most part was going to have to wing it.

*******

The 'meeting' with the producer turned out to be no more than a few words snatched on her way to the Green Room. The gist of it had been not to worry about anything. Easier said than done. There had been one other person in the Green room when Sarah arrived – a rather nervous middle-aged woman who was waiting to do a spot on a gardening programme. Alone in the room now, Sarah glanced through the notes she had rushed off the previous night.

“You must be Sarah Jackson.”

She almost jumped out of her seat when the tall, slim, immaculately dressed man came through the door. She knew immediately it was Andrew Cross.

“So very pleased to meet you,” he said.

She shook his hand, his grip was firm. He was standing only inches from her, a broad smile on his face. He was much better looking than the pictures she had seen online.

“Pleased to meet you,” she managed, barely audible.

He was still shaking her hand.

“You look a little nervous.”  He finally released his grip, and took a seat beside her.

“A little.” It was an understatement.

“You'll be fine I'm sure. I saw you on the local TV piece – you did a great job.”

He wasn't what she had expected. His voice had a deep, almost hypnotic quality.

“I see you've come prepared.” He gestured at the papers in her hand.

“Just some rushed notes I made yesterday.”

“Sarah Jackson, Mr Cross – we're ready for you now.” A young woman with a clipboard had poked her head into the room.

“There's absolutely nothing to worry about,” Andrew Cross said.

Sarah managed a nervous smile.

*******

Before they went on air, the interviewer explained he would give each of them four minutes to speak. Sarah was to go first. She took several sips of water to try to ease her dry throat – it helped a little.

For a few seconds, she struggled to get her words out, but after a while she relaxed and hit her stride. She had all the information at her fingertips. The number of people who would lose their jobs, the percentage of household affected the productivity levels at the company. By the time her four minutes was up, she felt as though she had made a strong case. She glanced across the desk at Andrew Cross – he smiled and nodded his approval. Maybe this wasn't going to be the ordeal she had expected.

“If Ms Jackson is representing her fellow workers, the very least she should have done is to get her facts right...”

For the next four minutes, Andrew Cross effectively destroyed every argument Sarah had advanced. His tone bordered on condescending, and by the end of his monologue, Sarah felt as though she had been assaulted. She wanted to respond, but knew he had her beat. His preparation had been faultless; he had shown her up for the amateur she was.

Before she knew it, they were back in the Green Room. She was still stunned.

“Lovely to meet you Sarah,” he said. His hand was on her shoulder; he had the same broad smile on his face. “I hope we meet again soon.”

With that, he disappeared out of the room. How was she going to face everyone back home? 

*******

Still dazed by the events of the previous half hour, Sarah didn't move for a couple of minutes. Then it hit her; she had let everyone down. She'd allowed Cross to ride roughshod over her.

By the time she caught up with him, he had just climbed into the silver Rolls Royce which was parked on double yellow lines outside the TV station.

"Wait!" Sarah banged on the tinted window.

"Sarah. Did you forget something?"

"No... Yes... "

"We can't talk here, we're blocking the traffic. Jump in; we can chat as we drive."

"I can't. I have a train to catch."

"Don't worry about that. I will have someone drive you to the station."

Just then, the driver in the car behind sounded his horn.

"Please Sarah - jump in."

Sarah had never been in a Rolls Royce before. In fact the only time she had ever been in any kind of limousine was when she was bridesmaid for her cousin Charlotte. Sarah sat opposite Cross, and had barely taken her seat before the car pulled away.

"Put your seat belt on," he said.

Sarah seemed to struggle with the strap.

"Here, allow me." He leaned forward, took the belt from her, and fastened it. His face was only inches from hers.

"Why did you humiliate me back there?" Her anger showed.

"That wasn't my intention." He sat back. "You're awfully attractive when you are angry."

Was that a compliment or simply meant to put her off her stride?

"You made me look a fool."

"Would you like to have dinner with me tonight?"

"What?" His question caught her off guard.

"We could talk about Milners."

Sarah hesitated. Her first reaction had been to tell him to go screw himself, but maybe she might still be able to convince him of the injustice in what he planned to do to Milners."

"I don't have anything to wear."

"You look fine as you are, but if you prefer, we can eat at my apartment."

"Okay, but I must make the last train. They're expecting me to report back in the morning."

"They?"

"The other employees."

"Of course."

Chapter 6

Somehow 'apartment' didn't do it justice.

"This is beautiful," Sarah said.

"Thank you. I can't take any of the credit. My sister is an interior designer. "

"She did a great job."

"I'll tell her you said so. Will you excuse me a moment while I let Mrs Simpson know there'll be two for dinner?"

"Mrs Simpson?"

"My cook'"

"You have your own cook here?"

"Of course, I can barely boil an egg. You aren't vegetarian or vegan are you?"

"No, I can pretty much eat anything."

"I'll just be a moment." He disappeared into the next room.

How the other half lives, Sarah mused as she looked around. Intrigued by the rippled light effect on the ceiling in the far corner of the room, she decided to investigate.

"Do you swim?" He said.

Sarah hadn't heard him come back into the room. The ripple effect on the ceiling was light reflected off the swimming pool from the floor below.

"You have a pool in your basement."

"Strictly speaking, it isn't a basement. We are on the sixth floor. It's the 'lower level'. There's a gym and sauna too."

"Where's the bowling alley?" Sarah said.

"I don't have... That's sarcasm right?"

"Right."

"You didn't answer my question. Do you swim?"

"Not recently. The pool in my basement is due to a leaking pipe."

"You're very funny Sarah. I normally have a swim before dinner. I find it builds an appetite."

"Don't let me stop you. I don't want to disrupt your routine."

"If you are sure you don't mind. I'll only be a few minutes. I normally only swim twenty lengths before dinner."

"Only twenty?"

"More sarcasm?"

Sarah nodded.

Won't you join me? I'm sure we could find you a costume."

"I think I'll pass. Perhaps I will have that drink while you take your swim."

As he made his way down the stairs, Sarah walked across to the bar. Spoiled for choice, she settled for tonic water - she wanted to keep a clear head.

*******

The apartment looked out over a large open park. Sarah was watching the dog walkers doing circuits of the lake when she heard a loud splashing sound. Although she tried to focus on the park, her curiosity got the better of her. As casually as she could manage, she wandered back to the staircase. Leaning on the rail, she glanced down. From her elevated vantage point, she could see only the middle section of the pool. Just then, he came into sight powering through the water. It was only a matter of seconds before he disappeared from view again. Sarah took a sip of tonic as she waited for him to reappear. Although most of his body was submerged, it was obvious to Sarah that he was in good shape - his shoulders and arms were those of an athlete. Sarah found herself counting off the lengths - seventeen, eighteen, nineteen, twenty.

She was about to return to the bar, when she spotted him climbing out of the pool immediately below her. If he looked up he would see her watching him. She should move away now before he spotted her, but she didn't. She couldn't tear her gaze from his body as he dried himself.

She felt a twinge of disappointment when he eventually moved out of sight. She told herself she was being ridiculous, but she couldn't deny the stirring she felt.

Minutes later, dressed in a polo shirt and chinos, he came back up the stairs. His hair was still wet.

"You should have joined me." He smiled. "I'll check how long dinner will be."

*******

Mrs Simpson turned out to be a middle-aged Scottish woman who appeared to enjoy her own food a little too much. Apart from the initial friendly greeting, she did not speak again while serving dinner.

"That was delicious." Sarah wiped her lips.

"Mrs Simpson has been with me for years. She's worth her weight in gold.

"Can we get down to business now?" Sarah was conscious time was moving on.

"You're very forward. This is our first date."

She blushed. Was he flirting with her?

"Milners is the heart of Oakhampton. If you close it down, it will destroy the town."

""It will close." His expression and tone was deadly serious now. "There is no alternative. The damage was done a long time ago. The current management team have been driving on empty for several years. The company hasn't made a profit for over four. It should have invested in new production methods ages ago while it still had the chance."

"Couldn't it do that now?"

"It's too late. It has lost too much market share. The numbers don't lie. I can show you if you like."

"If it's so bad, why did you buy the company?"

"I bought the group. Milners was part of the package. I would never have bought Milners by itself."

"What about the people who have given their life to the company?"

"The redundancy terms will be very generous."

"They need jobs."

"If they are willing to relocate, I may be able to redeploy some of the workforce at other companies in my group."

"You mean move to another part of the country?"

He nodded.

"I can't see many wanting to do that. Most of them have lived there all their lives."

Sarah stared at the table.

"Are you okay?" His voice was much gentler now.

"Not really. I don't know how I'm going to break the bad news. They were all hoping..."

"It isn't your fault. This was always going to be the outcome. It would have happened whether or not I bought the company. At least this way they stand to get redundancy payments. Milners wouldn't have been able to pay anything."

"I suppose I better get back and face the music.  Thanks for the dinner."

"Thank you." He put his hand on hers. The gesture took her by surprise, but she didn't pull away. Instead, she looked straight at him. For a few moments, their gazes locked - no words passed between them. She knew she should leave, but she didn't want to break the spell.

"I've enjoyed your company," he said - his hand still on hers. “You're a beautiful woman."

At last, Sarah pulled her hand away. She had no idea how to react to his words, so ignored them.

"Can you call me a cab?"

"I'll have my driver take you to the railway station."

"Thanks."

On the drive to the station Sarah called Jody. She was almost relieved when the call went to voicemail.

"Hi, it's Sarah. It isn't good news I'm afraid. Cross isn't going to change his mind. He reckons Milners was going to close anyway, but he might be spinning me a line. I'm sorry if I've let you all down. I'll catch up with you tomorrow."

Maybe Cross was playing her, but she had believed what he said about Milners. Whether the others would was a different matter.

On the train journey home, Sarah replayed the day's events. She wasn't sure what to make of Cross. Had he been flirting with her? It had felt like it at the time, but maybe he had been trying to deflect her attention away from Milners. Why would he bother? He had made his mind up on that issue - nothing she or anyone else might say was likely to change that. She could still recall how his hand had felt on hers. Sarah was tired, but couldn't sleep because every time she closed her eyes, she saw the image of him drying himself at the pool side. Even now, hours later, the image had the same effect on her.