Take Me Higher (15 page)

She slipped past Syrah into the driver’s seat of her car and calmly reached out to close the door. Her last words were, ‘He’s mine. ’Til death do us part.’ Then she started the engine and slowly drove away.

Katherine was as good as her word. After months of subtle nastiness to him, Syrah, the girls and even Keoki, she managed to eat away at their happiness. Fear crept in and crippled their love. No matter how much James and Syrah loved each other they could find no justification for staying together at the children’s expense. Fearing for Betsy and Carrie and what Katherine’s campaign of hatred was doing to them they began to drift apart, to face the reality of what was happening to and around them.

They and the children were having a few days fishing in the mountains above the Valley. They had spent a glorious day riding to the lake where James had built a cabin. It was rough with no gas, electricity, or even running water. They fished for their dinner and sat round a fire afterwards. All day long Syrah kept standing back and viewing the fishing party. This was the family she had always wanted
for Keoki. There were bonds between Carrie, Betsy and her son, between Syrah and the girls. And James? His was the strength that kept them together. Syrah felt a wrench to her heart. This was how it should always be and was not. Most of the time they were, in one way or another, each and every one of them fighting off a hostile force that was trying to destroy what they had together. She knew in her heart then that it had to be over for them, for the sake of their children and the lengths Katherine might go to to harm them.

With the children all tucked into bed in the cabin and fast asleep, James turned down the oil lamps. Syrah and he stood silently watching them for several minutes then returned to sit outside opposite each other across a fire shooting sparks and a trail of smoke upward to a black sky studded with a myriad of stars. It had been such a perfect family day out, far from the stress they were usually under down in the Valley.

‘This day, this night, is surely what we want for our children?’ Sarah began. ‘Not in isolated incidents to cling on to but as life itself. They’re too young to be caught up in our love for each other, the pain and anxiety that Katherine inflicts upon us through them. I am battle weary from trying to protect them. James, we must break off this affair and I think we both know that. Your wife will never stop mentally and physically abusing the children as long as we are together. A clean break is called for. Half measures won’t do. We tried that.’

He remained silent for some time, too choked with emotion to speak. He knew Syrah was right. In the months since Katherine had paid her visit to Ruy Blas and confronted Syrah he had gone down many paths: lawyers, psychiatrist, child therapists, the head mistress of their school, seeking help for his wife and his children. He had even put the police on notice of Katherine’s erratic behaviour so that if the children should ever call them for help they were in the picture and would come to their aid. All in secret so as not to antagonise Katherine for fear she might become even more vindictive, do more than hurt the children. She had actually warned James that she could and might take her own life, and the girls’ along with her.

‘I will never love anyone else, Syrah,’ he managed now.

‘Nor I, James, and that is what must keep us apart and give us the courage to find happiness wherever we can: in a sunset, a good meal,
laughter, day-to-day living. Otherwise our sacrifice will have been for nothing.’

Two days later, as they broke camp to return to the Valley, over a picnic by the lake James spoke to the three children. ‘Syrah and I have been talking. We both agreed this was the best family outing we have ever had.’

The children broke in, citing several incidents as proof. Their faces were filled with glee and there was laughter, and tickles for Keoki.

James carried on, ‘You know Syrah and I would like it to be this way always?’

Once more he was interrupted. ‘Me too, me too,’ cried each of the children.

Syrah thought her heart would break, seeing their enthusiasm, their innocence in believing that such a possibility existed. She had to look away to bring herself under control. She knew that James and she had to discuss the break-up with the children so they did not feel rejected but it was more painful for her than she had thought it would be.

James continued, ‘Now I know you three are really grown up so we can talk to you about several things.’

The smiles disappeared from their young faces and they were attentive at once. Syrah could actually see the light-hearted glint in their eyes dim. ‘Have we done something wrong?’ asked Keoki.

‘No, not a single thing. The problem is we’re living like a happy normal family and it’s not true. We are a make-believe family. Because we all love each other and want to be together we’re having to fight off nasty gossip about us. Mostly you children. You girls are having to take mental and at times physical abuse from your mother. I know what price you are all three paying so Syrah and I can be together and you can be part of our lives.

‘Syrah and I don’t want to live a make-believe life. There’s more to be considered, not least your mother, girls. I know you love her and she’s as much a part of your life as I am. We all know she is in some ways no longer accountable for her behaviour. We have to help her to be happy and whole again. Syrah agrees with that, so she and I have decided to go our separate ways and try for another life without each other.

‘That does not mean we love each other or you children any the less.
It only means that this is the last time we will all be together. A clean break will make it easier for us all. Now we have to kiss each other goodbye, and remember we are and always will be the best of friends in our minds and hearts.’

And for the first time since Syrah had inherited Ruy Blas, James was no longer there by her side.

Chapter 13

The meeting between Ira, Paula and Caleb could hardly have been considered a success from anyone’s point of view. No deal could be struck because no one had managed to convince Syrah to sell her legacy. Ira made it clear to Caleb and Paula that the bail out was going to cost them dearly. He put the pressure on them to get Ruy Blas and the wine cellar at any price. Time was running out for Richebourg-Conti and the private fortune Caleb and Paula had sunk into deals with Ira. But time was running out for him as well. The penalty clause in his agreement with the Baron was looming as was the due date for the closing of their deal and the take-over of Richebourg-Conti. But characteristically he calmly and determinedly tackled his problems.

The most interesting thing to come out of the meeting between them was the news that James and Syrah had broken up and this time for good. That came straight from Katherine Whitehawk and was confirmed when Caleb learned that James was no longer seen round Ruy Blas or advising Syrah. Now more than ever he was certain he could win her over.

Ira was still sexually smitten with her, obsessively so. His obsession immediately went into overdrive on hearing that James was obviously out of her life. More so than ever Ira saw Syrah as easy prey: her poverty, the struggle to work her vineyard and better her wine production, competing against Caleb and Paula, made her vulnerable and most especially so without James to lean on. He saw this as the moment to move in on her for romance but, more importantly, to offer to buy her legacy. Enough time had passed for her to feel the difficulty of the hard road she had so rashly decided to take. Ira was certain she was ripe now to curtail the hardships she was putting herself through.

It was easy for him to call Syrah because he had never believed in
her new passion for Ruy Blas and the wine world she professed to find so exciting. He had always let her rejection of him roll over him as if it had never happened. He was one of those men who never understood the word no.

Luck seemed to be on his side. It was Syrah who answered her telephone. A shiver of delight ran through his body as he heard her voice.

‘Hello, Syrah, it’s Ira.’

She hesitated before she answered, ‘What do you want, Ira?’

‘What I’ve always wanted. The legacy Ethan left and you for myself,’ he told her.

She had to laugh at his audacity. ‘Well, at least you’re honest. You can forget it on both counts, Ira. Oh, and please don’t call me again, no matter what the deal may be.’ She hung up on him.

Ira called back immediately. Before he could say a word she asked, ‘Are you going to be a nuisance about this, Ira?’

‘No, just hear me out. I want to take you to dinner – business, social, call it what you may. There are things you should know about Richebourg-Conti, things that if Ethan were alive he would want you to be aware of. I’m not doing this out of the generosity of my heart but because it might change your determination to struggle on at Ruy Blas.’

Not dinner but a business lunch had been Syrah’s decision. Not wanting him anywhere near Ruy Blas, she agreed to dine with him at Spago in Los Angeles. He sent a small jet for her and his Bentley was waiting to whisk her to the restaurant. Such luxuries had been her usual lifestyle before Ethan’s death. She slipped back into a role she knew well: not having to deal with the mundane. She smiled as the city flashed by her windows and said aloud, ‘Ira, devil incarnate, this is great but no longer interesting to me, you bastard.’

The restaurant buzzed with Hollywood celebrities, Californian millionaires doing deals, beautiful well-dressed women of all ages looking as delicious as it was possible to be. Ira watched Syrah as she approached his table. She looked radiantly beautiful in her black linen dress and high-heeled shoes, a long red chiffon scarf tied round her neck and trailing voluptuously behind her.

When he rose from his chair to greet her, he said, ‘It’s marvellous to see you.’

‘I wish I could say the same, Ira, but I can’t. I’m only here because of what you said I must know about what’s going on at Richebourg-Conti.’

‘Before we get into that I want you to know that my desire to own and be a part of Richebourg-Conti and Ruy Blas is one thing but my passion for you is another. Don’t lie to yourself or me. I know the erotic attraction between us is mutual.’

‘You’re dreaming, Ira. What about Diana? She’s finished with you and yet for me to go to bed with you would not only be distasteful to me but, I feel, disloyal to her. So just put that out of your mind and let’s get on with whatever you have to tell me.’

Ira listened and Syrah’s every word did nothing but feed his obsession to possess her totally. ‘What about Diana? You ask. She still loves me and one day will return to me. You are something apart from my relationship with her, but all that could change. I am fast falling in love with you. I know there is a deep and long-lasting friendship between you two, and that can remain. It need not have any effect on the intimate life between you and me. I want you for yourself, Syrah, and your legacy for us.’

‘My God! You’re a devious bastard, Ira. Forget it, I’m not interested in a sex life with you or any other man I’m not in love with.’

‘Now don’t tell me you’re going to turn celibate just because you can’t have James Whitehawk? Come off it, I know what a strong libido you have.’

‘Now you’re sounding crass, and I thought you were above that. My mistake. Do you or don’t you have business to discuss with me?’

‘You should make it up with Caleb and Paula and sell them your legacy if you will not sell it to me. They have been too greedy and ambitious and are in great trouble. They’re looking for me to bail them out with an enormous injection of capital. When I do, they’ll have lost Richebourg-Conti. Now if you don’t want to see that happen you have no choice but to sell Ruy Blas and Ethan’s wine cellar to them or to me.

‘There’s nothing vindictive in this, it’s just another hostile business takeover. I needed you to know the position because in spite of what you think, I do care for you and Keoki, I do want you to enjoy the life you once had and for your struggles to be over.’

The very thought of the family losing Richebourg-Conti was so
frightful, Syrah could have broken down and wept in the restaurant. Ira could see how the news had affected her, she had grown pale and seemed dazed. She was also aware that she was in the most frightful position and could no longer call on James for advice on what to do. She had the good sense to realise this was not the time or the place or the person to talk business with. One day she would no doubt have to, and through lawyers. Her anger was not against Ira but Caleb and Paula. That they should ever have dealt with Ira had been bad enough but to have played into his hands so that now he could snatch Richebourg-Conti out from under them was unforgivable.

For the remainder of lunch Ira and Syrah agreed not to discuss the situation any further. She claimed she had to think things out and Ira, having delivered his blow, was more interested in Syrah as the object of his sexual fantasies.

She was clever enough to realise that though she was pulling back from Ira, it would do her no good to continue insulting and abusing him for being the monster he was. That was why when he told her he was going to fly back to the Valley with her, to work in the area where he hoped to buy several vineyards, she made no objection.

There was little she could do about his returning her to Ruy Blas but found it distasteful he should be on her land. As he helped her from the car, she said, ‘You will understand if I don’t show you around?’ and was sorry she had even said that much because she saw the flash of anger come into his eyes.

Looking away from her to the vineyard Ira saw Diana working with some of the others on the vines. Once more he was aware of her as the only woman he had ever loved and felt a genuine admiration for: her honesty, her tremendous talent, natural sensuality, loyalty and a sweetness of heart.

Syrah and Ira watched her, both aware that for many years Diana had been the backbone of Ira’s emotional life, the other side of his darkness, the corner of goodness that was not all business, ambition, ruthless greed. Syrah looked up at Ira and wondered if he still wanted to marry Diana, make babies with her, use her for what and who she was. He had always been blind to their differences that could never be resolved: his extravagance, her frugality; his ruthless business and political thinking, her liberal democratic beliefs; his pride and adoration
of her as a cinema and theatre actress, her humility.

Watching Diana, Ira was contemplating how much he missed not being able to take possession of her sexually or when he needed a taste of genuine goodness and love. He disliked being estranged from Diana but still found it impossible to come to terms with her demands.

Ira’s momentary distraction vanished like an apparition. Turning once more to Syrah, he concentrated his mind on her and the things he wanted most and was certain to get. He believed without a doubt that Syrah could not survive: her weaknesses, her repressed sexual attraction for him and her desperate need for money and relief from struggle would drive her into his arms, no matter what she might pretend.

‘I have to leave now, Syrah, but one day I will take total possession of you, as I once did Diana, and I will own Ruy Blas. And soon. Sooner than you can imagine. You think about that,’ he told her as he opened the car door.

‘Soon, very soon,’ he murmured as the car sped away from Ruy Blas. Time was running out and he had no intention of allowing himself to be ruined financially by a clever Frenchman and a penalty clause.

That night over dinner there seemed to be some tension between Diana and Syrah. They both knew that the cause was Ira’s interest in Syrah but the two friends chose not to speak of it, Syrah because she believed that Diana was through with Ira once and for all. She had said so and continued to profess that her feelings for him were dead.

Tonight Diana remained silent about Ira because she had seen, and not for the first time, the sexual attraction between her friend and her former lover and knew that her long-standing friendship with Syrah had come between any affair they might have had. It was a situation she found too embarrassing to confront.

The two women were having a simple supper of sorrel soup and fresh bread from the local bakery, with a bottle of Riesling. Diana did of course know that Ira was once again after Ruy Blas. She could see how troubled Syrah was and asked, ‘Do you want to tell me about it?’

‘I think I’m in a hole so deep I’ll never get out. Caleb and Paula have all but lost Richebourg-Conti. Ira insinuates that only I can save them with my legacy but that’s merely a game of his, not fact,’ Syrah told her.

Diana was not surprised. She had been working with Syrah and James
for months, using her considerable fortune to help save the small growers in the vicinity who were struggling against phylloxera. Only that morning she had found out that Ira was about to steal the vineyard from Caleb and Paula unless Caleb was able to find the massive amount of money needed to buy him out.

Diana told Syrah what she knew and the two women sat well into the night over the bottle of wine, thinking of various ways they might save Richebourg-Conti. What they did agree was that neither Ira nor Caleb or Paula could make any immediate move without Syrah’s co-operation and so they decided that for the moment the best thing was for her to get on with her work, the goals she had set herself, and be vigilant at all times.

It was the first anniversary of Ethan’s death. Diana, Keoki and Syrah spent the day together, first in church and then in the cemetery to place flowers on his grave. At one point Keoki and Diana walked away so as to give Syrah some time on her own, close to her father. She no longer mourned his passing but missed him as desperately as ever. As she stood by his gravestone she sensed his warmth, his love, his pride in her and what she had done with her life. He gave her courage and strength and a sense that she had made all the right choices, possibly not the easiest but certainly the most rewarding. As she walked back towards Diana and Keoki she placed her hand on her heart. It ached for love, Ethan’s, James’s, but she was not sad. She had been loved by a father and a lover who had given her more than any woman can expect to have in a lifetime. If fate decreed that she had had enough, then so be it. She wanted no man other than James. Her sexual life was something she no longer even thought about. Desire had given way to memory and she had come to believe that that was better than sex with the wrong man. She was sure James felt the very same way. They were star-crossed lovers and she was learning to live with that.

Syrah’s father had left her several wine diaries containing a wealth of trade secrets that had become invaluable to her. Information on growers, dealers and brokers, lists of people in the wine industry world-wide she could depend on and trust implicitly. The diaries had become a firm foundation for her studies on wine and the industry which by now was her primary interest in life after her son.

She and Keoki were still living in the shack, working their vineyard and selling off rare bottles of wine from the cellar when things were at their most desperate. Syrah was as busy as she could afford to be doing aerobatic flying and they were scraping by. All that was missing were those marvellous liaisons with James in remote places, where they could leave the world, and work, and all their problems behind them. Every day she longed for him and that edge of mystery and danger attached to their meetings which had so enhanced their time together.

Today was one of the times when she felt it almost unbearable that neither of them should know what was going on in the other’s life. Indeed all that Syrah did know about James was that he was away from her and suffering as much as she was. What sustained her at moments such as these was her belief that one day when they were ready they would enter each other’s lives again and live with each other and their children or grandchildren as the case may be.

Syrah’s first harvest was a bumper crop and the finest of grapes. The first vintage offered since Ethan’s death and under Syrah’s own label was amazing, having been kept in its oak barrels, as suggested in Ethan’s diary, for an extra two years. It was as good as the best of the superior wines ever produced with a Richebourg-Ruy Blas label.