Tall Poppies (31 page)

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breathlessly efficient, such a worker, so organised and pushy and quick. It was easy to tell she’d never been educated, but she was ,ividly smart. Nina was it. Weird and obsessive, but she was it, she was the one for him. And vice versa. Harry wanted to rip all that armour off and make her see it too.

‘There’s one about you. The animal who doesn’t need anybody, just sways around all day, going, “I am the cat who walks by himself.” ‘

‘ “I am the cat who walks by himself” ?’ Nina smiled despite herself. ‘I like that.’

‘Even cats need company. It’ll be wild, we can discuss Turing machines and Church’s lambda calculus under the stars.’

‘Don’t tempt me.’

‘See? You’re laughing,’ Namath said triumphantly. ‘Come or, try being happy for a while, what could it hurt? If you don’t like it you can always go back to being miserable.’

He winked at her and Nina felt a warm flush of desire lap around her belly and tighten between her legs. Oh God. She should never have agreed to dinner. She wanted him now, wanted him pretty badly. But of course, that was impossible.

‘I can’t go out with you.’

‘You’re in love with somebody else?’

‘No!’ That idea was so off-base she really did laugh. ‘Definitely not. I just need my independence.’

‘Independence, hell. You’re terrified of me,’ Harry said shrewdly.

Nina tilted her head. It was such an arrogant, lovely movement he wanted to reach over and kiss her.

‘I’m terrified of nothing. But I don’t want a man, Harry, it’s not compulsory.’

‘Then a friend. I could do with some company.’ ‘You’ve got Lilly.’

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‘Lilly? No, we’re just professional partners. She likes classical opera and shit that bores the hell out of me. And she’s nuts about her work, whereas I like to switch off.’

Nina weakened. What could that hurt? Could it hurt? She’d never had a real friend since Frank Malone. Now he was making her think about it, she was lonely, she did feel … ‘But you don’t mean friends. You’ll just try and take advantage.’

‘Nina.’ Harry reached over and grabbed her hand. His fingers felt rough and calloused, covered in tiny scars and burns from acids or Bunsen burners. ‘I swear to you, I won’t do a single thing to you you don’t ask for. In so many words.’

Tony rang Nina a week later. ‘Getting on OK, darling?’

‘Fine,’ she said. She launched into a summary of the new division she was setting up, a restructuring of all their research projects. It was Nina’s idea to have their various teams - human, medicinal, animal and supply all report to the same people. That way knowledge would bd pooled. It was already starting to pay off: a useless side-effect in a Dutch team’s experiment was the clue their coronary people had been looking for. And Lilly was a landed fish now. Nina was confident.

‘I know all that.’ Tony was brisk. ‘Stock’s up two and an eighth. I’d like you to knock something out for the quarterly newsletter.’

‘Sure.’ Nina was pleased. Their newsletter for analysts was important to Dragon; it led to big orders from the pension funds and institutionals. Now she’d really get

noticed. ‘I’ll get a promotion for this, and a rise?’ ‘You just had one.’

‘Come on, Tony, Dragon’s about results not tenure!’ There was silence on the end of the line. ‘Where were you last night? I got the machine. Same thing on Wednesday.’

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Nina looked down at the phone she was holding and felt a soft chill dance across her spine. ‘I was out.’

‘Really?’ Caerhaven’s voice was measured. ‘With whom?’

Never complain, never explain, Nina thought. ‘With Harry Namath.’

‘Of course, the charming Dr Namath. You went to the ballet, or the theatre? How delightful.’

Nina’s heart thudded against her ribcage. ‘Uh, we went to the movies. An Officer and a Gentleman.’

‘Maybe we should get you home, darling. He sounds like a bad influence. Just as we were getting you civilised, you start watching drivel like that.’

Nina said nothing. She’d loved the movie. Maybe she was meant to identify with Debra Winger, although she felt like Gere instead; she knew what it was like to have a worthless lush of a father and grow up feeling like dirt. Something in Savage’s voice warned her not to say that, however.

‘I spoke to Lady Elizabeth’s coach yesterday. She’s moved up to Klosters, away from the team hotel, so she can train with Jack Taylor.’

That was a lie. She’d been too stretched to give the Sloany bitch a second thought, but Tony would explode if he thought she’d ignored his orders.

‘That sounds promising, but you should go yourself.

I’ll call her and tell her you’re coming.’

‘OK.’

‘You don’t sound too enthusiastic, darling, but I think I can cheer you up. Tell you what, knock that newsletter

into shape for me and we’ll talk about it.’

‘Why can’t we do that now?’

‘No. I mean face to face,’ Tony said warmly. ‘I actually found some space. I’ll be in Zurich next Friday.’

Harry picked her up on Wednesday night, late enough so

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Frau Bierhof was gone and she didn’t have any excuse to hand. Night was falling outside the office window, the phones had stopped trilling and even the fax machine was silent. He found her crouched over her IBM, tapping away obliviously, her face lit up in a ghostly pallor by the light of the screen. Namath recognised that Nina sunk-inmy-work look. It was easy enough to sneak up behind her, lean over the keyboard, punch a few buttons and shut it off.

‘What the hellm’ Nina shouted.

‘Calm down, kid, I haven’t lost your work, it’s saved.’ ‘Are you sure? You better be.’

‘Hey, this is Dr Henry Namath, remember, fluent in processor, computers are my friends.’ He yanked her up from her chair and started waltzing her round the darkened office, humming the Doctor Dolittle theme. ‘Oh I can walk with the monitors, talk to the monitors …’

‘OK, OK,’ Nina said, smiling. What the hell, it was nine p.m., and she was taking a morning train to Kltsters. She let Harry throw her her coat and pull her

down the stairs. ‘Where are we going?’

‘To my apartment.’

She pulled back. ‘Hey, Harry …’

‘Where is the trust?’ Harry asked rhetorically. ‘I told you, you needn’t expect anything from me until you ask for it. Maybe not even then.’

Nina gave him a suspicious look but climbed into the cab. She could always brush him off if he decided to try it on. She tried to ignore the half of her that was longing for him to do just that. So far he’d been as good as his word: fun to be with, great company, but nothing more. A peck on the cheek was all she got when he dropped her home. Did he really think she was going to ask for more? Was she going to?

Stop that! Come on, girl, you know he’s out of bounds.

He’s a prize asset, he’s business, you can’t risk it, you don’t want to get involved …

She was wildly curious to see Harry’s place. A neat penthouse on the Niederdorf, a one bedroom with Sports Illustrated on the couch, a mess in the drawing room, functional black and white. Thick books on pure mathematics and piles of computer paper everywhere, not much luxury apart from a huge TV. But he’d set it up for her.” two chairs in front of the widescreen, home popped corn, chilled Millers, nachos, a large bowl of M&Ms …

Nina burst out laughing as Harry reached for the remote and pressed play. The screen flickered into life, the CBS commentators started yelling, goddamn, it was the Superbowl, last year’s final she’d complained to him she missed.

‘Have a beer,’ Harry said, ‘I got chilli dogs waiting to be heated up.’

‘Oh, this is great,’ Nina said, smiling, ‘this is so great—’

Harry walked up to her and kissed her full on the mouth.

Nina melted. Instantly. It was thermonuclear meltdown, weak at the knees, her lips parting, his pressing, her back arching into his arms, his tongue—

‘No!’ She pushed him away, breathing hard, fought for

control. For time. ‘You said you’d wait till I—’

‘I lied,’ Namath said.

Nina forced herself to sit dow.n and crack open a beer. ‘Don’t spoil it, Harry. Let’s just watch the game, all right?’

She refused to look back as he went into the kitchen. She was so turned on, just from that. Oh God, help me, Nina thought. She wasn’t in control any more, she was out of control. He was so gorgeous. And so smart, and so sweet. Regret stabbed at her like a dagger. Harry liked

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her, because he didn’t know her. He just had no idea what he’d be getting himself into.

She wanted him so badly. She wanted to cry.

2.66

Nina checked in to the Fluela at noon. She hated Davos. Huge cinder-block hotels, roads clogged with traffic, gawking Eurotrash tourists lumping skis and boots on their way to the endless lift queues. This was town as theme park: skiing, skiing and more skiing. Snow, fondues and ugly nylon suits. Elizabeth’s world.

She got her room key and went right upstairs. Last night with Harry had unsettled her, she felt nervous and edgy. She wasn’t like this, her confidence gone and her armour dented. Tony was turning up tomorrow, and she didn’t even know how she felt about that. Soon it would be time to transfer back to London, with a promotion. More money, more status … I’m writing a section of the analysts” report, Nina reminded herself, staring out of her window at the icy massifs in front of her. I’ll see less of Harry, I’ll get back on track, it’ll be great.

She thought about Tony as she dialled Elizabeth’s hotel in the valley below. He .seemed to miss her. That had to be a plus.

So why was she wishing so hard that he wouldn’t show up?

‘Hotel M611er, giiten Tag.’

‘Can I speak to Lady Elizabeth Savage? This is Nina Roth.’

A few seconds before Elizabeth picked up. ‘Nina! Daddy told me I might have the pleasure.’

Nina’s confusion vanished in a hot surge of anger. She

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said politely, ‘I wonder if I could have a few minutes of your time? Tony would like a progress report.’

‘But of course.’ Silky limey tones, sounds just like her papa. ‘Would three o’clock suit?’

‘Not really. If we meet then I can’t get on a train until—’

‘That’s the only time I’ve got today.’

Nina bit her lip so hard it hurt. ‘Then three o’clock it is. I’ll come to you.’

‘Wonderful. I’ll look forward to it.’

She got to Elizabeth’s hotel at ten of, after twenty fruitless minutes tramping Klosters’ fairy-tale streets trying to find it. She was cold and exasperated, her ‘Jimmy Choo boots probably ruined, her ass freezing off under her primrose Galliano skirt. Nina wanted to show up for the bitch wearing Levi’s and a sloppy Joe, Harry style, but Elizabeth might have reported her to Tony. Nina knew they hated each other really, but she didn’t understand them any more. And she didn’t trust either of them. As well as the cold, Klosters oppressed her with its huge Olympic rings everywhere, TV crews on every corner, the Games paraphernalia limbering up. A picture of Elizabeth herself, green eyes limpid, gazed out from an import cover of a British sports magazine.

Jealousy flashed through Nina. Elizabeth had all this, but it wasn’t enough, she wanted her playtime in Daddy’s back yard as well, all the trappings of the businesswoman without doing one thing to earn them. In Klosters Nina was forced to think about the loathsome prospect that Elizabeth actually won an Olympic gold. Then she really would be famous, she’d be a heroine to the Brits. World Champion was good, but those things came and went. The Olympics had that magic. What would Elizabeth do with leverage like that?

It made her sick just thinking about it. Today she was

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here, wasting her time, freezing her butt off, playing a stupid game - Elizabeth thought Nina was taking a report on the vitamin pill but all Tony was interested in was Jack Taylor. Nina smiled grimly as her new boots scuffed on icy cobbles. Jack, another rich kid, another snow jock. What was there to admire in skiers, anyway? Only rich kids could ski. You wouldn’t get many competitors from the Bronx or the East End, not like running or soccer or something. That must cut the competition pretty good. Probably ninety per cent of potential champions would never even see a goddamn mountain.

Lady Elizabeth’s hotel was right next to the Walserhof, where Charles and Di had stayed last year. It looked rich but utterly discreet and secure. Nina picked out the guards right away: burly ‘guests’ who didn’t quite fit in by the levator, reception area and front door. One of them caught her assessing look and turned away, not used to being identified. But I’m not like the press, paisan, Nina thought. We can spot muscle in Brooklyn.

The receptionist showed her to an anteroom and Nina settled down to wait. And wait. Her anger grew as the minutes ticked by, her mind on the trains, rearranging her travel plans. This selfishness was gonna get her home at nearly midnight.

The door opened and Elizabeth strode in. She was dressed in some kind of sexy, clingy rainbow-suit with black sneakers. Goggle-lines marked her tanned face. She was glowing from exercise, tawny hair pulled back in a girlish pigtail and her gold signet ring glinting on her left hand. Elizabeth looked like a convent girl on a school outing, and this, this, was the kid who fancied herself as Charles Saatchi, that tried to have Nina fired?

Elizabeth smiled defiantly and dumped a pile of fax papers on the table. ‘Sorry I’m late. Got caught up in a crash on the Strela.

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Really vile, one of the Spanish girls twisted her ankle. She’s out, most likely.’

‘Oh.’ Do I care? Be polite, Nina, be polite. ‘Was she a contender? They can’t have much skiing in Spain.’

Elizabeth smiled. ‘I suppose you didn’t do much European geography. Spain’s got a lot of decent spots Sierra Nevada, Formigal, Baqueria-Beret … and anyway, most people would say I couldn’t have much skiing in England.’

‘Unless you’d been to Swiss finishing school,’ Nina said, unable to resist.