Twisted Love and Money (17 page)

“What message
was he sending?” Michael asked.

“Millions of
pounds, I suggest,” John offered.

“I agree,”
Dermot said

“What?” Dorothy
asked.

“If he knows we
are after him he won’t be trapped Dorothy,” John explained. “We
discussed how we might attach his cash flow through his business
with us and how to get to his backers. However if he is on to us he
can have time to find a white knight or a poison pill to foul us
up. Don’t forget he has sixty percent of the shares. That makes him
un-attackable through normal channels. I said millions because if
we want to go for him now we would have to offer him more than the
market capitalization, which we put, I think at forty million.”

“What might he
look for?” Michael asked.

John scratched
his chin and looked at Dorothy.

“He is
capitalized at about five times earnings on the market.” Dorothy
said, “In a bid situation that could double. He could cost us
eighty million.”

“Then we are
not interested,” Michael said flatly.

“Not at that
price,” Dorothy confirmed.

“So we leave
him?” Michael sounded relieved.

“We need to
give it some more thought before we close down on the idea.”

“Any comments,
opinions first, suggestions second,” Michael asked the Board.

“We should find
a way to screw him,” Peter offered.

“Is he
interested, really interested Dermot?” John asked, “What is he up
to. We must not lose sight of the fact that he is really worth
getting as far as we are concerned, an easy ride to a market quote.
Remember we were always going to have to talk to him because of the
size of his shareholding. So what if he is on to something. That is
either fact or not. Is he talkable to?”

“I think so,”
Dermot said after a moment.

“Tell us how
your see it Dermot?” Michael suggested.

“
The way I see it is this,” Dermot continued. “I think Colm
O’Donoghue is worried. Worried because he is not getting any
younger. He wants to set up things for his grandson.”

“Where can we
come in?” John prompted.

“I think he
will talk merger if the price is right. This would have to cover
some guarantees for his boy.”

“What do you
think Dorothy?” Michael asked.
“Well dad, if you sold our business now, maybe you could make a
hundred million, that is five times profits. But get a stock
exchange quote and get a growth rating and with our growth curve
the value could go up to a two hundred million.”

“It is a big
prize,” John supported. “O’Donoghue via Howlett Holdings is a good
road way in.”

“Yes,” Dorothy
continued an excited gleam in her eye. “If we can pay O’Donoghue in
shares it would cost us no cash and he would have to wait for a
capital gain as we grow the business.”

“We should go
for it,” John urged. “I’m worried about the vulnerability of our
cash flow. We are very stretched. It would be a great comfort to
know we could go to the stock market for finance if we had to.”

“
You know I am planning to move abroad soon,” Michael said
smiling.

“Taxes,” Dermot
said sympathetically.

“Well I thought
I might hold a weekend entertainment at home soon. A start to the
farewells. Why don’t we invite O’Donoghue and his Grandson down for
a weekend, get to know them?”
“A sound idea Michael. Let us start a courtship. I’ll tell
O’Donoghue we that we can start some informal talks,” Dermot said
agreeably.

“Invite him
down,” Michael repeated, warming to the idea. “And make it
friendly. Then we can talk merger.”

“Good idea,”
Dorothy agreed. “If we can pull this off we would be on the pigs
back. But we must be careful not to pay too much. It could cost us
millions more than we planned if we are not careful.”

“Dermot, you
set it up,” Michael instructed. “ Let me know what weekend suits
O’Donoghue.”

Dermot nodded
and made a note.

“Any other
business?” Michael asked.

“Just to say we
have had confirmation for massive orders from the Associated
Finance Group, AF for short,” Peter announced confidently.

“Excellent work
Peter, You have made a killing there.”

The board
murmured its approval, even Dorothy.

“I presume all
supply arrangements are in hand?” Peter asked Dermot
imperiously

“Yes, relax
Peter. All commitments are in place. I will have a detailed report
for the board next week.”

“Brief me
before then,” Peter said shortly

“No problem,”
Dermot agreed, a little disturbed by Peters lack of respect.

“Meeting
adjourned,” Michael announced looking at his watch and they all
broke up and went back to their respective offices.

Chapter
twenty

Peter slipped
carefully out the back way. In five minutes he was in his barbers
getting a hair cut and discussing the latest Manchester United
match.

She was waiting
for him in the main bar in Jury’s Hotel. Janet had worn a simple
white cotton frock for the date. Her beauty caught the eye of every
man and woman in the bar.

“I cannot stay
long,” Janet said to Peter. “I am expecting a call from London. I
have to return to my flat soon.”

“Can I come?”
Peter asked overanxiously. He could not quite come to terms with
Janet’s sophistication, it made him nervous.

“Don’t be
ridiculous,” Janet threw at him with a laugh, softened by the
friendly look. He felt squashed.

Peter began to
try to impress her. “Confirmed with O’Rourke, all on course for
those extra orders,” he said crisply, businesslike.

“When will you
start shipping?”

“In a month in
line with the order pattern.”

“I have not
looked at the quality aspects of your distribution yet,” Janet
added to sound equally brisk.

“Mainly
contracted in. Largest hauler is O’Donoghue Transport. That is, if
we decide to stay with them.”

Janet felt her
antennae come up. What was he saying?

“Trouble?” she
asked.

“No, no, don’t
concern yourself. We constantly review our suppliers.”

Janet let it
go. But she came back to it. Half an hour later Peter was confiding
in her in whispers.

“Joke of the
day. Howlett Holdings are a UK quoted company. A small company by
UK standards but controlled and owned by O’Donoghue, it has had a
Stock Exchange Quotation for reasons lost in history. The joke is
they are interested in taking us over.”

Janet tensed,
but smiled to share the joke.

“Part of my
enquiry covered corporate ownership and I was surprised to find
that your father only holds seventy percent of the company, with
the balance held by a trust fund?” she asked.

“No problem
there,” Peter explained, “my Grandfather left ten percent of the
company to each of the grandchildren, that is myself, Dorothy and
Ann-Marie, in trust. It falls due when Ann-Marie is twenty-one and
we all get the shares. Don’t think it is some outside agency, it is
all still family and Dad, my father Michael is the trustee of the
fund.”

Janet looked at
Peter with new eyes. Peter could be worth ten or more million,
depending on the valuation put on O’Byrne’s.

Janet listened
and laughed in all the right places. Peter felt he was clever and
admired. Janet listened and extracted every last detail.

“I’m expecting
a phone call. I have to get back.”

It was as much
as Peter could manage to get her to promise another date.

“Yes, please
ring me. I’d love to meet you again Peter. But let’s not be too
serious. Remember I won’t be staying too long in these parts. When
I have completed my role here it will be back to London for
me.”

And then she
was gone.

Peter was left
in the bar to finish his pint, depressed. He had not even got a
kiss. Peter felt highly anxious. He could not quiet come to terms
with Janet’s sophistication. It made him nervous and simultaneously
excited and attracted. He considered her parting remark, it had not
occurred to him that she might vanish off to London. He found
himself missing her even though she was just across the road in her
flat. He ordered another drink.

****

Back in her
apartment Janet put a call through to Crawford. The Howlett
Holdings proposal might seem to Peter to be a bit of a laugh, but
it sounded more to her. More like a poison pill, which could sour
her deal. It was time to act.

When Janet put
down the phone she felt uneasy. Crawford had understood her
concerns. He had agreed that the next phase of the plan would have
to move up into action. By now O’Byrne’s would have extended their
credit lines and made firm commitments as necessary to meet the AF
orders and should be vulnerable. Crawford congratulated her and
rang off, saying he would come to Dublin within the next two weeks.
It was clear he was looking forward to meeting her again.

It was Janet’s
habit to analyze her feelings and not ignore them. It helped her to
think clearly.

It was Peter,
she decided. She felt uneasy about using him. It was the way he
would look at her. She wondered if he affected other women in the
same way. He had sexuality, an enjoyment of women plus a needy
anxiety. He was something a good woman, a clever woman, could mould
and make a lot of. And added to that, apparently with the shares in
trust, he was wealthy.

The buzzer on
the door interrupted her thoughts. She finished pouring the boiling
water into the coffee she was making. The buzzer went again. She
walked over and pressed the intercom.

“Who is
it?”

“Peter.”

“Peter?” Janet
felt warmth and added crossly, “I thought you had gone back to
work?”

“Work,” Peter
said, his anxiety coming through on the intercom, “I can’t work,
all I can think of is you.”

Janet felt
herself redden, blush, something she was not accustomed to.

“Come up,” she
decided, not knowing why she felt an excitement at the prospect.
Funny how he had arrived just as she was thinking of him.

Peter came in
with a big apologetic smile, took her by the elbows and kissed
her.

Janet had to
pull herself together and avoided dropping her cup of coffee.

“Peter.
Behave!” she insisted.

Suddenly
Peter’s courage failed. He looked deep into her eyes, still softly
holding her elbows.

“Careful of the
coffee” she said, more gently, extricating herself from his hands.
“Would you like a cup?”

“Please.”

“Then come in
and sit down.”

Peter stood
awkwardly, taking in the details of the flat. He had been delighted
to find her name on the buzzers in the hall. He followed Janet from
the small hallway of the flat into the living area and Janet
indicated to the settee, while she went into the kitchen area and
poured him a cup from the remainder of the coffee. Peter noticed
the potted plants, the small balcony and the door to the left that,
he presumed rightly, led to the bedroom.

“Nice flat,” he
said as Janet handed him the cup of coffee and he felt some of his
composure return.

“Small, but
well appointed, they come furnished,” Janet said agreeably.

“Do sit,” she
added with a smile.

Peter took the
larger of the settees and Janet sat opposite him.

“Did you make
your phone call?” he asked, to fill the silence.

“Yes.”

Janet could
feel some electricity in the air. She knew something was about to
happen. She felt that Peter was about to break through her defences
and become, not a means to her target, but something else. There
was sexual tension in the room and Janet could read what was
coming. He was going to make a serious pass at her. To her
surprise, this excited her and she waited, giving him time, curious
to see what he would do next.

She had had
this feeling before, as a prelude to previous romances. It made her
uneasy. Peter was supposed to be her victim, someone she was soon
to betray. She stood up and fetched the sugar and milk. This time
she sat back down beside him, an arms length away.

“Did you do
that drawing?” Peter asked, indicating to a small red drawing of
the wall near the window.

“Yes, I went to
art classes.”

“I like the
bright colours. What is it?”

“Something
Vaginal.”

“Oh?”

“It’s a wood
painting.”

“I see,” Peter
said, but he didn’t.

Amused at his
puzzlement, Janet passed him the milk.

“Thanks,” he
said.

He sipped.

She sipped.

Their eyes
met.

She asked if
he’d care for a biscuit.

He
declined.

Silence again.
Janet put down her coffee and so did he. She sat back and they both
looked out across the balcony at the sky outside. As Janet reached
forward to pick up her coffee, almost simultaneously Peter put his
hand down on the coffee table. They bumped hands. Peter took her
hand and their eyes met again. Peter was confused, he felt like a
man and he felt like a schoolboy all at the same time. He wondered
if she could detect what he felt must be a slight tremble in his
hand. His feelings rushed in and took over.

“Janet?”

“Yes
Peter?”

“I’ve fallen
for you.”

“How do you
know Peter?”

“I know. God
knows I have had enough experience to recognize the real
thing.”

“The real
thing?”

“Yes, you know
what I mean.”

“Tell me?”

“Janet, you are
a class act. You are very beautiful, and very bright and
intelligent. Much cleverer than I am, I suspect. I…I really admire
brains in a beautiful woman.”