Winner Takes It All (26 page)

‘
I’ve done
some background checking on our Mr Byrne. He joined the army in
1984 and his first tour of duty was in Northern Ireland. He was
there for two years before being posted to Germany and eventually
the Balkans in the early 1990s. No doubt he will still have contact
with soldiers who were posted in Northern Ireland and would find it
easy to retrieve information. The third possibility is you
Tom.’

‘
Me.’

‘
You’re in the
thick of things. You’ve got all sorts of information at your
disposal and for all I know, you’re developing loyalties to the
Cusacks.’

‘
Don’t be
ridiculous. I don’t know anything other than what you tell
me.’

‘
Good. Well
let’s keep it that way. My guess is that it was Byrne who has told
Alex Cusack about Healy. Unfortunately for us, discrediting the
Cusacks doesn’t seem to be working so we need to try other tactics
for now.’

‘
You’ve got to
get your hands on those shares Tom,’ Jackson urged. ‘You must speak
to Daniel Steadman and make him an offer he can’t
refuse.’

‘
Those shares
must be worth millions of pounds. I’m the poor relation; it will
look ridiculous if I suddenly have that sort of money.’

‘
We’re going
to pretend that a long lost sister of grandfather has died and left
you five million pounds,’ Jackson explained. ‘Maurice is sure
that’s above the value of the shares and should be enough to entice
Daniel into selling. Once you have Daniel’s shares, you’re going to
get to work on Tara.’

‘
Tara?’ Tom
whimpered. He couldn’t do anything to hurt her.

‘
Yes. You’ve
got a good relationship with her haven’t you?’

‘
Yes.’

‘
Well Tom,
you’re going to court her and you’re going to marry
her.’

Tom spat his cappuccino
froth across the table. It landed on Bannerman’s Saville Row suit
and with a look of distaste he wiped it from the expensive
cloth

‘
I can’t do
that.’

‘
Of course you
can,’ Bannerman insisted. ‘The girl is weak. She’s a plain little
thing with no confidence and she’ll agree to marry you as easy as
anything. You draw up a pre-nuptial agreement that upon divorcing
her, half of her Sheridans shares go to you. After a year you will
divorce her and by which time we will have a thirty percent share
of Sheridans. Enough to make a difference.’

‘
And what
about Tara’s feelings?’

‘
Tom you owe
me hundreds of thousands of pounds,’ Jackson said with that
terrifying, dead eyed stare. ‘If you don’t do this I will get the
money back in other ways. I know a lot of dangerous people and I
couldn’t possibly tell you what they might do to you or your mother
or indeed anyone else you might care for. Now, all we are asking
you to do is get Daniel Steadman’s shares. Marry Tara, live with
her for a year and then divorce her. After that you’re free to do
as you want and Montague Construction will be yours. What is so
hard about that?’

Tom had seen first hand
the sort of evil tricks his cousin was prepared to perform to get
his own way and didn’t doubt him for a second. He had no choice but
to agree to Jackson’s plans and it made him feel sick to the
stomach.

‘
Now,’
continued Bannerman. ‘Daniel Steadman is at Pinkertons most
evenings. It’s a Wednesday and you’re family so you’re going to
book a table for tonight and invite Tara up here for dinner. I have
a suite in the Olympia Hotel you can use and you’re going to spend
the night with her.’

‘
I-I can’t do
that,’ Tom uttered.

‘
Tom I thought
I told you what I’d do if you didn’t,’ Jackson replied. ‘As I said,
I will hurt people if you don’t go through with this.’

‘
When you get
the chance, talk to Dan,’ Bannerman said. ‘Mention you’ve come into
this money and you wondered if he’d be interested in selling his
shares.’

‘
And how did I
find out he owned twenty percent?’

‘
Michael told
you. There’s nothing wrong with admitting you’d met your own cousin
for lunch.’

‘
I guess
not.’

‘
There’s no
guess not about it. I want to get Sheridans back for
our
grandmother. She’s eighty next year, we don’t know how much longer
she has left. She deserves to die knowing her rightful inheritance
is back in her family’s hands. Whether you like it or not, you’re
part of that family Tom and you have a duty to help. For God’s sake
man, you’ve been a failure all your life, don’t you want to do
something to prove yourself?’

They parted at the
station with Bannerman giving Tom the number for Pinkertons -
Daniel’s restaurant in Soho. He went outside and sat down on the
huge flight of steps leading up to the main station entrance and
called from his mobile phone. He spoke to the receptionist at the
restaurant and made a booking for eight o’clock. A part of him
prayed Tara would say she was busy and couldn’t come up to London
that night and he would either cancel or call someone like Sadie up
and ask her instead.

Tara was in the office
and sounded chirpy when she picked up the phone.

‘
Tara
Eades.’

‘
Tara it’s
me,’ he said with a groan in his voice. ‘Look I was wondering if
you fancied coming up to London this evening. I thought we could go
for a meal at Pinkertons.’

‘
That sounds
wonderful,’ Tara gushed. ‘Thanks. Do you want me to book a
table?’

‘
No leave it
to me. Look, a friend of mine has a suite at the Olympia Hotel, I
thought we could stay overnight. I’ll sleep on the
sofa.’

‘
Sounds like
fun.’

‘
Okay, well
I’ll meet you at the hotel at seven o’clock.’

‘
I’ll be
there.’

Tom wandered along the
South Bank, looking out at the river, going back over what had just
happened with Jackson and Bannerman. He couldn’t even contemplate
doing what was expected of him. Tara had invested her trust in him
– something she found difficult - and he was supposed to abuse it.
Perhaps he could just marry her and stay married to her and give
the ten percent shares to Jackson without divorcing her. He stopped
and looked across at the Sheridans HQ on the other side of the
embankment, shocked with himself. For the first time ever he had
just contemplated marrying a girl and not for lust or revenge or
whatever. But because he loved her.

He spent the rest of the
day in Tate Modern, not even really looking at the art; just
killing time before meeting Tara that evening. He couldn’t face
going back to that flat in Knightsbridge – it just reminded him of
how he’d sold his soul to the Devil. With time to spare, he took
himself to Harrison’s, an exclusive salon in Jermyn Street. It was
members only and Jackson had ensured Tom join. There they gave him
a shave and a haircut and loaned him a suit for his dinner date
that evening. When he was finished, Tom looked in the mirror and
realised that for the past few months, a stranger had been staring
back at him. That clean cut, handsome, suave man wasn’t him. He was
Tom Montague – brought up by an unstable mother, educated at a
rough state school; a loser, a failed playwright, someone who
always mixed with society’s rejects – someone like his beloved
Tara. What had he done in accepting this mission? Now he had no way
out unless he was prepared to risk someone he cared about coming to
harm.

Walking towards the
Olympia Hotel, he was positive it was Tara waiting for him outside,
but she looked so different he couldn’t be sure. As he came closer
he saw it was her and she took his breath away. She wore a white
floral prom dress, a dark pink pashmina wrapped around her golden
shoulders. Her dark hair was pulled back into a ponytail and even
in his ignorant male state he could see she’d been plucked and made
up and polished and looked as beautiful as he’d always known she
was under all that shyness.

‘
T-Tara,’ he
uttered. ‘Oh my God you look beautiful.’

She giggled girlishly,
looking down at herself.

‘
I’m glad you
think so. Alex was supposed to be helping me with my makeover, but
she’s busy all the time, so I took myself into town and spent an
absolute fortune to look like this.’

‘
It’s worth
every penny. I’m speechless.’

Tom carried Tara’s
holdall into the hotel, observing the looks on the faces of the men
they passed, envious of him walking along with such a stunning girl
on his arm. His heart swelled with love for her and tears pricked
his eyes - regret at what an almighty fuck up he was making of his
life. He had finally found the girl of his dreams and yet he could
never have a normal relationship with her. Whatever they had, it
would be built upon deception.

They went up to the suite
owned by Maurice Bannerman. Tom almost booked into another room,
feeling this place was tainted. He thought better of it; he didn’t
put it past Bannerman to check up on him, see if he really had
turned up.

The room was beautiful, eleven
floors up, with views all over West London. Under different
circumstances it would have been romantic but instead, to Tom it
was just seedy and horrible. He watched the cars on the Hammersmith
flyover, snaking their way along the A4 towards the West and he
wished he could join them. He wanted to be anywhere but
here.

Oblivious to it all, Tara
paced around like a child.

‘
This is so
exciting,’ she gasped. ‘I can’t remember the last time I stayed in
a hotel in London.’

Tom gazed at her as she
looked out of the window and asked himself why he couldn’t have met
her under different circumstances. All his life, all those seedy
encounters with girls who he didn’t love and didn’t love him; girls
like Sadie with their kinky sexual tastes and repellent
personalities and here all the time was his distant cousin who was
so beautiful and pure and felt so right with him. And all he could
do now was destroy her. If he’d been a stronger man he would have
opened one of those windows and jumped right out.

She turned and looked at
him, frowning slightly.

‘
Are you okay
Tom?’ she asked.

‘
I was just
looking at you,’ he said, a stray tear falling onto his cheek.
‘You’re so beautiful.’

She smiled and walked
towards him, taking his hand in hers.

‘
I did it for
you,’ she whispered. ‘I wanted you to like me.’

‘
Oh Tara,’ he
sighed, stroking the side of her face. ‘I’ve always thought you
were lovely.’

His heart was so full he wanted
to confess all, risk the consequences just so he could have her
properly. He went to speak but she stopped him by reaching up and
kissing him on the lips. Like a teenager she pulled away, giggling
at what she’d done and her innocence made his heart melt. He pulled
her to him and kissed her properly, feeling her resistance as he
slipped his tongue into her mouth. Even though she was over thirty,
she was naïve and inexperienced and for once Tom had to be the one
in control.

She relaxed, wrapping her
arms around his neck and kissing him passionately in return. Tom
felt himself becoming aroused but at the same time it hit him where
he was; he was in Maurice Bannerman’s hotel room. This….kissing
Tara, loving her, wooing her, it was all part of an elaborate
repayment scheme for his loan from Jackson. It was
immoral.

He eased her away,
observing the puzzlement in those ebony eyes.

‘
Let’s not
rush things,’ he said softly. ‘There’s no hurry.’

‘
You don’t
want me,’ she frowned.

‘
I want you
more than anything Tara. But not like this. Not now. Come on, let’s
get going to the restaurant.’

Pinkertons was a famous
eatery in the heart of Soho. It had become a hangout for a lot of
gay A-listers and Daniel could cite Elton and David, George and
Kenny and Rupert Everett as regular diners. It was very smart and
yet casual at the same time. There were private booths as well as
large tables for groups. The décor was similar to a Greek taverna,
with hanging plants, patterned tiles and lots of candles melting
all over the place. As soon as Daniel spotted his sister and cousin
he made a bee-line for them, weaving his narrow hips through the
tables. He was a very good looking man - tall and dark, with
striking blue eyes. Indeed a lot like Andrew McDonald in that
ancient wedding photo.

After cooing about how
beautiful and glam his baby sister looked, he showed them to a
private booth quite close to the counter so he could pop and talk
to them when he had five minutes. From this viewpoint, Tom could
see the bar and noticed the draught beer was Sheridans. Dan brought
them over a bottle of house white and two glasses and promised to
come and chat later on.

‘
So does Dan
still want to open a branch of this in Cornwall then?’ Tom
reluctantly asked Tara.

‘
Yes. He’s
adamant he wants to retire there. He’s thirty-four for goodness
sake! I’ve been giving it some thought and wondered if Jem would be
interested in running this place.’

‘
Jemima? But
she’s got Antoine.’