Winner Takes It All (7 page)

‘
Grandmother,’
Jackson said reverently. ‘This is Tom, your other
grandson.’

With liver spotted hands,
Sorcha levered herself from her chair and walked over to Tom. She
wore an expensive looking floaty blouse and slacks, which, along
with her over made up, strangely stretched face, made her look like
a clown. Tom did all he could not to giggle.

‘
Thomas,’ was
all she said. Gripping her chin, she looked him up and down with an
expression upon on her face as if she was expecting to find he had
cloven hooves or horns growing out of his head just because he was
poor and his father a Catholic.

‘
You’re more
handsome than I imagined,’ she said, her voice had that same
American intonation as Jackson’s and yet sounded cut-glass English
at the same time. She looked him in the eye, her gaze steely, with
just a glimmer of some sort of emotion. ‘And how is that mother of
yours?’ she asked.

‘
Mum? Oh she’s
just started a part-time job teaching art at a school in
Islington.’

‘
A state
school I presume.’

‘
Yes.’

‘
I should have
known. That girl was always such a disappointment to me.’ She
smiled as best she could, reaching up and stroking Tom’s face.
‘Maybe you’ll be able to make up for her.’

Lunch was to be served in
Sorcha’s grand dining room at the back of the house. It looked out
over her small but ornate garden that seemed to be filled with
roses. Upon the wall hung a portrait of Tom’s grandfather, Lord
Rupert Montague. He looked like the usual upper-class chinless
wonder and from what Fiona had told him, it seemed Sorcha had
completely worn the trousers in their relationship. Hardly
surprising now meeting her.

Tom was allowed to sit
next to his grandmother, opposite them were Jackson and Aunt
Annabel. Tom was familiar with his aunt. Much to Sorcha’s
annoyance, the sisters had remained friends and she had often
visited Camden when in the UK. Annabel looked so different to her
mother with her jet black hair and refined features. She was also
very quiet and had perfected that knack a lot of rich women had of
being seen and not heard. Something Fiona had always refused to
subscribe to.

There was another guest
at the table, a man called Maurice Bannerman. He was a rather
suave, slimy character who kept trying to flirt with Annabel. At
first, he was introduced as a family friend, but as the meal began
and the wine flowed, tongues became looser and soon Tom’s mission
was being laid before him.

‘
Maurice is on
the board of directors of Sheridans,’ Sorcha announced, waving her
wine glass in the direction of the younger man. ‘He’s going to help
you with your mission Tom.’

‘
We want you
to infiltrate the family Tom,’ Bannerman said, taking over from
Sorcha. ‘I know everything that’s happening on a business level,
but you will be the key to the family.’

‘
They won’t
want to know me,’ Tom protested. ‘I’m a Sheridan.’

‘
Yes but
you’re the black sheep of the family,’ Jackson insisted. ‘That’s
going to be your strength.’

‘
Let me
explain a little about the family,’ Bannerman continued, his voice
clearly tense with excitement. ‘Louisa and Ben Cusack had four
children; Paula, the eldest, she runs a charity for victims of
Domestic Violence and has nothing to do with Sheridans except the
ten per cent shares her mother left her in her will. Then there’s
Christian Cusack, he’s a very old friend of mine, we went to Harrow
together.’

‘
And yet you
want to double cross him!’ Tom couldn’t help but laugh.

‘
Maurice has
his reasons,’ Sorcha snapped. ‘Don’t be so rude.’

Chastened, Tom shut up
and let Bannerman continue.

‘
Chris has
been running Sheridans since Louisa bought the company from your
great aunt Bridget thirty four years ago. I have to be honest and
admit he’s done a fantastic job. When he took it over, they were
struggling and losing contracts with pubs all over the country. Now
Sheridans are only second to Virgin in terms of the entertainment
business. HHHis younger brother Hal runs Cusacks, his father’s firm
and finally there’s Lucy, the youngest daughter. She’s an author
and looks after Louisa Cusack’s estate, managing the rights to her
books and the like. They’re a very close family, but Paula’s family
– the Eades, do their own thing. Her eldest son by her first
marriage runs a restaurant with his gay partner, but it’s Tara, her
daughter, I want you to target.’

‘
Target?’
frowned Tom. ‘That sounds sinister. I really don’t think
I…’

‘
Nonsense
Thomas!’ Sorcha barked. ‘All I’m asking is that you go to work for
the girl.’

‘
For some time
Tara has been looking for an estate manager to help her run
things,’ Bannerman explained. ‘She’s a rather shy, introverted girl
and can’t seem to make a decision. Tarrant Hanratty are the agents
dealing with the appointment and everyone they’ve sent has been
unsuitable in some way. I think Tara feels she’ll be letting the
family down if she takes on the wrong person. I’ve told the agency
that you will be applying and they will be talking to Tara before
your interview and do all they can to persuade her to take you on.
The rest is up to you.’

‘
But I’ve
never done such a thing,’ Tom uttered. ‘And what if you’re wrong
and she doesn’t want to know me?’

‘
There’s
little chance of that Tom,’ Bannerman said. ‘I’ve known the Cusacks
for many years and blood is always thicker than water with them.
Despite you being Sorcha’s grandchild, you’ve got Sheridan blood in
you, the same as Tara has. You share the same great great great
great grandfather. If you can prove to her you have nothing to do
with this branch of the family, that you’ve never met your
grandmother or had anything to do with her, Tara will believe
you.’

‘
That family
have got secrets and I want to know what they are,’ Sorcha
declared, her voice tinged with just the slightest hint of madness.
‘You see that bitch Louisa Cusack ruined everything for me. She
took my inheritance and - I can say it now both my beloved Rupert
and Trent are dead - she took the only man I ever loved. Ben Cusack
should have been mine but that common little tart came along, got
pregnant by him and made him marry her. She was a cruel, ruthless
woman who trampled upon anyone who got in her way, and not only do
I want her company destroyed, I want her memory destroyed as
well.’

Tom had to stifle a
giggle. All this sounded like one of those God awful mini series
his mother used to watch in the eighties. He couldn’t believe he
was becoming embroiled in one himself.

‘
I want you to
uncover those secrets Tom. Get under the skin of that family and
find out what you can.’

‘
So how will
that ruin Sheridans?’

‘
Leave that to
me,’ Marcus nodded wisely. ‘I’m the man on the inside and as things
progress I will keep you in the loop. But let’s just say, I know
every deal Christian Cusack is planning on making and I happen to
sit on the boards of other companies that might just be interested
in his acquisitions.’

‘
Montague
Construction, your grandfather’s company is a large company,’
Sorcha interjected. ‘As my oldest grandchild, that company should
go to you. If you successfully help Maurice and Jackson take over
Sheridans, I will leave all my shares to you in my
will.’

‘
That’s very
kind of you grandmother but I’ve no interest in running a
construction company.’

‘
You’ll only
own it. You can have whoever you want running it. All the profits
will be yours; giving you all the money you need to live on so you
can concentrate on your writing. Sheridans will go to
Jackson.’

‘
But how am I
going to convince this Tara that I can run an estate?’

Bannerman lifted a piece
of paper from the table, which was clearly a CV.

‘
You’ve worked
as an estate manager at Troyton House for six years. Prior to that,
you worked at the Museum of the City of London.’

‘
But I’ll need
references.’

‘
Well it’s
just lucky that my son in law owns Troyton House and I’m good
friends with the owner of the Museum isn’t it?’ Bannerman smiled
like a wolf.

‘
This is a
total head trip,’ Tom laughed. ‘I don’t know if I’ll be able to
pull it off, but I’ll give it a bloody good go.’

Five

The older Cusacks decided
to stay away from Joanna’s twenty-first birthday celebration. She
was home from university and the last thing she wanted to do was
party with her dad, stepmum and aunts and uncles. She’d wanted to
go somewhere different and Mel had suggested Chicken Coup, the gay
club off Shaftesbury Avenue that her friend ran. It was one of
Dan’s favourite clubs and he offered to DJ for the night. In his
gap year before he went to university he’d worked in Pascha in
Ibiza and by the end of his time there he had his own night of a
Monday so he knew what he was doing.

Alex arrived alone. A
night listening to cheesy Europop was hardly Tim’s thing, and even
if he wasn’t furious with Alex, he’d have still remained at home.
They both knew their relationship was reaching the end of the road
but neither had the courage to say it. When she’d come home from
her shopping trip with Mel and showed Tim the clothes she’d bought,
he went mad, asking why she wanted to look like a streetwalker.
Alex reminded him that she just looked how she had when he’d first
met her and couldn’t keep his hands off her.

Mel had orchestrated
Alex’s make-over, but all she’d done was restore her friend back to
her former beauty. At Toni and Guy’s she had her fluffy hair dyed
back to it’s usual light gold. For years Alex had got all her
clothes from Mother Earth, the boutique run by Tim’s’ friend Skye,
who sold clothes that were practical, in neutral colours and made
with ethically sourced fabrics. Mel reintroduced her to Top Shop,
All Saints, Diesel, French Connection and a host of other high
street names. Dressing in short skirts, jeans and strappy dresses
made Alex feel as though she was emerging from a deep sleep and for
the first time in ages she actually felt excited about the
future.

She walked in to Chicken
Coup to find Simon, Dan’s partner on the dancefloor, wriggling
around to
Spacer
by Sheila B Devotion. Alex laughed, threw
him a wave and headed for the bar where she poured herself a large
glass of champagne. She needed something to steady her nerves, she
was still smarting from the row she’d had with Tim before leaving
the house. When he’d seen the dark red shift dress with knee length
black boots she was wearing, he’d launched into another lecture. He
took no notice of her when she said she felt sexy and confident and
that if she was hoping to one day be the head of Sheridans,
confidence was pretty important.

When he hadn’t been able
to win the argument, Tim had launched another tirade at the
location of the party. He hated dance music and felt these gay
clubs were nothing more than meat markets that perpetuated the
stereotype of gay men being sexual predators just interested in
dancing, having a good time and pulling casual partners. By now
Alex had heard enough and walked out.

Alex didn’t miss Tim.
Instead she felt as though she’d been released from prison; able to
enjoy the company of her family and friends. She knew she couldn’t
get too drunk because tomorrow she and Mel were heading up to
Liverpool to meet Jack Byrne, Mel’s cousin. It would have to be a
whistle-stop because that evening, the two girls were flying out to
Ibiza for four days to look at the Felicidades Complex with a view
to building a hotel there. Alex was so excited at how quickly
things were moving and was so glad she had Mel at her side. She’d
also taken on a secretary called Naseem and an accountant called
Trevor who was helping her manage her money. It was a small team,
but Alex was confident that for now they’d be able to
cope.

Looking round, she
spotted her brother, conked out on a sofa. No doubt he had been
burning the midnight oil and was exhausted. Hating herself for it,
Alex was quite glad to see Michael looking a complete mess. She
loved her brother to bits, but he was now her competitor and the
more a catastrophe his life became, the more chance she had of
making a success of herself.

She was shocked to see
her cousin Tara at the party. She was such a timid little mouse, it
was hard to envisage her at a club like this. Alex always thought
it such a shame with Tara. She had the potential to be absolutely
stunning. She was tall and thin like Paula, and with her coffee
coloured skin and huge brown eyes she could have been a model.
Instead she kept her long, dark hair in two plaits either side of
her head and even on an occasion like this, her choice of outfit
was a black long sleeved t-shirt and jeans. Alex had no
recollection of Tara ever having a boyfriend. She seemed to prefer
rattling around in Claremont Hall and running errands for Andrew
McDonald.

Right now she stood at
one side of the room, clutching what was no doubt a non-alcoholic
drink, watching everyone else having fun. She was thirty going on
fifty-five and Alex couldn’t help but feel sorry for her. She made
her way over to her, wondering if she should pick her up a bottle
of beer in the process; she then decided against it, Tara would
only probably pour it down the toilet.