Hold the Dream. Barbara Taylor Bradford

A pretty pair indeed, she thought disdainfully.

      Paula came to the end of her story at last, and finished with a tiny regretful sigh, ‘And there you have it, Grandy. I’m sorry it ended in a debacle. I did my best. More than my best.’

      ‘You certainly did,’ Emma said, looking her fully in the face, proud of her, thinking how she had progressed. A year ago Paula would have blamed herself for the breakdown in the talks. ‘You’ve nothing to reproach yourself for, and just chalk this one up to experience and learn from it.’

      ‘Yes, Grandy, I will.’ Paula regarded her closely. ‘What are you going to do now?’ she asked, continuing to study that impassive face in an effort to gauge her grandmother’s feelings about the Cross situation.

      ‘Why, nothing. Nothing at all.’

      Although she was not altogether surprised by this statement, Paula nevertheless felt bound to say, and a bit heatedly, ‘I thought that might be your attitude, but I can’t help wishing you’d give John Cross a piece of your mind, tell him what you think of him. Look at all the effort we put into this deal. He’s not only wasted our valuable time, but played us for a couple of fools.’

      ‘Played himself for a fool,’ Emma corrected, her voice low and without a trace of emotion. ‘Very frankly, I wouldn’t waste my breath, or the tuppence, on a phone call to him. There’s not much to be gained from flogging a dead horse. Besides, I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing I’m put out. There’s another thing … indifference is a mightily powerful weapon, and so I prefer to ignore Mr Cross. I don’t know what his game is, but I won’t be a party to it.’ The look Emma gave Paula was full of shrewdness and her eyes narrowed. ‘It strikes me that he might be using our offer to jack up the price with another company. He won’t succeed, he won’t have any takers.’ A cynical smile glanced across her face, and she laughed quietly to herself. ‘He’ll come crawling back to you, of course. On his hands and knees. And very soon. Then what will you do, Paula? That’s more to the point.’ Settling back against the cushions she let her eyes rest with intentness on her granddaughter.

      Paula opened her mouth to speak, then closed it swiftly. For a split second she hesitated over her answer. She asked herself how Grandy would act in these particular circumstances and then dismissed the question. She knew exactly what her course of action was going to be.

      In a resolute tone, Paula said, ‘I shall tell him to go to hell. Politely. I know I could hammer him down, get Aire Communications at a much lower figure, because when he does come back to us, and I agree that he will, he’ll be choking. He’ll accept any terms I offer. However, I don’t want to do business with that man. I don’t trust him.’

      ‘Good girl!’ Emma was pleased with this reply and showed it, then went on, ‘My sentiments exactly. I’ve told you many times that it’s not particularly important to like those with whom we do business. But there should always be an element of trust between both parties in any transaction, otherwise it’s begging for problems. I concur with what you think about Cross and that son of his. Their behaviour was appalling, unconscionable. I wouldn’t touch them with a ten-foot barge pole myself.’

      Despite these condemning words and the stern expression lingering on Emma’s face, her overall reaction had been so understated, so mild, Paula was still a trifle puzzled. ‘I thought you’d be much more annoyed than you are, Grandy, unless you’re not showing it. And you don’t seem very disappointed either,’ she said.

      ‘My initial anger soon changed to disgust. As for being disappointed, well, of course I am in some ways. But even that is being replaced by an enormous sense of relief. As much as I wanted Aire Communications, now, quite suddenly, I’m glad things turned out the way they did.’

      ‘I am too.’ There was the slightest hesitation on Paula’s part before she remarked quietly, ‘Sebastian Cross has become my enemy, Grandmother.’

      ‘So what!’ Emma exclaimed in a dismissive tone. ‘If he’s your first, he’s surely not going to be your last.’ As she spoke Emma became aware of the concern reflected in the lovely, deep-violet eyes fastened on hers, and she sucked in her breath quickly. Making an enemy troubles Paula, she thought, and she reached out and squeezed the girl’s arm, adopted a gentler tone. ‘As unpleasant as it may be, you’re bound to make enemies, as I myself did. Very frequently it happens through no fault of ours, that’s the sad part.’ Emma let out a tiny sigh. ‘So many people are jealous and envious by nature, and you will always be vulnerable to that kind, and a target, because you have so much. Wealth and power through me, not to mention your looks, your brains and your immense capacity for work. All very enviable attributes. You must learn to ignore the backbiting, darling, rise above it. As I have always done. And forget Sebastian Cross. He’s the least of your worries.’

      ‘Yes, you’re right on all counts, as usual, Grandmother,’ Paula said and pushed away the dismaying memory of those hard eyes which had filled with loathing for her that morning. She felt a shiver trickle through her. Sebastian Cross would do her harm if he could. This unexpected thought immediately seemed silly, farfetched and overly imaginative, and Paula laughed silently at herself, and dismissed such an idea.

      Rising, she crossed to the fireplace and stood warming her back for a moment or two. Her eyes swept around the lovely old room. It looked so peaceful, so gentle in the late afternoon sunlight filtering in through the many windows, with every beautiful object in its given place, the fire crackling merrily in the huge grate, the old carriage clock ticking away on the mantelpiece as it had for as long as she could remember. She had loved the upstairs parlour all of her life, had found comfort and tranquillity here. It was a room abundant with graciousness and harmony, where nothing ever changed, and it was this timelessness which made it seem so far removed from the outside world and all its ugliness. It’s a very civilized room, she said to herself, created by a very civilized and extraordinary woman. She looked across at Emma, relaxed on the sofa and so pretty in the pale blue dress, and her eyes became tender. Paula thought: she is an old woman now, in her eightieth year, yet she never seems old to me. She could easily be my age with her vigour and strength and zest and enthusiasm. And she is my best friend.

      For the first time since she had arrived, Paula smiled. ‘So much for my wheeling and dealing … skirmishing might be a better way to describe it, Grandy.’

      ‘And so much for my new project. Now that that’s flown out of the window, I’ll have to find another one, or take up knitting.’

      Paula could not help grinning. ‘That’ll be the day,’ she retorted, merriment swamping her face. Stepping back to the sofa, she sat down, lifted her cup and took a sip of tea, then remarked casually, ‘I had lunch with Miranda O’Neill today, and – ’

      ‘Oh dear, that reminds me, I’m afraid I won’t be here for dinner this evening. I’m going out with Blackie and Shane.’

      ‘Yes, so Merry told me.’

      ‘My God, can’t I take a breath around here without everyone knowing!’ Emma paused, scanned Paula’s face. ‘Well, you don’t seem too upset, so I presume you don’t mind that I’m trotting off and leaving you to cope with Edwina. Don’t worry, she’ll behave.’

      ‘I’m not concerned. I was at first, but I decided she’s Jim’s problem. He invited her, so he can entertain her. In any case, Mummy’s always pretty good with Edwina. She knows how to appropriately squelch her, in the nicest possible way too.’ Paula put down her cup and saucer, leaned closer. ‘Listen, Grandy dear, Merry has had an idea, one that might appeal to you. It could be just the project you’re looking for.’

      ‘Oh, has she. Well then, tell me about it.’

      Paula did so, but as she came to the end of her little recital she made a small moue with her mouth, and finished lamely, ‘I can tell you’re not enthusiastic. Don’t you think it’s a good idea?’

      Emma laughed at her crestfallen expression. ‘Yes, I do. However I’m not interested in taking it on as a personal project. Still, that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t pursue