Kingdom of Shadows. Barbara Erskine

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Название Kingdom of Shadows
Автор произведения Barbara Erskine
Жанр Классическая проза
Серия
Издательство Классическая проза
Год выпуска 0
isbn 9780007290673



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and Mary?’ She smiled at him fondly. ‘I had no idea you were based in London now.’

      ‘We’re just fine.’ Rex sighed. ‘Getting older. But that’s to be expected, I suppose.’

      She laughed. ‘You old fraud. You don’t look a day over forty.’

      ‘Well, I’m quite a bit older than that, honey.’ His face was sober for a moment. ‘A lot more than that. But let’s talk about you. What is it like, working for BCWP? Are they good people?’

      ‘The best. Well almost. We were number two, last year.’

      Rex frowned. ‘So, there’s no truth in the rumours that they’re undercapitalised.’

      Diane raised an eyebrow. ‘My, we have been doing our homework.’ She grinned. ‘No truth at all. The firm is solid. There were one or two shaky moments when they first set up, but not any more.’

      ‘I came across the name of one of your directors the other day.’ He glanced up at her under his eyebrows. ‘Paul Royland.’ He noticed the slight colouring of her cheeks and he frowned. ‘Do you know him at all well?’

      ‘I had dinner with him and his wife last weekend, actually.’ Diane eyed him cautiously. ‘Why do you want to know?’

      ‘Just curious to know what kind of people my goddaughter is working for.’ He grinned. ‘Is he a good business man, do you reckon?’

      ‘I don’t know.’ She glanced away. ‘He’s on the banking side, so I don’t see a lot of him.’

      ‘You just said you had dinner with him, Diane,’ his voice was softly wheedling. ‘You must know him quite well to have done that.’

      ‘I was taken, by one of his co-directors. Henry Firbank. We go out from time to time.’

      ‘I see.’ Rex leaned forward and steepled his fingers over his glass. ‘I see. So tell me, from what you know of him, would you say Paul Royland would be a good man to do business with?’

      Diane frowned. ‘Is that what you’re thinking of doing? Raising money through BCWP?’

      ‘Possibly. But I was thinking on a more personal level. I want to know if he’s sound.’ His voice had sharpened.

      She looked down. ‘So. This isn’t just a social lunch. You’ve asked me here for a reason. I might have guessed, you old fraud. You don’t change, do you? Well, the answer is I don’t know. There have been rumours.’ She glanced up at him, uncomfortable now with his questions. ‘I shouldn’t tell you any of this, Rex.’

      ‘It won’t go any further, honey.’ He reached over the table and took her hand. ‘But I need to know.’

      ‘Well,’ she hesitated again. ‘Henry would never say anything, he’s too loyal, but I know Paul’s sister, Emma, quite well, and she’s let slip a few things. Her husband is on the Far East desk, and she has no idea of how to keep tactful silence about things he’s told her about the office.’ She smiled fondly. ‘And of course, Peter only tells her because she is Paul’s sister! Peter thinks that there may have been trouble about the Hannington takeover, when the price dropped when they had the strike. Do you remember? The shares shot up and there were screams of insider dealing. Then the takeover fell through. I suspect Paul lost a lot of money over that deal. I think he can be less than shrewd sometimes.’

      ‘But you like him anyway.’ Rex raised an eyebrow.

      ‘Is it that obvious?’

      ‘Only to me. I’ve known you too long. So, what about his wife?’

      Diane sighed. ‘She is rich and stunningly beautiful. I would never stand a chance.’

      ‘You too are stunningly beautiful, my Diane.’ He smiled at her, raising his glass. ‘Do you like her?’

      Diane shrugged. ‘I’m not sure, to be honest. She’s strange. A bit vague.’

      ‘And what is his sister like, apart from garrulous?’

      ‘Nice. You’d get on well with her.’

      ‘And is she close to her brother?’ He made the question casual.

      Diane laughed. ‘She can’t stand him. Poor Emma. Like Clare she is not really a City wife. Neither of them fit in. They don’t know what to talk about.’

      ‘And yet you get on with her.’

      ‘Perhaps that’s because I’m different too.’ She grinned. ‘I’m a woman and I’m American. That makes me an outsider in the City as well. Why are you showing such an interest in the Roylands, Rex? Are you sure it’s just business?’

      ‘I’m interested in you, honey. That’s all. I want to know all about you. It’s been too long since we’ve seen you. I tell you what. Why don’t you bring your boyfriend – Henry, did you say he was called? – to dinner one evening. Mary would be thrilled with that …’

      ‘What the hell do I do, James?’ Clare’s knuckles were white on the receiver. She had dialled her brother’s number before Geoffrey’s car had vanished down the drive.

      ‘Sell, Clare. You’d be crazy not to. They don’t have to buy, you know. They could just apply for a licence to drill. And there would be nothing you could do about it. The oil isn’t yours, sis.’

      ‘What do you mean, it isn’t mine?’

      ‘Oil belongs to the country, Clare. They can take it, whatever you say. My guess is that this company wants the land and the hotel to ease the hassle. But they’ll get the oil if the government grants them a licence.’

      ‘I don’t believe you!’

      ‘It’s true, Clare.’

      ‘Have you been talking to Paul about this?’

      ‘He asked me about Duncairn. He can’t understand why you didn’t want to sell.’

      ‘So he decided to sell over my head! That’s what it sounds like.’

      ‘Well, he can’t do that, so don’t panic. No one can force you to sell or sell without your consent. Married Women’s Property Act and all that!’

      She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. ‘You are sure?’

      ‘Paul must have told him you are ill as an excuse to start negotiating on your behalf. All you have to do is ring this man and deny it.’

      ‘I can’t. I threw away the letter. I can’t remember the solicitor’s name …’

      James looked heavenwards. ‘Ask the florist, Clare, but I think you’ll find that the firm is called Sigma.’

      Rex phoned her back as soon as he got back to his office. ‘Mrs Royland. How are you?’ He sat down at his desk and leaned back, staring out at the murky sky.

      ‘I’m very well, Mr Cummin. Thank you for the flowers, but they weren’t necessary. And I’m afraid you are under a misapprehension. I have not changed my mind about selling Duncairn. It is not and never will be for sale. And if my husband has led you to believe that he is empowered to act on my behalf he is misleading you. He has no authority to act for me. None at all.’ She could feel the receiver slipping in her hand. ‘Please leave us alone, Mr Cummin. There is no oil at Duncairn.’

      ‘Ah. There, my dear lady, you are wrong. There is oil there.’

      ‘Then leave it there. This country doesn’t need any more oil.’

      ‘There is always demand for oil, Mrs Royland.’ He leaned forward on the desk, easing his weight on the chair. ‘Why don’t you and I meet? I’d like to explain things to you, tell you our schedule, put your mind at rest. I could show you my plans for the hotel and the castle. I think you’d like what I have in mind. I’m a Scot by descent, Mrs Royland. I care about that castle as much as you do.’