‘How do you feel about that?’ I asked her.
‘I don’t know. I don’t like him, especially when he drinks. Wee Jonathan hates him; he’s scared of him. He said he told you about him hitting Tom.’
I nodded. ‘And about what happened afterwards. You won’t have any more trouble with him, not that kind anyway. Duncan’s not a fool; he knows that Tom’s getting bigger and stronger every day, and that he’d protect you two.’
‘But Tom’s not always there,’ she pointed out. ‘If Duncan ever hits Jonathan …’ I caught a flash of her father in her eyes.
‘I’m sure he wouldn’t. But if he ever does, or threatens to, you should tell your mother or you should tell Conrad. Okay?’
‘Okay,’ she whispered, then paused. ‘Auntie Primavera,’ she ventured, ‘what is leukaemia?’
‘It’s a disease of the blood or bone marrow,’ I replied. ‘It can affect your immune system, make you susceptible to infections and so on.’
She frowned. ‘You mean like AIDS?’
In spite of everything, I smiled. ‘No, nothing like that. AIDS is a sexually transmitted disease. Leukaemia’s … different. It’s just bad luck, really.’
‘Can people die from it?’
Deep breath time, Auntie P. ‘Yes, they can,’ I admitted, ‘but many, many people survive. And new treatments are being developed all the time. Your mum’s been looked after at one of the finest clinics in the world. She couldn’t be in better hands.’ I reached across and touched her knee. ‘She’s had her therapy,’ I said, ‘and now it’s up to her to get better. We’ve all got to help in that. Me, by looking out for you lot when I have to, and by doing some business stuff she’s asked me to take on. Duncan, by making her home life as easy as possible. You, by being as strong for her as you can be and by getting on with Duncan, even if it goes against the grain. You up for that?’
‘Of course I am,’ she replied, instantly.
I swung myself upright and stood, reaching for my shirt and shorts. ‘You’ve got a lot to take in,’ I told her. ‘It’s not fair that you should have to at your age, but life isn’t fair. As my old dad is very fond of saying, you will find no warranty or guarantees anywhere on your birth certificate.’ I nodded downwards at the lounger as I finished dressing. ‘D’you want some time on your own? Do some thinking and top up your tan?’
‘That would be nice.’
‘Okay then, but mind you use my sunscreen. Don’t stint yourself either.’ I tossed her the bottle and left her to it.
The door of Tom’s room was open as I passed. He was in full big brother mode, giving wee Jonathan a drubbing at a computer football game. I left them to it and went down to the kitchen, to fetch myself a bottle of water from the fridge. Conrad was there, his mobile held to his ear.
‘Okay,’ I heard him say. ‘Call me when you’re wheels down at Nice.’ He ended the call and put the phone back in his pocket.
‘Audrey?’ I asked.
He nodded. ‘They leave Arizona tomorrow. She’s worried; she doesn’t think that Susie’s fit to fly, and neither does her doctor. He’s advising that she stay in his care for another week at the very least, but Susie’s having none of it and Duncan’s agreeing with her. He’s an idiot, Primavera. Audrey said he gave her a whole bottle of champagne last night. She can hardly eat and he’s pouring bloody Veuve Cliquot down her neck.’
‘Yes,’ I said, ‘I know. But she’s not giving him complete control of her life, and no sight of the business at all.’
‘Yes, Audrey did say that she’s just sent a statement to the group’s financial PR firm for issue to the Stock Exchange on Monday morning. She said it’ll surprise a few people, not least the new husband.’
And Audrey’s husband, I thought, but if she hadn’t filled him in on the detail, I couldn’t either.
‘She asked me to tell you that she’s sending you a document by email. She wants you to sign it and fax it back to her. She was very specific about that. You have to fax it.’
‘I can do that. I still have a fax, although it’s ages since I used it.’
‘She said also that Susie was speaking to Janet,’ Conrad went on. ‘I take it that’s what you and she were doing upstairs.’
‘Yes. Susie came clean with her.’
‘How clean? Did she tell her how sick she really is?’
I shook my head ‘No, she kept it positive. But you: do you know how sick she really is, Conrad?’
‘I fear so,’ he sighed. ‘Audrey’s with her every day. She says she’s skin and bone. It’s not going to end well, Primavera, is it?’
‘No, it isn’t. And Susie knows it. That’s why she’s asked me to do certain things for her. But there’s one thing I want you to do for her that she might not ask. Keep an eye on Mr Culshaw.’
‘Oh, I will,’ he assured me, ‘as close an eye as I can. He might say I’m his new best friend, but I don’t believe him. I’m sure that he’d get rid of me tomorrow if he could, and Audrey for that matter.’
‘Well, he can’t,’ I told him firmly. ‘You said it yourself; you have contracts of employment with the Gantry Group, not with Susie personally and certainly not with him.’
‘Yes, but …’ He didn’t have to spell out what he was thinking.
‘But nothing. He will never get a toehold in that business.’
‘I wish I was as sure as you.’
‘Come Monday, you might be … and don’t ask me to explain that.’
I left him to ponder and went to the office to check my email. Sure enough there was one from Audrey, covering three documents. One was the announcement of my appointment and hers, and another was a letter for my signature confirming that I was prepared to accept appointment as chairperson of the Gantry Group PLC, with a space for a second signature, that of a witness. The third attachment was a power of attorney giving me authority to instruct her solicitor in setting up a trust to administer the shareholdings and other bequeathed assets of Tom Blackstone, Janet Blackstone and Jonathan Blackstone. It was signed by Susie and witnessed and notarised by an American attorney. Thorough, Susie, I thought.
I printed off all three documents, signed the confirmation letter, then took it through to the front terrace, where Conrad was sitting. ‘I’d like you to read and witness that, please,’ I asked.
His eyes widened as he scanned it, but that was his only reaction, until he’d added his signature and passport number. Then he looked up and nodded. ‘Congratulations, boss,’ he murmured.
‘Don’t,’ I said. ‘That’s probably the saddest piece of paper I’ve ever had to sign.’
Nine
I was so consumed by what had happened in the afternoon that I almost forgot I had a dinner date.
Audrey called me as soon as she’d received the fax. ‘Susie says she wants you to call a board meeting in Glasgow on Tuesday; if you can make that, she says I have to get in touch with Wylie Smith and have him set it up. Can you?’
‘If I can take Tom with me, yes. His school term’s over. But can you make it? It’s Saturday and you’re still in Arizona.’
‘Sure,’ she replied, as confident and assertive as ever. ‘I’ll see Susie safely home on Monday morning, then catch a direct flight from Nice to Edinburgh in the afternoon. I can get you and Tom into the same airport at around the same time. We can meet up, take a taxi or hire a car and check into a hotel in Glasgow for the night. Sound okay?’
‘Sounds brilliant,’ I told her. ‘Go ahead. But book a car, in my name, for I’ll have other stuff to do in Scotland and part of it will involve seeing Oz’s dad … and mine, while I’m there.’
‘Will do. When do you want to come back?’
‘Make it Saturday, to be on the safe side.’
‘Fine. Primavera,’ she added, after a few seconds, ‘are you all right about this? The business side, I mean.’