I turned the telly off as the end credits ran. ‘You want first shot in the bathroom?’ Liam asked.
‘No,’ I replied. ‘You go ahead. I’ve got one thing left to do.’
I’d put my phone to sleep during dinner, so I wakened it and checked to see if I’d missed any calls or texts. I hadn’t so I used it to call the landline number in St Martí, and punched in a code to interrogate my voicemail there.
I had two messages. The first was from Miles, my brother-in-law.
‘Hi, Primavera,’ he began. There’s virtually no Australian left in his accent; today it’s nearly all Californian. ‘I just had a call from your father, telling me about Susie. That’ll be bad news for Tom even more than for you, but I guess you parted on good terms, since David said she’s made you chairman of her company. If there’s any help I can give you, or any advice on your new role, you just have to pick up the phone. Say hi to our nephew, from us and his cousin.’ I thought he was done, but he carried on. ‘By the way, I spoke to an old acquaintance of yours a while back, Liam Matthews. He’s at a bit of a crossroads in his life. His partner left him for somebody else a while back, and he’s been on a bit of a downer ever since. He told me he was going travelling, and it struck me that you two might be good for each other, so, I hope you don’t mind, I took a big chance and suggested he looked you up. Don’t be surprised if he does.’
Miles’s offer made me feel good, although I’d always been confident that he’d be there for me if needed. So did the second part of his message.
The other call was much more disturbing. It was from Oz’s father, Grandpa Mac, and he was far from cool and composed.
‘Primavera,’ he barked. ‘I’ve just heard about Susie. I didn’t even know she was ill. You think somebody would have told me since she’s the mother of two of my grandchildren. But maybe not, since she and I were never the best of friends after the way she split you and Oz up. Anyway, what’s this about her having married again? Did you know about it? And how does it affect Janet and wee Jonathan? I’ve called Monaco, of course. I spoke to Janet … Hardly recognised her. God, she’s grown up … and I asked to speak to this man Culshaw, but Audrey said he wouldn’t take my call. Then I remembered the guy. He came to see me last year, to interview me for a book he claimed to be writing based on Oz’s life. I didn’t take to him, so I didn’t tell him much. I’ve heard neither hide nor hair of him since, or of the book, and now he shows up married to Susie and claiming to be my grandchildren’s guardian! What the fuck’s going on, Primavera? Call me as soon as you get this, please.’
Mac is normally a placid guy, as laid-back as Oz was until Jan died and everything started to change. But when he goes off on one, he goes, and you see the side of him that Ellie’s inherited. I’d decided that it was too late to phone him back and that I’d do it in the morning, when I realised that my suite-mate was standing in the doorway, leaning casually against the jamb, barefoot and shirtless but still in his jeans.
‘Everything okay?’ he asked.
‘Just hold that pose,’ I ordered.
I took a photograph with my phone and sent it straight to Miles, with a message that read, ‘At a crossroads, did U say? Gone travelling? We’ll see about that.’
And then I took him to bed, and gave him good cause to stay put for a while.
I’d hoped to sleep until seven thirty, giving me time to be completely ready for the meeting but my sister knocked that on the head by calling my mobile at six forty-five. My ringtone is Bruce Springsteen’s ‘Born to Run’. But I’m usually awake when it goes off.
I woke and sat bolt upright within a couple of seconds, and for a few more I was very disorientated. Christ, there was a man lying beside me and we were both naked! Then everything fell into place, and I snatched the phone from the bedside table much too late to prevent Liam from stirring.
I swiped the screen to take the call, rolling out of bed as I did so. ‘Do you know what fucking time it is, Dawn?’ I mumbled.
‘Quarter to ten here,’ she replied cheerfully. ‘You’re lucky I didn’t call you straight away, after you sent Miles that photo. What have you been up to? Or were you still up to it? Did I interruptus the coitus?’ Those are the only two Latin words that ever stuck in Dawn’s head. The rest passed all the way through, largely unimpeded.
‘No, you did not,’ I told her, firmly.
‘Prove it, then. Put me on video. Ever since you and Oz caught Miles and me on the job in your flat I’ve been waiting for a chance to get even.’
‘Bugger off!’
‘How did it happen?’ she laughed. ‘Did he drug you? I thought you were off men forever.’
‘So did I, but I’m glad to say I was wrong. Now go away. I have some serious business to do this morning. We’re in Glasgow and I have to chair a board meeting later.’
‘Yes, of course.’ Her tone changed completely. ‘Tragic about Susie.’ ‘Tragic’ is another Dawnism, but for once it was accurate. ‘Call me later and we can have a longer chat.’
‘I will do,’ I promised. ‘In six or seven hours.’ I ended the call, leaving her to do the sum on her fingers. (Actually my sister isn’t that dumb; that’s just a game we’ve played since she was a kid.)
I put the phone down and got back into bed. ‘Does that happen every morning in your life?’ Liam asked.
I slid up against him, and my eyes widened. ‘No,’ I replied, ‘but I hope that does in yours.’
By the time we’d done something about it, I was on the schedule I’d set for myself. I showered and did all the other morning stuff, then dug my laptop from its bag and logged on to the hotel’s wireless network. Audrey had promised to send me a briefing for the meeting, most importantly the minutes of the last two … they were usually held quarterly … and the latest set of management accounts, that Susie received on a monthly basis.
Once I’d downloaded them, I called Tom. He was awake and I could hear Daybreak in the background. His interest in the female presenter seems to be growing; it’s a toss-up between her and the witch in Merlin as to who’s his top girl. A sign of the times. I asked him to join us for room service breakfast at eight thirty, then called to order it. With all that done, I began to study Audrey’s documents.
The minutes didn’t tell me anything that I didn’t know in broad terms already. As Tom’s guardian I had oversight of the equity in the company that he’d inherited from Oz, and so I received all the company’s shareholder communications, and was aware of its business. The Gantry Group was split into divisions: property management, leisure and development. It owned a large portfolio of economic rent housing, commercial offices, retail parks and a chain of pubs and boutique hotels; they made up the first two divisions. The development side held its construction interests, in private housing for owner-occupation, factories and commercial buildings.
Given that knowledge, what was in the minutes was mostly old news, apart from one reference to a projected golf course-cum-country club down in Ayrshire: that, I hadn’t heard of. (Yes, I know, ‘they’ say you shouldn’t end a sentence with a preposition, but I have news for ‘them’: language evolves.)
No, it was the management accounts that would give me a detailed insight into how the group was actually running, and how sound its trading position really was. I scanned through them; the information was detailed and it showed that while the group was sound, across the board, it was no more recession-proof than any other company. The rental houses were fine, but there were a number of voids … empty units … in the office and retail holdings that were pulling down the profits of those sectors. The pubs and hotels were washing their face, but their profit contribution was way below what it should have been, given the value of the assets.