‘About my age.’
‘That’s young to be in his position.’
‘He relies a lot on family influence,’ Primo said, ruthlessly sacrificing his own reputation.
‘It’s going to take a lot of work filling this notebook. I’ll need a section for his interests, clothes-’
‘He’s a fancy dresser. More money than sense. Ah, but I forgot. You’re not interested in his money.’
‘That’s right. I just want to run him to earth, rope and brand him-’
‘And generally get him in a state of total subjection.’
‘You got it. And then-’
‘Olympia, could we possibly drop the subject of Primo Rinucci?’ he asked plaintively. ‘He really isn’t a very interesting man.’
‘I’m sorry. Of course he isn’t interesting to you.’
The waiter, proffering the sweet menu, saved him from having to answer, and after that he managed to divert her on to another subject.
At last she said, ‘Maybe we should go. I should go to work tomorrow, to impress the boss.’
‘But it is Sunday and he isn’t here.’
‘I meant you.’
‘Yes, right-I’m getting confused. Let’s go.’
On the way home they talked in a relaxed, disjointed way, then made the last part of the journey in silence. When he drew up and looked over to her he saw that she was asleep.
Her breathing was so soft that he could hardly hear it. She slept like a contented child, her face softened, all the tension smoothed out. There was even a faint smile on her lips, as though she’d found a rare moment of contentment.
He moved closer, charmed by the way her long black lashes lay against her cheek. If this had been any other woman, on any other night, he would have leaned down and laid his mouth against hers, teasing gently until she awoke and her lips parted under his. Then he would have taken her into his arms, letting her head rest against his shoulder and her hair spread out, flowing over his arm.
They would have held each other for a long moment before he finally murmured a question and she whispered her assent. Then, perhaps, they would have made their way together up to her apartment and closed the door behind them.
So many evenings had ended that way, in tenderness, pleasure and passion. But not with her.
With this woman passion was forbidden. Only tenderness was allowed, and so he watched her silently for several minutes, holding her hand but making no other move, until she opened her eyes and he said, in a shaking voice, ‘I think you should go upstairs now. You won’t mind if I don’t escort you to your door, will you?’
He watched her walk into the building and kept his eyes on the windows he knew were hers until he saw the lights go on. Then he drove away quickly while he was still safe.
CHAPTER FIVE
AS DAWN broke Olympia became half awake, seeming to exist in a limbo where there were no facts, only feelings and misty uncertainties, but they were very sweet. Perhaps more sweet for being undefined.
She seemed to be back in his car, dozing as they made the journey home. She couldn’t see or hear him, but she was intensely aware of him. When he took her hand in his she was pervaded by a sense of deep contentment, as though she had come home to a place of safety, where lived the only person who understood.
She was smiling as she opened her eyes.
For once, the hours ahead of her were unknown, the decisions in the hand of someone else. After only two days he already seemed to fill her world. She was looking forward to the moment when she would meet him today and see in his eyes that he remembered last night, how they’d laughed and gazed into each other’s minds and recognised what they found there.
When the phone rang she snatched it up eagerly.
‘Olympia?’
‘Jack? I knew it would be you.’
‘Why? Did the ring sound impatient?’
She laughed, feeling excited. He was impatient to see her. He’d called to suggest a meeting today.
‘Well, yes,’ she said. ‘It did sound a little impatient.’
‘That’s because I’m going through books and realising how much there is to do. If I spend the rest of the day working I’ll just be ready to leave tomorrow. It ought to be today, of course, but since it’s Sunday it’ll have to wait.’
‘Did you say you were leaving?’ she asked, in shock, as much because of his businesslike tone as his words.
‘I need to see the rest of the Curtis empire.’
‘Empire? You mean the two other tiny factories?’
‘That’s right. I’ve studied them on-line and through correspondence. Now I want you to show them to me. Pack clothes for several days away, and I’ll collect you first thing tomorrow. Bye for now.’
He hung up without further discussion, leaving her wondering if he was the same man as the night before.
The impression was reinforced when they met the next day. He was pleasant but impersonal. The evening they had spent together might never have happened.
Hadson’s, the first factory, was in the south. As he drove they discussed business, how this small, out of the way place had come to be acquired, the computer peripherals that it made, how economic was it. Olympia spoke carefully, unwilling to be the one who revealed the awkward truth about Hadson’s, which was that it was too small to survive. He would see it soon enough.
‘You’ve gone very quiet,’ he said at last.
‘I’ve given you the facts and figures, but you need to form your own impression.’
To her relief he didn’t press her further.
‘Shall I call to say we’re coming?’
‘No, it’s better to take them by surprise,’ he replied coolly.
In another hour they reached the little village of Andelwick and went to the factory, where the surprise was very obvious. So was the alarm, almost fear. Introducing the forty staff, Olympia praised every one of them individually, trying to keep a pleading note out of her voice. Sounding desperate would not help them.
He was charming to everyone and invited the three senior staff to lunch. There he drew facts and figures out of them with skill and so much subtlety that they might not have guessed what lay behind it. But they did, Olympia realised with a sinking heart. They already knew the worst.
When they were alone he looked at her and said, ‘Hmm!’
‘Don’t you dare say “Hmm!” to me,’ she exploded. ‘I know what you’re thinking.’
‘I’m thinking we’re going to have to stay overnight. Is there a good hotel?’
‘No hotels in this tiny place, but The Rising Sun does rooms. It’s a nice pub, basic but clean, and the food’s great. It’s just down the road.’
‘Fine. Will you go there now and do the bookings? Oh-and-’ he was suddenly awkward ‘-I seem to have left my credit cards behind. Could you use yours?’
‘Sure, no problem.’
He spent the afternoon studying the books, said ‘Hmm!’ again, and swept her off to The Rising Sun, an old, traditional building where she’d booked two tiny rooms with such low oak beams that it was hard to walk upright.
As she’d promised, the food was excellent and gave them vigour for the fight.
‘You can’t just dump this place,’ she said fiercely.
‘It’s not viable, Olympia. You can see that for yourself. Forty employees!’
‘Who all work their socks off for you.’
‘They’re now part of an international conglomerate-’
‘So loyalty doesn’t matter any more?’
‘Will you let me get a word in edgeways? It might have been viable until two years ago, but now there’s that other place, just down the road, Kellway’s-who are operating in much the same line of work.’
‘The council should never have allowed them to start up. They’re just trying to squeeze us out of business.’
‘Us?’
‘Hadson’s. It’s just a unit of productivity to you, isn’t it?’
‘It’s my job to see things in that way.’
‘And to hell with the people! But Mr Jakes is a sweet old man and he’s been the backbone of this place for years.’