‘I think you must have one of your bad times coming on, Jane. Perhaps we should see what the medics make of your state of health at the moment.’
He made it sound like a threat, she thought. And indeed it was a threat, coming from him. It was the most potent weapon in the strange array he used against her. Jane wondered if she looked as unkempt and uncontrolled as she felt. She was sure now that her long black hair was straggly and uncombed. She couldn’t remember when she had last given it any attention. She didn’t enjoy looking in mirrors nowadays.
She said as firmly as she could, ‘This hasn’t got anything to do with my health. I’m being perfectly rational about our future.’
Martin gave her the little mirthless chuckle which was the one of his reactions that most annoyed her. ‘Oh, I doubt that, Jane.’ He walked over to the drinks cabinet and mixed himself a whisky and soda with merciless deliberation. ‘Perhaps we’ll talk tomorrow, when you’re in a more sensible frame of mind.’
He walked out of the room and into his study, shutting the door firmly behind him. He might have to do something about Jane if she went on in this vein, he thought. It would have surprised him to know that Jane Beaumont was thinking exactly the same about him.
Like quite a lot of head chefs, Jason Knight did not work on a Monday. It was the quietest day of the week in the restaurant. It was also the logical day for Jason to rest, after weekends that were usually successful but often hectic.
His absence had the happy effect of giving Gerry Davies an extra day to think about the proposition his friend had put to him on Saturday. Taking control of the firm was a radical step. It was also one which Gerry would never even have entertained, had Jason not suggested it to him. He discussed it in confidence with each of his sons over the weekend, as Jason had suggested he should, but that made his decision more rather than less difficult. It was a good idea in principle, all three of them agreed, but the final decision would depend on the particular firm and the particular circumstances involved.
Only he could weigh all the facts in this particular instance. He must do that and make the decision which was right for him. All of which put the ball firmly back in Gerry’s court. Wrong metaphor, he decided: the only kind of ball he had ever been happy to handle was a rugby ball, when he was in his physical prime. Thirty years ago, on the mudbaths of Llanelli or Treorchy, that greasy leather-clad ovoid had been difficult to handle, but it had been child’s play compared with this.
He hadn’t made his mind up what to do by Monday, so he was glad that Knight wasn’t around to ask for his decision. He passed him a couple of times during the day on Tuesday, and thought the chef was looking at him quizzically, but that was probably just his imagination. Gerry waited until he saw Martin Beaumont drive his Jaguar out of its reserved parking space at five thirty before going across to the restaurant kitchen.
Jason nodded immediately towards the door of his den. Gerry Davies went into the little room and sat rather nervously for a couple of minutes until his friend joined him. Jason must have been a little on edge, for he said without any preliminaries, ‘Well? Have you mulled over what we discussed?’
‘I seem to have done nothing else for the last three days. I’ve discussed it with my sons as you suggested. They thought it a good idea, in many respects. They’re more up to date, more forward-looking, than I am.’
‘And?’ Knight was too anxious to hear the words of support he wanted to allow any further delay.
‘I’m afraid I can’t go along with it, Jason. I don’t feel I can challenge Martin to give us control of his company, in view of my present relationship with him. As you suggested, he wouldn’t welcome the idea, and I’m afraid I should feel disloyal. He backed me to do a major job in this place, and he’s paid me handsomely for my efforts. It would feel to me like kicking him in the teeth to say, “Well, loyalty only goes so far, Martin. You picked me up and backed me, but now that we’re successful, I want more than just a wage from you.” I’m sorry, Jason, but that’s how it’s come out. I’ve considered all the other arguments, but they don’t override what I feel.’
‘That’s a pity.’ Jason wanted to revive the arguments he’d put before, above all to point out that Beaumont hadn’t picked up Davies out of the gutter but had backed a man who had already proved his ability. But he knew Gerry well enough to accept that he wouldn’t change his mind once he’d made a decision. He thought of a new, more positive, argument, and fancied he heard the pulse of desperation entering his voice as he put it. ‘The company might be all the stronger, you know, if we all had a say in its direction. The people we were talking about are all able people.’
Gerry Davies smiled ruefully. He felt much happier now that he had announced his decision, even though he knew he had disappointed his friend. ‘You could well be right. I’ve never said what you want to do is wrong, have I? It’s just that it wouldn’t feel right for me, and I can’t go against my instinct.’
‘All right. I won’t pester you again. And I respect what you say about having to do what’s right for you. This won’t affect our friendship.’
‘Thank you. I didn’t think it would, but I’m happy to hear you say that.’ Gerry resisted an absurd impulse to get up and pump the younger man by the hand. He felt a need to offer him some sort of consolation. ‘If you consult the other three you mentioned and they all feel as you do, then do come back to me. I’ve already told you that I might be wrong, that to an extent I’m acting on gut instinct rather than logic. If you all feel the same and want me in, then I’ll reconsider at that point.’
It sounded as if he was trying to have the best of both worlds. But Jason Knight knew that it wasn’t like that, that Davies merely needed the reassurance of knowing that other and different people shared his friend’s views. The trouble was that Jason doubted whether he could enlist that support. He didn’t know the others anything like as well as he knew Gerry and he didn’t think they trusted him as Gerry did.
The financial expert Alistair Morton had been here longer than anyone. He was something of an introvert who always played his cards close to his chest; Jason didn’t know how he would react to an assault on the boss’s control. Jason had always been slightly in awe of Vanda North; he fancied that as an ex-mistress she knew far more about Beaumont than she was prepared to confide in him. He suspected also that she did not entirely trust him, that she saw him as a young man on the make, gifted perhaps, but not entirely to be relied upon. He liked Sarah Vaughan and thought she had the talent to contribute to the firm and its policies. But she was quite young, still relatively new to the job, and lightweight. She might follow the others into a challenge against Beaumont, but she’d hardly be the instigator alongside him.
Jason realized now how much he had been relying on going to the others with the sturdy Gerry Davies already beside him as an ally. The older man had the gravitas and the integrity which would be important if he was to make the others share his aspirations for power. He said, voicing a perfectly genuine dilemma, ‘I shall have to consider where I go from here. I was rather relying on having you at my side to help persuade the others.’
‘I’m sorry about that. But I don’t see that I’m going to change my mind. Unless, as I say, I knew everyone felt the same, or there were new situations to consider.’
Jason Knight couldn’t see how there was going to be any significant change, unless he could initiate it himself. He would have to think of other methods.
Sarah Vaughan had given herself a severe talking to, then got on with the job she knew and liked.
There was surely no reason why she should allow Martin Beaumont and his sexual harassment to interfere with her life. Because harassment was all it was, surely. And because that was all it was, a mature woman like her could put it into its proper perspective. She was thirty-three, not seventeen. It wasn’t the first time a man had made a pass at her, and it wouldn’t be the last. Like all attractive women, she had long ago learned how to brush off advances she did not want to encourage.