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  Wendy laughed. ‘Did I step on your Yorkshire toes, darling? Of course! This place has a special significance for you two, doesn’t it?’ She glanced at Kirby.

  ‘Damian’s told me how you and he used to come here together in those dear, dead days, long ago. Well, I’ll risk the oysters and the lobsters, if it will please you. Does that soothe your hurt pride?’

  ‘I’ll just have a steak and salad. Kirby?’

  Her stomach was too knotted to even contemplate food. ‘Grilled sole,’ she said, without thought.

  Damian ordered the meal, while Kirby toyed with the silver cutlery, keeping her gaze down. She could feel Wendy Catchpole’s eyes constantly on her, studying her face, her clothes, her hands. It was not a kindly scrutiny.

  She was picking up some very unfriendly vibrations from the tall, classically attractive blonde. Did Wendy have a suspicion that something had happened between her and Damian? Or was she simply still irritated about her fall the other day?

  The waiter left to relay their order to the kitchen.

  Kirby compelled herself to look at Damian at last, keeping her expression as aloof as she could manage.

  ‘Lunch is officially under way,’ she said in a flat tone. ‘Shall we get down to business—if it won’t be too boring for Wendy, that is?’

  ‘I’m never bored by talk about money,’ Wendy replied. ‘Damian’s been giving a lot of thought to your little company. Haven’t you, darling?’

  ‘Yes, I have,’ Damian said. His manner was urbane, as always. But she knew him well enough to sense the strain under the poised demeanour. How had he allowed this hateful situation to evolve? She wondered, cursing him bitterly. He could ‘have warned her, at least … not just let her walk into a brick wall like this.

  He began discussing the circumstances that Waterford Electronics was in, and she tried to force herself to be attentive. Shut away the pain, she commanded herself.

  Later is for emotion. Now is for being strong.

  Last night might never have happened. A dream of passion. An experience that had left no trace other than the throbbing in her loins, which was now becoming a sharp pain.

  In Damian’s face, in Damian’s voice, not the slightest trace remained of last night’s consuming lover. He spoke in precise, even tones, as though they were no more than friends—friends with little in common other than a purely business interest.

  Wendy suddenly cut in triumphantly. ‘I knew there was something different about you!’ she exclaimed. ‘Look. She’s taken off her wedding-ring.’

  Kirby could not stop her eyes from meeting Damian’s.

  If he saw the pain in hers, it was reflected by a darkening of his own eyes. She knew that flash of darkness, often the only sign of deep emotion that Damian ever gave.

  ‘Has she?’ he asked indifferently.

  ‘I noticed it particularly because it was an unusual design—three colours of gold, braided together, wasn’t it?’

  ‘Yes,’ Kirby said.

  ‘I’m very observant,’ Wendy laughed in satisfaction. The cold green eyes glittered. ‘Well, well. How significant. Does this mean you’re putting yourself back in the marriage market, Kirby?’

  ‘It doesn’t mean anything,’ she replied tersely. ‘Since I no longer have a husband, I just decided that a wedding-ring was an indulgence I wasn’t entitled to any more.’

  ‘Quite,’ Wendy said, her cold smile in place. ‘But it is a pretty obvious signal, isn’t it? I mean to say—the merry widow, and all that.’

  Their food arrived, saving what was, for Kirby at least, a very raw moment. They ate in silence for a while, Wendy dealing with her oysters in professional style, Kirby no more than picking at her sole.

  Damian, too, seemed to have no appetite. Though he cut his steak into a great many pieces, she noticed that very few went into his mouth.’ She derived a bitter satisfaction from that, at least.

  ‘Go on,’ she invited him coolly. ‘You were discussing the question of the voting stock.’

  ‘Yes,’ he agreed. ‘As I said the other day, the voting stock is the key to achieving what you want. From the information you gave me, there are quite a lot of shares spread out among various board members—members other than Sir Malcolm and Roderick, that is-as well as in portfolios held by various local investors. It’s vitally important to concentrate as many of those as possible in one place. That way, you have complete control of the direction Waterford Electronics goes in.’

  ‘Agreed,’ she shrugged. ‘But, as I told you, Damian, that just isn’t a feasible option. I don’t have the cash to buy anyone else’s shares.’

  Wendy’s metallic laugh rang out. ‘You? Oh, you don’t need cash, darling. Damian will see to all that.’

  ‘I don’t quite understand,’ Kirby said stiffly.

  ‘There’s nothing to understand,’ Wendy replied. ‘The Holt Corporation are going to buy all the shares in your little company—including yours.’

  Kirby turned to Damian in astonishment. ‘What does she mean?’ she demanded.

  ‘Damian’s buying you out,’ Wendy cut in again, before Damian could speak. Her green eyes gleamed. ‘Lock, stock and barrel, sweetie.’

  ‘Is that your great plan?’ Kirby gasped.

  Damian glanced at Wendy, perhaps in irritation, ‘I wouldn’t have chosen to put it in the way Wendy’s just done. But, in essence, I think that is the best solution to your problem.’

  Kirby gaped at him in disbelief. ‘So Roderick and Malcolm were right after all,’ she said blankly. ‘You are going for a buy-out!’

  ‘I’m trying to find a way of keeping Waterford Electronics together,’ he told her patiently. ‘Consolidating control over the voting stock, so there can be no serious challenge from any single board member.’

  ‘Consolidating?’ Kirby’s astonishment was fast turning into anger. ‘Taking them all into your own hands, you mean. Well, the answer is no!’

  ‘You haven’t heard me out yet, Kirby.’

  ‘I don’t think I have to!’ She pushed her plate away from her brusquely. ‘There’s no question of your getting my shares!’

  ‘Let me finish,’ he said evenly, his slate-blue eyes holding hers. ‘I’m proposing to reorganise the structure of the company. First of all, we would locate as many shares as are available. They, and your own shares—the ones Keith left you—would be bought up by the Holt Corporation.’

  ‘Of course,’ she said tersely. ‘Go on.’

  ‘All the shares would pass into the control of a steering company, which would now assume management of Waterford Electronics. The steering company, of course, would be a subsidiary of the Holt Corporation. Waterford Electronics would now have the benefit of our considerable expertise and experience—not to mention a whole new range of customers and sources. Incorporated in the working manifesto of that company would be the principles that you want to preserve-the donations to charity, the scholarships, the subsidies to community centres—all the activities that Roderick Braithwaite and Sir Malcolm Denison want to put a stop to.’

  ‘Except that you would now be the owner of Waterford Electronics!’

  ‘The steering company would be the owner.’

  ‘The steering company which you would form, and which would belong to the Holt Corporation!’ Kirby was so angry that her cheekbones were flushed, and her normally gentle brown eyes flashed fire. ‘My God, Damian. What kind of fool do you take me for?’

  ‘I don’t take you for a fool at all,’ he replied. ‘If you’ll let me finish, you’ll see that this is a very good solution to your problems.’

  ‘So this has been your plan all along,’ she said fiercely. ‘While I thought you were putting together some way of helping me, you were simply seeing a golden opportunity to line your own pockets!’

  ‘You’re wrong,’ he told her quietly.

  Wendy Catchpole had been watching Kirby’s passionate outburst with unconcealed disdain. ‘You’re not being very grateful to darling Damian,’ she said ha
ughtily. ‘He’s been working very hard on your behalf. And it’s no use saying no now. He’s already spoken to several of your shareholders, and they’ve agreed to sell us their shares.’

  Kirby gasped. ‘You’ve already started buying up shares? Without even consulting me?’

  ‘Damian’s only trying to get you out of a hole, Kirby.’

  ‘I know what he’s doing,’ she flashed back bitterly. ‘I trusted you,’ she said, turning back to Damian. ‘I let you have access to confidential information! And all the time you were planning this!’

  ‘If you’ll let me continue,’ he said quietly, ‘you’ll see that this isn’t nearly as unpalatable as it sounds.’

  ‘You’ll become a rich woman, darling,’ Wendy put in, pouring the liquid out of an oyster into her mouth. She dabbed her lips. ‘You’ll probably be a millionairess overnight.’

  ‘I don’t want to be a damned millionairess,’ she exploded, Wendy’s last words landing like petrol on the flames of her anger. ‘I’m not interested in money! Just in keeping Keith’s business out of the hands of exploiters!’

  ‘The Holt Corporation would not buy Waterford Electronics in order to exploit it,’ Damian said, growing cooler as she grew hotter.

  ‘What about those “adjustments” you were talking about the other day? All that stuff about streamlining the company? No doubt your precious steering company will soon put that into practice!’ Kirby stormed.

  ‘Yes,’ he agreed. ‘Waterford Electronics needs to be streamlined. Quite apart from anything else, that would disarm the threat from Denison and Braithwaite. But I assure you, Kirby, it can all be achieved without compromising any of your principles.’

  ‘Oh, what rubbish,’ she snapped back. ‘Listen, Damian. When Roderick Braithwaite told me you wanted to buy out Waterford Electronics, I laughed in his face. I couldn’t believe that you were capable of betraying me like that.’

  ‘Kirby—’

  ‘I could have told Roderick then what I’m telling you now: 1have no intentions of selling my shares to anyone. Least of all to a man who has behaved as you’ve done!’

  ‘Temper, temper,’ Wendy said with her brassy laugh. ‘Yorkshire folk are supposed to be an unemotional lot.’

  ‘I’ve already explained to you,’ Damian went on steadily, ‘that the principles you think so important would be enshrined in the new company. They’d be written into the charter.’

  ‘And once I lost all control of the company,’ she retorted, ‘how long would that charter last, Damian? How long before you or your stooges quietly cut out the parts you didn’t like?’

  ‘There would be ways of ensuring that didn’t happen,’ he replied. He, too, was not touching his food any more, in contrast to Wendy, who was finishing off her oysters with considerable relish. ‘But obviously there would have to be a certain amount of trust involved.’

  ‘Trust?’ Kirby said it sharply enough to make diners at other tables glance their way. ‘You must be joking. What would be the basis for any trust between us, Damian?’

  His eyes met hers with deliberate power. ‘The basis would be what we are to each other,’ he replied quietly. ‘Our friendship.’

  She let him hold her gaze for a moment longer, feeling the force of his character. Then she tossed down her napkin, and stood up abruptly.

  ‘I think it stinks, Damian;’ she said in a voice that was all the more cutting for its quietness. ‘You’ve betrayed my trust in more ways than I can put words to. You’ve made a complete fool out of me. But I refuse to be another of your victims. You’ve had too many victims in your life, from helpless fishermen to big companies. And 1want you to know that 1think the methods you’ve stooped to—all the methods you’ve stooped to—are utterly despicable.’

  She did not care what Wendy Catchpole made of that.

  Kirby pushed her chair back, turned on her heel, and walked out of the restaurant in a blind fury. She heard Wendy’s coppery laugh behind her.

  She crossed the brilliant sunshine of the car park, her blood raging. As she reached the Jaguar, Damian, who must have followed immediately after her, caught up.

  He grasped her arm, and pulled her round to face him.

  ‘Kirby, don’t be a fool,’ he said, his face tense.

  Her eyes blazed up at him. ‘How dare you?’ she asked. ‘How dare you do this to me?’

  And they both knew she wasn’t just talking about Waterford Electronics.

  ‘It was unavoidable,’ he said, obviously answering both questions. ‘Not all paths in life are easy. You know that by now.’

  ‘Spare me the philosophy lesson,’ she sneered. ‘You’ve chosen your path in life, Damian. And I’ve chosen mine. And from now on I’d be very grateful if you would stay the hell away from me!’

  She tore her arm out of his grasp, and got quickly into the car. Her eyes were so blurred that it was a miracle she didn’t hit anything as she accelerated out of the car park.

  And then she was speeding away. Speeding home.

  She was still holding herself together, somehow, by the time she got back to the Lodge. But she was shaking badly. She went to the kitchen, and made herself a cup of tea, trying to get the trembling under control.

  When she’d recovered enough to make some logical judgements about her situation, she knew that she had better start finding out what was happening to Waterford Electronics, fast.

  As soon as she judged she was fit to speak to anyone else, she went to the telephone, and started on her enquiries.

  The first five calls she made were to people whom she knew held smallish blocks of Waterford Electronics shares-the sort of minor shareholders Damian had spoken of targeting.

  Of the five, four had already sold their Waterford shares to the Holt Corporation, earlier that week. Small quantities in themselves, ominous regarded as a block.

  None of them had thought the matter important enough to warrant telling Kirby.

  The fifth, a wealthy local woman of around Kirby’s own age, laughed airily. ‘Mrs Waterford, I leave all that sort of thing to my broker. I really don’t have the brains to make such decisions on my own. He might have sold, for all I know.’

  ‘Well, would you mind if I spoke to him myself?’

  ‘Go ahead, if you must.’

  She called the broker, and got the answer she had somehow been expecting.

  ‘Yes, Mrs Waterford. I sold my client’s Waterford Electronics holdings just yesterday. Got a good price for them, too, I might add. Holt Corporation are in the big league. Founded by a Braythorpe lad, did you know that?’

  ‘Yes,’ she said through clenched teeth. ‘I did know that.’

  ‘I assume that, if there’s a take-over bid in the offing, it has your personal blessing, Mrs Waterford?’

  ‘I’ve had no news of a take-over,’ she replied calmly. ‘Thank you for the information, Mr. Blake.’

  But she was far from calm as she replaced the receiver.

  A sensation of frightening impotence was settling over her. It was a Herculean effort to pick up the receiver again, and make a sixth call … to Sir Malcolm Denison.

  Malcolm’s patrician tones came on the line with a breezy reply.

  ‘Hello there, my dear. I’ve been wanting to speak to you over these past few days, but you don’t seem to be answering your telephone.’

  ‘I’ve been out rather a lot,’ she replied. ‘Malcolm, I wanted to speak to you about Waterford Electronics shares.’

  ‘What a coincidence,’ came the bland response. ‘The very topic I wanted to talk to you about.’

  ‘Oh?’

  ‘Yes. I wanted to tell you that I’ve taken a major decision with regard to Waterford Electronics. I’m pulling out.’

  ‘Pulling out?’

  ‘Cashing in my chips. Between you and Braithwaite and this new force, I really feel there are too many conflicting interests in the company. I don’t want to wait until the market price starts dropping. I have my own position to think of.’

&
nbsp; ‘By “this new force”, I take it you’re referring to the Holt Corporation?’ she asked bitterly.

  ‘They’re offering an excellent premium,’ Sir Malcolm said smugly.

  ‘But you’re not seriously thinking of selling? You were Keith’s friend!’

  ‘My dear Kirby, business does not run on emotions. And Keith is dead. Now, I tried to give you good advice about Waterford Electronics. You wouldn’t listen to me.’

  ‘You wanted the chairmanship, just like Roderick!’

  ‘For the best possible reasons,’ he replied smoothly.