Smokescreen. Anne Mather
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‘You seem—distracted, Olivia.’ Adam was speaking again, and she looked up at him almost blankly, aware that for several minutes she had been absorbed with her thoughts. ‘Is something wrong?’ he persisted. ‘You’re not—afraid of the responsibilities that are now yours? You needn’t be, you know. You have some of the best business brains in the world to help you.’
Olivia shook her head. If he only knew, she thought with irony. ‘I was thinking,’ she excused herself quickly. ‘I’m sorry, Mr Cosgrove. What were you saying?’
Adam hesitated. ‘You haven’t—that is—there’s been no word from Alex, I suppose?’
‘Alex?’ Olivia blinked. ‘No. Should there have been?’
‘Well—no,’ Adam shrugged. ‘Was he informed?’
‘As I have no idea where he is, that would have been difficult,’ Olivia replied tautly. ‘Henry said something about his living in Africa, but Africa’s a big place, and he never heard from him.’
‘No.’ Adam nodded. ‘No, of course not.’ He flicked open the lid of his briefcase. ‘Shall we begin?’
Olivia scarcely listened to the preamble. It wasn’t long. Henry had no close relatives, other than herself and Alex, of course, and his bequests to the members of his staff were characteristically few. Five hundred pounds here, a thousand pounds there; Francis Kennedy received a bonus in the form of a five-thousand-pound block of shares in Gantry Chemicals; but otherwise the vast sum of his estate remained intact, to be administered by his wife, Olivia, providing certain conditions were adhered to.
Olivia straightened her spine. ‘What conditions?’ she asked Adam, her green eyes alight with suspicion, and the elderly lawyer exhaled a sigh before explaining the situation.
‘It’s quite simple,’ he said. ‘I don’t think you’ll find them onerous. H.R. simply wanted to ensure that his business empire survived his death.’
Olivia sprang to her feet. ‘You said the estate was mine!’
‘I said you were his heir,’ said Adam mildly, his eyes showing faint bewilderment. ‘My dear, surely you consider an income of some quarter of a million pounds a year an adequate commission for sustaining Henry’s controlling interest in the Gantry corporation?’
‘What are you saying?’ Olivia gazed at him. ‘That I can’t dispose of it?’
Adam looked confused. ‘Why should you wish to do that? Olivia, you’ll have everything anyone could ever want—money, power, position——’
‘But not complete power,’ she exclaimed harshly ‘You’re saying that the estate is entailed.’
Adam regarded her with evident perplexity. ‘My dear, you’d be a fool to sell, even if you were able to do so. In this time of recession, the corporation has continued to make a comfortable profit for its shareholders, and now that the economic crisis seems to be bottoming out——’
‘I know all that.’ Olivia turned away, her hands pressed to her cheeks, a sick sense of defeat replacing the nervous anticipation inside her. God, she had been a fool! Her mother had been a fool! They should have known that Henry would find some way to perpetuate his memory. It had been naïve to imagine he would give her complete control. He had alleviated his conscience. He had left her well provided for. But the capital investment remained within his grasp, even after death.
‘There is one more thing.’ Adam spoke tentatively, his tone indicating his continuing mystification at her attitude. ‘It concerns the future, Olivia. If—if you should decide to get married again, your position as nominal head of the corporation will be withdrawn. You will receive a settlement of three hundred thousand pounds, but your controlling interest will, at that time, be taken into trust for H.R.’s grandchildren, should Alex ever produce any.’
Olivia steeled herself to look at him. ‘And this house?’
‘All H.R.’s houses are yours, so long as you wish to live in them,’ replied Adam.
‘But—if I marry?’
‘Again the situation changes. The houses are part of the Gantry estate.’
Olivia nodded. She felt immensely weary suddenly. It seemed as if it had all been for nothing, she thought painfully. Her mother’s schemes, her mother’s desire for revenge—it had all been futile. Oh, she was wealthy now, more wealthy than she had any right to be, and that was part of her disillusionment. She had not wanted to be wealthy. She had not wanted Henry’s money. And although at the time it had seemed a cruel irony, perhaps it was as well now that her mother would never learn how unnecessary her sacrifice had been. In her confused state, she might well have suspected Olivia of being a party to this all along.
It was so unfair! For a moment, a tearful sense of outrage gripped her. She had given up her career, her future, her life! Maybe another girl would have found it fair recompense. Olivia did not. She had been inveigled into a marriage that was abhorrent to her, persuaded it was the only way to restore her mother’s health, only to find that Henry’s desire to make amends had been as empty as his proposal. He had only wanted a scapegoat, she could see that now, someone to deprive his son of his inheritance.
Adam folded the will and laid the copy in his briefcase. Then he said stiffly: ‘I suggest you sleep on it, Olivia. Obviously, this is neither the time nor the place to go into further detail. Perhaps you’d allow me to make an appointment for you to come and see me in a day or so. We can continue this discussion at that time.’
‘Wait——’ Olivia put out her hand instinctively, forcing a note of apology into her tone. After all, this was not Adam’s fault, and it would not serve any purpose she had to make an enemy of Henry’s trusted business advisor. ‘I—I want to thank you,’ she said, adopting a rueful expression. ‘I’m afraid you must think me very ungrateful. It’s just that—well, I suppose the fact of Henry’s death hasn’t really sunk in yet.’
That was an outright lie, and she thought that perhaps Adam identified it as such. But he was evidently prepared to give her the benefit of the doubt, and he took her hand automatically as he made his farewells. His attitude gave Olivia pause, and almost incredulously she realised that so far as Adam was concerned, she still wielded a hefty weapon. Henry had given her the power to administer his controlling interest; how she actually used that power was her decision to make. She could be the symbolic, but silent, partner they expected, or she could exercise her rights to offer her opinion. How far that opinion would be listened to remained to be seen, but one thing seemed certain: no one, not Adam Cosgrove, or Francis Kennedy, and most particularly not Henry himself would expect her to involve herself in the corporation’s affairs.
Adam left, not altogether satisfied, she knew, with her explanation, but prepared to put it down to the inconsistency of her being female. His departure seemed to signal to the others that it was time they, too, made their farewells, and in ones and twos they took to their cars, their expressions of sympathy ringing in Olivia’s ears long after the steel gates had sealed behind them.
Francis had left, too, after offering to remain behind and being refused. He had suggested she might need company over dinner,