LITMIR.BIZ

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He cried heatedly, ‘I hope she’s not been giving you a hard time!’

      ‘No, not really.’

      She sounded unusually hesitant, and Blackie spotted this immediately, and shook his marvellous white, leonine head, and exhaled in exasperation. ‘I’ll never understand Jim. I don’t know what prompted him to invite her. It was stupid on his part, if you ask me.’

      ‘Yes, and Paula was upset too, but I decided not to intervene. I thought it would look petty. But …’ Emma shrugged, and, since she confided most things in Blackie these days, she told him about her conversation with Edwina, her attempts to reason with her daughter.

      Blackie listened carefully, occasionally nodding, and when she had finished he said, in a low voice, ‘Well, I’m happy for Sally, if this is what she wants. She’s a lovely lass, and Anthony is a nice chap. Down-to-earth, and not a bit stuck up, which is more than I can say for that mother of his.’ He paused. Recollections swamped him. Slowly, he added, ‘She was most peculiar when she was growing up, and never very nice to you, Emma. Always slighting you, if I remember correctly, and believe me, I do. I haven’t forgotten how she used to show her preference for Joe Lowther, making it so bloody obvious too. She was a little bitch, and she hasn’t changed. Please promise me you’ll let this matter about Anthony rest. I don’t want you getting agitated because of Edwina. She’s not worth it.’

      ‘Yes, you’re right, and I. promise.’ She smiled faintly. ‘Let’s forget about Edwina. Where are you taking me to dinner? Shane was most mysterious when we were driving over here.’

      ‘Was he now, mavourneen.’ Blackie grinned from ear to ear. ‘To tell you the truth, Emma, I couldn’t think of a nice enough place, so I told Mrs Padgett to prepare dinner for us here. I know you like her home cooking, and she’s rustled up a lovely bit of spring lamb. I told her to make new potatoes, brussel sprouts and Yorkshire pudding, all your favourites. Now, me darlin’, how does that sound to you?’

      ‘Delicious, and I’m glad we’re not going out. It’s much cosier here, and I do feel a bit tired.’

      His black eyes narrowed under his bushy brows as he examined her alertly. ‘Ah,’ he said softly, ‘so you’re finally admitting it. I do wish you wouldn’t push yourself so hard. There’s no need for it any more, you know.’

      Dismissing this comment with an easy smile, Emma leaned closer to him, and no longer able to suppress her curiosity, she asked eagerly, ‘What do you want my advice about? You sounded cagey on the phone this morning.’

      ‘I didn’t mean to, darlin’.’ He sipped his whiskey, puffed away for a moment, and continued, ‘But I’d prefer to wait until Shane comes back, if you don’t mind, since it concerns him.’

      ‘What concerns me?’ Shane asked from the doorway. He strolled into the room, his drink in his hand.

      ‘The business matter I want to discuss with Emma.’

      ‘I’ll say it concerns me!’ Shane exclaimed rather forcefully. ‘It was my idea in the first place.’ Seating himself on the sofa next to Emma, he settled against the cushions, crossed his legs and turned to her. ‘Winston’s sorry he missed your calls. He was out in the garden earlier, worrying about the beck flooding. It’s dangerously near to it apparently.’ His eyes swivelled to his grandfather. ‘I just rang Derek and asked him to get a couple of our men over to Beck House tomorrow, to check things out.’

      ‘Aye, that’s a good idea. But they’ll have to shore up those banks a lot better than they did last year,’ Blackie remarked pointedly. ‘Now, if you’d both listened to me, it would have been done right in the first place. Let me explain a couple of things.’ He commenced to do so, not giving Shane a chance to respond. And then for the next couple of minutes they discussed various methods of reinforcement. They sounded for all the world like a couple of builders about to embark on a major construction project, and Blackie was most vociferous in his opinions, which tickled Emma. He was still a bricklayer at heart.

      But she soon lost interest in their somewhat technical conversation. She had become extremely conscious of Shane’s presence next to her. His bulk did more than fill the sofa, it commandeered it. For the first time in years she began to regard him through newly perceptive and objective eyes, not as an old family friend, but as a younger woman – a stranger – might. How marvellous looking he was tonight, dressed in an impeccably tailored grey suit and a pale-blue voile shirt with a silver-grey silk tie. He had inherited his grandfather’s large frame, his broad sweeping back and powerful shoulders, along with Blackie’s wavy black hair and those sparkling eyes so like jet. His complexion was dark too, but his light mahogany tan came from winter sun, garnered on the ski slopes of Switzerland or a lazy Caribbean beach, and not from toiling long hours as a navvy out in the open as his grandfather had once done.

      His appearance was much like Blackie’s had been at his age. The face is different, though, she thought, sneaking another surreptitious look at him, but he does have Blackie’s distinctive cleft in his chin, the same dimples when he smiles. And that long upper lip betrays his Celtic origins. I bet he’s broken many a heart already, she added silently with an inward smile of amusement. Then she experienced a tiny pang of sadness for Sarah. Easy to understand why the girl had a crush on him. He was a splendid young man who exuded virility and manliness, and there was a unique warmth and gentleness in him. That was the most devastating of combinations, and she knew only too well about men like Shane O’Neill. She had loved such a man herself, had had her heart broken by him once when she had been young and vulnerable and very much in love. But he had repaired her broken heart, had given her immeasurable happiness and fulfilment in the end. Yes, Paul McGill had had the same kind of potency and fatal charm such as Shane O’Neill possessed in some abundance.

      Blackie said, ‘Daydreaming, Emma darlin’?’

      She shifted her position on the sofa and smiled lightly. ‘No. I’m patiently waiting for you two to finish discussing that damn beck, so we can get down to brass tacks about the business you want my advice on.’

      ‘Why yes, of course, it’s wasting time we are,’ he admitted, his manner more genial than ever. In fact, conviviality seemed to spill out of Blackie tonight, and he beamed first at Emma, then at Shane. ‘Now, me boy,’ he said, ‘please top up Emma’s glass with a drop more of that bubbly, and give me a refill, and we’ll settle in for a nice little chat.’

      And this they did, after Shane had attended to their drinks.

      It was Shane who began, concentrating his attention entirely on Emma, his tone as sober as his face had become. He spoke rapidly, but clearly, as he generally did in business, plunging in without preamble. Emma appreciated his directness, and she, in turn, gave him all of her attention.

      Shane said: ‘We’ve been wanting to build, or acquire, a hotel in New York for several years. Dad and I have both spent a great deal of time scouting out possibilities. Recently we found the ideal place. It’s a residential hotel in the East Sixties. Old-fashioned, of course, and the interiors are in need of considerable remodelling – rebuilding actually. That’s what we’ll do – most likely. You see, we tendered a bid, it has been accepted, and we’re buying the hotel. The papers are currently being drawn up.’

      ‘Congratulations, Shane, and you too, Blackie!’ Emma looked from one to the other, her face bathed in genuine delight. ‘But how can I be of help to you? Why do you need to talk to me? I don’t know a blessed thing about hotels, except whether or not they’re comfortable and efficient.’

      ‘But you do know New York City, Emma,’ Blackie countered, leaning forward with intentness. ‘That’s why we need you.’

      ‘I’m not sure that I follow you – ’

      ‘We need you to steer us in the right direction to the best people,’ Shane cut in, wanting to get to the crux of the matter. He pinned her with his bright black eyes. ‘It seems to me that you’ve made that city your own in so many different ways, so you must know what makes it tick. Or rather what makes its business and commerce tick.’

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