Anne Mather - The Autumn Of The Witch

Robert McMaster merely nodded, making no attempt to rise or say anything further. Harold Mortimer moved to the door as well. ‘I’ll go, too, Robert,’ he said, with awkward movements of his hands, and McMaster made no answer. Jennifer went out with them to accompany them to the door and silence reigned in the library until the heavy doors were heard to close behind them. Then, as Jennifer strolled back across the hall to join them, Stephanie burst out: ‘How could you? Jennifer, how can you do this to my father?’

Jennifer closed the door, leaning back against it with bored negligence. ‘My dear Stephanie, you don’t know what you’re talking about. I’ve done nothing to your father. Everything that has happened is the result of his own stupidity. My God! I agree with Ventura. Your father should have had more sense than to attempt to play games with him.’

‘Give it a rest, both of you,’ exclaimed McMaster, supporting his head on his hands. ‘I can do without your opinions.’

Stephanie sighed. ‘But, Father, is there nothing you can do?’ She spread her hands. ‘Why couldn’t the merger go through as planned?’

‘Because Ventura has decided he doesn’t want to play it that way any longer,’ replied her father.

‘But why did you do it?’ Stephanie stared at him. ‘Why couldn’t you just have accepted the merger in the first place if things were so desperate? You must have had a motive for refusing. You’re over fifty, Father. Does retiring really mean that much to you?’

‘No – no, not exactly.’ Her father sounded weary of the subject. ‘But consider my situation, Stephanie. I have a wife who expects a certain standard of living. How long do you think we …’ he indicated Jennifer, ‘… how long do you think we could live on capital if I was thrown aside eventually for one of Ventura’s men?’

Jennifer gave an impatient grimace. ‘Oh, Robert, you’re beginning to bore me, do you know that? All you preach these days is economy! Why should I be forced to economize when I have a perfectly legitimate holding in the company that’s worth a lot of money to me? Ventura’s offer is more than generous; in fact it’s positively extravagant.’ She gave an excited little laugh. ‘Perhaps he considers that an attractive woman should not have to scrimp and save!’ Stephanie turned on her angrily. ‘You fool!’ she snapped contemptuously. ‘You don’t even have the sense to realize that Ventura knows perfectly well that as McMaster’s wife you wouldn’t accept anything but a tempting figure! After all, whatever he’s paying you, it’s chickenfeed to an organization like his!’

Jennifer stepped forward and slapped Stephanie full on the face impulsively. ‘Don’t you dare to speak to me like that, you priggish little chit!’ she spat out furiously. ‘You McMasters! You think you own the earth!’

Stephanie fell back a step, one hand pressed to her burning cheek, and her father was at last aroused from his lethargy. ‘For God’s sake, Jennifer!’ he muttered. ‘Let’s at least attempt to behave like civilized human beings! Whatever you feel about it, I will not stand by and allow you to treat my daughter as a whipping boy for your frustration. You know she’s right. You know Ventura is using you against me!’

Jennifer’s face hardened. ‘Maybe he is, maybe he is. Just don’t try to get me to change my mind, that’s all.’

‘I wouldn’t try,’ returned McMaster grimly, and sank back down in his seat.

With a muffled word of departure, Stephanie wrenched open the door, brushing past Jennifer without even looking at her. She ran up the wide staircase and in the sanctuary of her room she flung herself miserably on the bed. Her smarting cheek meant less than the realization that things had finally come to a head and now her father was little more than a puppet to be moved at will by his masters. There seemed no escape from the inevitable and her heart bled for the man who had tried so desperately to hang on to the firm that he had himself started so many years ago. It wasn’t his fault that he hadn’t the incisive thrust that was necessary to be successful in business today, and Jennifer had known what she was doing years ago when she had suggested he make her a director of the firm. Only Aunt Evelyn could prevent the certainty of a take-over and Stephanie knew only too well that she would not raise a finger to stop it. She had cut off her brother when he married Jennifer only eighteen months after the death of his first wife, and the breach had never been healed. Besides, no doubt she was being paid well for her shares as well.

Stephanie sighed and slid off the bed, taking off the trouser suit and hanging it away in her fitted wardrobe. Then she turned back to the bed and as she did so the scarlet telephone on the bedside table caught her eye. With determination, she flung herself on her stomach on the bed and lifted the receiver. Then she dialled the number of Allan Priestley’s apartment and waited as the ringing tone began. Presently the receiver was lifted and Allan’s voice came through to her.

‘Oh, Allan! Hello, love. This is Stephanie. Look, I’m afraid I can’t go to that party with you this evening.’

Allan sounded annoyed. ‘Why ever not?’

Stephanie hesitated. ‘Well, I can’t really explain over the telephone.’

‘Why not? Has something happened? Is it to do with your father?’

‘Sort of. Anyway, Allan, I do have a bit of a headache, and quite honestly I didn’t want to go in the first place. You can still go—’

‘I don’t want to go without you!’ Allan snorted impatiently.

‘Well, I’m sorry, Allan, but that’s how it is. Give me a ring tomorrow, hmn?’

There was silence for a moment and then Allan said: ‘Oh, all right, Stephanie. But I do wish you wouldn’t make it sound so mysterious. Are you sure you’re all right?’

‘Of course. I told you, I just have a bit of a headache, that’s all. ‘Bye for now.’

‘G’bye.’ Allan sounded reluctant, but Stephanie rang off before he could say anything else. Then she lay for a moment looking at the phone, seeing again the dark, unrelenting features of Santino Ventura. It didn’t seem fair that one man should possess this power over her father, albeit power that Jennifer and Aunt Evelyn between them had placed into his hands. With a sigh, Stephanie got up and went into her bathroom. Maybe a shower would rid her of this awful feeling of despondency.

She was bathed and dressed in velvet pants and a lounging sweater of fine wool when she heard the telephone ringing. She did not bother to answer it. It could be no one for her. And so it was a surprise when Miller tapped at her bedroom door to advise her that a Signor Bastinado was on the telephone.

Thanking her, Stephanie dashed across the room to the telephone and lifted the receiver with hasty fingers. ‘Hello. This is Stephanie McMaster.’

‘Hello, signorina .’ Pietro’s voice had an unmistakable accent. ‘I hope I did not disturb you.’

‘Oh, no – no.’ Stephanie bit her lip. ‘What can I do for you?’

Pietro seemed to hesitate, and then he said: ‘I wondered if you might have dinner with me this evening.’

Stephanie sank down on to the bed. ‘Dinner?’ she echoed, slowly, thinking hard. Why was he asking her out for dinner? Dared she go, knowing she had just told Allan she had a headache? And yet might this not be an opportunity to fraternize with the – enemy? She frowned. Pietro Bastinado must have some influence with Ventura.

Without further hesitation, she said: ‘Why – yes, I think I could manage that.’

‘ Bene! I was afraid you might have some previous engagement, and it is rather late.’

“I – I was going out, but I – I changed my mind,’ she said, carefully.