Lynda Plante - The Talisman

Harriet began to feel she had finally turned a corner in her life. She paid careful attention to her health, and took great pains to obey her doctors’ orders to the letter. Her vegetarian meals were carefully chosen and cooked to give her a balanced diet. She was blissfully happy, and what made her happiest of all was Edward’s adoration.

Work and the office could not be further from Edward’s mind. But when he received an urgent call from Skye Duval, Harriet persuaded him to go. He was reluctant to leave her, but she insisted.

Barbara heard about Harriet’s pregnancy from Alex. Edward had been loath to tell anyone about the forthcoming event because he wanted to be one hundred per cent sure nothing could go wrong. It was bizarre that both brothers should be expectant fathers, but even more ironic that both wives should be carrying Edward’s children. Alex had not the slightest notion that Barbara’s baby was not his, and was as excited and overwhelmed with the prospect of having a child as Edward. But Alex was left to run the company virtually single-handed, as Edward had done his usual disappearing act.

Alex had discovered the deeds for Banks on his desk the day Barbara told him she was expecting his child. He felt it was a lucky sign, that Edward had agreed to sell. He had no idea of the part his wife had played in persuading Edward to agree to the sale.

At first Alex presumed that the club was an embarrassment because of the bad press it had received, but when it was put on the market the interest didn’t come from the seedy club world he had once known. It was eventually sold to two financiers, both with excellent reputations in the City.

Aware of the club’s Mafia connections during Edward’s ownership, Alex had always disassociated himself with Banks. Now, with the club going legitimate, he made sure that he kept a share, seeing his opportunity to act as a silent third partner. The new owners closed the club for six months while it was refurbished, and when it reopened it was an exclusive gambling club for members only. It was fronted with such good names and links to the City that it seemed above reproach, and, as Edward had always known it would, the club became a gold mine.

Alex quietly paved his own way in the City, enjoying his forays into high finance more and more. He took a particular interest in arbitrage, a very complicated form of dealing which made money by seizing on anomalies in world currencies and interest rates. He opened up his own office and employed three slick young brokers, whose job it was to watch the money markets for opportunities. For example, if the dollar was 1.29 in Frankfurt, but in New York was fetching 255 Japanese yen, they would find a broker in Milan willing to sell Dutch guilders for 70 yen apiece. Meanwhile, the pound might be changing hands in London at 4.3 guilders. So if they pushed a million pounds through the sequence while the rates held good, from Frankfurt to New York, to Milan, to London... they could end up with a vast profit for very little time and effort. This was what attracted Alex to the City, it was like a chess game, and he was making a fortune.

The three young men spent their days scanning Reuters’ screens and ‘running’ on the Stock Exchange, enabling Alex to amass great sums of money with one hand while attending to the Barkley Company with the other. Also, since he had taken over the St James’ Bank, he was able to delve deeper into the property business unhindered by the necessity for loans from City banks. He worked best alone, without interference from Edward, and was more than pleased that his brother was out of the way. All company cheques required double signatures, but Edward trusted his brother’s business acumen and left signed cheques for him to use. Alex was going from strength to strength, ploughing Barbara’s fortune into the Barkley holdings and beginning to structure the massive takeover of Buchanan House, a vast corporation which owned restaurants, shops, and four department stores, nationwide. As he grew more confident of his prowess as a tycoon, Barbara became his ally, always at his side. She considered their social calendar, entertaining lavishly, and their connections enabled them to push their business upwards, step by step. Alex was happy — he was to be a father, and at last he felt fulfilled and contented.

Barbara never mentioned Edward’s name, and she rediscovered her love for Alex. In truth, she couldn’t help but notice that when Edward was absent, Alex was far more at ease. He appeared to be very much the head of the Barkley Company, and the business was run according to his instructions. Everything was legal, he was becoming a public figure, and the baby’s birth was imminent.

Edward didn’t stop to take his coat off. He hurtled up the stairs, dropping baby clothes and toys as he ran. ‘Harry, Harry, I’m home...’

Harriet waddled out to the landing. She was wearing a white maternity dress, and her hair was so long she had plaited it down her back. Wild curls framed her forehead, and escaped in small wisps at her neck. Edward thought her more beautiful than ever. He clasped her to him, crushing the flowers he had brought her and dropping more toys. He was deliriously happy. ‘God, I’ve missed you, have I missed you!’

‘Well you’ve not been off the phone — for a man who never used to bother to call you’re certainly making up for lost time. Now, wait until you see the nursery. It is, though I say it myself, a triumph... The cot was Dewint’s find, it’s got more frills than I personally would have chosen, but... Look, what do you think?’

The room was decorated in eggshell blue. All along one wall were toys, trains and boats and aeroplanes. ‘I’ve had such fun picking out everything.’

‘You’ve not been doing too much? You know you have to look out for yourself, remember what the doctor said...’

She gave him a slap, and told him Dewint even carried her handbag for her. She giggled and said she thought he quite liked it.

They sat before the blazing fire, discussing names. Neither of them mentioned the name Freedom, that was the past, this was the future... Suddenly, as she leaned forward to poke the fire, Harriet gasped, and put her hands to her swollen belly. The colour drained from her face and she winced with pain, clung to Edward... ‘Oh, God, something is wrong, get an ambulance... Oh my God, Edward, I’m losing him, for God’s sake help me...’

The ambulance took Harriet to the local hospital as there was no time to drive across London to the clinic they had booked. Harriet’s doctor was there within the hour, and she was rushed into the delivery room. Edward, who had studied all the procedures, had to remain outside, frantic with worry. Nurses came and went. He paced the corridor, lighting cigar after cigar, until at long last the surgeon came out and removed his mask. ‘Well, she’s all right — we’ve saved her.’

‘What about the baby?’

‘It’s the baby who’s all right, she’s a tiny little soul, but a fighter. You can see her as soon as she’s cleaned up. Harriet’s still out, she’ll be coming round in fifteen, twenty minutes.’

‘A girl? It’s a girl? Does Harry know?’ He shook his head. ‘Of course not... Is she all right? Is my wife all right?’

The surgeon led Edward to a chair before he could fall down, then sat next to him. ‘She’s a little cracker, but be prepared — she’s very tiny, weighed in at two pounds. But she’s got everything in the right place. She’s in the incubator, but you can hold her soon enough, okay? Want to come through? Then you can see your wife...’

He led Edward to the Special Care Baby Unit, past rows of bawling babies, to a side ward. There, in something that looked to Edward like a huge cake stand with a clear dome over it, lay his tiny daughter. A nurse, her eyes smiling over her face mask, beckoned him.