Lynda Plante - The Talisman

He stuck his hands in his pockets and sighed. ‘It never works out with you and me, does it?’

She shrugged, picking up her handbag and gloves. ‘No, I guess not, but then you’ve never really had time for me. I’m starting work with a bank on Wall Street to gain experience. I would like, when you have a spare moment, to see you about working for the Barkley Company.’

Edward retrieved his briefcase from the sofa and began to take out files. She waited for an answer: receiving none, she walked to the door.

‘Don’t go. Maybe you should sit in on this meeting. I own twenty-five per cent of a company called “Ming”. The little Japanese bitch who owns it has tried unsuccessfully to get back that twenty-five per cent. Over the years she has skimmed and cheated, even threatening to try to cut me out of a business that I virtually handed to her on a plate. Now she’s got Japanese partners, and they don’t like having anyone else in the pond with them — in particular myself. So what she’s done is form another company called “Lotus”, specifically to deal with Japan.’

Jinks joined her father at the desk and started going through the files with him.

‘Is this legal? I mean, can she do this?’

‘Sure, she’ll be competing against herself. She’s going public with Ming, and obviously she’ll push all the money back into the new company. I wouldn’t be surprised if she intends letting it go into liquidation eventually. Easily done — she starts to bring in new lines that don’t sell, and bingo, she gets liquidated, but still retains the secure new company — and my twenty-five per cent won’t be worth a penny.’

‘What are you going to do?’

‘Put her out of business. I’m going to start buying more shares in Ming as soon as it goes public.’

‘But you’d have to be named if you buy more than five per cent of shares in any company! They have to know the purchaser, that’s the law.’

Edward smiled at his daughter’s bid to show him she knew the business. He found it charming, and he pinched her cheek.

‘But if I buy 4.99 per cent, the law’s on my side. I’ll use what is called the “concert party” system. I buy my quota, you buy, you get your friends to buy, they get their friends to buy... and when the show closes, they sell their shares straight back to me. End result? I own the lion’s share, and the first thing I do is knock Miss Takeda right off her perch and, second, we flatten Lotus and get the Japs coming straight to us.’

Edward laughed his deep, rumbling, infectious laugh. He strode over to her unwrapped gifts and began ripping the paper from them. ‘See her new lines? All this stuff is from Lotus. It’s Japanese and she’s got French labels sewn in. She’s sticking ridiculous prices on them. We’ll expose it, get some great press. We’ll buy the same stuff and undercut her by half... then when the company is back on its feet I sell, and guess who to?’

‘The Japanese?’

‘That’s my daughter. Now, look over these contracts and...’

The phone rang again. Edward answered it, gave his name and just listened to the caller. Jinks looked at the ‘gifts’ — even those were connected with his business, and yet she couldn’t feel any anger because she was genuinely interested. The garments were very delicate, in pale shades of pink and lilac, with fine handmade lace — and all with French designer labels.

Edward called her. He held his hand over the mouthpiece and told her to go down to reception and bring him all the English newspapers.

She returned to the suite to hear Edward instructing reception to get his car brought round as he was leaving for the airport immediately.

‘You’re leaving?’

Edward held out his hand for the papers and flipped them over. ‘You had a look at them?’

‘No. I just brought them straight up.’

He banged them down on the desk. His breath hissed as he flipped through them. ‘Jesus Christ, the stupid kid, the stupid bastard!’ He strode into the bedroom and began throwing his clothes into a suitcase.

Jinks looked at the papers. She picked up The Times and followed her father into the bedroom. There was a photograph of Alex halfway down the front page under the banner headline, ‘TYCOON’S SON ARRESTED’.

‘I’m getting the first flight to Paris. Stupid bastard’s in real trouble; you read it?’

Jinks skimmed the article, which stated that Evelyn Barkley had been arrested among a group of French terrorists.

‘What about the meeting? You said they were coming here?’

‘Forget it, this is more important. You wait here, tell them I’ll be in touch as soon as I can. I’ll leave the documents, just hand them over.’

He swept into the lounge to pack his briefcase just as reception called to tell him his car was waiting.

‘Who called you? Was it Alex?’

‘No, Barbara. She’s hysterical, has no idea what to do. Apparently the rags are having a field day, they’ve reporters hanging around the house. She can’t contact Alex, doesn’t know where he is...’

‘Why do you have to go?’

‘Because Alex couldn’t squeeze a fart out, never mind get his son off this rap.’

‘Don’t you mean your son?’

Edward hesitated, then began stuffing papers into his briefcase. Jinks continued, her voice becoming shrill. ‘You can find time for him but not for me, you’ve never had the time for me because I’m just your daughter. He’s no good, he never was! Let him rot for a while, it’ll do him good...’

‘What the hell would you know about it?’

He checked his passport, and she moved closer to him, trying desperately to keep herself calm.

‘Maybe before you go running to Evelyn and dear Uncle Alex, you should know that Alex is trying to get you thrown out of the Barkley Company. This is the first time you’ve seen me in months, and you never had the decency to even ask how I was doing. Happy birthday? You want to make it happy? Then you give me what I want, pay me off! Then you need never see me again — if you don’t want me in your company, give me enough to start up a business of my own.’

Edward said nothing, but he removed from his case all the documents relating to the Ming company. He tossed them on to the desk.

‘Earn it, like I had to. Here, this is for starters.’

She watched him sign all the documents over to her. She was close to tears, desperate for him to hold her, comfort her, but he did nothing but flick through each page. Satisfied everything was in order, he replaced the top of his pen carefully, and picked up his cases. She still fought to keep her voice steady, fought not to cry.

‘You don’t care about me, just as you never cared for my mother. It was knowing about Evelyn, knowing about you and Barbara that killed her. I hate you, I hate you... and I always have.’

He couldn’t stand her harping voice, that vicious look on her face. Her words hit him hard and he felt sick to his stomach. She was looking at him with such loathing that he could say nothing, do nothing but walk out.

Jinks bathed her face, holding the cold cloth to her cheeks. She didn’t cry, couldn’t have cried now, it was too late. She returned to the lounge and looked once again through the papers.

Ten minutes later two men arrived, introducing themselves as her father’s brokers. They listened attentively as she explained that she would be handling the business with the Ming company. Hesitantly, she enquired about her father’s other interests. The two men looked at each other, and after a moment the younger one, Mike Doytch, was given the nod to speak. His blond, crew-cut head and chiselled features gave the impression of youth although he was in fact over forty. He coughed and loosened his collar.