Kingdom of Shadows. Barbara Erskine

Kingdom of Shadows - Barbara Erskine


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dead. I didn’t know what to do. The woman who looked after Aunt Margaret came and I helped her carry Clare to bed. She was terrified because she was supposed to have been looking after us. She put hot-water bottles at her feet and smacked her hands and face and in the end Clare woke up.’

      ‘And?’

      ‘That’s the strange part. She didn’t seem to remember anything about it. And no one ever said anything. You’re the first person I’ve ever told.’ James gave an embarrassed laugh. ‘It was shortly after that that she started getting attacks of claustrophobia – quite serious ones. I felt as guilty as hell.’

      ‘Hardly surprising,’ Paul said grimly.

      James grimaced. ‘Aunt Margaret blamed herself. I think she suspected that it was to do with the woman in the cage, but she didn’t know what I had done. She never told us that particular story again.’ He paused again. ‘The woman in the cage. I think she died at Duncairn.’

      ‘I see.’ Paul turned away, walking back to the window thoughtfully. There was a long silence, then at last he spoke. ‘It is my opinion, and that of our doctor, that Clare is heading for a nervous breakdown. To avoid such a thing happening, I am going to take as much as possible off her shoulders; take over the management of her affairs; send her away for a long rest so that she can get things back into perspective.’

      ‘And sell Duncairn while she isn’t looking,’ James said almost under his breath.

      Paul swung round. ‘I can see no merit in keeping the property. That hotel will be nothing but a drain on our resources. However, if there is really some family attachment to the place I am prepared to offer it to you first.’

      ‘At the same price Sigma are offering?’ James raised an eyebrow.

      Paul inclined his head slightly. ‘The property has become valuable and I am a businessman.’

      ‘How do you propose to get Clare’s agreement to all this?’

      ‘I will see to it that I get power of attorney.’

      ‘You mean you’re going to have her certified?’

      Paul noted the sudden indignation in his brother-in-law’s voice. ‘There is no question of that. She will give it to me willingly.’

      ‘You think so?’ James looked sceptical. He paused, then he shook his head. ‘Thanks for the offer, Paul, but I’m not interested in buying Duncairn. I wouldn’t do that to Clare, and besides, I’m not about to throw that kind of money into any property, whether it has oil or not. Nor am I sure anyway that I necessarily want to stand around and watch them put nodding donkeys all over the headland.’

      Paul gave him a withering look. ‘I didn’t see you as sentimental.’

      ‘No?’ James raised an eyebrow. ‘Perhaps you forget that I’m a Scot too, Paul. Aunt Margaret left the place to Clare because she thought I wouldn’t appreciate it fully. Perhaps she was right, I don’t know. But I wouldn’t have sold it. I may be a businessman, but to see Duncairn raped would hurt even me. I won’t go so far as to try and stop you selling; no one could ignore the kind of offer you’ve had, but I won’t stand and watch.’

      Paul inclined his head slightly. ‘Fair enough. We understand one another, I think.’

      James looked him in the eye. ‘Indeed we do,’ he said slowly. ‘Indeed we do.’

      Rex Cummin sat down on the white leather sofa and pulled the telephone towards him. Mary was out, and the flat was quiet. His cases still lay humped together in a heap in the lobby where he had dropped them as he came through the front door. It took him only a few moments to be connected with Alec Mitchison in Edinburgh.

      ‘I’ve received a letter from Mr Paul Royland, the owner’s husband.’ The crisp Scots voice, crackling with energy, came down the wire. ‘He says that Mrs Royland is unwell and he is handling her affairs. I gather he may be prepared to discuss matters.’

      Rex sat forward eagerly, his knuckles white on the receiver. ‘What did he say exactly?’

      ‘He says he would be prepared to meet you, that’s all.’

      ‘That’s enough.’ Rex took a deep breath. ‘Set it up, will you? In London or Edinburgh. Wherever he wants. You’ll be there, of course.’

      There was a pause the other end of the line. When the voice resumed it was heavy with disapproval. ‘You wish to reveal your identity so early in the negotiations, Mr Cummin? I would have thought that a grave mistake.’

      Rex could feel the sweat breaking out on his forehead. The supercilious Scotsman was right, of course, but he couldn’t wait. Not now. There wasn’t time. He took a deep breath.

      ‘I feel sure,’ he said slowly, ‘that Mr Royland and I can meet as private individuals. I will not mention my company’s identity at this stage. I will allow him to think that I am interested in developing the hotel.’ He knew Mitchison didn’t think he could pull it off; the man probably thought Royland knew about Sigma already. If so, so be it. They would negotiate with all the cards on the table. And he meant every card. As he put the phone down, he had already decided to find out all there was to know about Paul Royland. And he meant all. He was going to leave nothing to chance.

      Behind him the door opened and his wife appeared, laden with carrier bags. ‘Rex! When did you get in, honey? Why didn’t you say you were flying back today?’ She dropped the bags and kissed him on the cheek.

      Rex stepped back a little. ‘I came back sooner than I expected, that’s all,’ he said testily.

      ‘Is something wrong?’ His wife’s radar was finely tuned to every nuance of tone.

      ‘Nothing, honey, nothing. They are a load of old women back there in the States, that’s all. The drop in the price of oil is scaring the shit out of them.’

      ‘And they don’t want to invest any more in Europe?’

      He shrugged. ‘They haven’t said yes or no. They’re hesitating and while they hesitate, someone else is going to get his goddam hands on Duncairn.’ He walked over to the bar and reached for a bottle of Bourbon. ‘Except they’re not. The Royland woman’s husband has written to Mitchison. He’s prepared to talk. She’s ill apparently.’

      Mary sat down slowly, unbuttoning her white raincoat. She kicked off her shoes with a groan. ‘Poor woman. We must send her some flowers or something.’ She glanced at her husband and frowned. ‘Go easy on that stuff, honey, you know what the doctor said.’

      ‘That doctor is a fool.’ Rex refused to meet her eye. ‘I reckon he thinks I’m getting old. They all think I’m getting old.’ He drained the glass and slapped it down on the bar.

      ‘Were there problems in Houston, Rex?’ Mary asked gently.

      ‘Nothing I can’t handle.’ Hooking his finger into the knot of his tie he loosened it slowly. ‘I’ll be flying up to Aberdeen tomorrow and as soon as Mitchison can arrange it I’ll meet with Royland and get this deal tied up. Then perhaps that would be a good time to think about planning our retirement, what do you say?’ He turned away from her before he could see the alarm in her eyes.

      The roses glowed in the misty morning sunshine as Clare reached up to cut them from the back wall, putting them gingerly into her basket one by one. She swore as a thorn pricked her.

      Paul had driven straight to the office when he returned from Bucksters on Monday morning so she hadn’t seen him until yesterday evening when he had returned at about seven.

      ‘David and Gillian missed you,’ he said curtly as he walked in. ‘I explained that you were unwell.’

      ‘Was it a good party?’ She smiled at him tentatively, trying to gauge his mood.

      ‘Their parties are always amusing.’ He walked across to the sideboard and began to rummage in it for his whisky. ‘May I ask what you did all weekend?’


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