Molly

by Molly (retail) (epub)

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  The message that Molly received a couple of days later asking her to meet Adam at his office on the following Friday was not, in view of their previous conversation, unexpected. With the object of remaining as unruffled as possible she ran to the extravagance of a cab, and so arrived some minutes early for the appointment She took the smooth-running lift up to the fourth floor and was walking along the thickly carpeted corridor towards Adam’s office when the door of that office opened, and Etta and Adam stood framed in the doorway.

  “I told you, Etta. I have a business meeting.” Adam’s voice was firm.

  The pretty mouth pouted. “Couldn’t you—?”

  “No.” They were almost of a height. His hand was on her arm. She turned to him, tilting her shining brown head a little. Adam looked past her and saw Molly. “Mrs Benton,” he said.

  Etta drew back. Molly saw a flash of ill-temper in the suddenly narrowed eyes and the stiffened body. “My goodness,” Etta said lightly, “so it is. Good morning, Mrs Benton. Still busy?”

  “Yes.” Molly made little attempt to keep the brusqueness from her own voice.

  Etta turned back to Adam. “Well, I mustn’t keep you from your business, must I? You’ll be at dinner tonight?”

  Adam inclined his head in assent.

  “Good. About seven-thirty. Do come a little early, darling. We’ve got those boring Allingtons coming. I’m counting on you to keep me sane. Oh, dear, now look.” With a fluttering gesture she had dropped one of her gloves, which landed at Adam’s feet. “Silly me.” She made no attempt to retrieve it herself, but stood looking at Adam, waiting.

  Molly gritted her teeth.

  Adam, very carefully, bent to pick up the fallen glove. It was a painful manoeuvre to watch. Etta’s eyes flicked from Adam to Molly and back again. When Adam straightened his face was pale and his mouth hard with pain. He handed the glove to Etta, who accepted it with a small challenging smile, her colour high.

  “Thank you. Don’t bother to see me to the lift. I’ll see you tonight.” She swept past Molly with a bare inclination of the head.

  Adam led the way into the office; Molly followed, closing the door firmly behind her. Adam stood for a second at the desk, his back to her. Knowing him Molly guessed at the rage he was fighting. But when he turned, his face was peaceful and completely unforthcoming. Their eyes met, and there was an odd silence that lasted a moment too long before Molly broke it.

  “You wanted to see me.”

  The strange tension eased. “Yes.” Adam lowered himself into a large and comfortable chair behind the desk, waved Molly to a similar one. “I apologize for asking you to come here, but I thought that my office might be a little more—” he smiled “—comfortable than yours. I’m sure you’ve guessed why I wanted us to meet?”

  “You’ve decided to take me into your confidence regarding your new project,” she said bluntly.

  “More than that. I want you to join it.”

  She stared at him. She had been so absolutely certain that this meeting was to be an attempt to coerce her into selling Danbury’s, she had come so ready to defend herself and the business from any incursion, however devious or subtle, that she now found herself completely at a loss. She said nothing, but watched Adam suspiciously.

  He leaned forward, on his face an expression that she remembered well – totally absorbed, intense. “Let me explain. Don’t say anything until I’ve finished. And don’t go off the deep end. Don’t decide until you’ve heard all that I have to say and until you have given yourself a chance to think about it.” He took out a cigarette and lit it, studying it thoughtfully for a moment as he marshalled words. “As you know I’ve spent a good deal of time over the past few years in the United States. I’ve stayed in hotels from New York to New Orleans, from Pittsburgh to San Francisco. I’ve eaten in restaurants in Chicago, in St Louis, and in Miami. In none of these places have I ever been offered a drink without ice. I’ve eaten seafood a thousand miles from the sea, I’ve eaten Californian grapes in the depths of a New York winter—”

  “You can do that in London,” she said.

  “Of course you can. In the top-class hotels. The Savoy. The Ritz. Those that have their own cold-storage equipment, their own ice-making machines.” He knew that she had readily grasped the thought behind his words. He watched her.

  “Anyone can buy ice, from the Norwegian ships,” she said, “There’s no difficulty in that—”

  “Natural ice. Cut straight from the fiords and ice-fields. Cloudy. Difficult to handle. Machine-made ice is clear, easier and more attractive to use. Molly, listen to me. The luxury use of ice and cold storage is an industry about to boom. The Americans already have the ice-habit. It can only be a matter of time before it spreads over here. We can be in at the start. Oh, I’m not thinking of competing with the big fellows – the Australian frozen meat men, the fruit exporters. I’m not interested in the bulk markets. What I have in mind is a small, exclusive trade. Little hotels and restaurants in London who don’t have their own cold storage or ice-making equipment but who can be persuaded to see the advantage in using ours. We’ll offer them a luxury service. We’ll show them that they can compete with the top-class hotels. We’ll provide them with only the very best, the most carefully selected, quality goods.”

  “All these ‘we’s,” she said.

  He took no notice of the comment. “It will be a small volume of trade with relatively high profit margins. Our clients will discover that they are getting an excellent service that can only improve their reputations, their clientele, and therefore their profits. We’ll provide them with flowers from France for their tables, ice for their drinks, the very best quality meats and fish for their kitchens. All we have to do, Molly, is to educate them. To think ice. To think refrigeration. To think—” he paused, for effect “—to think Jefferson and Benton.”

  She did not move, nor did her expression alter by a flicker. “That sounds grand,” she said, drily. “Now, where’s the catch? I have to sell you the yard? Or put up the money? Or both?”

  He stubbed out the half-smoked cigarette. “Use your brains, girl. I’ve got the money and the know-how. You’ve got the land. And – well, we’ll talk about your other assets later.” He grinned like a boy, then sobered. “We could do it, Molly. Danbury’s land is perfectly sited. You have the men, the transport, the beginnings of an organization. We’d be partners.”

  “You and me? Partners?”

  “And Jack, of course,” he said easily. “And there’s some possibility that we might have to go to Joseph for extra finance. He’s got wind of the idea and is keen to join. And a lot of my assets are tied up at the moment, both here and in the United States. But to be truthful, I’d rather not call on Joseph.”

  “Why not?”

  “This is my baby. I’ve spent a lot of time and energy on it. I’d like to run it my way.”

  She notched that one up to be considered later.

  “Well?” he asked, “What do you think?”

  “I don’t know,” she said, honestly.

  “What can you lose? Danbury’s is failing. You’re very heavily in debt—”

  She picked that up sharply. “What makes you say that?”

  “It’s common knowledge,” he said flatly. “What isn’t common knowledge is that you’ve mortgaged the Venture Agency almost to the hilt to support Danbury’s. You’re in danger of losing much more than just the yard, Molly—”

  She jumped to her feet. “Who told you that?”

  He shrugged. “A little bird.”

  She faced him, glowing with fury. “Only three people know where that money came from. And only one of them has had any contact with you. What did you do, Adam, bribe him?” Her voice was bitter.

  He shook his head, watching her.

  “He’s fired anyway.”

  “That’s hardly fair. William Baxter, my dear, is totally devoted both to you and to Jack. Why make him pay for my sins? The f
act is that I already had an inkling. When I spoke to Baxter I spoke as if you had told me yourself. You can’t blame the old man for confirming it.”

  “How had you guessed?”

  “By making a few discreet enquiries.”

  “The religious brotherhood of money,” she said, scornfully.

  “Something like that, yes.”

  “I don’t think much of your business methods.”

  “You never did,” he said equably.

  “We couldn’t possibly work together.”

  “Couldn’t we? Are you absolutely certain of that? It would be a pity if it were so. For I haven’t yet told you of what I consider to be Danbury’s biggest asset.”

  “What’s that?”

  “You. Molly Benton, and her persuasive Irish tongue. To say absolutely nothing of her pretty Irish face and the cheek of the devil.”

  She nibbled her lip. The silence lengthened.

  “Why don’t you sit down again?” Adam suggested softly, “and I’ll tell you what I had in mind?”

  * * *

  “And just what does he expect you to do?” Nancy asked.

  Molly curled and uncurled the lock of hair that had fallen onto her forehead. “He wants me to sell the idea. To go around to the hotels and restaurants and persuade them to use the service. As I did with the agency when we first started. As I suppose you could say I’ve been doing with Danbury’s. He’s got it all worked out. He puts in the money and the contacts, we supply the land and the men. He’s the financial wizard, Jack handles the men and the day-to-day running of the place, I do the initial selling and the research into who wants what and when.”

  “What do you think? Do you fancy it?”

  Molly hesitated. “Yes. It’s no good pretending that I don’t. I wouldn’t admit it to Adam Jefferson, but it’s a gift from the gods, really. Danbury’s isn’t going to make it, Nancy, though I’ve not admitted that to anyone else. This is an opportunity for a fresh start. And it’s a damned good idea. With a bit of effort, a bit of hard work, it could take off.” She hitched herself onto Nancy’s desk and swung her feet, her head bowed in thought. “Two things worry me. One of them, I think I can sort out – and Adam himself has handed me the means.” She smiled, a little grimly. “He isn’t going to like it one bit. The other – well, the solution to my other problem depends upon you.”

  “Oh?”

  “Well, you must see? I can’t be in two places at once. It means leaving things as they are here for longer than we originally agreed.”

  “—Place runs itself—” Nancy said laconically. “You’ve got it going like clockwork.”

  “Nonsense. I couldn’t possibly do it without you.”

  Nancy, smiling, shrugged the words aside. “What is it that Mr Jefferson isn’t going to like?”

  Molly slipped from the desk, her expression pensive. “I think,” she said at last, “that I’m going to insist on a fourth partner. Joseph Forrest. I trust him,” she added obliquely.

  “And you don’t trust Adam Jefferson?”

  “I don’t trust myself, or Jack, to be smart enough to match him. Neither of us has eyes in the back of our heads. However small a share Joseph takes I feel it will be some kind of safeguard. Adam, I daresay, won’t like it – but then, let’s see just how keen he is to lay his hands on Danbury’s. I’ve quite made up my mind. And for the fourth shareholder Joseph is the obvious choice. In fact, from Adam’s point of view, he must be the best. Joseph will go along with almost anything Adam wants to do, I’m certain. It’s just that – well, if Adam wants to cut corners, then he’s bound to do it openly, that’s all. Joseph’s enthusiasm for Adam will be our safeguard.”

  Nancy shook her head admiringly. “Goodness. Who’s been teaching you such tricks?”

  Molly laughed a little. “You’d be surprised. Now comes the hardest part. I’ve got to convince Jack; we can’t do anything without him. Let’s hope he’s in a good mood.”

  “He’s in the parlour,” Nancy said. “That awful Langton man’s been with him for the best part of the afternoon, but I think he’s gone now.”

  Heading for the door, Molly held up crossed fingers. “Wish me luck.”

  He was, as Nancy had said, still in the parlour – alone. His legs were getting stronger by the day, there was a new look of vitality about him.

  “Well, lass,” he greeted her before she could open her mouth, “You can stop worrying. It’s all sorted, and I start back at the yard on Monday.”

  “Sorted?” she asked, taken aback.

  “That’s right. It’ll mean a bit of a change of course, but there you are, things can’t stay the same for ever, and if Danbury and Benton have to become a glorified builder’s yard to survive, well, I suppose it could have been worse—?”

  “A builder’s yard?” she looked at him in total incomprehension. “Jack, what are you talking about?”

  “The deal with Langton. Oh, I know you don’t care for him love, but there you are – ‘Where there’s muck there’s brass’, eh?” His laughter was a little strained.

  “What have you done?”

  “I told you. I’ve done a deal with Langton. He’s got this big contract for the new workers’ estates east of here. Thousands of houses. Back-to-backs. You know the kind.”

  “I know them.”

  “I’ve got the contract to haul his supplies. Bricks, timber, cement, tiles, the lot. And storage, too. We won’t make a fortune. Drives a hard bargain, does Bernie. But it’ll tide us over, any road. It’ll be years before those estates are finished. It won’t make millionaires of us, but by God it’ll keep our heads above water. What do you think of that?”

  Molly found her voice. “Have you actually signed anything?”

  “We don’t need that, lass. A word is a bond among friends.”

  “Something like that will take up almost all the yard.”

  “Aye, it will. Molly? You don’t seem overpleased?”

  “It didn’t occur to you to tell me?” she asked quietly. “Even to mention it to me?”

  He frowned. “Do I expect you to tell me what’s going on in the agency?”

  Caught in her own trap she said, “No. Of course not.”

  “Well, then. From now on you can stop worrying your head about Danbury’s. I’m back. If you ask me you should take a few days off. You’ve been working too hard. Come on, lass, how about a smile, eh?”

  She lifted her head and smiled tiredly. “I’d best go and see Effie about dinner.”

  * * *

  She walked the floor of Adam’s office, her boot heels clicking sharply on the polished wooden surface. Adam watched her in silence. She reached the window and stopped, staring sightlessly into the busy street, her arms crossed tightly before her, her small hands gripping her elbows.

  “And you didn’t even tell him?” Adam asked at last.

  “I couldn’t.” She spun on her heel, began her interminable restless pacing again. “How could I? What could I have said? – ‘Oh no, Jack dear, I’ve got other plans’? You don’t know him. You don’t know what it would do to him.”

  “But you do – ‘have other plans’?” Adam’s voice was soft.

  “Not any more.” She turned from him.

  “But you did think about my proposition? You did like it?”

  She stood with her back to him, drumming her fingers on the windowsill. “Yes.” The word was barely audible.

  “You would have gone ahead with it?”

  She swung around to face him. “Adam, I can’t. Don’t you see? Danbury’s isn’t mine to dispose of as I see fit. It’s Jack’s responsibility—”

  “—it’s your money—”

  “He doesn’t know that. And he isn’t going to know.”

  “Is this building contract a viable proposition?”

  “I suppose so, yes.” She dropped dispiritedly into a chair, “It’s worth years of good, steady, quiet work. And Bernie Langton has wrung blood out of Jack for pennies. But, as Jack point
ed out—” she pulled a wry face “—it’ll keep our heads above water.”

  “But it isn’t what you want?”

  “You know it isn’t.”

  “Then you have to tell Jack about our plans. Make him see that we have a better proposition. Show him the money he’ll make – the independence it will give him—”

  Very slowly she lifted her head, looked directly into his face, her eyes sombre. “You still don’t see, do you? After all this time you still don’t understand the kind of man Jack is? He has accepted Langton’s proposition. He has shaken hands on it. To Jack that’s sacred. It’s more binding than a dozen contracts, signed and sealed. You could show him the crown jewels and it wouldn’t change his mind. Expediency might be your watchword, Adam. It may, even, sometimes be mine,” she added, honestly, “but Jack doesn’t know the meaning of the word. I tried to explain that to you once before.”

  “I remember.”

  She held out her hand. “At least, this time, we can say goodbye in a slightly more civilized way.”

  He hesitated a fraction of a second before taking her proffered hand. “You won’t even try to talk him out of it?”

  “You have to take my word that there would be no point.”

  She walked to the door, turned as he opened it for her. “From now onwards you’ll be dealing with Jack, of course. On the fruit contract. He’s taking over again, from Monday. I – don’t suppose we’ll bump into each other again.”

  “Possibly not.”

  “Goodbye, then.”

  He smiled.

  “Au revoir.”

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Three days later the storm broke. Molly walked into the kitchen of The Larches to find Effie in tears, the twins watching her, wide-eyed, Kitty doing her best to comfort her. “Oh, Missis,” Effie sobbed, “’E swore at me! Swore at me! ’E ’ad no call ter do that, now did ’e? I was only tryin’ to ’elp—”

  “Who? Who swore at you, Effie?”