by Wendy Reakes
Chapter 38
Whilst Ben was with his father, Katherine entered a building two blocks away. Don Banks Brewers took her call just an hour ago and when she asked to speak to the person in charge of acquisitions, he agreed to allow her to come right over.
She went in through the main entrance, at the front of the building next to the Manchester Ship Canal. It was a typical northern construction, once a brewery, now converted to modern offices, with exposed brick arches and high ceilings and old pipes painted cream, running over the walls as an authentic feature. Around the reception area, black and white photographs of the old brewery adorned the walls. They had been stretched over huge canvases showing the old work-horses, men operating machinery with blackened faces, and women in long skirts mopping floors or typing. A modern desk sat at the rear of the area and brown leather seats were positioned to the side, next to occasional artificial indoor potted plants.
She crossed the carpeted area and approached the reception desk where a blonde head was popping out over the top. What was it with big companies, Katherine wondered, when they put the people who were supposed to offer a welcome, behind a desk, thus obscuring them from view? She leaned her arm on the top of the counter. The receptionist was staring at a computer screen. When she didn’t look up Katherine said, “I have an appointment with Mr. Sharp. Katherine Killa!”
The girl cast her eyes to some sheets in front of her. She nodded and pointed to a book on the counter. “State your name and address, time of arrival, car registration if any, and then sign.”
Katherine grinded her teeth at the abrupt and discourteous manner of the girl. She accepted a badge to hook onto her breast pocket but she was wearing a cream coloured woollen sweater over a knee length skirt and brown suede tasselled boots.
“It’s to hook over your breast pocket,” the girl said.
Katherine wanted to put the woman in her place, but she didn’t want to risk missing her appointment. “Please let Mr. Sharp know I’m here.” She hooked the ID onto her bag hanging from her shoulder. She took a quick glance at the receptionist’s own permanent badge; Shelley Bride. For some unknown reason, she felt like she needed to remember that name.
Richard Sharp was polite, respectful and courteous, just as Katherine had imagined he would be since they’d spoken on the telephone earlier. After her encounter with Shelley Bride, she was more than a little relieved. She sat down and came straight to the point, “I’d like to enquire about purchasing the Coach & Horses in Ashton.”
“The Coach & Horses,” he said, pondering the name. Out of a drawer beneath his desk, he pulled a large bundle of computer print-outs with holes running down the sides. Pointing his finger down the green lined paper, he expertly flicked the pages as he went, finally coming to rest on Coach & Horses The.
Katherine hadn’t realised she’d been holding her breath in anticipation but now she was breathing again. “Ah yes. The Coach & Horses,” he said as he read the data. Katherine tugged at the neck of her sweater, pulling it away from her skin. It was hot in there. Richard Sharp picked up the phone and pressed a button. “Sally, get Paul Hughes for me, please.” There was a pause. “Hi, Paul…. The Coach & Horses! Any news on that?” Another pause. “Ah! I see. That’s too bad.” Katherine’s mouth feels dry. She picked up her coffee cup from the tray in front of her and downed it in one. “Yes, yes that’s right,” he was saying. “I see. Okay, yeah!” Then he hung up. “It seems we’ve been refused planning permission again so The Coach & Horses will go on the market. There’s just one problem…”
Her heart was thumping as she found herself wondering why she was so anxious. Why did she want to take on such a huge project? What was it about the Coach & Horses that was so important to her? Was she finally losing her mind?
Richard Sharp continued. “We don’t sell individual outlets and we make it a rule not to sell to private buyers. It’s the competition factor you see.”
She didn’t see. “What does that mean exactly?”
“The Coach & Horses will be sold along with three other units as a job lot. So, if you want to acquire that one site you’d have to acquire all four.” Her eternal optimism was suddenly diminishing. “Even then, you could only buy the leases…Although that would make the capital you need to secure them considerably less than if you were to buy them outright. Finally, you would only be considered as a potential purchaser, if you formed a company.”
“What sort of figures are we be talking about?” She didn’t even know why she was asking. Four restaurants would be too big for her to handle. Way too big! She only wanted The Coach & Horses because she’d liked the look of it. The other three probably wouldn’t have the same appeal and she didn’t feel experienced enough to take on an entire fleet.
“I would say you’d be looking in the region of two-hundred-thousand pounds and then whatever you require for the renovations. The four houses are pretty run down. We’d only be selling them because we couldn’t put our own brands in, for one reason or another.”
“Mr. Sharp?” she said. “Can I have the name of the three other units, and perhaps some financial history of all four?”
“I can have the figures ready for you before you leave here.”
She stood up to shake Richard Sharp’s hand. “Thank you for being so helpful. I’ll be in touch.”
He kept hold of her hand until she pulled it away. “But…there’s still the matter about us selling to a private bidder,” he said. “It’s just not within our policy.”
“That’s not a problem. I already have my own company,” Katherine said with confidence. “It’s Killa Country Restaurants Ltd. We’re based in Ealing.”
Chapter 39
They arrivedat theWillington’s at seven sharp.
Katherine was feeling excited about being in the same house that Ben’s mother had worked in all those years ago. “Think of it Ben,” she said, holding his arm as they stood in the reception hall, waiting to be announced. “All the drama that went on…This house is where you were actually conceived.”
“Well, I’m happy you’re enjoying yourself,” he said sarcastically, “but it’s not that thrilling for me.”
Ben claimed to be unimpressed with the story behind his conception, saying he preferred to focus on the present rather than the past. He fiddled with his bow tie; a sign that he was impatient to get the ordeal over with. A maid cradled our coats over her arm as the doors to the main salon opened. Lance Willington and his wife, Marjorie, stepped out and welcomed them like old friends.
Katherine liked them instantly. Lance was very tall and thin with a full head of grey hair. Marjorie was also tall but she was willowy, elegant and refined and had clearly been very beautiful once. She still was! She greeted Benjamin with genuine affection which prompted Katherine to determine the woman had a fine character.
“May I introduce you to Lucy?” Marjorie said, taking them through into the opulent drawing room. Lucy was short and plump with wired frame glasses perched on her nose. “Lucy’s sixteen and already she’s decided to follow in the tradition of the family and take up medicine. We’re very pleased,” Marjorie said.
Katherine nodded her approval. “Which field?”
“Optometry! Like her father,” Marjorie answered on Lucy’s behalf.
“And this is Jane.” She was tall and pretty like her mother.
“I’m pleased to meet you.”
Jane Willington looked at Benjamin and then her father, perhaps to see if there was a likeness. “I’ve only recently learned of you, Benjamin,” she said. “So you’ll have to forgive me if I’m a little shocked.”
Marjorie tactfully interrupted any potential revelations. “Katherine! What can I offer you to drink?”
“Come on, Ben,” Lance said placing his hand on Ben’s shoulder. “Let’s relax and we can talk later, eh!”
Dinner was superb. Five sumptuous courses, provided by the resident cook. Over dinner, Marjorie offered some insight into the history of the house, expl
aining how the family came to live there. “Lance’s grandfather bought the house in 1917,” she said, “And the dining room we are now sitting in was once the surgery and operating room used by Lance’s father before the Second World War.” Marjorie explained how, when his father passed away, Lance inherited the house even though his mother was still living. Lance and Marjorie, his bride of three-years, went to live there soon after. “Only after some minor alterations were made to the interior décor,” she whispered to Katherine alone. “His mother wasn’t very comfortable with the improvements we made, so she took to her room on the first floor and didn’t leave until the day she died.”
Katherine’s eyes widened as the big family secret was exposed but at the other end of the table Lance brought the discussion to a close with a discreet cough, clearly preferring not to discuss his mother and her eccentricities.
“The cook is still here,” Marjorie continued. “She’s very old now, seventy-two I think but she’s got all her faculties. I don’t know what we’ll do when she wants to retire. We’ll never replace her.” Marjorie stared at Lance across the table, suggesting it was an ongoing issue for them. “She would have known your mother, Benjamin.” Everyone fell silent as Ben downed the last of his wine.
“Shall we leave the ladies, Ben?” Lance raised himself out of his chair. “I’ve got some cigars if you’d care to indulge.”
“Not for you, Lance dear,” Marjorie said.
Lance heldthe door open as Ben walked past him into the study. The walls were covered in authentic wood panelling and the smell of polish and oiled leather filled the room. Katherine would love this, Ben pondered, appreciating her passion for interiors. Crazy woman! He smiled to himself as he sat down in a brown leather wing-back chair.
“You’ve got a nice family,” Ben said, feeling the need to congratulate his father for not being what he’d expected him to be.
“Are you surprised?”
“Truthfully, yes,” he said slowly. “Since my mother told me about you, I had you down for a heartless prick. Spoilt rich kid and all that!”
“Well, we were rich and if it had been left to my mother my brothers and I would have been spoilt but my father was a good man and he kept us grounded. When I met your mother, I was very young. I was at med school and I hated it. I couldn’t bear the thought of cutting through flesh or watching someone suffer pain. It was my father’s idea for me to specialise in optometry, allowing me to use my education and stay in the medical profession. He was always very practical.”
“Why did you invite me here?” Ben interrupted. He was confused about the man who was his father. “Why did you want me to meet your family?”
“I’ve always planned it that way,” Lance said. “I always told myself if you looked me up, I would be as kind to you as I could be. What happened wasn’t your fault and you are after all my own flesh and blood, Benjamin.”
“But I could have been anyone…an undesirable…a drug addict or something. You could hardly have introduced me to your family then.”
“An undesirable who has his own restaurant in Covent Garden. I don’t think so!”
“But you didn’t know that then. I’ve only just told you about myself tonight.”
“I’ve always known.” Lance smiled. “I looked you up years ago. It was by chance actually. A very good friend of mine knew your mother’s second husband, Gregory Spender. When he died and your mother had to sell the house, she sold it through my friend; her solicitor. Because of the legalities involved, she had to provide her birth certificate and so her real name became known.” Lance continued, unaware that Ben didn’t know his mother had changed her name. “There aren’t many women around here called Bette Davis. My friend made the connection and told me about the woman who’d sold her house and bought a hairdresser’s salon in Didsbury. He also told me the woman had a son called Benjamin Corner.” He watched Ben’s reaction to his frank confession. “After that, I kept tabs on you and I even visited your restaurant once.”
“Why didn’t you make yourself known to me?”
“I couldn’t guarantee your mother had told you about me. I didn’t want to risk jeopardising your relationship with her. It seemed more sensible to keep a wide berth.” Lance shook his head. “But that’s not to say I haven’t cared about you for all that time, son.”
“Son! You call me son. I’m thirty-seven years old, for Christ sake.”
Lance opened a drawer to his right and pulled out a leather folder. He opened it and started to write a cheque. “The reason I wasn’t very receptive with you today is because I didn’t want you to think I was a pushover. If I’d given you this in my office, I don’t think I would have had a chance to get to know you like this.” He tore off the slip and handed it across the desk to Ben. “It’s half of the money you need. Fifty thousand! I hope it will help.”
Ben looked at the cheque, shocked by the simplicity of the whole transaction. “Why are you giving me this now? You must know I would never have asked you for this after tonight.”
“Yes, I think I know that. And I appreciate that sentiment. Let’s just say I owe you but I also believe you should be responsible for your own debts, which is why I’m not giving you the full amount.”
“I can’t take this.” Ben offered the cheque back to Lance.
“Yes, you can. And there’ll be more, one day…when I’m gone.”
Ben regarded Lance Willington with a frown. “You’re a Bobby!” he said under his breath.
“What?”
“Nothing! It’s a private joke! Forget it.”
Chapter 40
She watchedhim as they rode in a taxi back to their hotel. He’d been quiet most of the evening and he still hadn’t told her about the talk he’d had with his father after dinner.
As Ben remained silent, glancing out of the taxi window, Katherine mulled over the events of her day and the meeting with the brewery. She thought about the talk she’d had with the bank; her plans for The Coach & Horses and the other three pubs, if she was lucky enough to secure them. If it all went through, she’d have a chain of restaurants, which was quite a daunting prospect. Frankly she was doubtful she could even pull it off.
“How about a nightcap?” Ben said as they walked through the hotel lobby. He put his hand on the small of her back and steered her towards a quiet table at the far end of the bar.
A waiter served them two brandies. “You know I don’t drink brandy, Ben,” she said as he swilled his own around the glass. She called over the waiter. “Bring me a dry white wine and soda, please. No ice.”
After Ben finished his brandy he took the one he’d ordered for Katherine and slid it across the table. He held it to his lips. “If you don’t mind?” he said.
“Help yourself.” She hated the mood he was in. She’d seen it many times in the past and there was never really a way out of it other than a good night’s sleep. He was such a baby. “What happened tonight?”
“Let’s not talk about that now, Kath. I’ve had enough of Lance Willington and his family.” He leaned forward and put his hand on hers resting on the arm of the chair. “Stay with me tonight,” he said.
She pulled her hand away. “What’s the matter, Ben, feeling all vulnerable now are you?”
“That’s not very nice.” He pouted deliberately. “It’s been a difficult day for me. You know that.”
She leaned forward. “Tell me something. Why did you bring me with you?”
“What do you mean?”
“You would have managed pretty well on your own today. You didn’t need me here, so why did you bring me? Was it to keep you warm in bed?”
“Well, I was hoping for a bit more than that,” he joked. His glass was resting on his knee. “Oh come on, Kath. Stop being so sensitive. You know what I’m like. I’ve been on edge about this trip all week and I just wanted you with me. I didn’t want to face Lance Willington alone, that’s all. Besides you managed to get some shopping in didn’t you?”
“Actu
ally, no!” she said, nonchalantly. “If you must know, I went to see someone about buying a chain of restaurants.” As soon as the words came out of her mouth she could have kicked herself. She was showing off, trying to take Ben Corner down a peg or two and now she was going to have to tell him about it or look ridiculous for even mentioning it.
He leaned closer. “What’s this?”
Now she was embarrassed. She didn’t need his approval. “It’s nothing.”
“Come on!”
She shrugged. “I went to see someone about that pub we had lunch in today. To find out if I could buy it, that’s all.”
“Well. You sneaky ol’ dark horse you,” Ben teased. “What happened?”
“Well…” She was reluctant to tell him her news but in the end she couldn’t help herself. Her voice oozed enthusiasm as she explained how the day had panned out. “It comes with three others. I reckon I’ll have to raise about three-hundred-thousand pounds to buy the leases and renovate them.” She smiled.
“That’s great.”
She scoffed at his response. “What’s so great about it? How do I find that sort of money?”
“Borrow it. Three-hundred grand is peanuts. You’ve already got the success of Kathy’s under your belt. The bank will grab the chance to finance more, as long as you have a formula.”
For once she felt happy to have his support. He didn’t do it very often. “Do you really think so?”
“Too right. And if it all goes wrong, it's the bank's loss, not yours. You just start again.”
“Losing isn’t an option for me, Ben. If I do it, it has to be successful. I can’t live any other way.” The thought of failing made her feel sick to the stomach. She didn’t share her feelings with Ben very often so it felt strange now, tonight of all nights. “Will you come with me to talk to the bank tomorrow? Just to get a feel of things.”