Hold the Dream

by Barbara Taylor Bradford

  Daisy rose and helped the weeping Edwina to her feet, escorted her out into the corridor. Bridget O’Donnell caught up with them.

  ‘I’m sorry, your ladyship,’ Bridget murmured.

  Edwina turned, stared at her, shook her head vehemently without speaking.

  Bridget went on, ‘I had to say what I said about Lady Dunvale because –’ There was the merest fraction of a pause before she finished sullenly, ‘Because it was the truth.’

  Daisy, observing her, thought: Oh no, it wasn’t. Startled at herself, she wondered what had prompted her to assume such a thing, and instantly dismissed the curious idea that Bridget O’Donnell had been lying. But the thought was to recur often and the housekeeper’s testimony would trouble Daisy for the longest time.

  Edwina swayed against her, and Daisy turned her attention to her half-sister. ‘Come, Edwina dear, sit down,’ she murmured with great gentleness and led her to a bench.

  Bridget rushed to help. ‘I’ll go and fetch you a drink of water, your ladyship.’

  ‘No!’ Edwina exclaimed. ‘I don’t want you to get me anything.’

  The sharpness of Edwina’s tone seemed to stun Bridget, and she stepped back uncertainly. ‘But your ladyship –’ she began and faltered.

  Ignoring her, Edwina opened her handbag and took out a compact, patted her red nose and tear-stained face with the powder puff. Bridget continued to gape at Edwina, her icy blue eyes filling with perplexity and then she edged nearer to the door leading into the coroner’s court. When she saw Michael Lamont emerging she hurried to his side.

  ‘Are you all right now, Edwina?’ Daisy asked, bending over the other woman, filled with concern.

  Edwina made no response. She rose and looked Daisy fully in the face. To Daisy it seemed as though an immense change had been wrought in her during the passing of only a few seconds. A veil of dignity had fallen over Edwina’s face and her bearing was suddenly regal, almost imperious.

  Finally she spoke, and her voice was clear, unusually strong. ‘I have just remembered who I am – I am Emma Harte’s daughter and my son is her grandson, and therefore we are made of sterner stuff than most people might think. It’s about time I made them realize that, and I also think it’s time that I stopped feeling sorry for myself.’

  A warm smile swept across Daisy’s astonished face. She reached out and grasped Edwina’s arm. ‘Welcome to the family,’ she said.

  CHAPTER 28

  Miranda O’Neill was laughing with such merriment tears sprang into her eyes.

  Recovering herself after a few seconds, she flicked the tears away with her fingertips. ‘Honestly, Paula, I’ve never heard such a load of nonsense in my life.’

  Paula said, ‘You’re confirming my suspicions…I thought Sarah was lying to me.’

  Searching her handbag for a tissue, Merry blew her nose, said, ‘Lying is rather a strong word – let’s just say that she fudged the facts. Or, to use one of Grandpop’s favourite phrases, she bent the truth to suit her purpose.’

  ‘So what really happened in Barbados?’ Paula probed. ‘She made it sound as if she worked like a galley slave.’

  ‘Oh rubbish! She had lots of help from the two local girls I’d engaged and the young woman who’s going to manage the boutique for us.’ Merry stood up, drifted over to the sofa positioned near the window in Paula’s office at the Leeds store.

  Watching her progress across the room Paula decided she had not seen Miranda looking so well for a long time. She had caught the sun in the Caribbean and her freckled face, usually so pale, had a soft tan that was most flattering to her, gave her an extra-special glow. She wore a fullskirted wool dress of an unusual ginger shade that enhanced the colour of her burnished copper hair, and her tawny eyes seemed more golden than hazel today. Paula could not help thinking of the autumn foliage in her garden at Long Meadow. Merry’s natural colouring and the clothes she had chosen echoed its russet hues perfectly.

  Draping herself on the sofa, Miranda explained: ‘The minute Sarah arrived she was obviously in that take charge mood of hers, very superior, bossy, even demanding. I volunteered to help in any way I could, but she practically ordered me out of the shop, said she could manage, thank you very much. Frankly, I was taken aback since she’s not really involved with us in the boutiques. But I decided to iet her have her way.’ The auburn brows met in a deep frown and her expressive face signalled her irritation. ‘She didn’t want me around, Paula, that’s the long and short of it. I was rather busy with other things in the hotel, but not too busy to check in several times a day by phone. And I went down every evening to see how the boutique was shaping up.’ Miranda’s wide-set eyes rested on Paula, grew quizzical. ‘Surely you knew I’d be on top of things?’

  ‘Naturally I did, silly. I’m only mentioning it because Sarah made such a fuss about the hard work she said she’d done. She also told me that she hadn’t enjoyed herself, implied that the O’Neills ostracized her.’

  ‘Now that is a downright lie!’ Miranda exclaimed, her annoyance more apparent than ever. ‘Both my father and Shane paid numerous visits to the shop, and she was invited to every single one of our special events.’ Miranda glanced at her hands thoughtfully, nodded to herself and looked up at Paula. ‘Well, perhaps she didn’t have any fun actually. She was certainly bizarre in the way she behaved. She seemed to think it was Shane’s duty to be her permanent escort, to drag her around with him wherever he went, and to pay constant court to her. Shane was awfully pleasant and patient under the circumstances – after all he was preoccupied with the hotel. We were all working, for God’s sake.’

  ‘I know you were,’ Paula answered. ‘And I didn’t really pay attention to the things she said…but I must admit I was a bit thunderstruck at first. And why would she lie to me? Surely she knew I’d find out from you what actually transpired.’

  ‘Sarah’s strange, lives in her own world.’ Miranda leaned forward, gave Paula a knowing stare. ‘Consider some of the rotten little things she did when we were children. And she’s always been full of her own importance. Smug. Self-satisfied. Look, I don’t think she merits this long discussion, do you? Let’s –’

  ‘There’s something I haven’t told you. The real reason she came to see me two weeks ago was to make me an offer…she wanted to buy the boutiques.’ Paula sat back, waiting for Merry’s reaction, aware that she would be angrier than ever. But she had to be told.

  ‘What a bloody cheek! Our boutiques! I’ve never heard of anything so outrageous in my life…where was her head? I mean, you’re a public company. I presume you sent her on her merry way and with a few choice words ringing in her ears. I hope you did!’

  ‘Yes, of course. But she wasn’t taking my no for an answer. She threatened to telex Grandy in Australia.’

  ‘And did she?’

  ‘No. She telephoned her at Dunoon. Can you imagine, bothering Gran like that? Anyway, Grandy made short shrift of her.’ Paula’s mouth worked with sudden amusement as she thought of her recent conversation with her grandmother. ‘When Sarah told Gran that she thought she should be allowed to buy the boutiques for her division, because of all her hard work, effort, brilliance, etcetera, Gran told me she said, “Oh really, Sarah, so that’s what you think, is it? Well, remember what thought did – followed a muck cart and thought it was a wedding.” Then Grandy told her that her suggestion was ill-conceived, ridiculous, and out of the question. She added that it would always be out of the question, advised Sarah never to dare to mention such a thing again.’

  ‘There’s nobody quite as pithy and scathing as Aunt Emma when she wants to be,’ Miranda said, and leaned back. ‘I assume dear Sarah got the message?’

  ‘I haven’t heard a whisper from her since.’

  ‘Well, that doesn’t mean anything, she’s busy with the summer line right now.’ A look of comprehension flitted on to Miranda’s face. ‘What you’ve just told me probably explains something – Sarah was awfully funny with me when I went up to Lady Ham
ilton Clothes the other day. I can’t say she was rude, because she’s always well mannered, but she was unusually standoffish, even for her. Not to digress, but it’s a lovely line by the way, and I hope you’ll see it when you’re in London next week. We ought to place our order soon, Paula.’

  ‘Yes, I know, and Gaye has made an appointment for me to go to the showroom. And whatever else she is, Sarah is a marvellous designer. The Lady Hamilton Collection has never been anything but stunning.’

  ‘Yes,’ Miranda said, thinking how generous and fairminded Paula was, and she constantly strove to find something positive in everyone. ‘Incidentally, Allison Ridley was at the fashion show, and she was strange with me as well, treated me as if I had a social disease.’

  ‘Probably because of Winston and Emily.’

  ‘What’s that got to do with me?’

  ‘You’re very close to Emily, and I hear that Allison’s extremely cut up about Winston. Quite broken-hearted, according to Michael Kallinski, who came in to see me yesterday. He told me she and Sarah have become very thick lately, and no doubt Allison regards you as a member of the enemy camp. Anyway, Michael said Allison’s thinking of moving to New York. Permanently.’

  Miranda was surprised. ‘Well, well, well…maybe she’s contemplating going into partnership with that friend of hers – Skye Smith.’

  There was such a disparaging note in Merry’s voice Paula glanced at her quickly. ‘Don’t you like Skye Smith?’

  ‘Not particularly,’ Merry answered, as usual being completely open and honest with her dearest friend. ‘I have to admit that she has been very nice to Shane since he’s been in New York. She’s given a few dinner parties for him and has introduced him to some of her friends, and he seems to like her. But –’ Merry’s voice trailed off, and she made a face. ‘She’s too good to be true, in my opinion, so sweet all the time, too sweet if the truth be known. She acts as if butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth, plays the innocent, but I can’t help feeling she’s quite experienced – where men are concerned. I said so to Shane, but he just laughed, thought it was very amusing. Winston tended to agree with me. I’m sure he’s told you that Shane had a small dinner party for us both at Twenty One when we were in New York last week. Well, it was actually for Winston – to celebrate the deal he made with the Canadian paper mill.’

  ‘I thought he hadn’t missed out one detail,’ Paula said slowly, ‘but obviously he did, since he made no mention of Skye Smith.’

  ‘Oh,’ Merry said, thinking this omission was odd. She hurried on, ‘But Skye was there. With Shane. And I had a chance to get to know her a bit better, observe her more closely. I came away from that dinner with the most peculiar feeling. I think she has something to hide – you know, about her past.’

  ‘What a strange thing for you to think, Merry.’

  ‘Isn’t it,’ Merry agreed. ‘And don’t ask me why I think it, because I can’t offer you a proper explanation. Instinct, perhaps, intuition on my part.’ Merry gave a tiny shrug. ‘Still, on the plane coming back to London with Winston, he and I had a long discussion about her, and we both decided she has a devious nature. He’s not very keen on her any more, even though he quite liked her when he and Shane first met her at Allison’s in the spring.’

  ‘Is it serious? I mean between Shane and her?’ Paula was surprised how tight her voice sounded and as her stomach lurched she realized that the idea of Skye and her old friend being involved troubled her. Her eyes did not leave Merry’s face.

  ‘I sincerely hope it isn’t! I don’t like the idea of her being around on a permanent basis. Winston thinks it’s only platonic, and he ought to know. By the way, talking of Winston, how’s Sally?’

  ‘Oh she’s much better. Anthony came over from Ireland about ten days ago and went immediately to Heron’s Nest, where Sally’s been staying. I spoke to them on the phone yesterday, and they’re benefiting from the peace and quiet, are glad to be alone together. Actually Anthony’s coming to see me this afternoon.’

  ‘What an awful time you must have had because of his wife’s death. I would have to be out of the country, wouldn’t I? I wish I’d been here, to give you moral support, Paula.’

  ‘Oh Merry, that’s sweet of you. But fortunately Emily was back from Paris, and she and I managed to keep each other going. We got through it, which is the main thing.’

  ‘Yes. But you do look tired,’ Merry ventured, using the mildest word she could find. From the moment she had arrived at the store she had been struck by Paula’s white, drained face, the dark shadows. Her friend looked quite ill to her. ‘Can’t you take a few days off? Get away somewhere for a rest?’

  ‘You’ve got to be joking! Look at this desk.’

  Merry made no further comment, deciding it would be wiser not to voice her worries about Paula’s health. She averted her face to conceal her anxiousness. Her eyes fell on the collection of family photographs on Emma’s large mahogany side table. A number of familiar faces gazed back at her – her grandparents, Blackie and Laura on their wedding day, her father as a baby lying on a fur rug, she and Shane when they were toddlers, her parents on the day of their marriage, and Emma’s children in various stages of growing up.

  Reaching for the largest photograph of the handsome man in an officer’s uniform, she studied it for a moment, then remarked, ‘Your mother looks a lot like Paul McGill. Yes, Aunt Daisy has her father’s eyes. But then, so do you.’ Glad she had found a way to change the subject, she added, ‘But the frame’s dented, Paula. You ought to get it fixed for Aunt Emma. It’s such a shame. Why, this is a really lovely piece of silver. An antique.’ Merry held up the frame, pointed to the damage.

  ‘Grandy doesn’t want it repaired,’ Paula told her with a faint half-smile. ‘When I said the same thing a couple of years ago, she laughed and told me the dent was part of her memories.’

  ‘What did she mean?’ Merry asked.

  ‘My grandfather didn’t return to England after the end of the First World War. He stayed in Australia. The story is a bit involved, but one day, in a moment of rage and frustration, Gran threw his picture across the room – that particular picture in that very frame. The glass shattered, the frame was dented, but she kept it nevertheless. She told me that ever since then, whenever she looked at his photograph, she reminded herself to trust love. She thinks that if she had trusted Paul when he disappeared – trusted his love for her – she would have had absolute faith in him, would have waited for him to come back. She believes she would have saved herself the terrible years of heartache she suffered during her dreadfully unhappy marriage to Arthur Ainsley.’

  ‘But Paul and she did get back together in the end, had years of happiness,’ Merry said softly, her expression suddenly disconsolate.

  ‘You do sound unhappy, Merry. Love problems yourself? None of your old boyfriends around, is that it?’ Paula looked sympathetic.

  Merry nodded. ‘No new ones either. I seem to have nothing but bad luck in that department these days. Most of the men I’ve gone out with in the last few months can’t seem to see beyond the O’Neill money, my looks and my so-called sexuality. I’m getting more leery by the minute.’ Merry grimaced. ‘I’ll probably end up being an old maid. Emily’s lucky, snagging Winston the way she did. At least she knows he’s in love with her and not her bank balance. Especially since he’s got a pretty hefty one of his own.’

  ‘Oh Merry, not every man is after money –’ Paula began and stopped, recognizing there was a grain of truth in Merry’s statement. Being an heiress did have its manifold disadvantages, although money was only one of them.

  Miranda was silent. After a moment she said, ‘Perhaps. The trouble is that the men I meet are simply not able to see beyond their noses, past the externals, to the person I am, to the real me. I’m not a fairy tale princess, for heaven’s sake. I work jolly hard and carry quite a load of responsibility at O’Neill Hotels International. And I have very real values, as you’re aware. Shane and I were brought up to und
erstand the value of a pound note, just as you were. And my father and grandfather aside, they all instilled, Aunt Emma certainly drilled enough sense into me during those summers at Heron’s Nest.’

  Paula said, ‘Yes, I understand what you’re trying to say. People do have funny ideas about us, don’t they? But nothing is ever the way it seems – to outsiders anyway.’

  Walking over to Paula’s desk, Merry sat down in the chair opposite, her sadness mirrored in her tawny eyes. Her face became more downcast. ‘I’ll tell you something else, Paula, I’d much prefer to marry a man I’ve known all my life, who loves me for myself, for what I am as a person, and not for what he imagines me to be. The other day I came to the conclusion that I don’t want to get seriously involved with a fascinating stranger. To hell with fascinating strangers, they spell trouble and are frequently full of nasty surprises. If it’s not the money, then it’s the power they crave. Then there are the sex maniacs, the chaps who’re only interested in hopping into bed.’ She smiled wryly. ‘As Shane keeps saying, sex is easy to come by but love is hard to find. That brother of mine happens to be right in this instance.’

  Anthony said, ‘It’s awfully good of you to spend all this time with me this afternoon, Paula. I really appreciate it, and I’d just like to say again that you’ve been wonderful through this most difficult period. I can’t tha –’

  Paula held up her hand. ‘If you say thank you to me once more I’ll turf you out of my office.’ She lifted the teapot and poured him a second cup of tea. ‘I’m glad to be of help when I can, and let’s not lose sight of the fact that you’re a member of this family.’ She gave him a small but warm smile. ‘Besides,’ she added quickly, ‘I’m not all that busy this afternoon,’ resorting to the white lie in order to make him feel better. ‘Now, to answer your question, I think Grandy would be upset – very upset actually – if you and Sally got married before she returns from Australia.’