Meredith’s face paled. Liz knew she recognized that having Liz Asgill on board would be a vital, even non–negotiable part of any deal. When she spoke, her mother’s voice was quiet and measured, her eyes icy blue.
‘You would be deliberately sabotaging any negotiations by withdrawing your involvement.’
Liz was glad they were in the rarefied surroundings of the restaurant. Meredith could be fiery when roused. Nothing that was a match for Liz, of course, but Liz preferred to do her business dealings in situations where she could control the heat and tempo of the situation.
‘There are other options, Mother,’ she said calmly. ‘I’m sure if given the choice, you would rather not sell Asgill’s in a cut–price deal. Father would turn in his grave, for one thing.’
‘Elizabeth …’ began Meredith, her voice low and full of warning.
‘Hear me out,’ said Liz. ‘As I say, there is another way, a way in which you get to keep the company, William can keep control, and I will keep doing what I do best.’
Meredith sipped her wine. ‘Carry on.’
‘It’s very simple: I will buy Skin Plus and I will pay a good price. You can pay off the debts and it’s an ideal opportunity to streamline the company, kill off some of the lines that are long past their sell–by date, and pump cash into the areas that have potential: The Balm, the fragrances, and so on.’
‘You’re cutting off your own family,’ said Meredith, her elegant nostrils flaring.
‘This is not a hostile act, Mother,’ said Liz smoothly. ‘This is win–win. I’ll even keep my position on the Asgill board if you think you can benefit from my skill–set.’
She had to use every ounce of restraint to stop the latter part of that sentence dissolving into sarcasm. If her mother thought for one minute that this approach was rooted in her daughter’s bitterness – or the truth, hatred – she would dismiss it without a moment’s thought. Liz knew that she had definitely got her ruthlessness from her mother’s side of the family. Meredith stared at Liz and she could almost see the thought process going on inside her head.
‘And where do you propose getting that sort of money?’
Liz popped a sliver of foie gras into her mouth and let it melt on her tongue before she replied. ‘This is an in principle conversation, Mother,’ she smiled. ‘But I think I may have some interest.’
Meredith shook her head slowly, never taking her eyes from Liz. ‘Let me discuss it with your brother.’
Liz nodded and signalled to the waiter to clear their plates. But inside, she was jumping for joy.
CHAPTER FORTY–FIVE
Tess leant forward in her seat and waved a hundred–dollar bill at her Hawaiian taxi driver.
‘Here’s your tip if you can go any faster,’ she said. For the first time in her life, she had missed her flight and had to wait around JFK for eight hours to get on the next one to Hawaii’s Big Island. And now she was late – very, very late. So late, in fact, she would barely have time to change out of the jeans and T–shirt she had worn on the plane, let alone have a pre–pageant meeting with Sean Asgill.
In the rear–view mirror she saw the driver smile, then nod, while making no apparent effort to hurry up.
We’re not in New York any more, she sighed, consoling herself with the thought that this was a baby–sitting gig, not a life–or–death business appointment. Suddenly, the driver swung right into a palm–tree–lined drive and under an archway reading ‘Welcome to the Aloha Grand Hotel.’
‘Oh. We’re here?’ said Tess, quickly putting the hundred–dollar bill back into her purse. She stepped outside into the balmy, sweet–scented evening air, took her wheelie–case off the driver, ignoring his upturned hand, and bolted for her suite.
Already it was dark, and from the noise of Hawaiian drums and cheers coming from the beach, the pageant was clearly reaching some sort of crescendo. Throwing on an olive silk wrap dress and some silver Jimmy Choo sandals, Tess raced downstairs and out to the long lawns by the beach where the pageant stage had been erected. Either side of the stage were bleachers full of cheering frat–house boys and, in the centre, at least fifty tables of sponsors, press, and Hawaiian dignitaries. Tess was amazed at the scale of the event. The pageant was clearly big business, much more than some lame publicity stunt for Asgill’s Hawaiian Glo suntan lotion. She flashed her pass at security and slipped into a table at the back. The event was part Hawaiian luau, part beauty contest, and while the final girls in the competition slipped into their evening wear, the stage was filled with a fire–eating and hula dancing display. Finally, after much whooping from the drunken frat boys, five girls paraded back on stage in jewelled gowns cut low in the front and high on the thigh.
The master of ceremonies, a rotund Hawaiian in an electric blue blazer, lifted his microphone.
‘Ladies and gentlemen,’ he chimed. ‘Please welcome, from Asgill’s Hawaiian Glo, Mr Sean Asgill!’
Sean bounded on stage, his white teeth flashing in the Polynesian darkness.
‘The moment of truth, ladies and gentlemen,’ he said, his voice popping in the PA, ‘What we’ve all been waiting for … ’
‘He’s so cute, don’t you think?’ whispered a blonde to her left.
Tess smiled weakly. ‘Too many teeth for my liking.’
There was a drum roll and Sean ripped open a silver envelope with a flourish.
‘And the winner is … ’ He paused for effect, then looked down at the card, feigned surprise, then pleasure. Yeah right, thought Tess. As if you didn’t have her all picked out from the start.
‘Candy Cooper!’ he cried, as the crowd went wild and an incredibly curvaceous brunette wearing a sash reading ‘Miss Asgill Hawaiian Glo Oregon’ stepped up to be crowned Miss Asgill Hawaiian Glo.
It took Tess ten minutes to push through the sea of people heading for the free bar once the official ceremony was over. Where is he? seethed Tess. After I rushed all that bloody way …
Finally she saw a poolside gazebo that seemed to be doubling as the VIP bar. As she turned the corner, she saw Sean engrossed in conversation with Candy Cooper.
He glanced up and his face fell.
‘Aloha,’ said Tess, sitting down next to him and Candy.
‘So the nanny’s finally arrived,’ Sean deadpanned.
‘Finally?’ said Tess as casually as she could.
‘My mother phoned about three hours ago. Apparently you and I were supposed to have a meeting before the pageant to discuss press coverage.’
Tess didn’t speak, determined not to show her discomfort.
‘I said you hadn’t checked in and presumed you weren’t coming.’
‘You said what?’ she replied, her cool cracking.
Sean’s face creased up and he started to chuckle. ‘I could have said that, but I didn’t,’ he laughed. ‘I said we’d just touched base and how you had everything under control.’
Tess was grateful but didn’t want to show it too much. ‘My flight was delayed,’ she said crisply.
Candy Cooper flicked her long bouncy beauty–queen hair over one shoulder. ‘I hate flying, don’t you?’ she said, oblivious to the conversation. ‘It’s so bad for the skin.’
Tess nodded politely, trying to assess Candy’s age – sixteen? Eighteen? – when she saw Candy’s hand casually slide up Sean’s thigh.
‘Okaayyy,’ said Tess quickly, standing up and taking Candy’s arm. ‘I think it’s about your bedtime.’
Candy pulled her arm away, pouting. ‘Says who?’
‘Says me,’ replied Tess. ‘I’m the personal representative of Meredith Asgill, the woman who has the final say on whether your face ends up on a thousand Hawaiian Glo posters or whether winning this pageant is the highlight of your career.’
‘Tess,’ said Sean angrily.
She glared at him, then turned back to Candy.
‘Beauty sleep time,’ she said, pointing towards the hotel.
Sulkily, Candy did as she was told. Sean stood up and
stormed out of the gazebo. Tess followed, matching him stride for stride. As he reached the beach, he stopped and turned to face her.
‘What the fuck was that all about, exactly?’
‘That was about Candy Cooper being a statutory rape allegation waiting to happen.’
‘Well, if you’d been there at the beginning of the pageant you’d have heard that Candy is nineteen,’ said Sean sarcastically.
‘Which makes it okay to have sex her?’ asked Tess, her hands on her hips. ‘And anyway, what about that actress, what’s her name? Annabel something? Aren’t you supposed to be dating her?’
‘Like you care about Annabel,’ snapped Sean.
‘Sean, I care about doing my job.’
‘Well do it without being such a bitch then!’ he shouted.
‘I’m not being a bitch,’ she said as coolly as she could. ‘I’m doing what you pay me for.’
‘You really are a piece of work,’ he said under his breath, and stalked back towards the hotel. This time, Tess let him go. She took off her shoes and wandered along the beach, feeling the still–warm sand between her toes. It was so tranquil, so relaxing; she felt a wave of tiredness consuming her. I need a shower and a sleep, she thought wearily. Glancing at her watch, Tess realized it was getting late.
‘Ah bugger, the volcano!’ she said suddenly, pulling up the hem of her dress and running towards the hotel lobby.
‘Can I help you, madam?’ asked the girl behind the ‘Guest Relations’ desk.
‘Can you book me onto the volcano flight on Sunday?’ panted Tess. ‘And what about this swimming with dolphins package? Is that any good?’
The girl was nodding. ‘It’s a once–in–a–lifetime experience. Three hundred dollars, but the best stress reliever you’ll find anywhere.’
‘Stress reliever sounds perfect,’ replied Tess gratefully.
Just then she heard laughing behind her.
‘I hope the dolphins know what they’re getting into. I should think they’ll come out needing a holiday.’ Sean Asgill was standing six feet away, leaning against a pillar with a cynical smile.
‘What do you want?’ Tess scowled at him, but Sean held up his hands.
‘I came to say sorry for shouting at you,’ he said. ‘I just felt a little frustrated to be denied female company. You were probably right.’
Tess nodded graciously.
‘Apology accepted, now if you’ll excuse me … ’
‘Hey, I thought I wasn’t to be left alone,’ said Sean. ‘I thought that’s what Mommy wanted.’
‘Just during the pageant,’ said Tess. ‘Tomorrow I am officially on holiday and, as I haven’t had a day’s break in six months, I’d like to plan my day without you scoffing in the background.’
Sean winked at the girl behind the desk.
‘Charge all that to my room. And can you confirm my taxi for seven a.m.?’
‘Certainly, Mr Asgill.’
‘Come on,’ he said, taking Tess by the arm and leading her towards the bar. ‘If you’re really that stressed, then I have the perfect solution. The Asgill Zombie, it’s a cocktail I invented back in my darker days.’
Tess flashed a look at him.
‘Don’t worry, not me … I think you could do with a couple. Think of it as a peace offering.’
‘Sean, we’re not at war … ’ began Tess, looking up towards the bar.
And it was then that she saw him, walking out of the bar. He was older, more tanned, but it was definitely him. Her heart leapt into her mouth. She couldn’t believe she had come halfway across the world only to bump into the one person she never wanted to see again. Grabbing Sean, she swung him around in front of her.
‘Please,’ she hissed, ‘Just stay there.’
She felt Sean’s grip tighten protectively around her.
‘What’s wrong?’ he asked, looking around.
‘Shhh … ’ whispered Tess, ‘he’ll hear. He’s walking over to the lobby.’
Tess peeked around Sean’s shoulder, watching the man enter the lift. Her shoulders sagged with relief as she saw the doors close.
‘What was all that about?’ asked Sean with concern.
‘Can we go back outside?’ said Tess. ‘He might come back to the bar.’
‘Do you want to come to my cottage?’ said Sean. ‘It’s away from the main drag, by the beach.’
She nodded and rushed out of the hotel.
‘I’m sorry, you must think I’m stupid,’ she said when they were safely away from the building.
Sean shrugged. ‘No. I think you’ve just seen something that’s upset you or bothered you.’
They walked silently towards a row of four cottages by the shore.
‘Thanks,’ she said finally, walking into the living space. Sean threw his keycard on the side and picked up the telephone.
‘I asked for the minibar to be cleared before I came so I’ll have to order you something from the hotel.’
‘I thought you were drinking cocktails earlier?’
‘Cream and pineapple. Totally nonalcoholic but very sickly. I wouldn’t recommend it. ‘
Tess went outside and sat on a lounger by the small pool, shining like a sheet of sparkling tourmaline, while Sean made the call to room service. He walked out and sat next to Tess. ‘Am I allowed to ask what happened back there?’
Tess looked up, grateful that the cool Pacific breeze was cooling her red cheeks.
‘I saw my mother’s husband,’ she said simply.
‘Which isn’t your father … ?’ he said, brows creasing.
‘My dad’s dead. My mother remarried this guy, Anthony, who was one of my dad’s friends. That’s who I saw in the lobby.’
‘So why did you want to avoid him?’
‘Because it probably means my mother is here.’
‘And you don’t want to see her?’ he said, looking increasingly baffled.
Tess shook her head, looking down at the pool. ‘I haven’t spoken to her in twelve years.’
She saw the confusion on his face. Total estrangement from a parent was an alien concept to most people, especially to someone like Sean, brought up in the tightly knit Asgill clan, where life and business overlapped and every part of your life was planned, watched, and discussed. Tess sighed.
‘My mum and dad were never a match made in heaven,’ she began. ‘I think she always felt that she hadn’t fulfilled her potential with him. My dad, on the other hand, was crazy about her. You know some women have that effect on men.’
Sean nodded.
‘So my dad bought a pub in Suffolk – Constable country, a gorgeous place. We moved up there from North London.’
She smiled to herself. She could appreciate the county’s beauty now, but back then as a teenager, she’d been as negative about it as her mother. Back in Edgware, Tess was cool and popular, going to gigs in London, getting served in the local pubs. At the Suffolk sixth–form college, suddenly she was no one, an outsider surrounded by people who had known each other since primary school. These people thought she was showing off when she mentioned that she’d been to the Astoria or Hammersmith Apollo. London to them was somehow corrupt and unsavoury, and Tess was tarred with the same brush. Still, she made every attempt she could to fit in because she knew her father had made the move to save their family, which was why she had taken refuge at the college newspaper, where her own back–story wasn’t important as long as she could deliver her copy on time.
The bell to the cottage rang and Sean got up and returned with two bottles of beer on a tray.
‘I didn’t think one was enough,’ he smiled.
Tess took a long, grateful swallow before continuing. ‘My mum hated Suffolk. Instead of saving the marriage, it drove them further apart. She would go and spend half the week in London visiting friends while dad would be putting in fifteen–hour days in the pub. He still stuck by her, though,’ said Tess, shaking her head in wonder. ‘But it wasn’t enough, and finally she walked out on us. Turns out
she’d been having an affair with Anthony, one of dad’s so–called friends, and she moved back to London to be with him. I stayed with Dad, of course. I’d just finished my A–levels and I had a place to do English at Bristol University, but I deferred it to help Dad in the pub. Dad had overstretched himself to buy it in the first place and he couldn’t cope alone. He tried, God knows he tried, but two weeks before Christmas, the pub got repossessed. My dad died of a heart attack a month later.’
It had been a long time since Tess had told that story, and all the years in between had not made it any easier. She could still remember vividly the day they moved from the pub into a rented flat in the village, and she could still hear the sympathetic whispers of the locals. But most of all, burned indelibly into her mind, was the memory of finding her father dead, slumped on the gaudy living–room carpet when she had returned from a supermarket run one evening. Twelve years hadn’t been able to wipe away that. At night she could sometimes hear the ambulance, the blue light flashing through the window and casting a ghoulish glow around the room. To this day she did not know what had caused his heart to give up. A genetic weakness, his expanding waistline – working in a pub serving ‘good solid English food’ certainly hadn’t helped – or perhaps it really was a broken heart, having lost his wife, his business, and his dream in the space of a few weeks.
‘I’m so sorry,’ said Sean, awkwardly putting a hand on her shoulder.
‘So I never got to uni,’ said Tess with a small smile. ‘You can probably tell.’ For a second she thought of Dom’s friends talking about their time at Oxford or Durham and looking down on Tess with her A–levels and on–the–job experience.
‘I got a very junior, very badly paid job on the local paper; the editor had been a regular at the pub and I think he took pity on me. That’s the path that led me here,’ she said, gesturing towards the sea. She brushed a hand against her cheek and it came away wet – she hadn’t even noticed the tears falling. At the funeral, her mother wept openly in the front pew of the church while Tess sat as far away from her as possible. She had not cried once that day, her grief crushed by a tight ball of anger deep inside of her. When she walked away from the grave, it was the last time she had seen or spoken to her mother.
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