Nigel looks really impressed in spite of himself. Im sorry, thats really good work, he says, the smirk disappearing from his face. What else do we know about Duncan Taylor?
I flick through the pages in front of me, but cant find his name anywhere. Frankly, one incredible insight is, I think, quite enough for one day.
Nigel, its been a long day. Maybe we should wait until tomorrow to find out about Duncan Taylor.
You can wait? says Nigel incredulously. You dont need to know now?
Um, well, of course Iwant to, but, you know, sometimes youve got to be patient, I say knowledgeably. If we rush it, we could screw up.
Nigel nods slowly. You could be right. But can I take these anyway? Maybe a fresh set of eyes will be able to find out something else. A fresh set of eyes. Yes, that would be good.
Why dont you brief me tomorrow morning? I say crisply. Im getting into this whole business lark. The good thing about going out with David is that you learn all sorts of phrases that make you sound incredibly businesslike. Hes always asking people to brief him or to debrief him. Im not entirely sure what the difference is, so I use them interchangeably. Actually I dont really use them at all, but Im going to from now on. I might even buy a proper suit and a briefcase and start striding around purposefully. Who knows, when Guy sees all the work Ive done, I may get promoted. I could be a high-flying business executive with loads of airmiles and a mobile phone that never stops ringing.
I look at my watch and to my amazement its nearly five-thirty. We finish at five, and Im never late going home unless Nigel forces me. Everyone else has left already. I realize Im going to be late for David if Im not careful. I quickly turn off my computer and put on my coat. Nigel has gone back to his hunched-over-computer position, so I dont bother to say good-bye to him; I just give him a quick wave and go.
I decide against taking the lift. (Its superstition. I never take the lift on my way out of work in case it breaks down and Im stuck in it overnight. Whereas I always take it in the morning; if it breaks down then, it means sitting in the lift instead of working and thats fine by me. So long as Ive got a magazine or something, obviously.)
The stairs at Leary are at the back of the building so I make my way across the office quickly. I open the door to the stairwell and Ive just started walking down when I hear two people having a fraught discussion. Any fraught discussions at Leary generally mean fantastic gossip; I once heard one of the directors telling a girl from communications that her backside was as whippable as a horses. Denise loved that; she told everyone and no one ever found out that it came from me. I didnt mean for it to end up in the company newsletter and for the director to leave, but that was hardly my fault.
What did he say exactly? I hear one man say.
He asked about HGs future plans. But in detail. He wanted to know the three-year plan and stuff. Wouldnt be a problem, but he said it in front of a couple of board members and got them all interested, too.
Okay. Well just have to fudge it. Why dont you send Guy to New York for a few weeks to do some reconnaissance work? If hes out of the picture, I can easily smooth things over with the board. Once they see the financial implications they wont give a fuck about three-year plans.
Even the Learys? They always get so emotionally involved, says the other man sarcastically.
The Learys? The guys are idiots. Come on, all three of them are about to pop their clogs anyway. Look, itll be fine, so long as we get round Guy.
If you say so. Are you still on for a spot of golf tomorrow?
Absolutely . . .
The voices are getting closer so I nip back to the door and quickly close it behind me. This is like being in a film. So Guy could be sent to New York because of the information Nigel sent him. And by the time he gets back itll be too late! Ive got to warn him somehow. I peek through the glass panel of the stairway door and see our chief exec, Robin Friend, and some other guy I dont know walk past.
Breathlessly I slip back to my department and find Nigel.
You wont believe what Ive just heard!
Nigel looks up with a start. I thought youd gone.
He isnt looking up at me, but staring at something on his computer screen.
Stop it! This is important! I tug his arm. Nigel, Ive just seen Robin and some other guy on the stairs. And they were talking about Guy and sending him to New York because hes asking questions about the merger, and then they were talking about the Learys and how they are so old that they dont know what theyre doing anyway, and . . . I tell him everything I can remember about the conversation.
So Nigel, who are the Learys? Are they the owners of the company?
The Learys? Theyre the founders, he says. At least their family founded it. Couple of generations ago. There are three Learys on the board nowthey own about forty percent of the company between them.
How come only forty percent? Dont they own it all if they founded it?
Nigel looks distracted. About twenty years ago the company needed more money so the family sold sixty percent of the shares to private investors. About ten percent is held by people owning just a few shares, and the rest is split between five people. Theyre all on the board, too.
But you must know all this, Nigel continues, because its all here. He looks pointedly at the pile of paper Id given him earlier.
Oh, yes, yes of course, I say dismissively, trying to ignore the hint of a smile on Nigels lips.
The Learys wouldnt be too happy if they knew that HG was going to shut down the company, Nigel continues. Weve got to warn them. Weve got to stop this!
Hes looking all excited. I look at my watch. Ive really got to go.
Why dont you send them a pink envelope, too? I venture. Then they can sort it all out. Im not too sure about all this we business. I mean, I dont mind printing out Web pages and stuff, but to be honest Ive got more important things on my mind than the possibility that Learys accounting products could be shut down. I mean, Id hate for us to lose our jobs and everything, but right now Ive got a Zip disk to get hold of.
We could do . . . says Nigel. But they arent majority shareholders anymore. If the rest of the board votes for the merger, theyll be outnumbered. And anyway, HG will no doubt be offering a superb deal to the board. Theyll be making some serious money out of this.
Maybe we should sleep on it, I suggest. Ive really got to go now.
Maybe we should.
Nigel is looking at his computer screen again. Im about to go, but something makes me look at Nigel more closely. He looks really down and stressed out. I realize that hes worked at Leary for, well, forever pretty much. And if he loses his job, I dont know what hell do. I certainly cant see anyone else employing him.
Squinting at some figures on the screen, Nigel takes his glasses off to clean them and for the first time ever I see his eyes properly. Actually, Nigel looks quite vulnerable without his glasses onkind of like a mole or something. If he went out like that, he might have more luck with women; some girls have a real mothering instinct, and he could definitely take advantage. I consider suggesting this to him but before I can he puts his glasses back on and says I believe you were on your way home?
Yes, yes I am. Look, Nigel, youll be okay, you know.
Course I will, says Nigel with absolutely no feeling. Look, its fine. Im just going to look into this Taylor guy before I go home. I want something good to show Guy, not just overheard conversations.
I look at my watch and its five to six. Im going to be seriously late for David. Promising myself that Im going to do everything I can to help Nigel keep his job, I grab my bag and turn to go.
But for a second time that evening I dont make it past the door to the stairwell. I knew the
name Taylor was familiar to me, and I think Ive just remembered why.
Nigel, I breathe as I race back to his desk, do a search under the AMG Group. Im sure Duncan Taylor is involved in a scandal in the U.S. It was on the news before Top Gear when I was in Italy. Im sure its the same name.
Nigel quickly brings up pages and pages on the story. Sure enough, the picture of Duncan Taylor on the AMG site is the same as the one on the Tryton site.
Georgie, I think you might have just done it, Nigel grins as he begins to type a memo to Guy. I think this might just get Guys attention.
I try to feel as excited as Nigel, but I cant help thinking that sorting things out with David is going to be a lot more difficult.
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Davids wearing jeans. I only mention this because its very rare for David to wear jeans at the weekend, let alone on a Tuesday evening.
He sees me staring and grins sheepishly. Just something Im trying, he says by way of explanation.
There are delicious smells emanating from the kitchen. When he leans down to kiss me I put my arms around him and give him a bear hug. I want to feel all wrapped up and safe, instead of wondering where the disk is.
Sorry Im late. I look at Davids face. He has such a strong, open, honest face. I wonder if hes been working on Mikes case today.
No problem. The foods going to take a while anywayI wanted to cook something nice. I thought trout might be just the ticket?
Sounds lovely. I feel nervous. My eyes are flicking around the hallway as if looking for clues. Usually I just walk straight into the sitting room and watch TV while David cooks, and he brings me wine and olives. Now Im standing here awkwardly and havent even taken off my coat.
Actually, now that youre here, would you mind keeping an eye on the fish while I nip out quickly? I forgot to buy some wine on my way home.
Of course not. Grateful for something to do, I take off my coat and go through to the kitchen. A sauce is bubbling on the stove. I cant exactly do much with the fish because theyre in the oven. The front door bangs as David leaves.
This is my chance. If I can find the disk now, I can forget about it for the rest of the evening, otherwise Im not going to be able to enjoy a minute. Estimating that Ive got around five minutes, possibly ten, I run round the flat looking everywhere for the diskI check his bedroom, the spare bedroom, the study, and the sitting room. Nothing. I open his briefcase and go through every pocket, but its nowhere to be found. I cant believe it. Its got to be somewhere. I rummage through his desk again, opening up all the drawers, but they just have boring stuff on tax returns and contracts from builders and stuff. I notice an invoice and stare at it. Oh my God, did David really spend ?40K on his kitchen?
Suddenly I remember his laptop. Of course! The disk is probably inside it! I remember seeing it on his bed, so I run to Davids bedroom. I look to see if theres a disk inside it but its one of those computers that wont do anything, even allow you to open the disk drive, until its on. I boot it up and sit swearing at it to hurry up as icon after icon appears on the screen. Theres no way Im going to have time to get the disk. I hear the door bang downstairs and I jump. If its David Ive got next to no time. Finally it springs into action. With a huge sigh of relief I press the button to the disk drive just as I hear Davids key in the door. The drive opens and . . . nothing. Nothing! I havent got time to shut the laptop down properly so I just slam it shut and run to the kitchen to find the sauce boiling over. David comes in and kisses me on the neck.
Smells lovely, he says, giving me a hug. I manage a smile. Two things keep going through my mind: where is the disk, and does David know about me and Mike? Hes acting so relaxed that I start to believe Mike was wrong, that David did think it was coincidence that I was in Rome. Or is he just putting on a brave face?
All I want to do is stir the food, but David puts his hands around my face and lifts it up so Im looking right into his eyes. Georgie, thank you for coming tonight. Look, Im sorry about Rome, I really am. But we had a fantastic time, didnt we? Id have loved to have spent Sunday with you as well, but maybe another time.
Of course, I smile, turning back to the sauce.
So what did you get up to when I was working? David puts his arms around me and starts kissing the back of my neck. His words make me freeze, but I force myself to carry on talking as if everything is fine.
Oh, just a bit of shopping. Actually, I went to Gucci.
Gucci! Blimey. Sounds like youre turning into an expensive woman!
What do you mean turning into? Ive always been expensive, I say as David goes off to open the wine. Actually thats a lie, but dammit, if David can spend ?40K on a kitchen, hes going to start spending more on me.
The food is really good. And the wine is lovely, too. I gradually find myself feeling less and less awkward and relax into the evening. It Had to Be You is playing on the stereo and David is singing along, particularly when it gets to the bit with all your faults, I love you still. He keeps adding the wordmany before the wordfaults and then laughs to himself and winks at me.
I look at him closely. Could this lovely, open man really be doing everything he can to ensure that Mikes company doesnt succeed? I cant quite believe it, but then I remember the letter I found at Mikes.
Were eating at the table in the kitchen and David is fussing round me, giving me more salad and more wine. Its all warm and cozy and David has taken off his tie and unbuttoned his shirt a bit. Its a shirt I bought him, I notice.
So the glamour puss is just a work colleague, is she?
I promised myself that I wasnt going to mention the bitch from Rome. That I was going to rise above it and just worry about the disk. But the more I look at David, the more I need him to reassure me one more time.
Georgie, shes my partner, David says with a sigh. On a case. Honestly, I never thought youd be the jealous type. Im rather flattered actually. He grins, obviously in an attempt to diffuse the situation, but Im not ready to stopnot yet.
What case? Im playing with fire here, but I cant help myself.
Darling, its workjust a boring fraud case, he says dismissively, as if he wants to move the conversation on.
I blink. For some strange reason I am close to tears. Why wont David tell me the truth? Doesnt he trust me? If only he would tell me everything, then we could straighten everything out without all the secrecy.
Georgie, I love you, David says seriously, taking my hand. I know Ive been working too hard and I know I havent been giving you enough attention. But in a couple of weeks Im going to have a lot more time on my hands. I thought maybe we could go away somewhere properly. What do you say?
Id love to, I smile. Maybe its too much to expect David to confide in me. Maybe Ive got to earn his trust and convince him that Mike and me are really history. The important thing is that David loves me. And when this is all over we can go away somewhere and everything will be okay.
David leans over and kisses me. I love the smell of him. I put my arms around his neck and he kisses me again. Tender, sweet kisses turn into urgent, passionate kisses.
Now, get your kit off, he murmurs as he takes off my top. I lean my head against his broad shoulders as he kisses my neck, kisses my breasts. I wrap myself around him and he lays me down on the kitchen floor. And then, in a seamless movement he takes his coat off the back of the chair and puts it under me. Thats so like Davideven in the heat of passion, he thinks about the cold limestone on my bare bottom. We make love for a long time. Urgent one minute, gentle the next. All I want to do is to hold on to David, hold him so tight hell never get away. I know absolutely that I belong in these arms. And I totally understan
d why David hates Mike so much. If I thought the bitch from Rome was making a play for David, Id happily try to get her fired.
When its all over we lie in silence for a few minutes. I stretch contentedly and try to shift myself a bit to the left because something is digging into my back, but Davids weight is preventing me from moving. I reach down to move the coat a bit, and find my hand inside Davids pocket.
Absentmindedly, my hand closes around something that I assume is his wallet. And then I take a sharp intake of breath. It isnt a wallet at all. In fact, it feels exactly like a Zip disk.
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David drives me to work. It isnt really on his way, but he drives me anyway. He plays an Oasis album on the way, and we sing along loudly. David used to always listen to the Today Programme on Radio 4, but I once told him he was old before his time and since then hes been buying albums at random so he can show off to me that he knows all about pop music. He actually introduced me to the White Stripes, which I find really impressive, even if he still calls them the White Strips.
Usually I would love David driving me to work. I love his fantastic big car that purrs along, and the heated leather seats that you can adjust to perfectly suit you. I love the fact that hes bought me coffee and a croissant and doesnt seem to mind that crumbs are going everywhere. Its just that I have a disk in my bag that doesnt belong to me. Not that it belongs to David either, but I dont feel good about going into his pockets and stealing something, even if my intentions are honorable. And they are honorable. Im going to give the disk to Mike but only so that this whole sorry tale can come to an end. David will just have to drop the whole thing, and everything will be okay. But I still feel very uneasy. Would David ever forgive me if he found out? The very thought makes me sick to my stomach. Not so sick that I cant finish my croissant, but still pretty bad.
David pulls up outside Leary and I kiss him good-bye. He gives me a big hug. You have a great day. Ill give you a call later.
When in Rome Page 18