“Yes, sir.”
“Okay, then, let’s make a move.”
He turned to Sophie, Charlie and Harriet, who had been standing silently beside him, and bent down and gave each a kiss.
“Now, you lot, go with Archie, and I’ll see you this evening at Inchelvie.”
“Will you tell Grandpa to get better soon, Dad?” Charlie said in a solemn voice. “Because he did say that he would teach me how to cast a salmon rod these holidays.”
“Yeah, I will,” David replied as lightly as he could.
Archie opened the back door of the car and Charlie and Harriet clambered in. Sophie held back for a moment, then took hold of her father’s arm and led him away to a safe distance from the car.
“Dad, do you think we could go back to The Beeches tomorrow? I think we all need to go home.”
David smiled at her, and putting his arms around her, he gave her a long hug.
“You’re absolutely right, darling. We all do need to go home—back to where Mummy is.”
He gave her a kiss on the forehead, then walked back to the car and opened the front passenger door for her. “Drive carefully, Archie,” he said, looking into the car. “You’ve got a particularly valuable cargo on board.”
The journey to Inverness took a little longer than anticipated, even though the weather, as he had predicted, improved as they headed north. The single-carriageway sections of the road were heavy with lorries, each having accumulated a tailback of cars that were boxed so tightly together that it made overtaking almost impossible. Although Dougie was quite adept at driving a half-mile stretch on the wrong side of the road to get clear of the hold-ups, Archie seemed to have taken David’s last remark to heart, driving with such care and attention that Dougie had to pull over into a lay-by on two separate occasions to allow his car to catch up, then watch in seething frustration as a recently overtaken lorry and its parasitical line of cars trundled slowly past.
However, once they passed Aviemore, the traffic thinned out, and having seen Archie and the children safely on their way to Inchelvie, Dougie put his foot down, eventually pulling the car to a squealing halt at the main doors of Raigmore Hospital just before midday.
David asked Dougie to wait in the car-park, then walked in through the main doors of the hospital and approached the main desk. An elderly lady, whose gentle smile made it look as if she’d been specifically bred for voluntary services, looked up from where she had been writing on a shorthand pad.
“Good morning, can I help you?”
“Yes. I wonder if you could guide me in the right direction. I want to find Lord Inchelvie’s room.”
David watched as she wrote down his father’s name on her pad. “And may I ask who you might be, sir?”
“Yeah, I’m Mr. Corstorphine, his son.”
“Oh, I see. Right,” she said, getting up immediately from her chair. “If you could just give me a moment while I get someone else to look after the desk, and then I’ll take you to his room myself.”
She turned and went into the office behind her. David watched through the window as she spoke to a colleague who was sitting having a cup of tea. The woman cast a glance at him through the window, then got up from her chair.
“Mr. Corstorphine,” the lady said, as they both came out of the office. “If you would like to follow me, I’ll take you up there now.”
They walked over to the lift and took it to the sixth floor. David followed her along the spotless corridor, both standing aside to allow an old lady in a pink winceyette nightie to push her drip-stand slowly past them, muttering incoherently to herself as she went. At the end of the corridor, they entered a long ward, and David’s guide stopped outside a door next to the nurses’ desk.
“You’ll find Lord Inchelvie in here, sir. I think Lady Inchelvie should be there as well.”
David thanked her and turned to watch her leave the ward. As he put his hand out to push down the handle of the door, it opened and Roger Spiers appeared. On seeing David, he held his finger to his mouth and closed the door quietly behind him.
“David!” the old doctor said, holding out his hand. “How nice to see you! Well done, you getting back so quickly.”
David shook his hand. “How is he, Roger?”
Dr. Spiers flicked his head to the side. “Not that good, I’m afraid. Nevertheless, he’s pretty comfortable and I know for a fact that he’s not in any pain, but, well…” He smiled warmly at him. “… like all of us of that generation, the old engine begins to get a little weary, and it becomes increasingly difficult to keep it from stalling.” He looked round at the door. “Your mother’s in there. She’s been absolutely marvellous. Hasn’t left his bedside since she got here”—he turned back to David—“so I know she’ll be delighted to see you home, my boy.” He gave his arm a reassuring squeeze, then shambled his way off down the ward. Taking a deep breath, David gently pushed down the handle and put his head round the door.
The small room was mottled with light that bled its way through the gaps in the closed blinds and a thin ray caught the side of his father’s cheek as he lay motionless on the bed, accentuating the pallor of his once ruddy complexion. A network of tubes ran upwards from his body to the plastic drip-bottles that hung above the bed. His eyes were closed and his mouth open, but what little sound he was emitting was drowned out by the constant bleeping of the heart-monitoring equipment which flickered out its glowing light into the semi-darkness of the room.
As David watched, his mother stood up from where she sat knitting beside his father, and gently pressed his chin upwards, closing his mouth. Then, stroking her hand over his forehead, she pushed away a strand of hair that had by some miracle displaced itself, and giving her husband a smile that would never be acknowledged, she turned to sit down again, executing a double take when she saw David at the door.
“Oh, my darling, well done!” she said in a whisper, dropping her knitting onto the chair and coming over towards him. As David walked into the room, he noticed immediately the look of sheer fatigue and sorrow in his mother’s eyes as she approached. He took her in his arms and held her tight.
“Let me have a look at you!” she continued to whisper, pushing herself away from him, yet holding firmly on to his arms. “You look so well! You’re brown!”
David smiled at her and looked over to his father. “I’m so very sorry that I wasn’t here, Ma. I really am so sorry.”
His mother turned to follow his gaze. “My darling, it is not your fault that this has happened, and you must not even begin to think of reproaching yourself for it. I mean it. That was exactly why I made a point of explaining that in my fax. The doctor did say that it could have happened at any time.” She turned back to him and reached up and kissed him on the cheek. “The main thing is that you’re here.”
David made no comment, thinking it neither the time nor the place to tell her that he had worked out what had been going on at the distillery. Instead, he walked past her and went over to stand by his father, reaching down and gently taking hold of his hand, taking care not to knock out the tubes that were protruding from his wrist.
“I’ve just had a word with Roger Spiers outside in the corridor. He says things aren’t looking too good.”
His mother walked around to the other side of the bed and stood looking down at her husband. “No, I’m afraid not. There was a marked deterioration overnight. They very kindly allowed me to stay in the next-door room, and they called me at about two o’clock this morning, because they were so worried about him.” She let out a long sigh. “But he seemed to rally again.”
David glanced over at his mother, and caught on her face an expression of unequivocal love as she looked down at her husband. “He’s always been a fighter, David. He’s very weak, but I have a suspicion that he’s been holding out until … you got home.”
David nodded and leaned over and stroked his father’s face, feeling a lump tighten in his throat and his eyes begin to smart with tears. “Well
, I’m back now. I hope you can hear, Pa, because I’m back now, and everything, I promise you, is going to be just fine.”
He bent forward and gave the wrinkled forehead a kiss, wincing at the coldness of his father’s skin against his lips. He stood up and looked over to his mother. “Listen, I’m going to go to the distillery right now. I want to get this whole thing cleared up and finished with today. But I’ll be back later, once I’ve been to Inchelvie to see the children. Do you want anything from the house?”
His mother smiled at him. “No, I’ve got everything I need here.”
They both moved to the bottom of the bed, and David gave his mother a hug and a kiss before walking over to the door. He turned to give his father a last look, then, on impulse, returned to the bed and gave the dear, brave old man another kiss.
“We’ll get this sorted out. We really will,” he said, addressing no one in particular, but hoping that both occupants of the room could take comfort from his words. He opened the door and walked out, closing it gently behind him.
They drove in silence back down the A9, Dougie intent on getting back to the distillery as fast as possible, while David was quite happy to use the time to look through his notes, trying to get all his facts as clear as possible in his mind. As Dougie drove across the bridge over the Spey and turned hard left down the Glendurnich Distillery road, David glanced at his watch. It was half past one. He took in a deep breath. This was it. The show-down.
They descended the hill and turned the corner above the maturation warehouses. Archie was there, his car tucked away between two rows of barrels at the most northerly point of the concrete apron. Dougie flashed his lights, Archie responded, and his car immediately shot out and came round the side of the sheds, pulling in behind their car as they levelled out at the bottom of the hill and following them onto the car-park.
As soon as Dougie had stopped, David jumped out and looked around to make sure that Duncan’s BMW was there. It was. He turned round to Dougie and Archie, who had come to stand behind him.
“Right. Archie, has Dougie explained what’s been happening here?”
“Yes, he has, sir,” Archie replied seriously.
“Good. Well, as soon as things are back to normal here, I just want you to know that you are to be reinstated at Glendurnich. I take it that you don’t have another job yet?”
“No, I don’t!” Archie exclaimed, his eyes wide with delight.
“Right. That’s settled then. Now, I want you two to be present in the boardroom, just in case things get a little out of hand, okay?”
They nodded briefly, and David suddenly realized that both were dressed very much smarter than he was, he still being in the clothes that he had worn when he left Leesport. He felt a wry smile come over his face. What the hell! Better wearing old clothes for this kind of job. Blood would no doubt wash out much better from denim.
“Right. Let’s go.”
As they walked across the car-park, David turned to see that Dougie and Archie were making up a V-formation behind him. He smiled to himself. Perfect. Just like the Westerns. Everyone had his gun hand clear for the show-down.
They each took a separate door, bursting into the reception area at the same time, making the woman at the desk start back in surprise. David walked over and leaned both hands on the desk, and the woman, her mouth pursed in displeasure at their unmannerly entrance, pushed back her chair to distance herself from the menacing figure that stood in front of her.
“Excuse me, but who on earth do you think—?”
“Just be quiet and listen,” David said, holding up his hand. “I want you to get hold of Duncan Caple and both the marketing and financial directors, and tell them to meet me in the boardroom right now.”
The woman looked at him, her right eye twitching with both fear and indignation.
“Don’t be absurd! I—”
“I also want you to get in contact with Margaret, and tell her to get herself back here right now. Then, as soon as you have done that, I want you to vacate this desk. Is that understood?” He flashed her a brittle smile and turned and walked towards the boardroom, followed by Dougie and Archie.
“Excuse me!” Doreen called out after David, her voice shaking with anger. “But I have no idea who you are!”
David turned and gave Archie a wink, and as he and Dougie continued on to the boardroom, Archie broke formation and walked back to the desk. He leaned across, his face two feet away from the receptionist, relishing this moment of glory in his young life as he emulated every movement of his boss.
“You have just addressed Mr. David Corstorphine, son of Lord Inchelvie and the principal shareholder of Glendurnich Distilleries Limited. Now, if I were you, I’d get hold of Mr. Caple, Mr. Barker and Mr. Archibald right now, and tell them that they’re wanted in the boardroom immediately. And then call Margaret. You’ll find her number in the Glendurnich telephone book—probably at the top of the list.”
Doreen looked at Archie, her former expression of self-importance now replaced with one of utter fear.
“What shall I say to her?” she asked in a thin, trembling voice.
Archie pushed himself away from the desk and turned to walk over to the boardroom. “Just tell her that Mr. David’s back—for good!”
The young man took his time getting to the boardroom door, eager to hear Doreen talk with Mr. Caple on the telephone. In a faltering voice, she made her announcement, then, almost immediately, repeated it, and Archie imagined with almost sadistic glee the horror on Duncan Caple’s face as he learned of David’s presence in the building. Then, clenching his fist, he punched at the air, expelling through gritted teeth a silent Yesss before opening the door and walking into the boardroom.
When Duncan Caple entered two minutes later, accompanied by Giles Barker and Keith Archibald, David was standing looking out the window, his hands clasped behind him.
“David!” Duncan exclaimed, as he walked across the room towards David. “How nice to see you back. I was so sorry to hear about your fath——”
David turned and pointed to the table. “Sit down, all of you.”
Duncan stopped in his tracks and held up his hands, a sardonic smile on his face. “Of course. So how did things go in Ameri——?”
“Just sit down, Duncan!” David hissed through gritted teeth, as he turned to face the window once more.
The managing director shrugged, then pulled out a chair and sat, the other two directors having already taken heed of David’s request the first time round. Duncan crossed his arms nonchalantly, then suddenly became aware of both Dougie and Archie, who were leaning against the back wall of the boardroom.
“So what have we got here?” Duncan asked, casting a glance at them over his shoulder. “The heavy brigade? Are you going to get them to beat me up, David?”
David turned. “No, Duncan. They’re actually here to stop me from beating you up.”
Duncan reached forward and brought his hands hard down on the table. “Oh, come on! We can be a bit more mature about this, can’t we? You know, it’s quite easily explained—”
David held up his hand to stop him. “No … no, let me see if I can explain what’s happened. You just sit there and listen for a change, and if I do happen to go wrong at all, then you can put me right.”
He walked slowly around the table, glaring at the three as he went. They followed him with their eyes, the two directors visibly blanching as they waited for him to begin. David breathed deeply, trying to steady his emotions, and looking at Duncan’s thin aquiline nose, he found himself wondering what it would look like pushed flat against his face. He stopped and leaned forward on the table.
“So how much were you going to get paid, Duncan?”
For the first time, Duncan’s smile slid from his face. “I don’t think that really—”
“Because it must have been a hell of a lot to make it worthwhile for you to do what you’ve just done.”
He stared with such hatred at Duncan t
hat the man began to rub his hands nervously together between his knees. David pushed himself off the table and walked over to the window.
“I don’t know the time-scale on this, but I’m not really bothered. What I do know is that you have … used my father and myself to your own advantage, with the result that he is now lying near death in hospital.” He turned and looked at Duncan. “And I want you to get something clear from the outset—and I’m really addressing all of you now—and that is whatever has happened or will happen to my father will be on your consciences for the rest of your lives. Maybe, at this very minute, it will mean very little to you, because I think that you’re too pig-ignorant to understand that … but Christ, I tell you, it’ll eventually catch up with you!”
David surveyed them all in silence. They sat in a row, Keith Archibald now biting at a finger-nail, as they waited for him to continue. David caught Dougie’s eye, and his ex-sergeant gave him a wink and a nod of his head in encouragement.
“Right!” David said, turning back to the window. “So let’s see how close I can get to your little plan.” He paused. “In May, against both my will and my father’s, you pulled me back to work, under the pretext that sales figures had slumped in the States. Number-one point. They had not, but you knew pretty well that the only person who might check up would be Robert McLeod, and you managed to slide him away from the company and replace him by—?”
He looked at the two directors, pointing his finger at each one. Keith Archibald slowly raised his hand.
“Right … you. Good. So Duncan, you decide to appoint a new distributor in the States. Deakin Distribution, a company run by a Mr. Charles Deakin, who just happens to have recently sold his company to a UK corporation called Kirkpatrick Holdings Public Limited Company.” For effect, he spelled out the full name in short, pronounced bursts. “So … I am sent over there, and because you have already given Deakin a full briefing on my own … personal loss and state of mind, he is able to play heavily on that, to such an extent that he suddenly, quite out of the blue, is able to stress the importance of my having a wife.”
An Ocean Apart Page 44