To Be the Best. Barbara Taylor Bradford

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СКАЧАТЬ Rolls-Royce came to a sudden stop in Carlos Place.

      Sir Ronald shook off his thoughts, leaned forward, addressed his chauffeur: ‘Please pick me up around two-thirty, Pearson,’ he said as the uniformed doorman outside the Connaught Hotel stepped up to the car, opened the door for him, helped him alight.

      They ‘Sir Ronalded’ him to death as he went from the front steps to the dining room, and a faint smile touched his eyes as he was shown to the table his son had reserved. Five years ago he had wondered how he would ever get used to being addressed by his title. But he had – and in no time at all.

      After he had ordered a dry sherry, he took a sip of the iced water a waiter had placed before him, then sat back to wait for Paula and Michael.

      Sir Ronald did a double take.

      Paula and his son were heading across the restaurant in his direction, and she looked so much like Emma that it was quite amazing.

      He realized, as she drew closer, that she was sporting a new hairdo, and that it was this which underscored her already-pronounced similarity to her grandmother. Her dark glossy hair had been cut short in a sort of sleek bob. It was chic and obviously of the moment, and yet to him it had the look of the 1930s. It brought to mind the film stars of his youth … and the elegant Emma he had known and admired as a boy.

      He rose, took Paula’s outstretched hand in both of his, shared her broad and loving smile, kissed her cheek. They exchanged affectionate greetings, seated themselves next to each other, and at once started chatting animatedly.

      Michael went to the other side of the table, took a chair, motioned to the waiter. After Paula and he had ordered aperitifs, he asked for the menus.

      Turning to Paula, he said, ‘You’re always in such a hurry, so let’s order … then we can relax.’

      ‘Why not?’ she laughed and took the menu from the headwaiter.

      The latter hovered next to the table, explaining the specialities of the day, and making his own recommendations. After a cursory glance at their menus, Paula and the Kallinskis followed his advice. All three asked for the cold poached salmon and cucumber salad, and Michael ordered a bottle of Sancerre.

      The aperitifs had materialized in front of Paula and Michael whilst they had been ordering lunch, and once the waiters had disappeared, Sir Ronald raised his glass. He looked directly at Paula. ‘To the memory of your grandmother.’

      ‘To Emma,’ Michael toasted.

      Paula smiled at them both. ‘Yes, to Grandy.’

      They clinked glasses, sipped their drinks.

      After a moment, Paula said, ‘I thought you’d remember what day it is today, Uncle Ronnie.’

      ‘We both remembered!’ Michael exclaimed.

      Sir Ronald remarked, ‘How could anyone forget the passing of such a great woman. And she’d be so proud of you, my dear. You’ve never let her down, and you’ve held her dream wonderfully well.’

      ‘I hope so, Uncle Ronnie … I’ve certainly endeavoured to guard everything she built … and make it stronger.’

      ‘And you have,’ Sir Ronald said, regarding her warmly. ‘You’re as much of a genius at retailing as Emma ever was. You’ve displayed a great deal of vision over the years, and I can only commend you on everything you’ve done with the stores.’

      ‘Thanks, Uncle Ronnie,’ Paula said, smiling, enjoying his approval.

      ‘And I second everything Dad says,’ Michael declared emphatically. He took a sip of his Cinzano Bianco, then winked at her over the rim of his glass.

      Paula’s violet-blue eyes filled with laughter. ‘You’re prejudiced, Michael. Actually, you both are.’

      Sir Ronald settled back in his chair, said in a more confidential tone, ‘One of the reasons I invited myself to lunch is to seek your advice, my dear.’

      Paula’s curiosity was instantly piqued, and she quickly asked, ‘But how can I possibly advise you? Why, you’re the wisest person I know, Uncle Ronnie.’

      He made no response to this remark. It was almost as if he had not heard it. A preoccupied expression invaded his face; he took a sip of his sherry, then gave her a long and careful look. ‘Ah, but you can advise me, Paula. About Alexander. Or, to be more precise, you can give me an opinion.’ Sir Ronald briefly paused, before asking, ‘Do you think Sandy would sell Lady Hamilton Clothes to Kallinski Industries?’

      This was the last thing Paula had expected to hear, and she was taken aback. She stared at Sir Ronald without speaking for a moment. ‘I’m quite sure he wouldn’t,’ she said at last in a surprised voice. ‘That division is far too important to Harte Enterprises. And to Harte stores, for that matter.’

      ‘Yes, it has great value to Sandy, and to you too, of course, since the Lady Hamilton line is made exclusively for Harte’s,’ Sir Ronald said.

      Michael interjected, ‘He may want to unload it, Paula – for the right price, and to the right people. Let’s face it, Sandy has been terribly overburdened ever since that family débâcle, when he fired Jonathan and Sarah. He and Emily really have their hands full, and they have to work awfully hard running Harte Enterprises – ’

      ‘Oh, I don’t know,’ she cut in swiftly, ‘they seem to manage quite well, Michael.’

      ‘In any case, we’d be prepared to pay top money for that division,’ Michael added, determined to get his point across.

      ‘I’m sure you would,’ Paula replied evenly, ‘and I’m just as sure Sandy wouldn’t even consider it, no matter what you offered.’ She looked from the younger Kallinski to the older, rapidly and with quickening interest. ‘Why do you want to buy Lady Hamilton Clothes, Uncle Ronnie?’

      ‘We’d like to have our own women’s fashion division,’ Sir Ronald explained. ‘And to supply your stores with women’s ready to wear in much the same way we supply your men’s clothing, and to sell to your boutiques in the hotels. Just as importantly, we wish to start and to build up a strong export line.’

      Paula nodded slowly. ‘I see.’

      ‘Obviously, we wouldn’t sell the women’s fashions in countries where you own retail stores,’ Michael pointed out. ‘We’re thinking of trading only in common market countries – ’

      ‘Excluding France,’ Sir Ronald interrupted, ‘since you have a store in Paris.’

      ‘Oh I know you’d never do anything to damage my business, that goes without saying,’ Paula murmured. ‘And I can see why you’d like the acquisition, Uncle Ronnie, it makes a lot of sense.’

      She glanced at Michael. ‘But you know how conservative Sandy is, and bound by tradition. Those are just two of the reasons Grandy gave him control of Harte Enterprises. She knew it would be safe in his hands because he would never do anything to weaken its basic structure. Such as selling off a very, very profitable division,’ she finished dryly, but her mouth twitched with sudden amusement.

      Both men laughed.

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