Dangerous to Know (25 page)

I was particularly thrilled about this, as joyful as Jack had been when he got the chAteau.

I loved Gerald for a number of reasons, not the least of which was

his attitude about women. He did not have much time for the idle and the indolent who had nothing to occupy their days, much preferred women like me who were strong, independent, and had flourishing careers. He, like my brother Jack, was attracted to brainy women who had something to say for themselves.

Deep down I know that, despite my love for Gerald, I would have hesitated about marrying him if he had objected to my job. In fact, I would have probably had only a few dates with him and let it go at that.

It was necessary for me to go to work every day, necessary to my well-being and my sense of self. I needed to be busy, to accomplish something, to make a contribution in my own small way. And, after all, Locke Industries was in my blood, a huge part of my life. It always had been, and I wanted it for myself. I hoped one day to get it.

Suddenly I realized I was almost home. I had been walking so quickly I had reached Eaton Square in record time. As I put my latchkey in the door and turned it, the grandfather clock in the hall struck six-thirty.

“When Vivienne said your father was planning to get married this year, I was completely taken aback,” Madge Hitchens said, looking at me intently across the lunch table. “I didn’t know anything about it, Luciana, did you?”

I stared at her without answering. I was stupefied to hear this.

Madge said, “I can tell by the expression on your face, and your silence, that you didn’t. You look as surprised as I was when she told me.”

Recovering my voice, I asked, “Who on earth was he going to marry?”

“Vivienne didn’t know her name. That’s why she was asking me.”

I frowned and said quickly, “Vivienne thought you would know be cause you traveled with Sebastian constantly, spent so much time with him.”

“Yes. But I wasn’t aware of a fiancee. In fact, no one at the foundation was.”

“How come Vivienne knew?” As I asked this question I realized it was stupid of me to even pose it. Vivienne had always been a kind of confidante to him.

“Sebastian told her,” Madge replied, confirming my thought.

“But he didn’t tell her the woman’s name, Madge.” I shook my -head.

“How like Sebastian that was. However, he must have told her something else, surely?”

“He did. He told Vivienne she was a doctor. A scientist. At least, so I gathered. He also said she lived and worked in Africa.”

“What’s Vivienne’s interest in her now that my father’s dead?”

“She’s writing a profile about Sebastian and she wants to interview her.”

“I see.” I smiled faintly at Madge “Well, at least we don’t have to worry about the tone and content of the story, Madge dear. It’s bound to be flattering, since Vivienne’s writing it.”

“Oh I’m sure it will be.”

“Who’s Vivienne writing it for? Did she tell you?”

“Yes,” Madge said, nodding. “The magazine section of the London Sunday Times. As I told you earlier, she was in New York for several weeks, interviewing people at Locke Industries and the foundation.

From what I gather, everyone spoke beautifully about Sebastian.

But then why wouldn’t they? He was a very unique man, and those who worked for him and with him revered him. They still do. I think Vivienne’s premise for the profile is very accurate.”

“And what is it?” I asked curiously.

“She’s focusing on the idea that he was the world’s last great philanthropist .”

“The Last Great Philanthropist,” I repeated. “Not a bad title, not bad at all, and you’re correct it is right on target.”

“Your father was a great man, Luciana. In the eighteen years I knew him, a day didn’t go by that I didn’t marvel at him. He could win men s hearts by the sheer force of his personality, and he commanded energies beyond the average. And I’ve never known anyone with his strength of will. He was formidable in so many ways, and such a corn passionate man as well.”

“Yes, he was everything you say,” I agreed. “And I’ve always believed that he could have been anything he wanted, even if he hadn t been born who he was. He was so brilliant, he would have succeeded at anything he did.”

“He certainly had an extraordinary aura,” Madge remarked. “It fared him well when he was dealing with some governments in Third World countries.

They were awed, bowled over by him, and ultimately he brought them around to his way of thinking. Which brings me to another point, Luciana.”

“Tell me, Madge.”

“Even though Jack is now running the foundation and administering the money as your father did, he won’t go on any field trips. I wonder if you could influence him to come to Mrica with me later this year9” “You must be joking! He won’t listen to me, Madge! Or anyone else, for that matter. Jack’s very stubborn, surely you know that after all these years. Why he grew up at your knee, as I did.” I shook my head and finished, “He won’t go to Africa. Or anywhere else, I’m afraid

“Don’t you think we could work on him, Luciana?”

I laughed hollowly. “We could try, but I’m not sure it would do any good. He never wants to leave that vineyard of his.” I took a sip of -water, and continued, “Madge, I think we ought to look at the menu and order lunch, don’t you?”

Of course.” She eyed me for a long moment and then said, “I’m glad to see you’ve put on a bit of weight. You’ve been far too thin for long.”

failtoo smiled at her. “I know. I suddenly got my appetite back.”

nce we had ordered, I took up the subject of Jack again, and his involvement with the foundation. “Jack doesn’t mind giving away the money, Madge,” I explained. “He’s not a bit tight-fisted, and he knows it goes to help people in need. However, he doesn’t want to be personally involved with the charities. He doesn’t know how to deal with -people the way Sebastian did. Don’t ask me why, he just doesn’t.”

“Perhaps I could edge him into it,” Madge began and stopped short, -, pursing her lips. “You know, I always felt that Jack hated living in your er’s shadow. Maybe that’s the problem.”

:1fathI could be,” I agreed. “He’s so much like Sebastian and in so many ways, but he does his damndest to be completely different.

It’s as if he doesn’t want to be my father’s clone.”

“I’m sure he doesn’t.” Madge gave me a hard stare, and asked, “Do you think Sebastian was really engaged to someone?”

“It’s possible.” I shrugged. “But he never told me.”

“Or anyone else, except Vivienne. So if it was true, why did he keep it a secret?”

“Perhaps he didn’t,” I said thoughtfully. “Maybe she worked in a -remote area. You know what he was like, jumping around all over the map. I could never keep track of him, could you?”

“Not all the time, no, and certainly he and I were often in different parts of Africa. Indeed in different parts of the world.

But it is a mystery, isn’t it? By the way, I think I ought to alert you

…

Vivienne plans to come to London to see you, Luciana, to interview you for the piece.”

I merely nodded and stored this bit of information away.

At this moment the waiter arrived with our first course and I let the subject of Vivienne sink. To my astonishment I was hungry, and I even found my mouth watering as the waiter served me. I was about to eat Morecombe Bay potted shrimps for the first time in years, and I was actually salivating.

“Bon appetit,” I said to Madge, picked up a thin slice of buttered brown bread and took a bite, then I dipped into the potted shrimps -with relish. I’d first eaten them in 1979, here at Claridge’s, where Sebastian had often brought us for lunch and occasionally for dinner.

I had sworn off them years ago, because the shrimps were potted in pure butter, but I could enjoy them with impunity today since my aim was to actually put on weight.

“I hope I get a chance to see Gerald,” Madge murmured, as she dug a fork underneath a Colchester oyster.

“He’ll be back from Hong Kong tonight. Perhaps you’d like to have -lunch with us in the country on Sunday.”

“That would be great, Luciana, thank you. He’s such a nice man, and he was very kind to me at the memorial service in New York, very comforting.”

“That’s Gerald, and I’m afraid he still feels badly that he wasn’t able to come to Sebastian’s funeral in Connecticut, but his father had just undergone surgery and he didn’t want to leave him,” I said.

“Or would it be too dull for her?”

“He told me all about it, and I could well understand his feelings.”

“Would you like to bring Melanie with you?” I asked, smiling at her.

“Of course it wouldn’t. I’m sure she’d love it. Thank you.”

“She’s doing well at the Royal College of Art?”

“Spectacular. And at Claridge’s, where Sebastian had often brought us for lunch and occasionally for dinner. I had sworn off them years ago, because the shrimps were potted in pure butter, but I could enjoy them with impunity today since my aim was to actually put on weight.

“I hope I get a chance to see Gerald,” Madge murmured, as she dug a fork underneath a Colchester oyster.

“He’ll be back from Hong Kong tonight. Perhaps you’d like to have -lunch with us in the country on Sunday.”

“That would be great, Luciana, thank you. He’s such a nice man, and he was very kind to me at the memorial service in New York, very comforting.”

“That’s Gerald, and I’m afraid he still feels badly that he wasn’t able to come to Sebastian’s funeral in Connecticut, but his father had just undergone surgery and he didn’t want to leave him,” I said.

“Or would it be too dull for her?”

“He told me all about it, and I could well understand his feelings.”

“Would you like to bring Melanie with you?” I asked, smiling at her.

“Of course it wouldn’t. I’m sure she’d love it. Thank you.”

“She’s doing well at the Royal College of Art?”

“Spectacular. And loving every minute of it,” Madge replied, and went on talking about her twenty-two-year-old daughter for the next few minutes.

As I listened to my father’s former colleague and dear old friend of the family talking, I couldn’t help thinking how well she looked.

Madge had gone to work as Sebastian’s administrative assistant when she was forty-two, when Melanie was just two-years old. Eighteen years later she didn’t look much different than she had then. Her hair, which came to a widow’s peak on her forehead, was still as black as coal, her heart-shaped face smooth and unwrinkled. At sixty she looked much younger.

“You’re staring at me, Luce,” she said, regarding me with her head on one side. “Is something wrong?”

“How rude. I’m sorry. But I was actually admiring you, Madge, thinking how wonderful you look … the same as you did the first day I met you, when I was all of ten.”

“Kind words will get you everywhere,” she answered with a laugh.

“And I feel wonderful.”

“Sebastian always said you were very fit, the fittest person he knew.

He even mentioned it the last time I was with him in New York . .

just before he died.”

Madge stared at me, and then unexpectedly blurted out, “I miss him so much, Luce.” Her fine gray eyes filled with tears, and she cleared her throat several times.

I reached out and took hold of her hand resting on the table. “I know you do. So do I.”

There was a silence, and then finally recovering herself, she gave me one of her penetrating stares and said quietly, “I dwell on his suicide a lot. I can’t imagine why he did it. I’ve racked my brains for a reason.”

“Perhaps there isn’t one, Madge,” I said, squeezing her hand. “At least not one that we could understand.”

:24

“Gerald, listen to me. Please don’t go to sleep. Please,” I said. “I want to talk to you about something and it’s very important.”

Stifling a yawn and rousing himself, my husband responded in an apologetic voice, “Sorry to be so sleepy, darling, I’m afraid I’m still suffering from the time change. But talk to me, please do, I’m all ears, I promise.”

Pushing myself up on one elbow, I looked down at him and said, “I’ve stopped using birth control pills, so you may well have made me pregnant tonight. Isn’t that an exciting thought?”

Gerald sat upright in bed and gaped at me. “Good Lord, darling, when on earth did this extraordinary change of heart occur?”

“I’ve been thinking about having a baby since December, Gerald.

The time is right, don’t you think?”

“I certainly do! I’m all for it, you know that. Good Lord!” he ex claimed. ‘A baby. What a wonderful idea.” He gave me a boyish grin.

“Perhaps we did make one, we were certainly passionate enough, if that counts for ought.”

He leaned back on the pillows, gave me a long penetrating look and added, “Well, well, well, so you want to be a mother, Luciana. What was it that actually wrought this unexpected change in you?”

“The fact that the Locke dynasty is on the wane has been bothering me for a long time,” I said. “And the only way to rectify that is for us to have children. Heirs, Gerald. Heirs to follow in our footsteps.

Mine and yours. I know you want children, and that your father wants grand children to go into Kamper Brothers. Mter all, your family business is one of the oldest merchant banks in England, just as the Locke family is one of the oldest dynasties in America. We can’t let the Lockes and the Kampers become extinct, now can we?”

“Perish the thought,” he said with a dry laugh.

174Barbara Taylor Bradford “And how many children are you planning for us to have, my sweet?”

“At least four,” I answered. “‘Iwo for me, I mean two to go into Locke Industries, when they’re old enough, and two for you for the bank.”

“Sounds a bit cold-blooded when you put it that way, don’t you think?”

he murmured, giving me an odd look.

“It may sound it,” I said. “But it isn’t, not really, Gerald.

I’m just being practical, that’s all, and maybe we’ll only have two or three.

Perhaps we might have six, though. Who knows. There’s some luck attached to it, I’m sure, but as far as I’m concerned, the more the merrier.