Winner Takes It All (44 page)

‘They’ll be here,’ Tom
laughed.

‘But the scan’s at one thirty,
what if they’re late? We’ll miss it.’

Tom chuckled, laying his hands
upon his wife’s shoulders.

‘Just calm down. Everything is
going to be okay.’

They were waiting outside a
rather run down building in a tiny street off Edgware Road. It had
previously been owned by an American company that wanted Montague
Construction to convert it into a department store, but when the
company went under it had been left to rot for almost two years. MC
still had the contract to refurbish it, but nothing had been done.
Tom had seen surveys and apparently it was structurally unsound and
would have to practically be rebuilt from scratch. But that didn’t
matter, they had all the time in the world. Now they just needed
Alex and Jack to come and give their approval.

Tom left most of the running of
Montague Construction to a man called Nick Doyle. He’d been doing a
perfectly adequate job of it over the past few years and Tom was
happy to keep it that way. He had final say on the projects but he
preferred to dedicate his time to running the estate with Tara. He
now knew he wasn’t cut out for big business.

Tara leaned on the car bonnet,
complaining of an aching back. She was five months pregnant now and
it showed. She was still skinny everywhere else, but her little
bump stood out proudly and just the night before, in bed, Tom had
felt the baby kick him in the back. It was one of the most exciting
things that had ever happened to him and he felt like telling the
world he’d made contact with his child for the first time
ever.

Finally a taxi came to a halt in
the middle of the road and Alex and Jack emerged. The banter that
used to exist between them seemed to have disappeared the day Alex
was made head of Sheridans. Indeed every time Tom saw her, she
seemed to wear a tight, embittered look upon her little face. It
was as though now she was the big boss lady she intended to look
like one. But it didn’t suit Alex - she’d always been so bubbly and
out-going.

‘We thought you were never
coming,’ Tara gushed, gripping her aching back for effect. ‘I’ve
got a scan at one thirty.’

‘We were stuck in traffic,’ Alex
replied. ‘I’m sorry.’

She stepped up onto the pavement
and looked up at the dilapidated building.

‘What’s this?’ she
asked.

‘It was owned by an American
company called Packers,’ Tom explained. ‘They wanted Montague
Construction to turn it into a department store but went under in
2005 and it’s stood vacant ever since. We’ve still got the contract
to do the work on it and I was wondering if Sheridans would like to
buy it and turn it into a hotel.’

‘What a sound idea,’ Jack chimed.
‘Well done Tom.’

‘And, as an act of defiance, if
it’s alright with you, I think it should be called The
Cusack.’

‘Tom!’ gasped Alex, giving what
was these days a rare smile. ‘You’re outrageous. Is it safe for us
to have a look at?’

‘No, I’ve got the surveys in the
car, but if you like it we’ll get the agent to come along with us
and give us a proper tour.’

Suddenly all time and movement
was halted by a shout that seemed to entirely fill this tiny side
street

‘
There you
are! I’ve been following you and I’ve got you.’

All heads shot round and
Tom thought he was dreaming when he saw his cousin Jackson standing
in the middle of the road, pointing a gun at him. Tom’s first
reaction before anything was to protect his wife and
child.

‘
Tara get in
the car,’ he demanded.

‘
But Tom he’s
got a gun, he...’

‘
Get in the
car!’ he yelled.

Tara scrambled into their
car, pulling Alex in with her. Jack stepped forward, raising his
hands in the air.

‘
Now come on
mate,’ he said. ‘Whatever you’ve got to discuss, you can do it
without using that thing.’

‘
It’s nothing
to do with you,’ Jackson spat, still looking at Tom, the gun never
wavering. ‘It’s between me and him.’

He charged forward and
without thinking Tom turned and ran into the building. It was not
much more than a dark shell filled with rubble and as he ran, his
ankle twisted on a piece of wood. Adrenaline stopped him from
feeling any pain and he kept on going, finding a pillar at the back
of the building and hiding behind it. Hoping Jackson didn’t turn
the gun on one of the others.

‘
Come out you
little weasel,’ Jackson called. ‘Here making plans for
my
company are you? Montage Construction should belong to me. You’ve
ruined me. I’ve nothing left. Nothing.’

Tom tried not to breathe;
scared his cousin would even be able to hear that. He heard another
set of footsteps and a voice.

‘
Come on lad,
put the gun down.

There was a shot and Tom
looked in to see Jackson facing Jack. Jack was on the floor,
conscious but gripping his left arm. Tom thought quickly; Jackson
was willing to use the gun and if he didn’t know where Tom was, the
chances were he’d shoot Jack again, or even worse, turn it on the
women. In probably the most heroic act he’d ever done, Tom loudly
ran off, heading for the rickety staircase at the back of the
building. He heard footsteps and suddenly a bullet flew past his
head, hitting a drainpipe. He looked down and saw Jackson at the
foot of the stairs, heading his way. Tom clambered onto the roof.
It looked like a threadbare quilt, filled with holes which if he
fell into, he would land right at the bottom of the
building.

Dodging the holes, Tom
made it to the other side of the roof, terrified when he realised
there was nowhere he could hide. As Jackson appeared at the top,
Tom knew his only option was to either jump off or fight. He looked
around and found a large piece of wood on the edge of the roof and
picked it up. Using all his strength he aimed it at Jackson and it
worked, hitting him in the shoulder and knocking him flying. Even
better, the gun flew out his hand and went hurtling down the
nearest hole. But like an animal that refused to be beaten, Jackson
clambered to his feet and dodged around the holes, aiming for
Tom.

Tom looked for something
else to throw at him but there was nothing and before he knew it,
his demented cousin was upon him, pushing him back over the wall.
All Tom could see was the face of Jackson and above him the sky,
but he knew a hundred feet below him was the pavement and if he
didn’t fight back he would be greeting it pretty soon.

Reaching up, he tried to
stick his fingers into Jackson’s eyes, but he shook it off,
tightening his grip around Tom’s neck.

‘
If you die,’
he hissed. ‘I’ll contest for Montague Construction and I’ll get it.
My grandmother wouldn’t have wanted a traitor like you to get
it.’

As much as Tom tried to
fight it, the light was starting to grow dim and he couldn’t focus,
that was until he realised the grip had loosened and Jackson was
gone. Staggering to his feet, he looked up and saw that Jack had
made it up here and he and Jackson were grappling on the ground.
Jack looked like some sort of action hero - suited and booted,
ignoring the fact his arm was pouring with blood and fighting the
out of control Jackson.

Like a young girl
fighting off an unwanted suitor, Jackson lifted his knee and hit
Jack in the groin. Caught off guard with a yell of pain, Jack fell
backwards, gripping between his legs. Jackson took this as an
opportunity to get to his feet and make a run for Tom. However in
his madness, he forgot he couldn’t run in a straight line on this
roof and as soon as he was there, he was not. The last thing Tom
saw was his cousin’s head as he hurtled down into a hole. Five
seconds later there was a sickening crunch and Tom ran over,
looking down into the hole to see Jackson’s body sprawled in the
most sickening fashion. He was obviously dead.

Tom rushed over to Jack,
helping him to his feet. The bullet had ripped a massive hole in
his jacket sleeve and he was losing quite a lot of
blood.

‘
You saved my
life,’ Tom uttered. ‘I’m so grateful. We must get you to a
hospital.’

‘
Oh this
little thing,’ Jack said, glancing at the nasty wound. ‘I’ve had a
lot worse than this.’

‘
Even so,’
laughed Tom. ‘I don’t want you bleeding all over my
hotel.’

The emergency services were
called, one ambulance took Jackson’s body off to the morgue; the
other took Jack and Alex to St Mary’s Hospital. Alex was apoplectic
– crying and yelling at Jack for being an idiot and putting his
life at risk and he should have just waited for the police. This
was not the reaction of someone who was concerned about their
business partner; this was the reaction of a terrified lover and
Tom suddenly realised what the grumpiness was all about. He would
put money on Alex and Jack having had an affair that had probably
ended.

The paramedics also checked Tom
over to make sure he was okay and when he saw that Tara was
hyperventilating, they took her blood pressure to ensure neither
she or the baby were in danger.

Given the all clear, Tom
and his wife sat in the car together, holding onto each other’s
hands. Tom had never come so close to death and it had left him
shaken.

‘
I thought I
was going to be a widow,’ Tara sniffed, the tears of relief finally
coming.

‘
Would you
have married again?’ Tom asked, trying to make her laugh. She
smiled and hit him on the shoulder.

‘
Ouch, I’m
tender,’ he winced. ‘Don’t touch me.’

‘
I’ll remind
you of that when I’ve had the baby and you start pawing me shall
I?’

‘
Well if
you’re going to refuse me sex after childbirth I think the least
you can do is oblige me now. Coming close to death makes a man
strangely horny.’

‘
You’re a sick
bastard Thomas Montague,’ Tara said with a shake of the head. ‘Come
on, we’d better go home then.’

Twenty Five

It was another Cusack
family gathering at Layton House but this time the occasion was
bittersweet. The clan had come together to say goodbye to Michael
who was heading off to Chicago to open and run the American Museum
of Irish History. Rehab may have cured him of his demons, but
Michael remained impetuous and despite only knowing her for a few
months, he had asked Mo to marry him and she’d said yes and they
were going off to live in Chicago together. In no way a snob, even
Christian had raised his eyebrows at the thought of this rough
Glaswegian one day being lady of Layton House. But at the end of
the day Michael had swapped boozed and drugs for love and that was
the most important thing.

Alex wasn’t really in the
party mood and was aware she was bad company. She just found it
difficult to be happy these days. Everyone thought it was just
because she’d thrown herself into her new role and was taking it
seriously. No one knew the real reason was that she had a broken
heart. She and Jack were now business partners only and she never
saw him socially. When he was shot she’d remained with him until
the doctors discharged him on the same day but straight afterwards
he went to the Mandarin and had remained there until he was strong
enough to return to Liverpool later that week. Next month Lisa
would be leaving British Airways and settling down to try for the
baby she longed for. Alex would lay awake at night sobbing when she
thought of what she’d thrown away. She’d given the man she loved to
another woman and now she was lonelier than she’d ever
imagined.

On the Saturday afternoon
everyone did their own thing. Tara was exhausted and she and Tom
had retreated to their room for a rest, although by the naughty
twinkles in their eyes as they’d left the table after lunch, Alex
had a suspicion tiredness had very little to do with it. Michael,
Mo, Jo, Jemima and Lucy were gathered on the veranda, deep in
conversation and out the back of the house Christian was playing
cricket with Benny, Lucas and baby Antoine. It was wonderful to see
her father back to full health, but it brought tears to Alex’s eyes
to watch them, Ben conspicuous by his absence. She still missed him
so much.

Wanting to be alone, she
went and sat on the stone steps that led to the ornamental gardens
and even though it was a cold December day, there was something
refreshing about the cold wind blowing around her face. She smiled
as she watched Paula pushing Andrew in his wheelchair, showing him
the array of winter plants Ben loved so much. Alex wondered how
happy Andrew was to have made peace with his daughter. Looking at
them both, she wondered how come no one had guessed the truth long
ago - they looked so alike.

After a while, Paula
brought Andrew back and Alex helped her lift his wheelchair up the
steps.

‘
Are grandpa’s
plants growing well?’ Alex asked.

‘
They’re
beautiful Alex,’ Andrew smiled, reaching back and patting his
daughter’s hand, which lay upon his shoulder. ‘Paula’s going to
take some cuttings for me.’

‘
And I’ll have
to plant them too I suppose,’ she laughed. ‘Mrs Ball doesn’t like
getting her hands dirty!’