Hold the Dream. Barbara Taylor Bradford
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style, his directness, his boyish impudence. She stifled a laugh, said, ‘I see. Do continue.’
‘Right,’ Shane replied, all seriousness again. ‘Look, we’re a foreign corporation, and in my opinion that city’s as tight as drum. We can’t go in cold … well, we could, but we’d have a tough time. I’m sure we’d be resented. We need advisers – the proper advisers – and some good connections. Political connections for one thing. And we’ll need help with the unions, with any number of things. I’m sure you of all people understand what I’m talking about, Aunt Emma. So, where do we go? Who do we go to?’
Emma’s mind had been working with its usual swiftness and acuity, and she saw the sense in Shane’s words. He had analysed the situation most shrewdly. She told him this, went on without hesitation, ‘It would be unwise of you to start operating in New York without the most influential backing and support. You’ll need everybody in your corner, and the only way you’ll get them in it is through friends. Good friends with clout. I think I can help.’
‘I knew if anybody could, it would be you. Thanks, Aunt Emma,’ Shane said, and she saw him visibly relaxing.
‘Yes, we’re very grateful, me darlin’,’ Blackie added, pushing himself up out of the chair. He took his drink to the console behind the sofa, plopped in extra ice, added more water to his whiskey, and said, ‘Well, go on, Shane, as Emma asked.’ He touched her shoulder lightly, lovingly. Emma glanced behind her, questions on her face. Blackie chuckled. ‘Oh yes, there’s more,’ he said, and ambled back to his chair by the fireside.
Shane said: ‘We have a solid, well-established law firm representing us in the purchase of the hotel – they’re specialists in real estate. However, I feel we are going to need additional representation for other business matters. I’d like to find a really prestigious law firm that has political savvy and a few gilt-edged connections. Any suggestions about that?’
There was a moment of thoughtfulness, before Emma said, ‘Yes, of course. I could send you to my lawyers, and to any number of people who would be of use to you. But I’ve been thinking hard whilst I’ve been listening, and I believe there is one person who would be of more assistance to you than me and my lawyers and my friends put together. His name is Ross Nelson. He’s a banker – head of a private bank, in fact. He has the very best connections in New York, throughout the States, for that matter. I’m sure he’ll be able to recommend the law firm most qualified for your purposes, and assist you in a variety of other ways.’
‘But will he do it?’ Shane asked, doubt echoing.
‘He will if I ask him,’ she said, giving Shane the benefit of a reassuring smile. ‘I can telephone him on Monday, and explain everything. I hope I’ll be able to enlist his help immediately. Would you like me to do that?’
‘Yes, I would. We would.’ He swung his head to Blackie. ‘Wouldn’t we, Grandfather?’
‘Anything you say, my boy. This is your deal.’ Blackie tapped ash from his cigar, looked across at Emma. ‘That name Nelson rings a bell. Have I met him?’
‘Why yes, I think you did once. It was some years ago, Blackie. Ross was over in England with his great-uncle, Daniel P. Nelson. Dan was a close friend and associate of Paul’s, if you recall. He’s the fellow who wanted me to send Daisy over to the States during the war, to stay with him and his wife, Alicia. But as you know, I never wanted Daisy to be evacuated. Anyway, the Nelsons only had one child, Richard. The boy was killed in the Pacific. Dan was never quite the same after that. He made Ross his heir, after his wife, of course. Ross inherited controlling interest in the bank in Wall Street when Dan died, and God knows what else. Not millions. Zillions, I think. Daniel P. Nelson was one of the richest men in America, had tremendous power.’
Shane was impressed and this showed in his face. He asked quickly, ‘How old a man is Ross Nelson?’
‘Oh he must be in his late thirties, early forties, not much more.’
‘Are you sure he won’t mind helping us? I’d hate to think he would regard your request as an imposition. That kind of situation can create difficulties,’ Shane remarked. He was intrigued with Nelson, wanted to know more about him. He reached for his drink and took a swallow, observing Emma out of the corner of his eye.
Emma laughed quietly. ‘He owes me a few favours. And he won’t think I’m imposing, I can assure you of that.’ She gave Shane a shrewd look through her narrowed green eyes. ‘Mind you, I know Ross, and he’s going to expect something in return. Business, I’m sure, in one form or another. Actually, you might consider doing some of your investment banking with him, and let his bank handle your affairs on that side of the Atlantic. You could do worse.’ There was a cynical edge to her voice, as she finished, ‘There are two things you must remember, Shane … one hand always washes the other, and there’s never anything free in this world. Especially in business.’
Shane met her cool, concentrated gaze steadily. ‘I understand,’ he said softly. ‘And I learned long ago that anything for nothing is usually not worth having. As for Ross Nelson, I’ll know how to show my appreciation, you have no worries there.’
Blackie, who had been following this exchange with considerable interest, slapped his knee and laughed uproariously. ‘Ah, Emma, it’s a spry one I’ve got me here.’ He shook his head and his benevolent smile expressed his love and pride. ‘There are no flies on you, my boy, I’m glad to see, and it won’t be the same without you.’ A hint of sadness crept on to his face, wiping away the laughter. ‘I know it’s important and necessary, but I hate to see you go away again, and so quickly. It pains me, it truly does.’
Emma put down her glass and stared at Shane. ‘When are you leaving, Shane?’
‘I fly to New York on Monday morning. I’ll be staying there for a good six months, maybe longer. I’ll be supervising the rebuilding of the hotel in Manhattan, and trotting down to the Caribbean every few weeks to check on our hotels in the islands.’
‘Six months,’ she repeated in surprise. ‘That is a long time. We shall miss you.’ But perhaps it’s just as well he won’t be around for a while, she added under her breath, thinking of her granddaughter Sarah Lowther. Out of sight, out of mind. Or so she hoped.
Shane cut into her thoughts, when he said, ‘I shall miss you too, Aunt Emma, and Grandfather, everyone in fact. But I’ll be back almost before you can say Jack Robinson.’ He leaned into Emma and squeezed her arm. ‘And keep an eye on this lovable old scoundrel here. He’s very dear to me.’
‘And to me too, Shane. Of course I’ll look after him.’
‘Ah, and won’t we be taking care of each other now,’ Blackie announced, sounding extremely pleased with himself all of a sudden, thinking of his Plan with a capital P. ‘But then we’ve been doing that for half a century or more, and it’s a difficult habit to break, sure an’ it is.’
‘I can imagine.’ Shane laughed, marvelling at the two of them. What an extraordinary pair they were, and the love and friendship they felt for each other was a most enviable thing. Sighing under his breath, he reached for his scotch, peered into the amber liquid, reflecting. After a swallow he turned to Emma. ‘But getting back to Ross Nelson, what kind of a chap is he?’
‘Unusual in many ways,’ Emma said slowly, staring into space, as if visualizing Ross Nelson in her mind’s eye. ‘Ross is deceptive. He has a certain charm, and he appears to be very friendly. On the surface. I’ve always thought there was an innate coldness in him, and a curious kind of calculation, as if he stands apart from himself, watching the effect he has on people. There’s a terrific ego there, and especially when it comes to women. He’s something of a ladies’ man, and has just been divorced for the second time. Not that this is significant: on the other hand, it’s frequently struck me that he might be unscrupulous … in his private life.’
She paused, brought her eyes to meet Shane’s, and added, ‘But that has nothing to do with you or me. As far as business