Part 10 (1/2)

Jesse could see something in his father's eyes that he hadn't seen before. It stopped him short.

'What's happened, Dad?' Jesse asked, taking a seat opposite his father.

Edward steeled himself and took another mouthful of whisky. 'I've sold Clovelly Fisheries a share of Behenna's Boats. We're now one company.'

'What?' Jesse felt the news wash over him like a bucket of cold water. 'But what does that mean? Are we out of a job?'

'No!' Edward almost shouted. Then more calmly, for fear that he was losing control of the conversation, 'No, son, this is a good thing. I had to make sure you had a business to inherit. Things have been more of a struggle than you realise over the last few years. Bryn's paid a good price and we're out of the danger zone. Clovelly Fisheries will open up new markets for our fish and all of our jobs are safe. The company will carry on as we always have for now, anyway.'

'What do you mean ”for now”?' Jesse asked stiffly. He couldn't believe that his father had actually gone ahead and done this. He knew that his father and Bryn Clovelly had been cooking up some stupid plan between them, but for his father to actually sell some of their a.s.sets off ... 'How much 'ave you sold him?' he asked coldly.

Edward paused. 'Fifty-one per cent.'

'Fifty-one per cent?' Jesse exploded out of his chair. 'But that means they own more than half Behenna's Boats isn't yours any more isn't ours. They can do whatever they want with us.'

Edward held his hands out to Jesse in a placating gesture. 'Of course they can't. I'll sit on the board with the other members. And as part of the deal, I've acquired a small share in the Clovelly Fisheries. I'll have a say, like all the other members, and we can't be railroaded into anything.'

Jesse felt a well of emotion rise up in his throat. All his life he knew that his future lay with his dad on the boats. It had been his granddad's, then his dad's, and one day it was going to be his. Of course he wanted to see the world, but he always knew he'd come back for the boats one day. But now ... now they belonged to the Clovellys.

'You've sold our birthright.'

This time, Edward was out of his chair again, his face almost purple with emotion. 'No, no! It's the opposite! I've saved your birthright. If things had carried on as before, there might have been precious little to leave you, and what would you have said about me then? I've done this for you, Jesse, for you and for your kids. I can't rely on Grant, can I? I have to do what I think is right for you.'

Father and son faced each other across the living room, their chests heaving with emotion. Edward rubbed his hands across his face.

'Listen, Jesse, this is the way to survive. We're bigger and better like this ... believe me.'

Jesse slumped down in his chair, unable to look his father in the eye. 'What will happen to the business when you're gone?'

'Well, my share will go to you.' Edward hesitated. 'But there is one way you can guarantee that the business will stay in the family ...'

Jesse looked at his father, knowing exactly what he was going to say, but this time the words took on a whole new meaning.

9.

December 1992 It was the Tuesday after Christmas and Truro was in the grip of the coldest winter in years.

'I'm gonna feel a right prat dressed up like a tailor's dummy.' Mickey was standing in the changing room of the gents' outfitters in just his boxer shorts and socks.

Jesse, in the cubicle next door, agreed. 'But it keeps the girls happy.'

'Aye,' sighed Mickey. 'You sure that's what you want, Jesse?' Jesse never talked of it, but anyone with an ear to listen and eyes to see couldn't but notice how much Edward Behenna had interfered in his son's life. Not for the first time, Mickey felt relief that his own father seemed to want only his son's happiness, rather than talk of dynasties and building the future.

Jesse didn't answer for a moment and Mickey heard only the rustling of clothing as Jesse undressed.

'I've got everything I've ever wanted,' Jesse replied flatly.

The dapper sales a.s.sistant returned with an armful of garments on hangers.

'Now then, sirs, here we are.' He pa.s.sed over matching pinstriped trousers and tailcoats to the young men. 'If you'll just slip those on for size.'

After quite a lot of fitting and twirling, even Jesse and Mickey liked what they saw in the mirrors.

'Now have you thought about what collar you'll be wearing? Wing or regular? Of course it would depend on the neckwear cravat or the traditional tie? Also, would you be wanting a handkerchief in the pocket or would that be too much if you are sporting a bloom in your b.u.t.tonhole?'

What seemed like hours later, Jesse and Mickey emerged from the shop carrying their hired finery. 'Goodbye, gentlemen, and may I extend every good wish for the future.' The shop a.s.sistant smiled benignly and closed the door behind them, with a last admiring glance of their tightly muscled backs as he did so.

It was already dark outside and the Christmas lights swagged across the street were blinking merrily. Jesse and Mickey pushed open the door of the nearest pub. It smelled comfortingly of tobacco and beer, acc.u.mulated over many years. Large paper s...o...b..a.l.l.s dangled from the ceiling, paper chains connecting them in a maze of loops. Only one other customer was in the bar and he was playing the fruit machine; a bored barmaid sat on a stool smoking. She stubbed out the cigarette and walked round behind the bar as Jesse and Mickey ordered two pints.

'I didn't know what to say when he asked if we were sporting a bloom in our b.u.t.tonholes!' Jesse laughed as the two propped up the bar.

Mickey started sn.i.g.g.e.ring. 'I didn't dare look at you. But 'e knows his stuff, though. You can't deny 'e's made a couple of silk purses out of our sow's ears.'

Jesse cupped his hands round his crotch. ''E's not touching my sow's ears.'

Mickey grinned, then started mincing up and down the bar, imitating the salesman's melodious voice. 'Would sirs prefer a stiff or soft one? Tie that is ...' as Jesse brushed away tears of laughter.

'Stop it, Mickey, you idiot!'

Jesse grabbed his pint and turned to see that the salesman had entered the pub; his face made it clear that he'd seen Mickey's imitation. Jesse and Mickey stood stock-still, horrified.

'I saw that you sirs had come for refreshment. I had forgotten to give you the receipt you will require for returning the suits. This is proof of your hire agreement.' He handed over the receipt to Mickey with dignity.

Mickey didn't know what to say, so he blurted out, 'Thanks and ... well, thanks.'

'It's been my pleasure.'

The a.s.sistant turned to leave but Jesse stepped towards him. 'Can we buy you a drink?' he said quietly.

The a.s.sistant thought for a moment then looked at his watch. 'I shut the shop in twenty minutes, after which time, if you gentlemen are still here, I should love a drink. A large gin and tonic should suffice. My name, by the way, is Bill.'

It was one of the funniest evenings Mickey and Jesse had ever spent. Bill told them stories of his life as a tailor, and of his brief marriage to a girl he had truly loved but not in the way that either of them had wanted.

'I have a son who I dote on, and he and his mother and I have an excellent relations.h.i.+p. I even helped to choose her dress when she remarried. A lovely man. Just like you two young gentlemen. He laughed at me behind my back, too, but I won him round.' Mickey and Jesse felt ashamed.

'I'm really sorry ...'

'No need to apologise. I have grown a very thick skin. Now, tell me all about the young lady you are to marry. New Year's Eve, did you say?'

Greer's mother was having trouble getting the zip over the gathers of the waistband. She gave it a tug.

'Ow. That's my skin.'