Part 28 (1/2)

”I've got to go, Paula,” Vivienne said hurriedly, after a short pause. ”Daddy needs me in the stables. So I'll say good-bye now.”

”Tell Sally to get in touch with me if she needs anything. Good-bye, Vivienne dear.”

Paula stared at the phone for a long moment, reflecting on their conversation. Well, Sally was not in Ireland. More than likely she was not in London either, since it was not her favorite place. Could she still be in Yorks.h.i.+re? If so, where? A phrase Vivienne had used echoed in her mind. She had referred to her sister as a wounded bird. A figure of speech to describe Sally's state? Or had it perhaps been an unconscious a.s.sociation in the girl's mind? Wounded birds tried to get back to their nests . . . Heron's Nest? Of course. Sally loved Scarborough, and many of her paintings were of the spots where they had spent so much time as children. That's where / would go if I wanted to hide, Paula said to herself. It's accessible, comfortable, the larder is always fully stocked, and old Mrs. Bonnyface has a set of keys.

Lifting the receiver, Paula started to dial Heron's Nest and then changed her mind. It would be infinitely kinder to leave Sally alone for the time being. Whether she was in Scarborough or not was irrelevant, really. The important thing was that she was nowhere near Clonloughlin, and this knowledge now eased Paula's anxiety about Sally Harte, of whom she was extremely fond.

”Paula?”

”Yes, Gaye?” Paula asked, leaning closer to the intercom.

”Sarah's arrived.”

”Have her come in, Gaye, please.”

A moment later Sarah Lowther was walking across the floor, the expression on her pale freckled face as purposeful as her step. She wore a bottle-green gabardine suit so beautifully cut it did wonders for her somewhat plumpish figure. Also, the color was a flattering contrast to her russet-red hair, which framed her face in luxuriant waves and softened her broad but not unattractive features.

”h.e.l.lo, Paula,” she said briskly, coming to a halt in the center of the room. ”You're looking well. Thinner than ever. I don't know how you do it... it's a struggle for me to lose an ounce.”

Paula half-smiled and, brus.h.i.+ng aside the personal comment, said, ”Welcome back, Sarah.” She stepped around the desk, kissed her cousin on the cheek. ”Let's sit over there by the fire,” she went on. ”Would you like a cup of tea?”

”No. Thanks anyway.” Sarah turned smartly oh her high heels and moved in the direction of the sofa. Seating herself in the corner nearest the fireplace, she leaned back, crossed her legs, and smoothed her skirt. She let her eyes rove over Paula, admiring the simplicity and elegance of the deep-purple wool dress. It was a marvel, and as head of the fas.h.i.+on division of Harte Enterprises Sarah knew it was by Yves Saint Laurent. Biting back the compliment which had sprung to her lips, she said, ”Jonathan tells me the Irish lot are killing each other off ... I'm surprised Grandmother hasn't hotfooted it back here.”

”That's not a very nice thing to say about Anthony, Sarah,” Paula gently reproved, seating herself in a chair, frowning. ”Min's death was an accident, and why should Gran come back? The whole thing's going to be over and done with by tomorrow at this time.”

Sarah gave Paula an odd look, raised an auburn brow. ”Let's hope you're right.”

”Tell me about the opening of the new hotel and our first boutique,” Paula said, neatly changing the subject.

Sarah remained silent.

Paula insisted, ”Come on, I'm longing to hear all about it.”

”It went off well,” Sarah said at last. ”But then why wouldn't it? I've worked very hard for months to ensure that it would. To tell you the truth, the whole trip was a hard grind. I was on my feet twenty-four hours a day. Miranda was tied up with the hotel, so I had to really buckle down, supervise the unpacking and pressing of the dresses, get the windows dressed, create eye-catching interior displays,” she grumbled. ”But the merchandise I selected turned out to be 5erfect, even though I do say so myself. My Lady Hamilton resses and resort wear appealed to everyone. They said the colors were fantastic, the fabrics superior, the designs bang on. We were jammed the day we opened, so we should do record business right through the season.”

”Oh I am pleased,” Paula said with enthusiasm, deciding to ignore Sarah's remarks about her contribution to the boutique, which, in all truth, had been negligible. She asked, ”How's Merry?”

”All right, I suppose. I didn't see much of her. The O'Neills invited a plane load of celebrities to the hotel's 'gala opening weekend, so naturally she was busy rubbing noses with the famous.”

Paula's back went up at this remark, which she deemed b.i.t.c.hy and uncalled for, but she wisely let it pa.s.s. ”Did Shane fly down from New York?”

”Yes.” .

”And?”

”And what?” Sarah asked, her voice turning huffy all of a sudden. She gave Paula a challenging stareand her face settled in cold lines.

Instantly struck by the dislike in Sarah's expression, Paula recoiled in surprise. Thrown though she was, she managed to say, ”Surely you saw something of Shane and Uncle Bryan? Merry may have been rushed off her feet as head of public relations, but I can't believe the O'Neills ignored you. After all, they're family, and they're not like that.”

”Oh yes, I was invited to the gala evenings. But I was generally too exhausted to enjoy them. I didn't have much fun at all. That side of it was a complete bust.”

Sarah glanced into the fire, remembering her mortifying weekend of embarra.s.sment, acute disappointment. Shane had been cruel, ignoring her much of the time. And when he had deigned to notice her he had been offhand, patently disinterested in her as a woman. He wouldn't have treated Paula in such a rotten way, she thought miserably, sinking back into herself. An image of his face leapt out at her from the flames, his expression one of immense pa.s.sion and love. She blinked, wanting to expunge this from her mind. That look had not been for her, but for Paula . . . that terrible day of the christening . . .

She would never forget that look or that occasion. It was only then she had realized, to her horror and distress, that Shane O'Neill loved Paula Fairley. That's the real reason he has no time for me, she said silently. d.a.m.n Paula. I detest her. Jealousy rose up in Sarah so unexpectedly and with such force she kept her face averted, willing the emotion to go away, feeling faint and sick inside.

”Well, I'm sorry you didn't have a good time,” Paula murmured, attempting to be gracious, yet asking herself what she had done to engender such sudden dislike in Sarah. Paula sat back and her eyes narrowed thoughtfully. She had no reason to think that Sarah was lying about the gala weekend, but somehow she did. She considered Sarah's self-congratulatory remarks, her pleased tone when she had spoken of her hard work. How she exaggerated.

Paula could not resist adding, ”So the work was grueling- that's retailing, you know, Sarah. And, let's face it, you were the one who insisted oh going to Barbados. If I-”

”And it's a jolly good thing I did, isn't it?” Sarah interjected peremptorily, tearing her gaze from the fire, swinging her head to glare at Paula. ”Somebody had to be there to organize things. We'd have been in a nice mess if we'd relied on Merry, in view of her abdication of her duties. Of if we'd left things to chance as you wanted us to do.”

Paula was further astonished by this criticism and the belligerence underlying the comment. Unwilling to let Sarah get away with it, she said with some sharpness, ”That's most unfair of you. I had no intention of leaving anything to chance. I had intended to fly out there myself, until you made such a song and dance about going. Anyway, you don't have to worry about the other boutiques. I've hired Melanie Redfern from Harvey Nichols. She starts next week. She will be in charge of the Harte shops in all the O'Neill hotels, and she'll be working closely with me. And Merry, of course.”

”I see.” Sarah s.h.i.+fted her position and cleared her throat. ”Actually, the main reason I came to see you today is to make you an offer.”

”An offer?” Paula stiffened, wondering what Sarah was about to spring on her.

”Yes. I'd like to buy the boutiques for my division. There won't be any problem about money. We have stacks of spare cash. You see, in view of my considerable involvement with the boutiques, I'd like to

have them under my aegis, make them part of Lady Hamilton Clothes. So just name your price-I'll meet it.'

Flabbergasted though she was at Sarah's ridiculous proposition, Paula retorted swiftly, ”Even if I wanted to, I couldn't do that, as you well know. The boutiques belong to the Harte department store chain.”

Sarah stared Paula down. Her expression hardened. ”So what. I'm offering you an easy way to make a fast profit. And a big one. That should please you, since your eyes are eternally glued to the bottom of a balance sheet.”

”I'd like to remind you that the Harte chain is a public company,” Paula exclaimed, thinking that her cousin had taken leave of her senses. ”I do have shareholders and a board of directors to answer to, in case this has escaped your notice.”

Sarah smiled narrowly. ”Don't talk to me about the board at Harte's. We all know about the board, my dear. It consists of Grandmother, you, your parents, Alexander, and a handful of old codgers who'll do anything you say. If you wanted to, you could easily sell me the boutiques. It's your decision. Don't expect me to believe otherwise. That board will acquiesce to your wishes no matter what, as they always did what Grandmother wanted in the past. She had them in her pocket, and so do you.”

Paula fixed a pair of immensely cold eyes on her cousin, and her voice was equally icy, as she said, ”Harte's has invested a great deal of money in the new shops, and I have personally devoted an incredible amount of time and effort to the project for many months. I therefore have no intention of selling them to you or to anyone else, even if the board sanctioned such a sale, which, believe me, they wouldn't, not at this stage. You see, Sarah, I want the boutiques for Harte's. They're part of our growth and expansion program. Also, I-”

”Your effort!” Sarah cried, seizing on this particular point. ”That's a laugh. I've worked much harder than you, and I selected all of the merchandise. Under the circ.u.mstances, it's only fair that-”

”Stop right there!” Paula warned, her face revealing her growing annoyance and impatience. ”I'm not sitting still for this nonsense, Sarah. Why, you're b.l.o.o.d.y preposterous. You walk in here, commence to criticize me, then try to take credit for the success of the Barbados shop . . . and at the moment that's a moot point. Only time will tell us how successful it really is. But getting back to your efforts, I think you have a real nerve. It just so happens that Emily has done a lot more for us than you. She purchased every single accessory, which was no mean feat, and I recall that 1 picked out every bit of beachwear. Furthermore, Merry and I selected all of the clothing from your company-not you. I'll concede that you made the best lines available at Lady Hamilton, and designed the special evening wear, and perhaps you have worked conscientiously for the past ten days. However, your contribution to the first boutique was minor, very minor indeed.”

Paula rose and walked over to her desk and sat down behind it. She finished quietly, ”As for trying to buy the boutiques from Harte's-” She shook her head wonderingly. ”I can only add that that's the most foolish thing 'I've ever heard, especially coming from you, when you of all people know how Grandy has structured things. Look, if you want to get involved in a new project, maybe we can put our heads together-” Paula stopped, immediately regretted her conciliatory gesture. Sarah's coldness was more p.r.o.nounced than ever.

Sarah stood up without saying a thing. She made a beeline for the desk, stood facing Paula.