Crimson (48 page)

4o6

The next day, the taxi arrived at the nursing home as the dock above the entrance portico struck ten. Buzz carefully counted out coins for the taxi driver, who said, “That ain’t much of a tip, lady.”

“It’s exactly ten per cent,” Buzz retorted.

“And what have you done to deserve a tip? You didn’t help me out of the cab.”

“Well, it’s snowing.”

“Exactly.” Before entering the nursing home, Buzz stood under the imposing portico and carefully stamped the snow from her shoes. She settled the squirrel evening cape that had belonged to her mother on top of her light summer coat, then walked in and asked to see Mrs. O’Dare.

The smiling receptionist disappeared. Smiling Matron Braddock appeared in her place. The stocky woman looked intently at Buzz with raised eyebrows.

“Is Mr. Grant with you?” Her voice was light and charming, but her eyes were hard.

“He usually accompanies visitors. We don’t want Mrs. O’Dare disturbed by people she would rather not see.” 61 came with Mr. Grant yesterday,” Buzz reminded the matron.

“And I’m going back to the south of France tomorrow. I wanted to see Mrs. O’Dare once more before I 90.

As Buzz entered her room, Elinor’s eyelids slowly opened.

“Hello, Buzz,” she whispered, feeling warm relief flood her body. Now she could stop worrying. Buzz would take care of everything.

Buzz settled herself on the upright chair by Elinor’s bed, firmly clasping her oldfashioned handbag on her lap. The nurse left the room.

“Can you walk, Nell?” Buzz whispered back.

“Do you go to the lav by yourselff “Yes,” Elinor said weakly.

“They’re not going to lay me out yet, you know.”

Buzz said, “Soon as my back’s turned, look what happens! That stuff they’re giving you would kill a dozen cats. But once you’re out of here, I’ll have you well in no time. And I ain’t never going away again.”

“Dear, dear Buzz. But they’ll never let me leave. Not without a fuss. I signed something.”

“I expect you signed in as a voluntary patient; then they’re covered, Evans said. Course they don’t want you to leave. They won’t get paid if you leave I bet this costs a pretty penny.” Buzz looked around the room.

“But I ain’t scared of that great ox of a matron, even if she does remind me of my old commandant. and I ain’t scared of Adam.” Elinor’s eyes filled with tears.

“Do you really think that Adam…”

“Adam brought you here in the first place, my lamb.”

“Why did the girls allow it? Elinor asked sadly. She could vaguely remember Annabel and Miranda’s visit, but Clare hadn’t come. On the plane to London, Adam had said that Clare still refused to see her; he had hinted that she expected an apology. What sad stupidity. How silly they had both been. Of course she would apologize to Clare.

Buzz said, “The girls trust Adam, but he’s getting too big for his boots ordering everyone around. Adam even says Saracen costs too much to run. He says them trustees are going to sell it and keep you here because it’ll be cheaper.”

“Sell Saracen! Never! Why should Adam bother to do that? He doesn’t benefit from the trust … I “Adam’s up to no good,” Buzz said firmly.

“But we won’t worry about that now. What’s important is to get you out of here. And this is how we’ll do it!”

Elinor listened carefully as Buzz leaned close to her ear and outlined her plan.

“I’ll go straight back to Eastbourne. I’ll buy two identical morrow I’ll turn-roats and hats in some bright colour. To up here again at ten and tell the taxi to wait. I’ll ask him to move along a bit, so he ain’t blocking the entrance. I want him waiting by this corner. Then I come in with my suitcase, and Matron thinks I’m on my way to the airport. She’s not to know I was supposed to catch yesterday’s plane.”

“Thank God you didn’t.”

“In that suitcase, Nell, will be a coat and hat same as ne for you to wear. I get you dressed. I open them glass doors to the garden. You walk out slowly, with your head turned away from the house, to my taxi. You get in the taxi. I wait for you to do that; then I simply walk through the main hall, my empty suitcase in my hand. Then we drive hell for leather to the airport and catch the next plane to Nice.”

“Buzz, darling Buzz, that’s a brilliant escape plan.” Elinor’s face crumpled and she started to cry.

The door of the bedroom flew open to reveal the huge, forbidding presence of the matron. Firmly she said, “We don’t want to over fire Mrs. O’Dare.” Buzz stood up.

“I was about to go. I’ll pop in tomorrow to say goodbye on my. way to the airport.” She wagged a finger at Elinor.

“Now be a good girl and do as you’re told.” In the cab on the way back to her Eastbourne hotel, Buzz checked her plan; she was determined to look upon this as a lark, as she and Nell had regarded some of their dangerous escapades in the Great War. Buzz spent the cab ride reminiscing about those times, some grim and some sad, but all of which made her smile.

In the darkening afternoon, the taxi pulled up to her kotel. She paid the driver, and as she turned to enter, she felt a snap. Buzz found

herself lying face up in the snow, in great pain, unable to move: as helpless as a black beetle flipped on to its back.

Immediately Buzz knew she’d broken her hip. It irritated her to think that she hadn’t been doing anything reckless like running to catch a bus; but she had a private theory that an old person didn’t break a hip because she fell, but fell because her hip snapped, after gradual erosion.

The taxi driver jumped from his cab and hurried to her side.

“Lucky thing I saw you in the rear mirror just as I was driving off!”

As he ran to the hotel for help, Buzz realized that Elinor’s escape would have to be postponed. She must let Elinor know this. She would telephone Miranda.

The following day, Elinor again hid her medication under her tongue, slipped it into her handkerchief, and later flushed it down the lavatory. With carefully suppressed excitement, she waited for Buzz to arrive.

But Buzz did not come. After a few days, having received no telephone call, letter, or message of any kind from Buzz, Elinor started to lose hope. The medical staff had realized that she wasn’t swallowing her medication, and it was now dissolved before being administered. In her occasional lucid moments, Elinor again wondered if she was losing her sanity.

MONDAY, 4 MARCH 1968

4Mr. Grant? Tell him to come straight in.” As she replaced the telephone, Miranda, prim in a high-necked grey flannel suit, checked the Cartier travelling clock on her white desk She had to finish reading the pile of reports in front of her and make the necessary decisions before tomorrow’s jaanagement meeting.

Adam sauntered in, his hands in the pockets of his dark city suit. He looked at Miranda’s white, exhausted face and said, “I thought you might like to knock off early and go to Hair’.

Hair, the psychedelic tribal-love-rock American musical that celebrated hippie values, free love, hash, and hatred of IJhe Vietnam War, had opened the day after stage censorship by the lord chamberlain had been abolished.

“I’d love to, but Miranda pointed to the piles of papers.

“And I have to find time tomorrow to visit Buzz.” Buzz was still in an Eastbourne hospital.

“Forget everything else, just for one evening. We’ve got something to celebrate. In our first year as a public company, our pre-tax profits have increased by twenty per cent.”

“But KITS showed a loss of thirteen thousand pounds,” Miranda reminded Adam.

He shrugged his shoulders.

“That’s understandable. KITS paid the expenses of SUPPLY KITS during its first year of trading including those huge consultants” fees and all bank interest. It’s not really a loss if you look at the overall company situation.”

“It’s not only the loss that’s worrying me,” Miranda said.

“KITS now has weak middle management and poor internal communication; that’s causing us big problems. And we need better distribution, but can’t afford it.”

“So long as you know what’s wrong, you can fix it.”

“Sure if I had the time.” Wearily Miranda put down her pen.

“I wish I could turn the clock back two years, when my time was spent running KITS. It depresses me to waste time being photographed and hyped.”

“Your real problem is that you’ve become very successful, very quickly, Miranda. Some people would like your problem.”

“Every morning when I wake up, I ask myself, If I’m so damned successful, why do I feel tired and miserable?” “You just need a couple of days off,” Adam. soothed.

“Why not fly to St-Moritz for a long, lazy weekend? Get a little snow and sunshine.” Hands in pockets, he moved into the horseshoe of her desk.

Miranda swivelled her white leather chair around to face him. She laughed.

“That’s unlike you, Adam. What do you want?” He leaned forward and quickly unbuttoned the top of Miranda’s prim suit.

“I want you,” he said firmly, and slid his hand beneath the grey flannel.

Adam had never touched her in the office, and she was not expecting it. Miranda felt the immediate and powerful reaction of her body to this forbidden sensuality. Trembling, she reached backward for the telephone.

“June? No more calls please.” Her voice was slightly over controlled

Adam pulled her from her chair, undid two more buttons, quickly unzipped her skirt: Miranda was left standing in a daffodil-yellow camisole and black high-heeled boots. Adam gently slid the daffodil straps from her shoulders.

Miranda gasped, “We always said … never in the office…”

V2

“I don’t remember.” Adam picked her up in his arms and Akid her on her desk: reports slithered off it and the Cartier clock crashed to the floor.

“We’ll leave the boots on,” Adam said.

“Adam, I simply can’t risk it. If June came in, this would be round the entire company within seconds. And I can’t lock the door. Let’s go back to my place and What Adam said then was the last thing that Miranda expected. He looked down at her flaming hair and beige, naked body and whispered, “I love you.” That left Miranda speechless. Adam started to stroke her body. He murmured, “I love your boobs, and I love your ass. And I love you because you’re so exciting. And I love the way you love it.”

“Only with you,” Miranda whispered.

Adam reached to a shelf behind Miranda’s desk and picked up a case of cosmetic samples. He flicked it open, picked a magenta lipstick, and scrawled across her breasts, GREAT BOOBS.

Gently he turned her body over. He picked up a pot of turquoise eyeshadow, dipped his forefinger in it, and scrawled across her buttocks, GREAT ASS.

Then he turned her once more, gently, and pried her thighs apart; in violet eyebrow pencil, he drew an arrow UP each white thigh. At the head of each arrow, he scrawled further appreciation.

With a lipstick pencil, he drew bracelets of crimson hearts around her wrists; with green eyeliner, he encircled her ankles with bracelets of kisses. He covered her body with colourful graffiti.

Adam then selected a very expensive make-up brush, intended to apply blusher, and started carefully to brush Miranda’s tuft in a circular motion.

Later, on their way to the theatre, Miranda snuggled happily against Adam in the back of the chauffeur-driven Mercedes.

“By the way,” he said, as if he had almost forgotten to mention it.

“Remember you said you wanted a better distribution system for KIT ST Miranda nodded.

“And you’d like to expand into other countries, where the KITS system is already being copied?.

Miranda nodded again.

“It so happens that SUPPLY KITS also needs more cash. It looks as if we’ll be able to buy the Stiebel-Stein mail-order business, so I’ve been working on ways to raise the money. As a matter of fact, that’s what I came into your office to discuss, you gorgeous man trap

“Explain,” Miranda said sleepily, wondering if she’d be able to stay awake until the end of the show.

“We’ll have a rights issue.” Miranda sat up abruptly. She knew that if a company issued extra shares to raise more money, the value of the existing shares was diluted.

“I don’t like the idea of further diluting my shareholding,” she said. Adam ignored her objection.

“To raise sufficient capital, we’ll probably need a one-for-three issue.”

“That’ll mean issuing one extra share for every three existing shares. You’re telling me that instead of owning all of three oranges, I’ll own three quarters of four oranges.”

“Exactly. You’ll still be worth exactly the same amount, but the company will have more working capital.” In a worried voice, Miranda asked, “Won’t a rights issue make SUPPLY KITS more vulnerable to a take overT “Theoretically, yes, but that’s unlikely to happen so long as the company is successful and the shareholders approve of the way it’s run.” Adam patted her knee. Miranda instinctively pulled away from him.

“You sl,ould remember that very few chief executives of public companies own a controlling interest in them,” Adam said patiently.

“There’s no need for you to worry. Your shareholders have complete confidence in you. And let’s not forget, you’re all-important to the company in other ways: you’re the chief shareholder and the public image of the firm.” Miranda sighed.

“Adam, I do wish you wouldn’t spring these things on me when I’m not expecting them.”

“I’m sorry, darling. I thought you’d be as excited as I am by the idea.” He should have stuck to his usual tactics. When Adam had a document for Miranda to sign that he thought she might argue about, he always included it in a sheaf of other papers he handed to her at the end of the day when she was exhausted. He always said that these docents needed immediate decisions. While she exam med the papers, he would distract her attention by asking questions about other matters. If she queried anything, he blasted her with expertise. Because she trusted Adam, Miranda allowed herself to be convinced.

On the following afternoon, Miranda went to Eastbourne. As always, she was depressed by the sight of her grandmother: Elinor lay inert, neatly tucked into her bed, white, frail, and exhausted.