Twisted Love and Money (5 page)

With a light
heart he sat at his desk and began to go through the morning post
in earnest.

Janet went with
Christine, her head in a spin. Her thoughts buzzed. Stage one; she
clenched her grip on her papers. Stage one she repeated internally,
have snagged big player, desperately want success, and need to
manage Crawford. He is going to make me a success. She was excited
but scared, confident but wary.

Chapter
Four

Dermot O’Rourke
manoeuvred his Volvo estate into the outside lane on the N7. The
early mists of dawn were giving way to daylight and Dermot was
enjoying the drive. The rolling prosperous countryside stretched
around him, consisting mainly of large farms with full fields and
Stud Farms with horses, Kildare was horse country.

The car pulled
into the Mushroom Plant.

The driveway to
the Plant was lined with rose trees, not yet in bloom, set off with
daffodils and crocus. They smelt nice in the morning air. However
Dermot knew that the horse manure pile was regularly turned over as
it was organic and it was necessary to save it from heating up.
Usually in the mid morning, at which time the entire area would
stink of fresh manure. Dermot’s intention was to be in and out of
the Plant before that happened.

Dermot was
annoyed to find Peter was not in yet.

Dermot was left
cooling his heels. Impatiently he took over Peter’s office so as to
have the use of the phone. Sylvia, Peter’s secretary knew Dermot of
old and made no objection. Dermot had other appointments and people
to talk to. He got busy on the phone.

Peter arrived
just before half nine.

“Yo! Dermot,”
he said nonchalantly.

“Peter you
little scut,” Dermot stormed, “you were to be here to meet me. I
have a busy schedule.”

“Sorry Dermot,”
he replied with a grin, “slight industrial relations problem held
me up. One of the pickers, had to spend some time with her.”

“Who?”

“Oh, just one
of the girls.”

“Which
one?”

“Jenny
Doyle.”

“I think I know
her father.”

“That’s right.
I forgot that you come from around these parts.”

“He is a tough
man Peter. If you knock up his daughter he’ll geld you. They say he
is the best pig-gelder in the County. Uses a very sharp knife.”

Peter gave an
uneasy grin. “Don’t worry it was just a local issue.”

“What can I do
for you?” he added, changing the subject.

“I need to talk
to you.”

“Sylvia,” Peter
shouted. “Bring us in some coffee and biscuits. Or would you prefer
tea Dermot?”

“Tea.”

“A coffee and a
tea,” Peter shouted.

There was a
noise from the outer office as Sylvia busied herself, wordlessly,
with the kettle.

“How are things
in the Plant?” Dermot asked.

“Lazy bitches.
The pickings have fallen off dramatically. We were short on the
last load to Liverpool.”

“That can’t be
good for business. Are the pickers upset? It must be costing them
money.”

“Not upset that
I am aware of. Of course it costs them money, they are paid on an
output basis,” Peter said spiritedly.

“As long as you
are happy there is nothing in the wind?”

“I’m happy, but
not with that man Paddy, the Supervisor.”

“Your assistant
manager.”

“Yes, he seems
dour and does not show respect. I think I’ll replace him.”

“He has been
here man and boy this thirty years,” Dermot protested. “He is the
best there is.”

“Don’t like
him. I think I’ll fire him, that will buck the place up.”

Dermot sighed.
“Peter, don’t get us sued for wrongful dismissal.”

“Oh I’d be
careful. I’m quite smart when I want to be.”

Dermot sat back
and looked at his man. Peter was in his mid twenties. Dressed in an
expensive designer suit he was very much the yuppie young man about
the town. Not a good fit for a manure and mushroom heap in Kildare,
even if it was, or used to be before he came, a very profitable
manure heap.

“Go easy on
Paddy,” Dermot instructed, “I don’t want him fired.
Understood?”

“No.”

“You will in a
minute Peter. Paddy has an important part in your future.”

“How could he
possibly have?” Peter demanded indignantly.

“From two
points of view,” Dermot said with a tight smile. “First he might
get annoyed if you fire him. Don’t test a dangerous man Peter.
Paddy has a young family and a lot of local commitments. Throw him
out and he will hit back. This is not the big city.”

“You don’t
expect me to believe that nonsense. You said two points of view.
Why else should I keep him?”

“Because, if in
your judgment, Paddy can do your job, then I can arrange a
promotion for you out of this place up to Dublin and the holding
company.”

This was a
dream. Peter sat down. Out of the mushroom plant. He could hardly
believe his ears. He sat silent and Dermot waited until Sylvia had
gone in and out leaving the tea and coffee.

“I’ve been
talking to your father,” Dermot continued when they were alone
again. “Someday your father will want to step down. We have to do
succession planning.”

“
What about Dorothy? Surely she will object to me coming on
board. She thinks she’ll end up succeeding Dad. She will shoot it
down. She wants me to rot down here.”

“Relax. Your
Dad will square Dorothy. Don’t let her bother you. We men have to
stick together.”

Peter
smiled.

“But don’t tell
her I said that,” Dermot added urgently.

“Don’t
worry.”

Dermot sat
back. “Well that’s that. Talk to your Dad on Sunday. Take a week to
clear the decks and then we announce the changes and you start in
Dublin you can start on Monday week.”

“Fab.”

“We have a new
Finance Director starting on next Monday. He reports to Dorothy and
she is re-titled Development Director.”

“Oh?” Peter was
stunned.

“Yes, he is a
former Partner in one of the big Accountancy firms. Your Dad needs
him to give the Executive Committee a bit of class. We plan to go
public some day.”

“He better not
get smart with me. I don’t go for Accountants. I’ve had enough with
Dorothy.”

“Don’t worry.
Just try to get on with him. He has an important part in your Dad’s
plans.”

As Dermot got
into his car he felt pleased. Office politics, he felt he’d got his
office politics just right.

Chapter
five

Ann-Marie sat
in the morning room munching her breakfast in silent fury. For her
the issue of her date with Seamus had become a major matter of
principle.

She’d had great
fun on the previous Saturday at the hunt ball. At the ball a dishy
bloke, one of Ashton Smith’s Gormonstown set called Paul, had
manoeuvred her into the conservatory and tried to steal a kiss
behind Ashton’s back. With a giggle she had obliged. Later he had
whispered that he would like to give her a call.

“I’m free
Wednesday,” she had whispered and given him her phone number.

Later she’d
remembered that Wednesday was the night she had a date with Seamus,
the biker she’d met at the St. Patrick’s Day Parade.

Ann-Marie had a
delicious time teasing herself with who she would or would not
stand up. She imagined them both in leathers like Seamus. She
imagined them both in dress suits like Paul. She imagined, for a
delicious blushing moment, what they would be like naked in her
bedroom. Seamus was ahead but the issue was undecided. So she was
still going over the whole thing again and again.

Until of course
her Mother, over Sunday lunch, had repeated the whole story of
their encounter with Seamus at the Parade and made a joke of it.
Her father was furious.

“My daughter a
pick up,” he’d stormed, glaring at her, “And also, Ann-Marie, I am
disappointed.”

“Disappointed?”
she said trying to control her hostility.

“Yes think of
the poor boy. I say poor advisedly. Are you not toying with him
with his feelings?”

“No more than
he is with me.”

“I don’t want
you to see him,” her father said firmly.

That did it.
Ann-Marie knew she was going to date Seamus if she had to walk
through fire to do it.

Ann-Marie put
down her knife and fork and opened her mouth to speak.

Mother, sensing
disaster but feeling powerless to prevent it, drew on her
‘Parenting Course’ training.

“Dorothy,” she
said sweetly before Ann-Marie could open her mouth. “What do you
advise?” she asked, looking to Dorothy as Ann-Marie’s older sister
to support her parents in the matter.

Then came the
astounding news. Dorothy had met a man.

“His name is
Jeremy, he’s over from London on business.”

Dorothy was in
generous mood and wanted to show off her beau. She also knew
Ann-Marie well enough to understand that there going to be a major
blow out with her parents. So when she made the offer to chaperone
Ann-Marie with a double date on the Wednesday everyone just
agreed.

The offer
practically stopped the conversation. Dorothy looked like the cat
that had got the cream. Now in the breakfast room a terrible
thought struck Ann-Marie. What if Seamus stood her up? After all
the fuss, if she was stood up while she was with Dorothy and her
man friend! Ann-Marie shuddered with embarrassment at the thought.
Now the date with Seamus was all-important.

Chapter
six

Janet sipped
her cappuccino and watched the passing throng. It was amazing, here
she was parachuted into Dublin, Capital city of Ireland and here
were throngs of people happily leading their own lives without and
connectivity to her whatsoever. This always fascinated her no
matter what city she visited.

Janet was
sitting at the first floor window of the mezzanine in Bewley’s café
in Grafton Street, Dublin’s premier shopping and fashion street.
From there she could see all the movements up and down on the
‘pedestrianised’ street.

That morning
she had heard a song on Irish Radio, the words stayed in her
mind

‘Dublin can be
heaven

With coffee at
eleven,

And a stroll in
Stephen’s Green.

Grafton
Street’s a wonderland

There’s magic
in the air…’

So she strolled
through the beautiful gardens in St. Stephen’s Green on what was a
beautiful sunny day. Janet was delighted with Dublin. She liked a
small city and she sensed the buzz. Dublin was lively. There were
lots of young people and signs of prosperity.

Janet had been
pleasantly surprised to see a hoarding on her walk down Grafton
street with fly posters announcing the imminent arrival of ‘Jeremy
and David’, one of the premier international fashion houses with
boutiques around the world and stores in London and Paris.

Over breakfast
she had read through the Irish Times, the local prestige newspaper.
She was further pleased to read that following the recent
government elections, the Green Party were to go into a coalition
government, promising stability, but also amongst the ‘programme
for government’ there was a clause that promised to raise Organic
farm production for one percent to five percent of farm output.
Janet kept the page so she could copy it to Crawford.

The bank at the
bottom of Grafton Street had received a draft for fifty thousand as
promised by Crawford. To celebrate she’d dropped into Brown Thomas,
Dublin’s premier Department store and fashion shop. They had all
the brands from Gucci to Armani plus local fashion houses as well
as those from Paris and New York.

Her feet were
sore but her heart was glad. She’d bought a ravishing evening
dress, now all she needed was an occasion to wear it.

In the
afternoon she had an appointment to go see a penthouse apartment in
Ballsbridge, one of the most fashionable parts of town. With luck
it would suit her, it sounded just right and Crawford’s fighting
fund would be her source for the deposit and the rent.

When she was
set up she would ring Crawford and tell him she had established a
bridgehead. Then she would invite him over to Dublin.

Janet paused
and sipped her coffee. If she brought Crawford to Dublin he’d get
excited, not about the takeover, but about her. She would need a
plan to handle him.

Janet perused
the Irish Independent as she sipped her coffee. She felt relaxed
and in charge. But she wanted to read herself in on the local scene
and was working her way through the local morning newspapers. Then
she saw it, a small article at the foot of the financial page.
There was an announcement about two new appointments to the Board
of O’Byrnes. For a moment she was startled, clearly their target
company was positioning for further growth.

The article
included an interview with Michael O’Byrne, the Managing Director.
He spoke of hopes of going public at a future date and also of the
appointment of a new Financial Director, a John O’Malley, recruited
from a large Accounting firm, with expertise in Computer systems to
the Board of O’Byrnes.

Also mentioned
was the promotion of Peter O’Byrne, Michael’s son and heir, to a
role on the expanded Board involving quality customer care. The
photo of the two appointees appeared at the bottom of the article.
Janet drew a circle around the young and hopeful face of Peter. She
had found her mark.

The mention of
‘quality customer care’ in the article got her brain going. Quality
and Peter, how could she leverage his inexperience?