Chapter 2. Forster's Fortunes
Alexander Forster never fully recovered from his wife's death, although the marriage had been in no way a fairy-tale union, more a companionable arrangement between friends. Alex himself distrusted emotional entanglements and had remained unattached long after most of his contemporaries had formally paired up, several on the second time around. Anne Broadbent was a serious girl who had come through bitter experience to a rather similar attitude, although she secretly hankered after a touch of genuine romance and suffered spells of deep depression over the lack of it. Her parents had reluctantly concluded that she would probably be on their hands, problems and all, for the rest of their lives; it was not a situation they liked, but better than having her attached to any one of the wastrels who had shown an almost certainly spurious amorous interest.
Cyrus, founding chairman of Broadbent Holdings Inc., had in 1952 noticed Alex as a rising star among employees taken on after World War II and was anxious not to lose his services, especially to any rival organisation. He first invited Alex to meet the family simply to add a little social cement to the connection, although it was gratifying to see him apparently finding Anne a congenial conversational partner. Connie, his wife, immediately saw more possibilities, or more likely imagined them, and Cyrus felt compelled to warn her against pushing the two together prematurely. The likely effect of another disappointment on Anne's already shaky mental stability was something he dared not risk. Nevertheless, when a year later there had been no sign of any developments beyond the purely social, he himself ventured to hint that a son-in-law would be a not unwelcome addition to the family: friendliness, consideration and conscientious attention to duty might be less than Anne wanted, but much more reliable than rapturous infatuation.
Alex had not seriously considered the possibility, but when he did, recognised the practical benefits of a comfortable home, a compatible house-mate and a more securely-based position in the business. Anne's brothers, Ernest and Conrad, took a rather different view. Although Cyrus had given them good positions in the corporation, he could not altogether hide his disappointment with their performance, nor they their frustration at the lack of further advancement. A cuckoo in the nest was decidedly unwelcome.
To Ernest, the elder, it was a tolerable irritation since he recognised his own limitations and was content to work within them rather than make possibly expensive mistakes, an attitude that in the circumstances Cyrus reluctantly accepted as probably the course of wisdom. However, Ernest's wife, Sylvia, was more ambitious and made no secret of objecting to the preference given to the younger brother. She had a point since Conrad was not really so very much more talented, merely less free from illusions about his own ability. He especially resented Alex's favoured position, although for his own sake and simply in the hope of a favourable opportunity for satisfying them later, he kept his feelings about the intruder mostly to himself; his time would come, he believed.
For Alex, the marriage was a vast advance on his origins. Born in 1925 in one of the poorer areas of Idaho Falls, by hard work and innate intelligence he had worked his way upward under the strenuous urging of his formidable widowed mother, who had deliberately named him after the Macedonian conqueror and regularly made it clear that she expected great things of him. She was a devout member of a religious sect that saw no conflict between the worship of God and the enthusiastic service of Mammon so long as both were completely honest. After her death in 1949 the deity did not feature largely or often in his thoughts, but honesty had become not so much a virtue as a habit. His reputation for integrity served him well in his work, although it came with the penalty of torment whenever he recognised the occasional slip, however inadvertent it might be. It was not conscience, he simply could not bear to see himself in the wrong. Moreover, honesty of course included justice to himself, and he could drive as hard a bargain as anyone, but fulfilling his obligations under it was then a point of honour.
He now had greater material comfort than he had ever known before, though in view of Anne's temperament, whether he would have much emotional comfort from her was the subject of much speculation among their acquaintance. There was indeed some friction in the routine business of living together during the early months, but on the whole they worked through it well enough. In time they grew quite affectionate in an undemonstrative kind of way, very much more so than anyone had believed likely. It probably helped that neither had ever expected anything more passionate in the relationship.
One outstanding irritation, however, was over money. There was no shortage for ordinary purposes, far from it, but Alex occasionally wanted more for some particular venture than came readily to hand, and Anne had control of it. Cyrus was no fool and had seen many apparently more promising unions go disastrously wrong, so in giving the couple a very substantial nest-egg as a wedding present he had made quite certain that it was held in her name and that Alex would not be able to draw on it without her approval. Alex was slightly miffed but saw the point; he often wished, however, that Anne would treat it less like a dragon's hoard, and sometimes had to bite his tongue when he was tempted to voice the comparison.
To be fair, she had reasons for a cautious approach to its management. Although as a rule Alex was remarkably astute in his investments, she knew that they did occasionally go wrong. So of course did he, and took such contretemps in his stride, believing that he held a sensible balance between risk and opportunity; Anne however would not stand for any threat to the security of her dowry. Time and time again Alex pointed out that risk is inseparable from the human condition, and Anne admitted the point in principle but would still not countenance any but the most conservative investments imaginable. If Alex wanted to chance any of his own money that was not needed just then for more serious purposes, fine, but he wasn't getting his hands on hers.
Another, more personal, cause for Alex's concern was related to her continued difficulty in making or keeping real friends. Her amatory history, if it could be so called, had shown her all too clearly that the family's wealth made it hard to distinguish between real friends and parasites, actual or aspiring. The number of pirates that Cyrus had successfully repelled, two especially painful episodes in particular, moved Anne to cynicism about other more genuine acquaintances. It made for coolness on both sides, and however much she pretended not to mind the shallow nature of her contacts, she felt the lack of genuine affection in them more than she would admit even to herself, and the bouts of depression became deeper and more frequent.
In time she drifted back towards the bottled friendship that had given false comfort in her spinsterhood until she had recognised the danger and sought help to abandon it. The relapse that came some years into the marriage still fell short of alcoholism, and Alex was chary of criticising in case it might make matters worse. Cyrus, privately consulted, agreed. Connie, hoping for grandchildren that neither of her sons had so far provided, thought that they might ease the situation, but after two miscarriages medical opinion was that for all practical purposes the chances were negligible.
Nevertheless the marriage survived, so much better than might have been expected that after ten years Alex thought a special celebration was in order. Anne had long fancied a visit to Europe, and he decided that a fortnight away from work could be spared, so they arranged a tour briefly visiting France, Germany, Austria, Italy and finally England. After a quick round of the capital they fancied seeing something of the more traditional Old England, or whatever might remain of it in the mid-1960s, and booked into an Oxfordshire village hotel. That evening Anne was as usual taking much longer than Alex to prepare for dinner, so he left her to it saying he would see her in the bar. What he did not say was that although he was unlikely to prevent her from drinking too much, if nothing else he could keep a rough tally on her intake.
As he was ordering for himself, another American at the bar noticed his accent and commented on it, asking if he was alone.
"No, but my wife's still
dressing."
"Oh, she'll be an age yet." Alex had to admit that it was all too likely, and his new acquaintance pressed him meanwhile to join a party celebrating a success at the university. Alex was reluctant to intrude, but the other, already fairly well lubricated, insisted that he couldn't leave a fellow-countryman out in the cold and practically dragged him to the table. Alex found this embarrassing, but the welcome from the rest of the party seemed genuinely friendly, and after introductions he asked what it was they were celebrating. The answer was way above his head, but he gathered that it was something to do with magnetic resonance, whatever that might be.
One of the party, who was getting some chaff from the rest for sticking resolutely to fruit juice and might therefore be supposed to have his feet still firmly planted on the ground, explained that it was a breakthrough that could have enormous technical and possibly commercial implications if the early indications were maintained and it was properly exploited. There was a problem, however, in the second part of the "If"; capital in the amounts likely to be needed was hard to find. Alex asked how much, and agreed that it was a tall order, but added that it was not impossible. In fact it might be ... At that point Anne appeared and Alex had to excuse himself, but took a moment to exchange business cards.
The next day they spent mostly in looking around the university buildings, and Anne had devised a route that covered her "must see" list in the most efficient manner possible, but a sudden downpour caught them unprepared in the open and ruined her hair-do. She insisted that it had to be repaired as soon as a tolerable hairdresser could be found. The best way to find one seemed to be in a trade directory, so once the shower had passed they looked for a telephone box. None had the Yellow Pages, so Alex bought a book in Blackwells and asked if he might consult theirs.
"Is it a local call, Sir?"
"Yes - at least I hope so."
"Then go ahead, with our compliments."
"It may take several attempts, I'm afraid."
"I dare say we could stand up to half a dozen." In the event three were needed before he located a salon willing and able to deal with the emergency, and that had to be later that afternoon. It would take about an hour, so Alex made another call. It was a long shot, but Bob Rothwell, his contact of the previous evening, happened to be available and would be glad to spare part of that time to give him an outline of his project. Alex thanked the helpful assistant profusely, spotted another book he was ready to buy, and both were happy. Anne however was greatly annoyed at having her carefully-arranged schedule disrupted and remained in an irritable mood for the rest of the day.
The session with Rothwell was brief but very interesting. Alex would obviously need a lot more information than could be garnered on such an occasion before deciding whether it offered a serious prospect of being a good investment, but he was sufficiently impressed by what he was shown to ask for more and promised to give it careful consideration.
"Supposing I'm still interested, and can organise the necessary funds, how soon will you need an answer?"
"There's no desperate hurry. We've a lot more to do before we're anywhere near going commercial."
"Six months?"
"Probably more like a year, maybe two, quite easily a good deal longer. Unexpected snags are always liable to arise in this kind of work. It's not like building a factory where any difficulties to be met are usually of a more or less familiar kind."
The sum required was actually more than Alex could spare from his own resources, and if he was to go any further he would need Anne's co-operation. On past experience it would be hard to get, but worth the attempt. He thought it best to wait until after her second drink that evening before broaching the subject. She took longer than usual to come down, and in bracing himself beforehand he took an amount of Dutch courage that he afterwards regretted.
When she did appear, Alex thought she seemed a little unsteady and wondered if she too had primed her system already, but kept the thought to himself and instead indulged her in a little game she often liked to play, speculating on the relationships and circumstances of other diners around them. Depending on their mood at the time, the suggestions might sometimes become scandalously fantastic, and he often wondered how close even their more sober imaginings came to the actual prevalence of adultery.
On that particular evening, when her interest in the game eventually flagged, he remarked as an opening gambit, "That guy I was talking to last night ..."
"Which one?"
"The one with the heavy spectacles and sideburns."
"What about him?" He wondered why her expression suddenly darkened, and in a more cautious mood might have dropped the subject for the time being, but as it was he felt committed and had to go on.
"He had an interesting project going, and while you were at the hairdressers I went to see him again."
"Oh, yes?"
"Of course there was nothing like enough time to go into it properly, but I got a feeling that it's definitely worth looking at more closely as a possible investment."
"Well then, go ahead and look at it. What's to stop you?"
"Nothing to stop me just looking. But if I decide it's worth taking an actual stake in it, he needs more capital than I can spare at the moment."
"How about going in jointly with anyone else?"
"Apparently all the usual sources have turned him down flat."
"Well, that's it, then. They must have their reasons. Why go on with it? Do you imagine you know something that they don't?"
"No, but I've a gut feeling ... Would you consider putting in say ..."
"If you think I'm going to risk a dime on a ploy like that, just on the evidence of your digestive system, you've another think coming. Forget it!"
It was the reaction he should have expected, but was not in a mood to leave it there. "Why not? Why throw it out like a bad potato?"
"I've seen that face before."
"You mean you know him already?"
"Not him personally. But that was the face on one of those skunks that tried to sweet-talk me into marriage when all he wanted was my money."
"Come on, Anne. You can't judge a man by his face - condemn him just because he reminds you of someone who tried to cheat you."
"Oh yes I can. Who's to stop me?"
Despite knowing that he ought to have left it there for the time being, he could not stop himself from going on. "Anne, that's no better than my gut feeling. You're being totally irrational."
"Irrational, am I? Was it irrational when I warned you about the Templeton business? Or Collinsons? You lost a packet on both of those."
"Just two out of dozens that turned up trumps. I've never claimed to be infallible - just right as a rule. Can't you trust me to be careful?"
"Frankly, no. This could easily be the odd one out of the next dozen."
Alex's alcohol-weakened patience snapped. "Anne, you're going on just like Ernest in one of his obstinate moods."
"Leave Ernest out of this. He's never done you any harm. And he's never come a cropper either."
"Only because he's never backed anything but certainties."
"And what's wrong with that?"
"It means he's missed a lot of good opportunities. Think of Prestons. Think of Walkers. They both made millions after he turned them down and Johnsons went in instead."
"I dare say he had good reasons."
"No, he was just being pig-headed."
That was too much for Anne. "That's enough. Pig-headed, was he? I'm not taking that from an upstart from nowhere."
It was a long time since he had heard that taunt, and coming from Anne it was especially hurtful, but he knew it was the alcohol talking. If she remembered she would probably apologise for it in the morning. "For goodness' sake calm down, Anne. I'm sorry if I offended you. We can talk about it after dinner."
"To hell with dinner. You can eat by yourself - if you can't find any other blood-sucker to join you."
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"Anne, be reasonable. You had hardly anything for lunch - you can't miss dinner as well. You'll make yourself ill."
"I'll get on to room service. You can do what the hell you like." Swallowing the last of her third drink that he knew about, she stormed out of the bar. She must have been disorientated, as instead of heading for the lift she went the other way and stalked out of the front door, which on a balmy evening had been left wide open. Alex heard the braking squeal of the first car and the bang as the second passed the hotel, and rushed out to see what had happened.
He went with Anne to the hospital and, although warned that there was little hope, stayed by her bedside once what could be done had been. He desperately watched for some sign of consciousness, however faint, that might recognise a touch of affection, but none came before the nurse closed Anne's eyes and after a few minutes gently led him away.
It was nearly midnight when he returned to the hotel. The night porter, aware of what had happened, was deeply sympathetic and asked if he could provide some sandwiches. Alex had little appetite, but realised he ought to eat something and accepted; in the event finding that he did welcome them. Going repeatedly over the events was not at all what he wanted to do but he could not stop it, and it kept him awake for hours, but at some stage during the night exhaustion took over and he slept until about eight in the morning.
Everyone was concerned to make things as easy as possible for him The couple who had helped Anne had already checked out by the time he asked about them, so he could not thank them personally, but he did get their address from the register and would write to them. Better still, he would send a more tangible token of his appreciation. He wondered what might be acceptable in British culture, and asked the receptionist for suggestions.
"Hmm. That's a difficult one. I'm sure they wouldn't expect anything. Not cash, certainly."
"No, of course not. Insufferably crass. I was thinking about some kind of permanent memento."
"I rather think they'd prefer to forget. They were terribly shaken up."
"An expression of gratitude, then. You can't forget that sort of thing. To remind them of their kindness, not the accident itself."
"Well, I suppose that might be all right. Now I think of it, Mrs. Crampton did comment on the cutlery in the restaurant and ask about the make. I didn't know, but I could try to find out, if you like." He thought that a very good suggestion.
The return home was inevitably dismal. He dreaded the prospect of facing Anne's family, but it had to be done, and a strictly factual account of the evening's events seemed best. Cyrus and Connie, although stricken by losing their daughter, knew how erratically she could behave at times and accepted it as philosophically as anyone could, but the two brothers made no attempt to hide their belief that Alex was somehow responsible. Since he thought so too, it was not a matter to hold against them. What he did resent, very deeply, was Conrad's "I suppose you'll be looking for another heiress now," and it was all Alex could do to resist smashing him in the face.
The moment or two that it took to control his anger was covered by Connie's "Conrad! What a terrible thing to say! At this time especially. You ought to be ashamed of yourself."
Alex took a deep breath and corrected her. "No, Connie, if that's in his mind it's best out in the open. But Conrad, whatever you may think, and for all the trouble I had with her lately, Anne was very dear to me and I shall cherish her memory for ever. I shan't touch any other woman."
At that, Connie looked duly gratified, but Cyrus took Alex aside and remonstrated with him. "Look, Alex, I dare say that's how you feel just now, and I don't doubt you mean it absolutely, but it's a hell of a tall order. Not many men could stick to it for a year, let alone for life. I know you're strong-minded, more than anyone I can think of, but if you did slip up it would hit you all the harder for that very reason. You are taking this to an extreme, you know."
"Don't worry, Cyrus, I shan't fail. I swear - "
"No, Alex, don't swear. Promise if you must, but don't bring an oath into it. I for one wouldn't blame you over much for an occasional lapse."
So that is how it was left. They re-joined the others, Alex repeated his promise and Conrad, no doubt heavily prompted, gave a rather grudging apology. The two shook hands on it and the subject was never mentioned again.
Nevertheless the tensions within the business remained, with the brothers' long-standing resentment intensified by Conrad's lingering suspicions. They increased to the point where Alex decided in the fall of 1967 that he could no longer remain in the firm, and offered his resignation.
Cyrus was horrified. "What the hell for? Are you not satisfied with the opportunities here?"
"No, Cyrus, that's not it. It's just getting too difficult, working with Ernest and especially Conrad. They've never really accepted my position, you know, and it's getting worse."
"I knew there was a problem, but I hadn't realised it was that bad."
"I didn't like to trouble you."
"Hmm. I suppose they didn't either. I've always tried to keep the peace."
"Yes, I know, and I appreciate it. It's all that's stopped me going before."
"Is it, indeed? Then there's something you ought to know. Connie's been nagging - well, no, that's too strong - she's been trying for years to get me to retire, and she's at last persuaded me. I'm coming up to seventy two - "
"What? I'd have put you at ten years younger."
"No need for flattery, my lad, though it's true I've looked after myself. But I can't go on indefinitely, and I think Connie deserves a few years of full-time attention.. Keep it under your hat for the time being, but I'm planning to retire in December."
"I think that would be the time for me to leave, then. We can announce both together and all the reorganisation can be done in one go."
One thought troubled Cyrus. "I hope you realise, Alex, that you'll always have a welcome in this house as long as Connie and I are around, but perhaps you'd better choose your moment. And it would probably be a good idea to move away from here, though we'll keep a room ready for you whenever you may need it."
"That's very kind of you. You're all the family I've got, and I sure do appreciate it."
Alex had already reached the same conclusion about moving, and looked around for a suitable location to set up his own business. Rexburg was probably too close to avoid competition with his former colleagues, and after scouting various possibilities, he found a suitable niche in Billings, Montana. There was no desperate hurry, and he took a few months over the arrangements. By then Anne's estate had long been settled, with the bulk of it going to him, so he had a good fund of working capital. At the end of his first full day in the new office, remembering the difference in time zones, he made another call to Bob Rothwell.
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