Empire of Gold_A Novel

  She lowered her head. “It was just a stupid argument. I loved them. But …” She looked up at him, tears glistening in the corners of her eyes. “I can’t change the past, I can’t bring them back. But I would give anything to have been able to apologize to them before they left. I’m not saying you’ve got anything to apologize for, but if you’ve got a chance to settle your differences you should take it. If this is the last time you ever see him, do you really want it to be like this?”

  After a long pause, Eddie blew out a frustrated breath. “All right. We’ll go for dinner,” he said, reluctance clear in every word. “But I’m only doing it for you, okay? Not for Lizzie, and definitely not for him.”

  She wiped her eyes and smiled. “Thanks. But you’re not only doing it for me—you’re doing it for yourself too.”

  He squeezed her hand, then started the car. “Well, whoever I’m doing it for, let’s hope it’s not a huge fucking mistake.”

  THREE

  Larry Chase’s home was not in Bournemouth, but farther east along the coast, about nine miles from the busy port of Southampton. “Wow,” said Nina as the Mondeo pulled up. “Your dad’s place is huge.” It was an old red-brick farmhouse, but one that had been extensively renovated, surrounded by a couple of acres of lush grounds. A brand-new silver Jaguar XKR sports coupé was parked outside, an open double garage revealing a black Range Rover and a lipstick-red Mazda MX-5 roadster within. “He must be doing well for himself.”

  “Making a few quid was never one of his problems,” Eddie said. “How he makes it … that’s another story.” He got out of the car before she could ask him to elaborate.

  Nina had made an effort to dress up, wearing a skirt and a pair of high heels. Eddie, however, was in his usual jeans, T-shirt, and black leather jacket, not even having bothered to shave. He trudged to the front door and rang the bell as Nina joined him.

  Larry opened the door. “Hello, welcome!” he proclaimed. “Come inside. Here, let me.” He took Nina’s jacket as she entered and hung it in a small closet before turning to his son, but Eddie had already removed his own jacket and pointedly placed it on top of Nina’s. “I’m glad you’re both here. Elizabeth’s been on at me for ages to get in touch with you.” He became more somber. “I just wish it hadn’t taken your grandmother giving us all such a scare for it to happen.”

  “Yeah, me too,” Eddie said flatly.

  “But,” Larry went on, brightening again, “it’s still an opportunity for us to bury the hatchet, I hope. Twenty-two years—it’s a long time. Too long, wouldn’t you say?”

  “Yes, I would,” said Nina when Eddie showed no sign of answering.

  “So would I. Anyway, come and meet my wife. Julie! Company’s here!”

  A pretty blond woman entered the hall, the heels of her black leather boots clacking on the polished tiles. “Hi, how are you?” she said enthusiastically, kissing Nina on the cheek before doing the same to Eddie, to his discomfiture.

  “This is my wife, Julie,” said Larry, putting an arm around her shoulders. “Julie, I’d like you meet my son Eddie, and his wife, Nina.”

  “So, when did you get remarried?” Eddie asked, tone more accusing than interested.

  “Two years ago,” Julie told him.

  “Surprised Elizabeth didn’t tell you,” Larry added.

  Eddie smiled, with no warmth. “I didn’t ask her.” He regarded the blonde, who was wearing a tight, low-cut satin dress in a vivid electric blue, as well as a plenitude of gold jewelry. “So, Julie. How old are you?”

  “Ah, come on, Eddie,” said Nina, trying to keep things light. “You know you shouldn’t ask a lady her age.” Admittedly, she was curious herself. Julie was considerably younger than her husband.

  Julie flapped a hand, bracelets tinkling. “Oh, I don’t mind. I’m thirty-six.”

  “Thirty-six?” Eddie exclaimed.

  “I know, it’s a bit of an age gap. But that doesn’t matter when you love each other, does it?” She rested her head on Larry’s shoulder.

  Eddie was still dismayed. “You’re younger than me!”

  “Yes, I know—when Larry told me about you I thought it might be a bit weird, me being your stepmother. But if you want you can think of me as more like a stepsister!”

  Eddie’s silence and fixed expression told her exactly how well her joke had been received. “So,” said Larry after a moment, “Julie, why don’t you sort us out some drinks? I’ll show Nina and Eddie around the house.” Julie gave her guests a hesitant smile, then clicked back down the hall.

  Larry went to a flight of stairs. “Come on, we’ll do upstairs first.” He started up.

  “Half his age plus seven years,” Eddie muttered to Nina as they followed.

  “What?”

  “That’s the rule, remember? For how old a woman has to be to stop the bloke from being a creepy old pervert.”

  “So?”

  “He’s sixty. You’re the mental arithmetic genius, work it out.”

  Nina sighed. It was already obvious that the evening was not going to be a roaring success; the best result would simply be getting through it without a fistfight.

  The house’s interior was impressive, expensive … and decidedly masculine. If there were any rooms where Julie had been given free rein to apply a feminine touch, Larry opted not to include them in the tour. Instead, he showed off those parts he considered most important: a well-equipped gym; a sauna; a home cinema with a floor-shaking sound system and practically a whole wall of DVDs and Blu-rays, Nina awarding him a few approving brownie points when she noticed that the collection included the complete works of Monty Python. Slightly to her surprise, a large attic was filled by a model railway. It wasn’t a hobby she would have expected of such an obvious Type-A personality, but as Larry explained, “I’ve had model railways since I was a kid. That way, I know there’s at least one place where the trains run on time.”

  “Yeah, you always did like being in control, didn’t you?” said Eddie. He tweaked a dial, and a train jerked into motion.

  “Do you mind?” Larry snapped.

  “What? I’m not going to break it.”

  “It wouldn’t be the first time.” He flicked a master switch to turn off the power.

  Eddie shook his head. “Christ, I crash a toy train once as a kid, and I’m banned for life.”

  “They’re not toys,” his father said with irritation.

  “It’s really amazing,” Nina cut in, hoping to forestall an argument. She examined one of the little buildings, a replica of an English country pub. “And it’s so detailed!”

  “Detail is everything,” said Larry. “If you want to be successful, you need to cover every last detail, whether you’re doing something yourself or delegating. Like this.” He swept a hand over the layout. “I don’t have the time to make everything myself, but I always make sure that when someone else works for me, they know exactly what I expect from them.”

  “You paid someone to make this for you?” Eddie said scathingly. “Where’s the fun in that? You might as well hire someone to stand here and drive the trains.”

  To Nina’s relief, a call came that dinner was almost ready, and they trooped downstairs. Drinks were served, then the meal began. With the addition of the chirpy Julie to the mix, the conversation became less tense. However, halfway through the main course of beef carpaccio with marinated salad, Nina realized she would have to be the designated driver as Eddie, keeping pace with his father, poured himself a third glass of wine. Not even having finished her first glass, she switched to water. “I’m no expert on the linguistic ins and outs of England,” she said to Larry, “but I can tell you don’t have the same accent as Eddie. Are you not from Yorkshire originally?”

  “Oh, no,” he replied. “I’m from Bucks.” Nina gave him a blank look. “Buckinghamshire, in the Home Counties. The rich parts around London,” he clarified. “I used to spend a lot of time traveling between the ports at Liverpool and Hull for work, and the M62,
the motorway between them, was just being finished. So I picked somewhere to live that was right in the middle. Same reason I moved down here, actually. A lot of my work goes through Southampton, so it made sense to be near the port. Turned out well in both cases. I met Julie down here—she used to be my secretary—and met my first wife in Yorkshire.”

  “You mean Mum,” Eddie rumbled.

  “What is your work?” Nina asked quickly. “Eddie said it was something to do with shipping.” His actual words had been “shipping, or some bollocks,” but she kept that to herself.

  Larry gestured at a shelf. “Julie, there are some of my cards on there—can you get one for Nina?” Julie stood and retrieved one, and handed it to Nina.

  “Thanks,” Nina said. A stark, modern logo in deep blue stood out at the card’s top above the company name. “Chase International Logistics?”

  “That’s right,” said Larry with a smug smile. “I left the old firm ten years ago and went into business for myself. And it’s worked out rather well.”

  “So what does international logistics entail?” Not wanting to seem rude by discarding it, she slipped the card into her breast pocket.

  “Getting things from where they are to where they’re wanted as quickly as possible with the minimum of hassle. Including from officials. I go all over the world, getting to know the right people. A word in someone’s ear can mean the difference between a package being held up by red tape for a week or clearing customs in an hour.”

  Eddie took another chug of wine. “And it’s all totally legal, obviously.” His voice was full of sarcasm.

  “Everything’s aboveboard, if that’s what you’re implying,” said Larry, frowning.

  “Well, yeah. After that time you got investigated by Customs and Excise, I suppose you’d want to make sure all the paperwork’s in order.”

  Nina and Julie exchanged awkward looks as Larry stabbed his fork into his last piece of beef. “That was just a random audit. They do hundreds of them every year.” He put the meat in his mouth and chewed on it ferociously.

  “But they don’t normally come round to people’s houses and take all their files away, do they?” It was Eddie’s turn to look smug.

  Mouth full, Larry couldn’t reply, but from his scowl it was clear he was planning a retaliatory shot. “So, everyone finished?” Julie said hurriedly. “Larry, love, can you help me put the plates in the dishwasher?”

  Once they had gone, Nina put her head in her hands. “God, Eddie.”

  “What?” he said, shrugging innocently. “Just being nostalgic.”

  “Can you be less aggressively nostalgic? Please?”

  Dessert was served, baked peaches stuffed with mascarpone and almonds, both Eddie and Larry washing it down with more wine. Nina was grateful to Julie for steering the conversation away from anything that might spark another bout of sniping between father and son. “It sounds like you have an amazing life,” she said to the archaeologist. “One great big adventure!”

  “It’s not all adventure,” Nina assured her. “I spend more time than I’d like in an office. But we’re doing some fieldwork at Glastonbury tomorrow, in King Arthur’s tomb.”

  “Wow. And archaeology’s how you met Eddie?”

  “Yes—he’d been hired as my bodyguard. He’s kept me safe from the bad guys since then.” She smiled and put a hand on his arm.

  “That’s really romantic,” said Julie, ignoring Larry’s faint but dismissive huff. “And exciting too. Eddie, how many bad guys have you had to deal with?”

  “Oh, a fair few,” said Eddie, for the first time that evening giving an answer without any snarky undertones. “But I used to be in the SAS, so I can handle myself.” Julie was highly impressed by the revelation, deepening Larry’s irritation. “A punch in the face usually sorts ’em out.”

  “Well, that’s one thing you were always good at as a kid,” said Larry loudly as he took another drink. “Hitting people, I mean. What was the name of that boy you used to bully? Peter something—Peter Clackett, that was it. I remember when his parents came round to complain about you beating him up.”

  “Larry …,” Julie implored.

  But he was on a roll. “Of course, it was the police who started coming round when you got older. Still,” he continued, addressing Nina, “I’m glad he’s finally put his, ah, talent to constructive use.”

  “Well, personally, Larry,” said Nina defensively, “I think Eddie’s a fantastic man, and I wouldn’t change a thing about him.” That wasn’t entirely true, but she hoped it would divert the discussion down a less argumentative path. Though in truth she was startled to hear that her husband had been a bully as a child—and that he had made no attempt to deny it.

  “Thanks, love,” said Eddie, to her relief sounding cheery rather than angry. He ate a piece of peach, following it with more wine, then said, “Mind you, I might have turned out better as a kid if I’d had a good role model. Not someone who was hardly ever there ’cause he was off giving backhanders to crooked customs men and shagging other women behind his wife’s back.”

  Larry banged down his spoon. “Oh, God,” Nina moaned under her breath.

  “But after I left home,” Eddie went on, “the army knocked some sense into me, so I turned out okay in the end. You know, serving my country, saving lives …”

  “Marrying terrorists,” said Larry, turning to Julie. “Did you know his first wife was Sophia Blackwood—the woman who tried to blow up New York?” Julie was too embarrassed to reply.

  “Still, I managed not to cheat on her,” Eddie snapped. A sarcastic sneer. “So, what contributions to humanity have you been making for the last twenty years? Bit of this, bit of that, makin’ deals … playing with your toy trains.”

  “Maybe I should have been around more,” Larry growled. “I would have knocked some respect into you.”

  “Oh, you would, would you?” said Eddie, challenging. “Big man, hitting his kid, eh?”

  “I certainly wouldn’t have let you run riot like your mother did.”

  Eddie jumped up, jolting the table and knocking over his wineglass as he jabbed a finger at his father. “Don’t you fucking dare criticize Mum! Not after what you did to her.”

  Larry also sprang to his feet. “Don’t you swear at me in my own house!”

  “Why, what’re you gonna do? Spank me? Or maybe you’re going to knock some respect into me. Come on, give it a try!”

  Both wives stood too, trying to calm their husbands. “Eddie, Eddie, come on,” said Nina. “We should probably get moving, huh? It’s getting late.”

  “Suits me fine,” said Eddie. “Thanks for dinner, Julie. We’ll see ourselves out.” He stormed from the room.

  Nina shot Larry a disgusted look—he had, after all, been just as responsible as Eddie for the evening’s unpleasant turn—before facing his wife. “I’m sorry, Julie.”

  “So am I,” she replied, equally apologetic. “I hope the rest of your stay is … better.”

  “Me too. Bye.” With a sigh, she followed Eddie, who had already donned his leather jacket and was waiting at the door. “What the hell was that?” she hissed as she collected her own jacket. “You couldn’t stay civil for two hours?”

  Eddie walked out. “What? He bloody started it.”

  “You were each as bad as the other,” she said, catching up. “Yes, he was acting like an ass, but you didn’t have to do the same!”

  “I didn’t want to fucking come at all, remember? The whole thing’s your fault for dragging me here.”

  “Oh, right, blame me! That’s really goddamn mature, Eddie.” They reached the car, Eddie heading for the driver’s side. “What are you doing?”

  “Getting in the car, what does it look like?”

  “You’re not driving, not after all that wine.”

  He slapped the key on the roof with a clang. “Whatever, fucking fine. Maybe I’ll walk back instead.”

  “Don’t tempt me,” said Nina, tight-lipped. She took the k
ey and unlocked the Mondeo.

  Eddie dropped heavily into the passenger seat and slammed his door. “Well, if you’re so fucking embarrassed to be seen with me, I’ll save you any social humiliation and not go to Glastonbury tomorrow. You can find your own bloody way there. I’ll spend the day with Nan, like I promised. At least I know there’s one member of my family who appreciates me.”

  “Fine. What-ever.” Teeth clenched, Nina started the engine and, over-revving, powered down the drive.

  FOUR

  Eddie departed the hotel the next morning without breakfast or even a word, leaving Nina in a bad mood. She was still mad at him—and Larry—for their sheer childishness.

  Her outfit from the previous night was on a chair; she folded the skirt and blouse to return them to her suitcase. The creased business card dropped to the floor. She glowered at it, then found her wallet and slipped it inside. Among the phone numbers was Larry’s home; though she had no particular desire to talk to him, she might still want to speak to Julie, if only to apologize again.

  But for now she had work to do. Though she had spoken to the trustees of Glastonbury Tor from New York, the hastiness of the arrangements meant she wanted to check that all was in order before setting out. She started making calls.

  Half an hour later, everything was confirmed. Nina tied her hair back in a ponytail and was gathering her belongings when her phone rang. Eddie? No, Macy. “Hello?”

  “Hi, Nina!” From the background noise, Macy was apparently in a car, and going at considerable speed.

  “Hey, Macy. Where are you?”

  “On the freeway. M3, I think it’s called. I’m on my way to you.”