How to Fall in Love (18 page)

‘I heard you whispering:
We’re doing this today
.’ He mocked my previous whisper. ‘Don’t look so surprised, there’s nothing wrong with my hearing. It’s my liver that has me in here, and that’s not even what’s killing me. It’s the cancer – and I think the fucking food will kill me before that does!’ He pushed away his plate. ‘I don’t understand why they won’t just let me out of here to die. I’ve got things to do,’ he raised his voice again as a doctor entered to study his chart. There were two student doctors with her.

‘It looks like you’re doing plenty already,’ the doctor said. ‘The allowed number of guests per room is two.’ She glared at us all as if we were responsible for causing the cancer to grow at such a rapid rate. ‘I thought I told you to rest, Mr Basil.’

‘And I thought I told you to fuck off,’ he said.

There was a long uncomfortable silence and I suddenly felt the urge to laugh.

‘You wait all day for a fucking doctor, then three of them come at once,’ he said. ‘To what do I owe the pleasure of your company? Is it the thousands I’m paying you every day to ignore me?’

‘Mr Basil, may I remind you to curb your tongue. If you’re feeling more irritable than usual, perhaps we can take a look at your medication.’

He waved a pale thin hand dismissively, almost in surrender.

‘A few minutes for you all and then I must insist on Mr Basil being alone,’ she said firmly. ‘We can talk then.’ She turned and left with her merry men scuttling along behind her.

‘I might see her again next week, whereupon she’ll visit my bed and once again tell me diddly squat. Who are you?’ he demanded, glaring at me.

Everyone turned their heads in my direction.

‘I’m Christine Rose.’ I held out my hand.

Mr Basil looked at it, lifted his hand, from which a tube protruded, and addressed Adam as he shook my hand limply: ‘Does Maria know about her? I never took you for a two-timer, you always seemed such a pussy. Pussy-whipped. Rose – what kind of name is that?’ He turned to me again.

‘We think it’s originally Rosenburg.’

He sized me up, then his eyes returned to Adam. ‘I like Maria. I don’t like many people, but I like her. And Mags, the dinner lady. Maria’s smart. Once she gets her act together she’ll go far. I don’t think much of that shitty business – Red Lips. It sounds like porno.’

I couldn’t help myself: I laughed, out loud.

Mr Basil appeared surprised, then continued, watching me as he spoke. ‘When she comes to her senses and stops making cartoons—’

‘Animation—’ I interrupted, feeling I owed it to Maria after enjoying her annihilation a little too much.

‘I don’t give a shit what – then she’ll do well. She’ll be helpful to you when you’re in charge, because God knows you couldn’t organise a piss-up in a brewery.’

‘Then why do you want him to take over the company?’ I asked, and all heads swivelled to me.

Everyone, especially Mr Basil, seemed surprised, not that he’d dream of letting on. His authority must never be allowed to slip for a moment, no one else could be permitted to take the lead.

‘Was that supposed to be a secret?’ I muttered to Adam.

He shook his head, looking at me with wary eyes.

‘What then?’ I looked around, unsure what I’d done. The woman named Mary took a step back from the bed, the younger woman in grey followed suit.

‘We’ll leave you to it, Mr Basil. We’ll be outside if you need us.’

He ignored her. Mary seemed to waver between leaving and staying.

‘Tell me, how do you know my son?’

‘We’re friends,’ Adam jumped in.

‘Ah, he speaks!’ his father said. ‘Tell me, Adam, the office haven’t seen you since Sunday. Apparently you were in Dublin to see me, but I’d have noticed if you’d come here and you didn’t. If you’re going to spend your time whoring around, then do it on—’

‘He wasn’t whoring—’

‘—your own time. I don’t like to be interrupted, thank you, Ms Rose.’

‘There’s an issue I’d like to discuss in private with you,’ I said. ‘Adam, you can leave too, if you like.’

Mr Basil looked at the two women by his bedside. They appeared anxious to get out of the room, and for that he was going to force them to stay. ‘I trust Mary more than I trust myself. She’s been with us since the day I took over forty years ago, and has known my son since he was in nappies, which was a phase that lasted longer than everyone hoped. Anything you have to say can be said in front of Mary. The other girl I’m not so sure of, but Mary thinks highly of her so I’m giving her a chance. Now cut the shit and tell me what you’re here for.’

The younger woman beside Mary lowered her head, embarrassed. I pulled over a chair and sat down.
How to Break Sensitive News to a Dying Old Man.
This particular man didn’t seem to deserve any sensitivity, given that he had none for anyone else. Well, if Adam wasn’t going to speak to him directly, I was. I’d sort this out once and for all. I came from a world of honesty and forthrightness, I wasn’t dramatic and certainly did not point out issues I had with people unless it was vital and unless it would improve the relationship, and I was grading Adam’s situation as vital. If a person’s behaviour has a negative effect on your life, you have to communicate with them, share the problem, discuss it, come to a conclusion. Communication is key in these situations, and clearly it was non-existent between this father and son. I sensed Adam was too afraid to stand up to his imposing father and so I would have to do it for him.

I spoke firmly and looked the old man directly in the eye. ‘I’m aware that you’re going to die very soon and you want Adam to take over the company so that control doesn’t revert to your nephew. We’re here to talk about that.’

Adam sighed and closed his eyes.

‘Shut up,’ Mr Basil snapped at him, even though he hadn’t spoken. ‘Mary, Patricia – outside, please.’ He didn’t even watch as they left, he kept his eyes on me.

I gave Adam a reassuring smile but he was unreadable, his jaw rigid.

Mr Basil looked at me as if I was the last person he wanted to have to talk to. ‘Ms Rose, you have your facts wrong. I don’t
want
Adam to take over the company. Lavinia is next in line, and was always intended to inherit. She’s far more able for the job than he is, believe you me, but she’s in Boston.’

‘Yes, I hear she stole millions from her friends and family,’ I said, putting him in his place. ‘Here’s the thing: Adam doesn’t want the job.’

I left a long silence. He waited for more but nothing came. That was it, I was finished. He didn’t deserve pandering and polite explanations.

‘Do you think I didn’t know that?’ He looked from me to Adam. ‘Is this supposed to be some elaborate reveal?’

I frowned. This wasn’t going the way I planned.

Mr Basil started laughing, but even his laugh was joyless.

‘His lack of interest in anything I do has made it patently obvious. He’s been fannying around with helicopters since he could talk, and he’s spent the last ten years messing around with the coast guard. I don’t care if he doesn’t want the job, I don’t care if it makes him deeply unhappy. It does not change what must be. A Basil must be in charge of this company. A Basil always has and always will be in charge of this company. And it cannot be Nigel Basil – it must not be. Over my dead body.’ He seemed unaware of the irony. ‘My grandfather, my father and I have fought hard to keep this company in our hands through good times and bad since it was founded, and no bossy little bitch with too much mouth and too little understanding is going to change that.’

My mouth fell open. I heard another of my eggs crack under the pressure.

‘Father, that’s enough,’ Adam said firmly. ‘Don’t speak to her like that. She’s not trying to change anything, she’s only telling you what she thinks you don’t know. She wants to help.’

‘And why are you communicating the message on my son’s behalf?’ He looked at Adam. ‘Son, it’s time you grew a set of balls. Don’t let other people do your dirty work.’ And then his tone turned nasty. Not comedy nasty as it had previously been, but bitter nasty, pure vitriol emanating from his eyes and mouth, which was twisted in a sneer. ‘Did he tell you he doesn’t receive a penny, no inheritance whatsoever, until he’s done ten years with the company? Whether I’m dead or alive, he gets nothing. I think that might persuade him.’

Adam was staring at the wall, his face set.

‘No, he didn’t,’ I said, now thoroughly riled by this vile old man. ‘But I really don’t think money is an issue for Adam. Mr Basil, if your company matters to you more than your own son’s wellbeing, shouldn’t you at least consider what is best for the company? I realise it’s a family company and it’s been there for generations; you’ve put your entire life into it, blood, sweat and tears – now you need to find someone who will go on doing that in your absence. The company will not flourish in Adam’s hands because he’s not driven by the same desire you are. If you really care about your legacy, find someone who will love it and nurture it as you have.’

He looked at me, his expression contemptuous, his eyes cold, then turned to Adam. I expected to hear spite but was surprised by his calm tone. ‘Maria will help you, Adam. When there are decisions to be made that you don’t know how to make, sound them out with her. Back when I started out, do you think a day went by that I didn’t ask your mother her opinion? And you’ll have Mary – she’s my right-hand man. You think you’ll have to do it alone? You won’t.’ He stopped, suddenly exhausted. ‘You can’t let Nigel step in, you know you can’t.’

‘Maybe Maria’s too busy sleeping with Sean to help him out. Isn’t that right?’

Startled, we all turned towards the doorway. A handsome young man looked back at us, the family resemblance obvious in his strong jaw and blue eyes. But his hair was dark instead of fair – and so was his soul. To me, he emanated bad vibes.

Amused, he raised an eyebrow at us, put his hands in his pockets and strolled over casually.

‘Nigel,’ Adam said curtly.

‘Hello, Adam. Hello, Uncle Dick.’

I wish I could have felt for Mr Basil then. What could be worse than seeing someone you despise when you’re ill in bed, wearing paisley pyjamas, powerless to defend yourself. And his name was Dick. But it was impossible to summon the pity.

‘What the hell are you doing here?’ Adam asked, not bothering to be polite and looking as though he wanted to hit him.

‘I came to visit my uncle, but it turns out to be good timing – you and I never got to finish our meeting last week. You seemed to leave in rather a rush.’

‘You two had a meeting?’ Mr Basil looked as though he’d been stabbed in the heart.

‘Adam came to me about my taking over Basil’s. He quite liked the idea of the names
Bartholomew Basil
coming together – the greatest tribute to our grandfather, don’t you think?’ he smirked.

‘You’re a liar!’ Adam’s fury was evident. He trampled on my feet to get to his cousin, who he grabbed by the scruff of the neck and pushed all the way across the room till he slammed him hard against the wall. He wrapped his hand around Nigel’s throat and held him there as his cousin struggled.

‘Adam,’ I warned, trying to hold back my panic.

‘You’re a bloody liar,’ Adam said through gritted teeth. Nigel’s veins were protruding from his forehead as he tried to pull Adam’s hands away from his throat, but Adam was stronger. Instead, Nigel turned his effort to thrusting his fingers at Adam’s nostrils, forcing his head back.

‘Adam!’ I jumped up. I tried to stop them but was afraid of getting too close when they were battling it out. I looked back at Mr Basil. His face was like thunder but he was ultimately an impotent old man in his sick bed – and he knew it. He started breathing very heavily.

‘Mr Basil, are you okay?’ I asked. I ran back to his side and pressed the call button for the nurse.

His eyes were watering.

‘He wouldn’t,’ I said firmly. ‘Adam wouldn’t do that.’

He searched my face for signs of being misled.

‘Of course, he wouldn’t,’ I said, beginning to panic and pressing the call button continuously. By the time security burst into the room, Adam and Nigel were scuffling on the ground. They immediately pulled Adam off Nigel and while they held him by the shoulders, with his arms trapped behind his back, Nigel swung his arm and punched Adam hard, first across the jaw, then in the stomach.

Adam doubled over.

‘I think your modelling days are over,’ I joked weakly as I dabbed Adam’s split lip once we were back at the flat.

He smiled and the blood started to spill all over again through his stretched cut.

‘Ah, don’t smile,’ I said, dabbing at it again.

‘No problem,’ he sighed. He stood up suddenly, pushing me away, the aggression back in his body. ‘I’m going for a shower.’

I opened my mouth to call out an apology. I had tried to do right and it had all gone horribly wrong. Our lunch at the restaurant had given him cramps, the walk in the park had led him to be locked in a garda cell, the random drive had led to a car chase, and my quest to tell his father the truth had led to him getting his face punched in.

Sorry.

But I didn’t say anything. It didn’t matter. I had said it in the car on the way home until I was blue in the face; I had tried to talk the entire episode into a positive experience, one about facing the truth and dealing with consequences, but I knew it was a hard sell. I’d misjudged the situation. I’d thought he had been too afraid to tell his father, but the fear was because he knew that his father was aware he wanted none of it but it made no difference. It had been naïve of me, thinking I could hit upon an obvious way out of a situation Adam had spent years trying to extricate himself from. It was only after exploring every other possible escape route that he’d made his desperate decision on the Ha’penny Bridge. I should have known that, and the fact it hadn’t occurred to me left me feeling awkward and embarrassed. He didn’t want to hear my words any more. My words weren’t fixing anything. My being sorry would change nothing.

At four a.m. I kicked the duvet covers off the bed in a fit of frustration and officially gave up on trying to sleep.