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Authors: Barbara Taylor Bradford
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uncomplicated. When is she returning?’
Emma did not think Paula was uncomplicated at all, but she resisted any comment about her granddaughter. ‘On Thursday. Another sherry, Henry?’ she asked as she started to pour it into his glass.
‘Yes, thank you, darling. You said you wanted to talk to me about a few things, before you took Paula’s call.’ He eyed the folder curiously. ‘Anything serious?’
‘No, not at all. I would like to liquidate some of my personal assets and I thought you could handle it for me,’ Emma replied, her voice casual, her face relaxed. She sipped her drink slowly and waited, regarding Henry intently, knowing only too well how he would react.
In spite of his anxiety earlier, he was taken by surprise. He had not expected this at all. He put down his glass and leaned forward, a worried pucker creasing his brow. ‘Do you have problems, Emma?’ he asked quietly.
Emma met his gaze directly. ‘No, Henry. I told you I want to liquidate some of my own assets. For personal reasons. There are no problems. You should know that, darling. After all, you handle most of my banking business.’
Henry reflected for an instant, his mind rapidly reassembling all those figures he had seen that morning. Had he inadvertently missed something of vital importance? No. That was notpossible. He breathed a little more easily, and cleared his throat. ‘Well, yes, that’s true,’ he said thoughtfully. ‘In fact, I looked over all of your accounts before I came over. Everything is in good order. Very good order. As a matter of fact, things have never looked better,’ he finished in all truthfulness.
‘I need a little cash, Henry. Ready cash. For personal reasons, as I said. So, rather than sell any shares, I thought I would get rid of some real estate, jewellery, and part of my art collection.’
Henry was so flabbergasted he was momentarily rendered speechless. Before he recovered sufficiently to make a comment she handed him the folder. He took out his glasses, put them on, and looked at the lists inside, startled and apprehensive. As his eyes ran down the assets he remembered his foreboding earlier in the morning. Perhaps his instincts had been correct.
‘Emma! All this doesn’t represent a little cash, as you casually call it. These assets represent millions of pounds!’
‘Oh, I know. I figured about seven or eight million pounds. What do you think, Henry dear?’ she asked calmly.
‘Good God! Emma! Why do you suddenly need seven or eight million pounds? And what do I think? you ask me. I think there is something wrong and that you are not telling me. You must have problems I can have no way of knowing about!’ His grey transparent eyes blazed as he endeavoured to control his anger. He was certain she was hiding something, and it annoyed him.
‘Oh, come on, Henry,’ Emma clucked. ‘Don’t get so excited. Nothing’s wrong. Actually, I only need about six million for my…shall we call it my personal project? I prefer to sell these things, since I don’t need them anyway. I never wear that jewellery. You know I’m not overly fond of diamonds. And even when it’s sold I’ll still have more than enough that is decent for a woman of my age. The real estate is cumbersome. I don’t want that either, and I feel this is the perfect time to sell and make a profit. I’m being rather clever really,’ she finished on a self-congratulatory note, smiling pleasantly at Henry.
He gazed at her in astonishment. She had the knack ofmaking all of her actions sound admirably pragmatic and it generally maddened him. ‘But the art collection, Emma! My dear, you put so much love and time and care into gathering these…these masterpieces. Are you sure you want to let them go?’ His voice had taken on a saddened, wistful tone. He glanced at the list in his hand. ‘Look what you’re listing here. Sisleys, Chagalls, Monets, Manets, Dalis, Renoirs, and Pissarros, and a Degas. Two , in fact. It’s a
Emma did not think Paula was uncomplicated at all, but she resisted any comment about her granddaughter. ‘On Thursday. Another sherry, Henry?’ she asked as she started to pour it into his glass.
‘Yes, thank you, darling. You said you wanted to talk to me about a few things, before you took Paula’s call.’ He eyed the folder curiously. ‘Anything serious?’
‘No, not at all. I would like to liquidate some of my personal assets and I thought you could handle it for me,’ Emma replied, her voice casual, her face relaxed. She sipped her drink slowly and waited, regarding Henry intently, knowing only too well how he would react.
In spite of his anxiety earlier, he was taken by surprise. He had not expected this at all. He put down his glass and leaned forward, a worried pucker creasing his brow. ‘Do you have problems, Emma?’ he asked quietly.
Emma met his gaze directly. ‘No, Henry. I told you I want to liquidate some of my own assets. For personal reasons. There are no problems. You should know that, darling. After all, you handle most of my banking business.’
Henry reflected for an instant, his mind rapidly reassembling all those figures he had seen that morning. Had he inadvertently missed something of vital importance? No. That was notpossible. He breathed a little more easily, and cleared his throat. ‘Well, yes, that’s true,’ he said thoughtfully. ‘In fact, I looked over all of your accounts before I came over. Everything is in good order. Very good order. As a matter of fact, things have never looked better,’ he finished in all truthfulness.
‘I need a little cash, Henry. Ready cash. For personal reasons, as I said. So, rather than sell any shares, I thought I would get rid of some real estate, jewellery, and part of my art collection.’
Henry was so flabbergasted he was momentarily rendered speechless. Before he recovered sufficiently to make a comment she handed him the folder. He took out his glasses, put them on, and looked at the lists inside, startled and apprehensive. As his eyes ran down the assets he remembered his foreboding earlier in the morning. Perhaps his instincts had been correct.
‘Emma! All this doesn’t represent a little cash, as you casually call it. These assets represent millions of pounds!’
‘Oh, I know. I figured about seven or eight million pounds. What do you think, Henry dear?’ she asked calmly.
‘Good God! Emma! Why do you suddenly need seven or eight million pounds? And what do I think? you ask me. I think there is something wrong and that you are not telling me. You must have problems I can have no way of knowing about!’ His grey transparent eyes blazed as he endeavoured to control his anger. He was certain she was hiding something, and it annoyed him.
‘Oh, come on, Henry,’ Emma clucked. ‘Don’t get so excited. Nothing’s wrong. Actually, I only need about six million for my…shall we call it my personal project? I prefer to sell these things, since I don’t need them anyway. I never wear that jewellery. You know I’m not overly fond of diamonds. And even when it’s sold I’ll still have more than enough that is decent for a woman of my age. The real estate is cumbersome. I don’t want that either, and I feel this is the perfect time to sell and make a profit. I’m being rather clever really,’ she finished on a self-congratulatory note, smiling pleasantly at Henry.
He gazed at her in astonishment. She had the knack ofmaking all of her actions sound admirably pragmatic and it generally maddened him. ‘But the art collection, Emma! My dear, you put so much love and time and care into gathering these…these masterpieces. Are you sure you want to let them go?’ His voice had taken on a saddened, wistful tone. He glanced at the list in his hand. ‘Look what you’re listing here. Sisleys, Chagalls, Monets, Manets, Dalis, Renoirs, and Pissarros, and a Degas. Two , in fact. It’s a
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