Madeleine Ker - Takeover

8/13/2019 Madeleine Ker - Takeover

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Takeover

Madeleine Ker

He didn't give a damn about tradition

When Nash Canfield, abrasive enfant terrible of journalism, took over the staid old

Lancashire Herald after the death of Christine's father, her conservative outlook clashed

violently with his radical views.


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Christine was horrified at the raw commercialism that was reviving the newsaer's

readershi!!and furious that she'd become little more than a rubber stam to Nash'sendeavors.

"elentlessly he invaded her working world. #nd it seemed he lanned an e$uallydisturbing invasion into her ersonal life%

CHAPTER ONE

&N #LL the si months since he'd taken over the Herald, Christine had never known

Nash Canfield to oen any conversation with social niceties.

()o you know what goes on in "ansome *treet+' he rased as soon as she came into hisoffice. (alk about a $uiet country town!it's more like *odom and -omorrah.'

(-ood morning,' she said calmly, knowing him too well to be rattled by this oening. he

chaotic clatter of the newsroom faded behind her as she shut the door of his office.

*he settled herself into the chair he waved her to, and crossed her slender legs.(& take it you know what &'m talking about+' Nash demanded, drumming a devil's tattoo

on the desk with imatient fingers.(es,' Christine said steadily, '&'m aware that the roblem eists. #s it eists in many

towns of this si/e. & don't know the eact scale.'

(Nobody knows the eact scale,' Nash snorted, (not even the olice. 0ut residents arevery bitter in the areas affected, esecially "ansome *treet. heir lives are being made a

misery.'

(es,' Chris nodded, (& know that, too.'

(et as far as & know, this newsaer has never ublished an article about the situation.'He arched a dark eyebrow at her. (Why is that+'

(Well,' she said awkwardly, 'traditionally1'

'#h. hat word again.'He favoured her with a smile which added no gentleness to a face that looked as though it

had been carved out of mahogany. &n a good mood, it was more handsome than

dangerous. &n a bad mood, it was a lot more dangerous than handsome.Nash Canfield had lived through a very rough childhood in London's 2ast 2nd. 2veryone

here knew that. He'd had to fight other slum!kids to kee the money he'd earned at his

first job!as a newsaer boy for a big London daily. Later, he'd done odd jobs round the

newsaer yard, making himself generally useful. His schooling had been negligible3 heoften said so himself. He'd learned almost everything he knew about the world from the

ages of a newsaer.

#t seventeen, he had been running errands between the newsroom and the *tock2change, and, at twenty, he had been contributing brilliant articles to the same aer's

financial section. *tockmarket trends were his seciality.

He understood his toic so well that he'd built himself a massive fortune during histwenties, as he rose steadily uwards in financial journalism. 4ntil he had had enough

money to do what he'd dreamed of ever since he'd been a slum!kid, selling aers on a

street corner5 leave London for the rovinces, and buy his own newsaer.


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hose had been the origins of journalism's newest enfant terrible, the man who now

owned theHerald. When you understood that, you realised that he'd always seen running

a newsaer from the bottom u!not from the journalist's viewoint, but as a business. #sa huge machine for generating money, success, influence.

(raditionally,' she said, (theHeralddoesn't have a record as an investigative newsaer.'

(ou mean that our readers aren't interested in what haens on their own doorstes+' heasked silkily.

(No,' she said atiently, (& don't mean that. 0ut & don't think eole want to read about

something as ugly as soliciting in their local aer.'Contemt glittered in the dark ga/e which jolted her from under lowered brows. (ou're

the editor of the Wednesday "eview. )oesn't this subject ever come u in all the coy

that lands on your desk+'

(Well, yes,' she said. (0ut1'He tossed a file across the desk at her. (here are half a do/en letters in there. #ll from

women asking why no one's doing any!thing about what's haening to their area. 6ne of

the oldest and most resected arts of this town is turning into a red!light district. We

owe them an investigation of why it's haening, and what's being done about it. #nd &think the Wednesday "eview is the lace to showcase it.'

Chris's heart sank about ten fathoms. Her Wednesday "eview, a Canfield creation, wastheHerald's female!interest section. he family, the arts, fashion, health, fitness, women

at work!things like that were the stale of the four!age, fold!out section that was almost

a mini!newsaer in itself. *he had often felt that it tended towards silliness, and it didn'talways fulfil her ambitions to write seriously. 0ut this '#re you sure+' she $ueried him,

visualising a very large cat landing among her igeons.

(ou find it distasteful+'

(es, very7'Nash drew a breath, black eyes glinting dangerously.

(his is the local aer, ardley. 4ntil we start reorting local news, good, bad or ugly,

we don't have a hoe of cometing with the nationals. )o & make myself clear+'*he stretched her mouth in a thin smile.

(ou make yourself erfectly clear. #s usual.'

he sarcasm bounced right off Nash's thick hide. He leaned back, the silk shirt ullingtight over a faultlessly muscled torso. Nash would have made a lethal boer. 6r maybe a

nightclub bouncer. He was si foot si, and built to match, and that voice was grade three

gravel. &t came from low, low down in his chest, and it could caress in the most

threatening way.here was a srinkling of silvery scars, too, not too obvious against the tanned skin, but

there all the same once you knew where to look for them. he face of a fighter. Not a

brawler3 a murderously controlled duellist who'd long since learned to laugh in the faceof life.

His idea of fun, aarently, lay in dangerously challenging sorts like sky!diving, lone

yachting, mountain!climbing. "egular visits to the 8editerranean or Caribbean ket thatdelicious tan fresh and dee.

(his has all the makings of a big story,' he mused, obviously thinking fiercely. (&t has all

the right ingredients!se, human interest, shock!value. & want it on the resses net

Wednesday, before the Chroniclegets it. We'll run a uff in the omorrow column on


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uesday, and then again on the &nside column on the front age on Wednesday.' With a

hint of grim amusement, he studied Chris's elegant beauty. ()on't look so disaroving.

-od alone knows why you wear those glasses. hey make you look like a fro/en school!mistress.'

(hey hel me see clearly.' o tell the truth, she always wore them when coming to see

Nash. 9artly as a kind of flimsy defence, artly because she took a mean leasure out ofknowing they irritated him. (#re you asking me to write the story+'

(& don't want you anywhere near "ansome *treet,' he said sharly. (&'m sending two men!

:ennings and om *hoals. &'ll be seaking to the commissioner of olice myself. What &want you to do is tie in the story from the feminist angle. *eak to the local social

workers, referably women. -et a good, snay, socio!olitical slant on the story. 6h,

and find some good library ictures to go with it.'

Chris sat u very straight. (& don't think this is going to work, Nash. When my father ranthis aer!'

Nash's face hardened momentarily. (our father does not run this aer any more. & do.

&f you've got objections, then let's hear them.'

Chris shrugged awkwardly, not bothering to disguise her distaste. (Why do you sound asthough you need my ermission at all+' she asked drily. (#s you've just ointed out, this

is your newsaer now.'(&'m more interested in your oinion than your ermission,' he said in a velvety voice. (*o

go on.'

(;ery well.' *he took a dee breath. ("unning an eos< of rostitution in this town willshock readers badly. &t's hardly in the Herald's best trad!' Warned by his arching

eyebrow, she changed the word in midstream. (!interests. &t might be eected of a

London aer, but this is an old!fashioned, conservative district. #round here, it would

be seen as an insult to the town's good name. 8ost eole know that immorality goes on,but they refer not to notice it.'

(2cet the decent women who get accosted by comlete strangers in "ansome *treet,' he

cut in drily. (#nd who start anicking if their teenage daughters are ten minutes lategetting home.'

(#ll right.' *he conceded the oint tiredly. He would never understand. He was a big!city

man. He hadn't been born in this town, hadn't lived in it all his life, the way she had done.(0ut it will also be seen as deliberate, salacious, muck!raking. &t will alienate as many

readers as it attracts. Worse,' she ursued her oint, (the sort of readers it's likely to attract

are just temorary ones. he eole it'll alienate are the backbone of our readershi.'

(Like Colonel 0lim,' Nash suggested drily, referring to a retired #rmy officer who was aregular comlainer in theHerald's letter age.

(Colonel 0all has had a subscrition to theHeraldall his life,' she ointed out. (He was a

close friend of my father'(Look,' he said, leaning forward, (it's u to you to see that the story comes across as

serious, and not frivolous. hat's art of your job. 0ut the whole affair reeks of

newsvalue!and news!value is what running a newsaer is all about.'(&s that another word for ublicity+' she asked sweetly.

()on't knock it7 his single story could double our circulation by net weekend. #nd

some of those new readers might just stay. he Heraldis never going to make a rofit


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(hat might be a novel eerience for both of us,' she said ironically. (8aybe & should try

it. Who knows, it might even get me the sack+'

He looked u sharly. (ou sound as though you almost mean that.'(8aybe & almost do.'

(& need you,' he said in a threatening voice, as though that were the most comelling

reason in the world for her to stay.(& don't think you do.' *he looked out of the window at the view of the winding river,

grey in the winter light. &gnoring the ominous descent of his brow, she went on, (8aybe

it would be easier all round if you changed me for someone else. *omeone more!shall wesay attuned to your way of looking at things.'

(#re you telling me that you're too emotionally involved with this newsaer to work

under me+'

he direct $uestion unsettled her. (&!& don't know1'He stared at her with glittering eyes for a moment. (Well, you'd better find out, hadn't

you+' he said bluntly. He icked u the discreet ivory telehone and growled, (6livia+

-et me 0ob :ennings and om *hoals, lease.'

Her cue to eit stage left and reaear after two acts with a brilliant story in her arms.("ight,' she said heavily to no one in articular, and walked out, leaving him giving

orders down the line.he noise of the newsroom enfolded her again as she walked out. *he aused

momentarily to look across the long, crowded room. &t was a scene as familiar to her as

her own image, the orderly confusion of desks, key!boards and telehones that was thetrue, beating heart of the newsaer.

et there was something indefinably different about the newsroom these days. Whether it

was the heightened activity, or whether it was the green comuter!screens that now

glowed among the cluttered desks, or whether it was just the fact that collars and ties hadgiven way to the smart casuals that Nash ermitted, the newsroom had changed radically

from her father's time.

&t was hard not to feel nostalgia for those dear, dead days of slightly shabby gentility andfinancial gloom.

Nash had swet through the building like the advance guard of some highly develoed

alien civilisation, ordering the steam!age technology of her father's era to be relacedwith the latest micro!circuitry, walls to be ainted five shades lighter, everything hustled

into a state of ultra!efficient modernity.

#nd he'd done eactly the same with theHeralditself. &n the last two years of her father's

time, theHeraldhad shrunk from a daily to a twice!weekly, and there had even beenlans to bring it out once weekly. Nash had very definitely turned it back into a daily, a

commercial daily, the sort of newsaer her father would have been incaable of

roducing in a million years.&t was bigger, brighter, more eye!catching than ever before, from the 8onday game of

bingo, with its big cash ri/es, to the =riday colour sulement.

Chris knew that the rumour about Nash wanting to introduce a age three girl wasatently untrue, yet such a suggestion would not have astonished her. he man had a

ra/or!edged instinct for what would sell. 2ven his editorials reflected that3 they were

brilliant, incisive, and!though she hated to admit it!formidably well!informed. hey


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caught the thrust of ublic oinion and gave it a hard edge of clarity. he readers loved

them.

0ut the staid old aer of her father's and grandfather's day had been transformed forever. *he knew what they would have called the new roduct. he banner ress. #n old!

fashioned, snobbish hrase, reflecting all their contemt for the kind of consicuous

journalism Nash reresented.et the accounts were showing their first rofits in years. =or the first time in years, too,

the Herald was ublishing enough coies to cover the bills. he distribution and

advertising deartments were rushed off their feet3 two etra hotograhers had beenemloyed3 and the junior reorters hurried around with shining eyes, agreeing with each

other that it was all very wonderful.

Crude+ Nash was as brutally efficient as a flicknife, and about as sentimental.

*he turned into her own tiny office, the one that had belonged to her father. hough nowa leasant shade of ale blue with matching wall!to!wall caret, and ornamented with a

otted fig!tree she considered ridiculously huge, it still reminded her so strongly of that

loveable man...

*i months ago, Chris's father had died suddenly. Like his father before him, he had beentheHerald's editor!owner all his life. His demise, and the conse$uent death!duties, had

brought the aer's long!tottering finances down with a mighty crash around their ears.*he had barely had time to bury her father, and come to terms with her grief when the

accountants had confronted her with the steadily burgeoning crisis.

he bank, concerned about its debenture, had lost confidence in the aer. &n theiroinion, theHeraldhad only one otion!to go into receivershi immediately.

Chris hadn't known whether to feel desair or relief. #t twenty!si, she'd recognised that

she was not e$uied either to edit or manage the Herald. *he was just too

ineerienced, desite her intimate involvement with the aer. -iven another ten yearsof her father's tutelage, another decade of eerience!maybe. 0ut right then, the idea was

not feasible.

hat was the oint at which Nash Canfield's resence had first made itself felt, like thesound of distant thunder. heir gloom turned miraculously into otimism, the accountants

had brought her the hint that *omeone!note the caital *!was interested in buying the

LancashireHerald.*he would never forget that first meeting with Nash Canfield. He'd filled her with a

miture of hoe and terror. He'd seemed really caable of doing what she herself knew

she could never do single!handed!of re!floating theHerald, and making it ay. 6f saving

the jobs of the fifty or more staff, some of them eole she'd known since childhood, allof them colleagues to whom she felt a strong sense of duty...

*o she'd sold out to him. 6r rather, the bank had sold out to him, with her blessing,

because by then they'd been the real owners. #ll that had been hers had been the name.Nash had bought the Herald's assets, lock, stock and rinting ress. He owned this

building, and the warehouse in *t :ohn's Lane. He owned the machines and the fleets of

distribution and staff vehicles. He even owned the contracts under which most of the staffworked.

#t that oint, her own osition had become more than a little anomalous... 0ut Nash had

been $uite categorical about his wish that she should stay on the staff.


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4nder her father, she had been a secial reorter, a kind of -irl!=riday ost that had been

designed to allow her to circulate and learn as much about running the Herald as

ossible!against the ossibility that she might, one far!off day, inherit her father's mantle.Nash, clearly, had seen all this, and had thought out an alternative very carefully. He had

offered her the chance to edit the newly set u Wednesday "eview. -iving her semi!

eecutive status, but clearly removed from the real seat of ower, it was an honourablecomromise. He'd also asked her to chair the editorial consultative committee, which had

a lot less clout than the formal name suggested. #s editor of the Wednesday ages, her

brief would be to roduce something as outward!going, and as involved in the life of thetown, as humanly ossible.

*he acceted, and so far the results had been very romising. *he'd just successfully

brought to a close a camaign to raise a very large sum of money to buy e$uiment for

the local children's hosital, and in the summer they had organised a fun run that hadbrought together almost si hundred townswomen from all walks of life. &t wasn't the sort

of journalism her father had brought her u to do, but it ket her very busy indeed ...

2cet that Nash Canfield was the alligator in the ool. *ometimes it seemed to her that

there was more alligator than ool. *he had regretted the initial enthusiasm which had al!lowed her to let him talk her into staying on a thousand times. 0ut at that oint, she'd still

believed he would value her oinion, desite the fact that she would at best have only anadvisory status. *he had felt, out of some mislaced altruism, that her remaining on might

act as a check on Nash, rotecting the staff from any ecesses the new manager might run

to.#lso, in the stunned aftermath of )ad's fatal heart attack, she just hadn't had any!where

else to go. Leaving theHeraldhad seemed inconceivable...

0ut she should have left, then, cutting all her losses, before all her hoe in the future had

been turned to bitterness at seeing Nash Canfield's aggressive, thrusting figure in herfather's lace. &ncreasingly, she had been aware of an acute sense of loss these days. Not

just that she'd lost the family newsaer to Nash, but that the old Herald, with its sity

years of tradition, was steadily being lost to the world for ever.Nash's dark resence was overshadowing her life until she felt like!!what was that

reulsive image+

(he toad under the harrow,' she murmured to herself with a wry smile. hat was the wayhe made you feel. He was just too abrasive, too aggressive. #fter a lifetime with this

newsaer, it was very hard to see every!thing transformed around her. *he couldn't hel

resisting the man wherever ossible!as she'd done five minutes ago. =ighting to sto

herself from becoming a mere rubber stam, used by Nash to ut a gloss on hisintentions.

&f she ket arguing with him, sooner or later she was really going to land u with the

sack. #nd then he would do eactly what he wanted with theHerald.here was something about him that would have antagonised her under any

circumstances, something ersonal. *omething that couldn't be defined, a kind of

challenge that Nash resented her with, something that crackled like electricity betweenthem.

*he didn't want to go on like this much longer, not in this constant state of tension with

him. Leaving the Heraldwas no longer as inconceivable as it had once seemed. #nd

there was a traditional, honourable way out. London. Her years at a rovincial reorter's


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desk, lus her family background in news!aer ublishing, would make her an at!

tractive roosition to a London aer...

:ean *ymmonds's knock at her door interruted Chris's gloomy train of thought.(hought you were back. Here's the usual.' *he ut the ile of coy on Chris's desk.

)oubling as roving reorter and coy!taster, :ean was the mainstay of the Wednesday

"eview, artly because of her abiding friendshi with Chris. *he had always been one ofher father's favourites. Her untidy chestnut hair gave her a scatty air that belied her

orderly mind, and Chris was very fond of her. "ight now, her bony face was alight with

gossi waiting to be communicated. (ou'll never guess what & saw last night.'(ry me,' Chris smiled.

(6ur revered leader kissing 8iss Claws in his office7'

(ou're joking,' Chris said. (Nash+'

(& am not joking. ?laus looked as though she was going to eat him7'(& can't say & find it incredible,' Chris said wonderingly, her amethyst!grey eyes

darkening. he Herald's advertising manager was a very good!looking brunette in her

early thirties. ?nown to all and sundry as (8iss Claws', she was well known to have a

discerning aetite for rich and owerful men. #nd #nita's whole being had been focusedon Nash, with an intensity obvious to everyone, from the very start.

(0ut in Nash's office+ #re you sure they weren't just discussing an advertisement orsomething+'

(&'m not an idiot.' :ean sniffed. (& just oked my head round the door, and there they were.

& shot out again in a hurry, & can tell you.'(0last that woman7' Chris said with uneected vehemence. (*he's been chasing him

from the moment he arrived here. #nd if he falls for her routine, then he's even more mis!

guided than & thought he was.'

(Nash+ 8isguided+'(4nless he's just not too fussy about his laymates,' Chris added bitchily. With :ean, she

could say things she wouldn't dream of airing abroad. *he had known :ean long enough

to be able to confide her more rivate thoughts to her. (& thought he had taste7 houghcome to think of it, he's robably just unscruulous enough to do it.'

(*he's very retty. #ll that lovely chestnut hair...'

(*he's a man!eating shark. #nd as for him!' Chris's oval face soured. (He's so reulsivesometimes that it's $uite a leasure to hate him.'

:ean smiled. (Well, & certainly don't hate him7'

(ou don't have to work with him every day,' Chris said moodily, still thinking about

#nita. (& do.'(9oor thing7'

(&t's all very well for you to smile. & really wish he wouldn't kee consulting me about

things. &t's such a useless charade7'(He resects your oinion. ou're *am ardley's daughter.'

(He doesn't resect a single thing & say7 2very time & contradict him, he just gives me a

lecture about why &'m wrong, and he's right..+he doesn't have your father's balanced, educated viewoint, but..+

'He's a demagogue,' Chris finished, with an edge to her voice.

(&n the best ossible sense. #lso,' :ean said dreamily, (he's rather a magnificent animal.

ou can just imagine him sweeing you over his shoulder. & rather envy 8iss Claws. .'


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(Well & don't,' Chris snaed.

(ou're too wraed in fighting him to see it,' :ean said with a smile. &t's that dark,

brooding sensuality of his. #nyway, what's got you so anti!Nash this morning+'()on't remind me,' Chris sighed. (he Wednesday age is going to "ansome *treet.'

(How eciting7'

(hat wasn't $uite my reaction,' Chris said irritatedly. (& tried to tell him that it just didn'tfit with the Herald's status in this town, but & don't think he can see beyond the

distribution!figures.'

(Hmm5 :ean smiled. (&t certainly doesn't fit with the sort of journalism your father stoodfor. 0ut it's going to make a slash all right.'

(& don't think Nash Canfield gives a damn about the ast tradition of the Herald,' Chris

said. (#nd raw commercialism's only art of it. Lately, &'ve been feeling more and more

that he bought the aer out of sheer egotism, to have a mouthiece for his own oinions.#fter all,' she said drily, (having your own aer's the ultimate ego!tri to that sort of

man, isn't it+ & mean, think of his crusading editorials, hitting out at things that annoy

him!what better way to um u your self!oinion+'

(Nash doesn't need uming u. #nd as for "ansome *treet!well, & mean, it's like theemeror's new clothes, isn't it+ 2veryone knows what goes on, but no one dares say

anything about it. & think it's a marvellous toic. *eriously, don't you+'(&t hardly matters what & think,' Chris said with a businesslike air. (6urs not to reason

why, ours but to do and die. & daren't argue any more. Nash would tear me limb from

limb. He seems to get a ositive leasure out of tormenting me.'(6f course he does,' :ean smiled. (& think he rather goes for you.'

(What nonsense,' Chris retorted, taken aback. (He feels as cold about me as & do about

him7'

("eally+' :ean wore an odd smile. (& think you're rather his tye.'(& couldn't be any less his tye7' &rritably, she was aware of her cheeks flushing. 'He

susects anyone who's got a regular education, and & went to an eclusive school. He

simly detests the old!fashioned way of running theHerald, and &'m all for it. 6n to ofwhich, he's a woman!hater, and &'m a woman7'

:ean studied her friend. Christine ardley's was a neat, lithe body, blessed with long,

beautiful legs and elegant lines. #ny imression of delicacy wouldn't have been ac!curate, though3 Chris was as sringy as a high!steing doe. *he had her mother's full

mouth, but the hint of assion mied with melancholy was all her own3 and the amethyst

grey of her eyes was as striking as the natural silver!blonde of her long, silky hair.

(&f there's one thing Nash admires, my dear Chris, it's intelligence. #nd you have a greatdeal of that. #dded to which, you're a very good journalist, and that's $uite a different

thing. 0esides !' *he held u a hand to stem Chris's retort. (!he seems to bring out the best

in you. ou've blossomed, as a erson and as a journalist. he ast si months on theWednesday "eview have been the most eciting eriod in my whole career.' Not ausing

long enough for Chris to get any kind of rely in edgeways, :ean started assing the coy

across to Chris. (his is a reort just in from the 9ress #ssociation about breast cancer.*ally wants to know whether you think an item in the medical column is called for. #nd

there are two short stories in from local writers, one of them really $uite good.

9ushing her conflict with Nash to the darker recesses of her mind, Chris concentrated on

the mass of information that :ean had assembled for her attention. *omehow, all this


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jumble of facts, ictures and rose would have to be rocessed into the Wednesday

"eview over the net few days.

&t wasn't until :ean had left, almost an hour later, that her friend's words returned to hermind. Had she really eanded under Nash's editorshi+ Chris shook her head slowly.

*he found that very hard to believe. :ean's obvious attraction towards Nash Canfield had

struck her several times before. *he knew that she herself would never think of Nash inthose terms3 she disliked him far too much. *he didn't see him as a man!more as a

otentially devastating elemental force, better avoided if ossible, to be faced only when

strictly necessary.& think you're rather his tye.

*ome women might go weak at the knees in the resence of that rather overowering

virility, but Chris ardley wasn't one of them. he $ualities she admired in a man were

creativity, tolerance, sensitivity. Nash Canfield didn't have an ounce of the last two, andas for the first!well, if you could call a volcano creative, then you might aly the word

to Nash, but not otherwise.

&t was damnable, the way he got her back u. *ometimes he made her so angry she could

scarcely think!and things like the news about #nita ?laus didn't hel in the slightest.Hearing :ean's bit of gossi had really uset and sickened her. 2veryone knew he was at!

tractive to women. Why the hell did he have to rove it+ #nd why with that ambitious,vulgar little serent #nita+

)amn him for kissing #nita. )amn him7 With an effort, she turned her attention to the

assignment she'd been given.)uncan #nderson was a very gifted di!rector. Starfire, his sith film, was a decidedly

erotic love story. *tarring a very beautiful and hitherto little!known young actress, it told

the story of a young woman's unsuccessful marriage, and her attemts to find fulfilment

with several other lovers. he three =ilm *ociety awards had confirmed criticalenthusiasm for the film.

he only roblem she foresaw was that #nderson himself was a somewhat rivate

erson. He hadn't been resent, for e amle, to receive his award!@ara @offany,Starfire's rincial actress, had done that for him. *he would have to lay it with

sensitivity.

&t was certainly a glamorous assignment, and the first thing on the agenda was to trackhim down. Within minutes, though, a good friend in a local estate agency had sulied

the answer she wanted. *he rang the number, but there was no rely. Well, at least she'd

located him3 she'd ring back later.

#s she ut the hone down a dee hum, more felt than heard, rose u through the floorunder Chris's feet. o her, it had always been the most eciting of sounds!the dee

rumble of the resses starting u on the ground floor, getting ready to rint the first

(evening' edition!actually, an early after!noon edition. &n the courtyard outside, the fleetof vans would soon be assembling to get the first warm bundles out to the distribution!

oints, and from there to newsagents across the county.

&t wasn't theHeraldher grandfather had founded. #nd it wasn't being run by her fatherany more. 0ut at least it was still alive...

*oothed by the familiar vibration, which she'd known and loved since childhood, she

thrust Nash Canfield out of her mind, and icked u her telehone.


12/91

(Hello, switchboard. Can you get me 9rofessor 8yra 8atthews, )eartment of *ocial

*tudies at the 4niversity, lease.' *he ulled her ad towards her, and wrote "#N*682

*"22 at the to, in caitals. hen she leaned forward, shifting into gear. (Hello.9rofessor 8atthews+ &t's Chris ardley here, from the Herald. & wonder if you could

sare me some time today or tomorrow+ &t's about "ansome *treet.'

CH#92" W6

H2 leasant voice that answered her telehone call the net morning was lightly

accented with a *cots brogue.

()uncan #nderson seaking.'

(-ood morning, 8r #nderson. 8y name's Christine ardley, from theHerald.'(6h, yes+' he relied coolly.

(&'m sorry to intrude,' she said. (&'m the editor of the Wednesday "eview, which is our

women's section. & wondered whether you'd give me an interview while you're in

Lancashire, for the arts age+ &'d areciate it very much.'here was a slight ause. (& didn't think anyone knew & was here. our information's very

good, 8rs ardley.'(&t's 8iss ardley,' she corrected olitely. (#nd your resence here is big news, 8r

#nderson. &'d be very grateful1'

here was another ause, and then a sigh. (Well, & suose &'m free tomorrow after!noon.'(Wonderful7' she enthused. (Would two o'clock suit you+'

Chris could sense his mental shrug. (& suose so.'

(#nd would you mind if & brought a hotograher with me+' she ventured.

his time the reaction was not so ositive. (&'d rather not, actually. & do come u here forrivacy, you know.'

>uit while you're ahead, she told herself. (Well, & look forward to tomorrow afternoon,

then,' she said leasantly. (hank you, 8r #nderson.'(0ye.'

*he ut the receiver down with a sense of relief. hat had been ainless enough. &n the

mean time, she could get down to evaluating the mass of information 8yra 8atthews hadgiven her yesterday.

*he was giving the "ansome *treet roblem her full attention, now, and it was bigger

than she'd imagined. here were some very fascinating side!issues starting to aear

already. &f her instincts were right, there was going to be enough interest in the story togenerate a two!section investigation, with an oinion oll, and maybe a defence by one of

the rostitutes themselves as a sin!off.

4gly stuff, ugly enough to give her a shiver of distaste. 0ut Nash had been right. &t woulddefinitely whi u both interest and sales and that would lease him, at any rate,

whatever damage it did to theHerald's reutation.. .

6ver the course of the day, the sell of un!seasonal sunshine gave way to a real winterbli//ard. he fierce weather battered the Heraldbuilding all day, hail following snow,

turning eventually to enduring sleet.

Chris was dee in work by the time the banging of doors outside announced that five!

thirty had come round, and eole were starting to leave. # skeleton staff of coy!takers


13/91

was coming in to man the hones and telerinters overnight. he final (late' edition of the

Heraldwas being rinted, and it was as though the entire building had let its sense of

urgency out in a long, tired sigh.#cknowledging her own weariness, Chris made a final note on the ad at her side, and

leaned back in her chair with a yawn. he snow was still sweeing across the distant

river, and the rosect of trudging home through the foul weather was hardly aealing.Her father's "over was arked in the garage at home. *he seldom used it, anyway, but she

was wishing she hadn't decided to get the bus today, of all days.

*he sat u with a start as her door swung oen to admit Nash, carrying a large, flat objectwraed in brown aer.

(-ood,' he grunted, shooting her one of his glittering black looks, (you're still here.'

(*till earning my kee,' she said with well!ractised sweetness. he silk suit which

hugged his owerful shoulders was sattered with snow. (0een shoing+'(ou could say that.' He towered over her, making her office suddenly seem a si/e too

small.'&f she could read that rugged face, it was wearing an eression of satisfaction.

(How's the #nderson assignment going+'

(& tracked him down this morning,' she said with just a hint of smugness. (&'m going out tothe gorge to interview him tomorrow afternoon.'

He grunted. (#nd the "ansome *treet business+'(*haing u,' she acknowledged. (&'ve soken to several eole today, and it looks as

though ublic oinion is coming u to the boil. here's definitely going to be a lot of

feedback to the first set of stories, enough, &'d guess, to warrant sreading theinvestigation over two issues.'

His eyes warmed. (-ood,' was all he said3 but Chris felt her whole body tingle with the

imact of his aroval. Why did he affect her so acutely+

He hefted the big, flat ackage on to her desk. (&'ve been waiting a long time for this,ardley.' *he watched in u//lement as he tore the brown!aer wraing off.

"evealed was a ainting. Chris slid her glasses off to stare at the owerfully modern

comosition5 an elosion of white light, fragmented and da//ling, against an arc ofdeeest midnight blue. &t was almost bright enough to hurt the eyes, a ainting that had an

immediate, unforgettable imact.

(What is it+' she asked in awe.(*uorting local artists is one of the duties of a newsaer editor,' he smiled. (&t's a

"oger -auld. 6ne of his best.'

he ainting wasn't her taste. # work of genius it might be, but she referred her d


14/91

(&n a modern art gallery, it would be lovely,' she said with an effort at sincerity. (0ut in

here it's a bit like "achmaninov at full volume.'

(2actly,' he said, looking at the icture through thick, dark lashes. (*omeone has toimrove your taste. ou can't send the rest of your life training your ersonality around

aintings of kittens laying with balls of wool.'

(& do rather refer reresentational art,' she said in a tight little voice, her temer strainingat its moorings after the kittens jibe. He had been very scornful about the way the office

had been furnished reviously. ()readfully old!fashioned, & know, but there it is.'

His eyes were mocking. (ou ought to be flattered, you little hilistine. -ive it time.' Heglanced at his watch as though she hadn't soken. (&t's getting on for si. Come on, &'ll

take you home.'

(&'d rather take the bus,' she assured him, wishing to -od she could win an argument

against him for once in her life.(here's a bli//ard out there,' he ointed out. (#nd besides, there's a bus!drivers' strike.'

(6h, no7' *he eered out of the window in dismay, to see a familiar red shae trundle

through the slushy traffic down below. (here are still buses running,' she accused

susiciously.(0ut not to Woodside. 0uses to Woodside are cancelled.' *he stared at his tanned,

eressionless face. Was he teasing her+ (6h, come on,' he said elosively as shehesitated. (ou're not that terrified, are you+'

(What should & be terrified of+' she said defensively.

(6f sending a car!ride alone with me.'*he thought of #nita ?laus, and felt a s$uirt of venom along her veins. (No, &'m not

terrified,' she said in a carefully balanced voice, scooing u her coat with suressed

tension. '&'m ready to go.'

His normally imerious mouth was twitching at the corners as he ushered her through theemtying newsroom and into the deserted assage. (ell me something,' he commanded,

(when are you going to forgive me for making theHeralday+'

*he gave him a sour look, and he took her arm, his laughter dee and sey. he contactwith his hard, warm body swelled her ulses di//ily as the blood seemed to rush through

her veins. -od, he had something. # ower, a magnetism, call it what you will. *ickened

to discover that she wasn't immune, she ulled away from him with a racing heart. Coal!black eyes as dee as chasms studied her. (ou're very jumy.'

(:ust laying safe,' she snaed, unwisely. (6h+' 6ne eyebrow tilted dangerously. (What

eactly does that mean+'

(Nothing,' she muttered. &f #nita ?laus hadn't been on her mind, she'd never have saidanything so stuid. 0ut it had been lodged in her thoughts like a oisoned dart, festering.

(& know that meaningful tone of voice,' he challenged, a whole terrifying octave lower.

(*it it out.'(Why should & bother you with my girlish fears and fancies+' she en$uired sweetly.

(#nyway, they say brunettes are flavour of the month.'

hat stare was awesome. (ardley7 ou've been listening to office gossi.'(& suose you were really removing a iece of dust from her eye,' Chris suggested drily.

(No,' he said calmly. (here wasn't any dust in her eye. Her need was!shall we say, more

ersonal.'


15/91

*he couldn't meet his eyes for the ain and anger inside. (Well, if you insist on kissing

#nita ?laus at the office, you'll have to ut u with office gossi.' Her tone and e

ression were icy, but he seemed unimressed.hey aused to ick u the late edition of the aer from the bo in the foyer. he ink

was so fresh that it stained Chris's fingers. *he unfolded her coy, and stared at the front!

age headline. he main news of the day was of a growing national industrial crisis, setto blossom over the net few days. #rticles around the main story dealt with the imact

the situation was likely to have on local life. he rest of the front!age news was local,

the stories continuing over on to ages two and three. # good, interesting front age.*he followed Nash through the driving snow to the sleek green "olls!"oyce Camargue

that always stood in his secial bay outside the Heraldbuilding. *he flied through the

aer in silence as he eased the luurious car through the tangled traffic of the town

centre, ast the cathedral, towards Woodside. #s if indifferent to her lack ofconversation, he slid a tae into the stereo, and the calm, sweet strains of a 8o/art iano

concerto filled the leather and walnut interior.

he fact that the concerto was one of her own best!loved favourites only made her

smoulder all the more. How could a barbarian like Nash end u choosing the sort ofmusic that sread fingers of ecstasy across her soul+

(Home must be rather emty these days,' he observed laconically, hands sure at the bigwheel. ()o you ever get lonely out there in the sticks+'

(*ometimes,' she said, then regretted the admission immediately.

(ou could always sell the house. &t would fetch a tidy sum, &'d guess. hen you couldmove into a flat, closer to the bright lights.'

(& love the house,' she said irritably, folding the aer away. )amn it, everything he said

seemed to rub on her nerves7 (& grew u there.'

(ake in a lodger,' he suggested, accelerating bloodthirstily through a ga in the traffic.(How about me+'

(& think not,' she said tersely. (&'m not the landlady tye.'

(&'m teasing, ardley.' He hummed along with the slow movement for a while, his voicedee and melodious. (Loneliness isn't good for a young woman,' he commented, after a

while. He sounded about as symathetic as a hunk of granite. (ou need more fun.

=riends, arties, nightclubs.'(& don't like nightclubs,' she ground out. (#nd & have all the friends & want.' (&ncluding

men friends+'

*he glanced at his rocky rofile sharly. He was getting ersonal, and it disturbed her.

(hat really isn't your business.' Which was obviously water off a duck's back, becauseNash merely moved on to another $uestion.

(6f course,' he mused to himself, (there's your grandmother. ou're very close to her. 0ut

your mother's in *hroshire now, isn't she+' #nd, when Chris nodded, (*ee much of her+'(Now and then,' she said $uietly, her eyes turning rainy!grey with melancholy. *he hadn't

been close to her mother since the rotracted divorce battle that had occuied most of her

siteenth year. Her mother, now re!married and living in *hroshire, hadn't even comedown for )ad's funeral.

(Now and then,' he reeated, sounding almost as though he itied her. (hat's hardly a

family relationshi.'


16/91

Chris glanced at him, taken aback at his aarently encycloaedic curiosity about her life.

(& didn't think your staff interested you this much,' she ventured, tucking one leg under

her to turn in the leather seat and face him.(Not usually,' he commented obli$uely. (0ut you're something secial, aren't you+'

*he didn't ask him to elaborate. #n elaboration might have been acutely embarrassing,

anyway.(#nd your stefather+' he ressed on. ()oes he take an interest+'

(& don't see why he should,' she arried the $uestion.

(Well, if & had a stunningly beautiful daughter living alone, & might take a little notice ofher.'

(Charles and 8um have their own life,' she said tiredly. *he was ast being hurt by their

lack of concern for her, not any more.

#t the traffic lights he favoured her with a slow glance, then accelerated forward again.()o you miss your father badly+'

(& don't really want to talk about it,' Chris said, coolly drawing the line, if you don't mind.'

Nash smiled, showing those ecellent teeth again. (& don't mind. ou should never be of!

fended at anything & do or say. & just wonder whether it galls you to see me sitting in yourfather's seat, so to seak.'

'6f course not,' she said, too $uickly.(2ven though &'m changing his life's work+'

(# newsaer isn't a static thing,' she said tonelessly. (&t has to change and adat if it's to

survive.'He laughed softly. Nash was far too intelligent to miss the fact that she was $uoting his

own words back at him verbatim, with an eerienced reorter's memory. (hen why do &

get the imression that you're working against me, instead of with me+'

(&'m doing my best to work for you,' she said ointedly.He icked that nuance u, too. =or a tough man, he was astonishingly good at icking u

even her most delicate hints. (0ut & won't let you make a full contribution+' he suggested.

(& ignore your efforts to sto me from changing theHerald. "ight+'(ou're making this newsaer ay for the first time in years,' Chris said, her tone

careful. (We're all behind you. 0ut sometimes it might be aroriate to give

consideration to members of staff who have, shall we say, a little more eerience oflocal conditions.'

(Who have, shall we say, a lemming!like desire to see the Herald sink back into the

obscurity it so richly deserved,' he retorted. 0ut he didn't seem articularly annoyed, and

by his eression he was waiting for more.(& agree with you' *he stoed, corrected herself. (We all agree with you that there's a

lace for the Heraldin this town. #n imortant lace. 0ut not necessarily as a huge

commercial success.'(#s a weekend gossi!rag+' he suggested. ("eorting the results of last weekend's live!

stock shows+'

(#s a local aer,' she said, emhasising the word. hey were rehearsing an argumentwhich had been thrashed out several times already in different contets. &n her own mind,

she saw it as chi!chiing away at a granite slab. 2ventually, you might get some!

where. 2ventually. (&t's a mistake to think that the influence of the Herald can be

measured in circulation figures,' she said. (9eole ass coies around, from erson to


17/91

erson and from family to family. hey value it for the solid facts in it. *olid facts and

solid names.' *he looked at him. (heHeraldhas maintained a very fine tradition in this

town, Nash. &t's imortant. 9eole rely on it to hel them form sound oinions. hey likeit because it mentions their names, and rints hoto!grahs of them.'

He grunted, but didn't interrut.

(8y father never bothered about sensationalism,' she went on, her voice just a little un!steady now. (hat didn't mean he couldn't raise hell if he thought something needed

raising hell about. 0ut he resected eole, and eole resected him. hat's what local

journalism is all about.'(>uite a seech,' he said softly. (How much of that is *am ardley, and how much is

your own+'

(ou never knew him,' she answered, just as $uietly. (8aybe that's a ity. radition!ally'

(ou know,' he muttered, (that's a word &'m growing sick of the sound of.'(raditionally,' she reeated, (eole have bought theHeraldfor certain secific reasons.

ou're asking them to buy it for very different reasons.'

He growled. (Well, we're going to break with tradition. We're going to make the Herald

the most eciting rag in this county.' He swung the big car around the crescent. (Look, &resect your oinions, of course & do. #nd & like to think that &'m continuing the best art

of the Herald tradition!in my own way. 0ut times have changed, girl. Costs have risenenormously, you know that.'

(es, but1'

(our father made some very serious mis!takes with the aer,' he said harshly. (Cuttingback to two issues a week was articularly stuid. &t meant that the resses were only

being used eight times a month, reducing theHerald's rofitability even further. &t wasn't

costing much less to rint, and he was selling far fewer coies.'

Chris sat in a bitter silence. When he at!tacked her dead father like this, it made her reallyhate him. Who on earth was he to call. )ad stuid+

(*elling coies is what it's all about,' he went on. (hat comes before selling advertising,

or anything else. We just don't have any choice. his aer still isn't out of the red. omake it succeed, we need to eand our readershi raidly and ermanently. We have to

comete with the nationals. & know you hate the bingo and the colour sulement!and &

susect you secretly even desise your own Wednesday "eview.' *he looked down,ashamed of his insight. (0ut they all sell coies,' he said, more gently. (*urely you

understand that+'

(Well, & may not have your iron gras of high finance,' she told him in a voice like the

finest wine vinegar. (0ut then & do have the slight advantage of having lived here all mylife, and having seen my family run theHeraldever since & was a baby.'

(*are me the suerior tone,' he growled.

Chris changed tack. Nash had savaged his way to the to via the streets, and was wellknown to detest being atronised by the socially advantaged. (Nash, & do have some

insights into the situation. &n my oinion, it would be a very serious mistake to try and

ush theHeraldtoo far.'(oo far+' He snorted, even more bull!like. (& haven't even ushed it out of its grave yet7'

(8aybe it should have been left to lie there.' *he folded her arms, her eyes bright with

anger. (8aybe the correct aroach would have been to contract the aer, not eand it.'


18/91

(he correct aroach is to make theHeraldmake money,' Nash retorted brus$uely. (&'m

not asking you to sell your souls, for -od's sake. &'m asking you to have a little vision. o

work a lot harder. o reach after some!thing beyond your gras.'(Like rostitution around "ansome *treet+'

(6h, come.' here was a hint of brute muscle under the *avile "ow tailoring. (&f you want

me to take the Wednesday "eview away from you, just say so.'(& don't,' she said $uietly.

(-ood. our father sent his life ouring money into a bottomless well. &t ruined him. &t

killed him. he key to a successful news!aer is a healthy circulation, and there's noother way.'

(*o you kee telling us.' 0ut there were other viewoints. Her eyes, a luminous shade

between grey and violet, were bitter. *he droed the toic, recognising a dead!end when

she saw one, and sat in silence, feeling all twisted u inside. 0eing with Nash tangled heremotions ainfully, like the tangled shrouds of a arachute, and with the same end result!

a very nasty fall. He just wasn't amenable to ersuasion. 8aybe it was time she looked

around for another job, and cut Nash, theHerald, and everything connected with them

out of her life...

He drove on in a thoughtful silence until the "olls was turning down Woodside #venue,a street of solid, attractive houses facing the dark mass of the forest.

(:ust dro me at the corner,' she invited. (&t's no trouble.'

(Here will do fine,' she insisted.(#re you afraid the neighbours will think &'m your sugar!daddy+' he smiled, driving down

the avenue anyway.

(ou're not old enough to be my sugar!daddy,' she said without thinking.

(our lover, then.'*he cursed herself for flushing at his wickedly amused glance. (Whatever. 2ither way,

my reutation couldn't stand the knock.'

(ou're too young to have a reutation.' he age ga between them robably ac!countedfor a lot of their mutual tension. #lthough there were streaks of distinguished grey at

Nash's temles, his hair was thick and dark. he taut ower of his body might make you

guess at a very athletic thirty3 but the deely!incised lines around his eyes and mouth utat least five years on that.

#s soon as he brought the car to a halt outside her green gate, she oened the door hastily

and swung her long, beautiful legs out. &ron fingers bit into her wrist, inning her before

she could escae. (Not so fast,' he growled.(6h, silly me,' she eclaimed, hoing the irony would cover her fluttering nerves at the

contact. (ou'll be wanting your etrol money.'

()on't ush the schoolgirl jokes too far,' he warned, eyes dark as midnight on hers. *hedroed her ga/e, embarrassed. His eyes drifted deliberately down her figure. (&t's high

time we harnessed your full otential,' he said, as if to himself. (ou've been wasted on

the desert air unseen for too long.'(& like a $uiet life,' she had to smile.

(ou're too valuable,' he said flatly. (#nd by the way, &'m not too fussy about what my

staff wear, but are tight ants and a !shirt really aroriate+'


19/91

*he got out irritably. he tailored linen trousers and cotton blouse she'd worn today were

$uite smart enough for ordinary office wear. '&'AA wear a silk dress tomorrow,' she said

shortly, through the oen door.'No,' he decided. (ou're the sort of girl who looks ravishing in jeans, but a little coltish

in a silk dress.'

He reached out and closed the heavy door for her. he "olls urred u the street, and shebarged through her gate and into the house. )amn Canfield, she thought, cuddling the

delighted cat. He knew just how to make her jum.

&n her cream and white bedroom!no ictures of layful kittens in sight, drat you, Nash!she hauled off her blouse and trousers and hoed around the room trying to ull on

corduroys and a woolly jumer at the same time. &t was ast si, and she was due at her

grandmother's for dinner.

*he checked herself in the mirror. *he'd always been blessed with an elegant figure,satin!skinned and slender. *he'd never been heavy3 willowy was the word. Her his were

just wide enough to be fully feminine, and she'd long since stoed worrying that her

breasts might be too small. 8en looked, and when she went bra!less, they stared.

#nd there was something about her figure, a neatness, a unity, that made all hermovements flow gracefully and easily. hat innate grace could transform her good looks

into true beauty on occasions. &t would not have been surrising if Nash!as she now andthen susected!was seually attracted to her. 2cet that Nash's feelings for her was one

of the areas she dwelled on least in her mind. 2ven now, she thrust any such notion out of

her thoughts with vehemence.(Come on, ardley,' she growled in a contralto imitation of her boss's gravelly voice, (get

moving, girl.'

Chris was at her grandmother's house by si!thirty. he old lace was always sotless, all

the anti$ue furniture gleaming.(ou look so lovely, Chrissie.'

Chris kissed her grandmother's cheek. (*o do you, -ran. What's for dinner+'

*he smiled, so like Chris's father that it almost made her wince. (Wait and see. How'swork+'

(2hausting. 0ut it kees me busy.'

(&'m glad to hear it.' *he shot Chris a bright glance. (How's 8r Canfield+'()on't ask,' she said ruefully. (2very hour & can send out of Nash Canfield's comany is

a hay hour as far as &'m concerned.' *he assed her grandmother the late edition of the

Heraldshe'd brought from work. (he latest bee in his bonnet is an investigation of the

ladies of the night along "ansome *treet.'(he rostitutes+' )orothy ut on her glasses to study the front age. (&nteresting,' she

nodded, totally unshocked. (High time someone tackled the $uestion. & shall enjoy

reading that.' Chris's irritated snort made her look u. (#re you still thinking ofresigning+'

(8ore than ever7'

-ran icked u a maga/ine, and folded it oen. (his article might interest you.'Chris studied the article, which was head!lined (Canfield 6n he 8ove'. he black!

andwhite hoto didn't do justice to Nash's comelling looks, but the tet!'one of the most

forceful and thrusting ersonalities on the business scene'!seemed to have caught his


20/91

character accurately. he main toic of the article was Nash's achievement with the

Herald.

(He has transformed a sleey rovincial newsaer into a force to be reckoned with, evenin =leet *treet.'

(How dare they+' she cried indignantly. (heHeraldwas never sleey7'

(es, it was. & like the newHerald,' the old lady said serenely. &t's interesting. #nd & likeCanfield's editorials. He doesn't ull his unches, and he's not afraid to take on any

injustice he sees. hat's good.

(es, but!'(his is a stodgy old town. &t needs waking u. #nd the aer's doing better than it's ever

done.'

(6h, he's very good at making money,' Chris acknowledged irritably. (9rofit comes first

and last.'(Not an unreasonable aroach.'

(No, it isn't unreasonable. &t's just so alien to me.'

(&s that why you're so eager to leave a very good job, with an ecellent salary and

ecellent rosects+' -ran smiled.Chris shook her head, knowing -ran would never understand how ambivalent she felt. (&t

isn't all roses. Nash is very, very hard to work for at times. &t's not easy to watch himtransform the Heraldinto something utterly different, breaking every rule that )ad ever

made.'

(Nothing is ever all roses,' )orothy said atiently. (#t twenty!si, you must have realisedthat, Chris. Nash Canfield has offered the Heralda marvellous chance to survive and

roser'

(#nd & should learn to live with it,' Chris cut in. (eah, & was being told that only

yesterday.'(hen get rid of your mislaced loyalty to *am.'

()ad was a great journalist'

(*am's dead.' -ran's eression was sad. (#nd *am's ways are dead with him. ourallegiance is to Nash Canfield now, not to your father. #nd Nash Canfield is going to be

a greater journalist than your father ever was.'

his time, Chris was really shocked. (-ran7'(Come on.' Her grandmother was terminating the conversation. (Let's eat.' Chris knew

that look on her face3 -ran didn't want any more discussion to dilute the imact of what

she'd just said. *he was suosed to digest, and learn7

With a sigh, she rose to follow.

CH#92" H"22

& W#* robably the cold weather, but also ossibly because Chris had barely used the

car since her father's death. 2ither way, the "over refused oint!blank to start the netmorning.

When the battery started to show signs of going flat, she abandoned it in the garage, and

hurried to get the bus. &t was still snowing, and the journey in to work was anything but


21/91

leasant. 4nder the fawn trenchcoat, her clothes were mainly light linen, and she was

free/ing.

When she finally got in to the Herald, the newsroom was bu//ing with the overnightolitical develoments. he threat of a major industrial wrangle was steadily entangling

the government, the oosition, and the unions.

he story was still breaking, and already it was evident that it was going to dominate theevening edition. hrough his oened door, Chris caught a glimse of Nash's si!foot!si

figure in conference with 0ill Wright, the news editor. *he could almost sense the

uroseful intentness in the man, the aura of stillness around him desite the confusion ofthe newsroom.

Wisely, she ket out of everybody's way until lunch time. here was lenty of back!

ground reading to go through before she faced )uncan #nderson in the afternoon. He'd

had an eventful career.Hearing the continuing uroar from the newsroom, she felt a stab of envy. 9eole out

there were immersed in real journalism. "ushing out on assignments, taing their

network of sources, honing stories in to the coy!takers from call!boes across the

county #nd here she sat, atiently collating her Wednesday "eview. *he sighed. &t wassusiciously like a backwater. 0ut it was journalism, too, of a sort...

0y noon, most of the senior reorters were either out, or working intently on stories.Noting that Nash's office was emty, robably for the first time all morning, she oked

her head through his door.

(8y car's broken down,' she announced. (Can & have a staff car to get out to the gorge+')ark eyes met hers. (&f you come all the way in. #nd ask nicely.'

"eluctantly, she obeyed. (9lease can & have a staff car+'

Nash rose from behind his desk, an affable eression stitched across his tanned face. He

looked stunning in a charcoal suit with a red rose at the lael, and seeing him took herbreath away for a moment. He had...imact.

(What's wrong with the "over+' he en$uired.

(9robably the cold,' she shrugged. He seemed to know everything about her, even themake of her car. (&'ll get the "#C out this evening, but right now & have to go across

country to see )uncan #nderson. & just hoe the snowloughs have got out to the

secondary roads by now.'(& hadn't forgotten.' He dangled something bright in front of her. (ake the "olls. hat

should imress 8r #nderson.'

(&'d rather not7'

(hen you'll have to walk,' he said easily. (#ll the cars are out. &n case you hadn't noticed,the country's teetering on the brink of a national crisis.'

Chris took the keys reluctantly, wondering whether she'd be able to drive Nash's

limousine through the bad weather. (&'ll get it back to you as soon as & can,' she romised.(No rush. &'ll be working late. &'ve a hunch we'll be ulling the resses tonight, anyway.'

He surveyed her with all!male attention to the details of her dress. *he was wearing astel

shades, which suited her flawless comleion erfectly5 a ink linen jacket and grey linentrousers, white silk olo!shirt and silk scarf, lain grey shoes. (ou look ravishing this

morning,' he urred, using his husky voice to bring gooseflesh rickling across her skin.

(rying to seduce 8r #nderson+'

(:ust trying to look neat,' she said, with unnecessary stiffness.


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(ou look very neat. Neat, feminine, cool, and downright infuriating.' *moky eyes

caressed the sweet oval of her face. (here's not a great deal of you, but what there is is

to!$uality stuff.'(he slave is grateful for the master's notice,' she said coolly.

He looked as though he were considering whether that merited a rebuke. (ou really

don't like me, do you, ardley+'(&'d say we don't like each other,' she said, keeing it just this side of imertinence as she

turned away from him.

(Would you, now+' &ron fingers closed round her wrist to ull her back, as he'd done oncebefore. (Would you really say that+'

(&t's true, isn't it+' 0ut her hand was trembling in his gras, her mouth unsteady as she

tried to smile u into the intensity of those dark eyes, that broodingly assionate mouth.

(We haven't got on since the moment you first walked into this building, Nash.'(#nd what would you ut that down to+' he asked, velvety menace in his dee voice.

(& Chemistry, & suose,' she faltered.

(Chemistry.' He was still looking down at her, so close that she could smell his skin, the

faint tang of very, very eensive aftershave. He reached u slowly to touch her softcheek with his fingers, his thumb caressing the sensitive satin of her full lower li.

Whether it was the touch or the eression in his eyes, Chris shuddered hellessly, thicklashes drooing down over eyes that had suddenly become soft as grey mist.

hen, realising that they could be seen through the glass anel in his door, she ulled

away $uickly. &n -od's name, what was the hold Nash had over her+ How could he makeher feel like this, turning her, a highly efficient young woman, into a disorganised,

$uivering mass just by a touch on her lis+

'&'AA see you later,' she said shortly, and ushed through the door.

0ut not before she heard his soft rely. (&'ll be waiting.'Chris was oddly nervous as she ulled u outside the farmhouse, which commanded a

sectacular view of the gorge. *he eered through the windscreen at the large stone

house, its roof white with snow, then checked her hair, and the state of her lightly aliedmake!u. hen, scooing u her heavy leather shoulder!bag, she made her way u to the

house.

he door was oened by a man in a tweed jacket. &t was his eression of tension, morethan the atrician features themselves, that she recognised from the hotograhs she'd

looked at. #art from that, he was a handsome man in his forties, with a rematurely

lined face, and a mane of dark grey hair. #t the sight of her, the creases round his eyes

eased slightly.(8r #nderson+' she greeted him. (Hello. &'m Christine ardley.'

(Come in, come in.' He offered her a warm handshake and a smile that showed good, if

crooked, teeth.he farmhouse was luuriously aointed. # huge log fire was roaring in the old stone

firelace, and a blast of heat greeted her as he led her into the oak!anelled recetion

room.(Let me take your coat,' he offered, reaching for her 0urberry. (8y housekeeer's just

made tea.'

(Lovely,' she said gratefully. He draed her coat over a hook behind the door, then turned

to her, rubbing his hands.


23/91

(*hall we talk in here+ & find the ambience of this room very. . . soothing.'

(&t's a beautiful room,' she agreed, looking around it, and then at him. (Have you stayed

here before+'(6h, many times. & love this art of the world. 8y family used to come down here for

holidays when & was a child. We used to stay in a farmhouse eactly like this one, on the

other side of the gorge.' His eyes were light green, his features handsome in the a$uilineway $uite common in Highland *cots. (*hall we sit by the fire+'

(=ine.' With some hesitation, she took the tae!recorder out of her bag. ()o you object to

my leaving this on+'(& don't think &'ll say anything that much worth reserving,' he said drily, (but use it by all

means.' He held u a hand. (6ne condition, Christine, before we start. ou give me a

ring, referably before galley!roof stage, and read me the tet of your article. &f there's

anything & object to, &'d like to be able to say so then.'(6f course.' *he nodded, studying the handsome face. (ou seem to know some!thing

about newsaers+'

(hey fascinate me,' he said simly. &f & hadn't had the chance of going to the Cinema

#rts College, &'d almost certainly have been a journalist.'(&ndeed+' *he raised delicate eyebrows. (Well, that makes an interesting start, anyway7'

(#s it haens, &'ve just been reading an article about your own new editor.' He icked ua coy of that week's 2conomist. (He seems a fascinating character.'

(He is,' Chris agreed neutrally.

(#n interesting situation for you, & would guess,' #nderson went on. (ou're *amardley's daughter, aren't you+'

(ou're well informed.' Chris couldn't hel smiling.

(:ust guesswork.' He was still watching her with those light green eyes. (&t can't be easy

seeing your father relaced by a man so very different . . .' hankfully, he didn't wait foran answer to that $uestion. (What's he like+ 6ne of these aggressive, ultra!male men+ #ll

androgen and high achievement+'

(Well,' Chris hesitated, half!amused by the descrition, (that's a little crude. Nash is avery comlicated man. He's always about ten stes ahead of you, and he has a brilliant,

incisive mind. 0ut yes, he is a high achiever.'

(What's it like working at the newHerald+'(;ery stimulating,' she said, and left it at that. 0ut he shook a warning forefinger at her.

(No, no7 & really want to know. 0efore & let you into my life, Christine, & want to know a

little more about you.'

(Well1' *he hesitated, rather leased than otherwise by the great man's interest in her.(9eole used to say that Nash had thrown the baby out with the bathwater. 0ut the

Herald's erformance over the ast half!year has been a very effective answer to his

critics. &t's like...' *he hunted for an aroriate image. (...like seeing an old shi rescuedfrom the knacker's yard, stried down to the bone, and then comletely rebuilt. 8aybe

the new colours are too bright on the eye, and maybe the new materials don't $uite match

the old atina!but there's no $uestion but that she's a going concern again.'(#nd for her crew,' #nderson suggested, (that means redemtion.'

(es. hat, too.'

he housekeeer came in with tea and bis!cuits, and #nderson invited her to do the

honours.


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(ou interest me,' he said uneectedly, as she assed him a teacu. &t didn't seem to call

for a rely, so she just looked at him en$uiringly. (8y eeriences with lady journalists

haven't always been hay ones. & wouldn't have enjoyed this meeting if you'd turned outto be some grim!faced harridan7'

(6h, & hoe &'m not that,' she smiled.

(& can see that you're not,' he said, stirring his tea. (o tell the truth, when you said youwere an editor, my heart sank. & had a vision of some high!achieving, hard!nosed,

masculine woman. hat tye makes me feel so threatened. 8aybe &'m just a chauvinist,

but you never seem to meet truly feminine women these days. ou're a delightfulchange.'

*he laughed. (& have to confess, & like achieving very much, 8r #nderson. & may turn out

to be the hardest!nosed harridan you've ever met7'

(Not with that face.' His eyes were lu!minous. (our soul lives in that face, Chris. *weet,gentle, humorous3 deely and irrevocably feminine7'

(Well7' she said, secretly delighted at the over!the!to comliment. (&'m sure you're very

kind to say so, but'

His bark of laughter interruted her. (ou wouldn't be used to eole saying things likethat to you, & suose+'

(Not in the course of work, at any rate,' she smiled.(ou'll get used to my ways,' he assured her. (&'m not a erson who can hold my feelings

back. 2ver. & have to seak my mind, always, whenever the mood takes me. #nd & do

tend to seak my mind rather frankly, &'m afraid.'(&t's an admirable trait, really,' Chris as sured him. *he was thinking that )uncan's

antiathy towards aggressive women robably elained a great deal of his shyness with

in terviewers. @ara @offany, the heroine of Starfire, she remembered, had been a gentle,

wide!eyed, seventeen year old. &n fact, all the women in his films tended to be sweetlyfeminine, docile women. *he steered him gently towards the interview she wanted. (ou

said you loved this art of the world. ou come here to rela, then+'

(2actly. & come here, or to somewhere like this, ever' coule of years. 8y work haensto be articularly ehausting, and & need to submerge myself in tran$uillity...'

)iscreetly, she switched on the tae!recorder, and drew her notead towards her. he

tae was for back!u only. he real essence of the interview would lie in her verbatimshorthand notes.

He was talking volubly now, eyes bright and always on the move, evidently a erson who

lived on his nerves. #ny fears she'd had that he would be reticent disaeared. He clearly

enjoyed talking about his work, and it soon became obvious that this was the sort ofinterview which wouldn't need much steering from her3 he was erfectly content to ask

his own $uestions, and then answer them with sometimes unsettling frankness.

*he found herself wondering whether he was really going to let her rint some of thethings he was telling her, when she read the final coy back to him. However, that was a

stile to cross later.

wo hours and three cus of tea later, he seemed to be talked out. He had given her afascinating r


25/91


26/91

years. =or all their hard!bitten cynicism, Chris would always be their et, whoever was at

the helm, and whatever haened to theHerald.

(*am would have been roud today,' someone said, and Chris nodded.(es, & think he would,' she said seriously. (&t's a very imressive edition.'

imothy 8iller stretched his lanky arms over his head. (0ut it's a long, long way from

*am's style,' he said, scratching his iron!grey hair. (Working with Nash this ast week hasbeen a revelation to me. &t's more like working for one of the big nationals than for the

oldHerald...'

He had echoed Chris's own earlier thoughts. imothy had worked in London for severalyears before coming back to theHerald, and knew what he was talking about. His eyes

met hers, and aarently mistook her thoughtfulness for hurt.

(&'m not decrying *am, Christine,' he said gently. (&'m just saying that Nash is a different

breed. He has another kind of brilliance.'(& know what you mean,' Chris said easily. 0ut she was surrised. 0rilliant+ imothy

8iller had been one of Nash's fiercest oonents at first. Was he, too, being won over by

the Canfield charisma at last+

*omeone took her arm. &t was om *hoals, tall, bearded and always smiling. (Can & see

you after the weekend, Chris, about this "ansome *treet story+ 0ob and & have someideas we'd like to kick around for the Wednesday section.'

(No roblem. We'll have a conference before the lay!out goes to Nash's table on

uesday.' *he shot him a wry glance. (&t isn't all going to be too sordid, is it+'om grinned wickedly. (&t'll blow your socks off,' he romised, not reassuring her in the

slightest.

(We're going for a drink at the -raes,' imothy announced, slinging his jacket over his

shoulder. Whatever he felt about Nash's new style, he was too set in his ways by now tocome to work in anything other than a suit. (#re you coming+'

(Not tonight,' she said regretfully, and watched them troo out, the day's ecitement still

vibrant in their voices.*he walked to Nash's office, and looked through the glass anel. He was standing at the

window, hands linked behind his back aarently just staring out at the snowy landscae.

His Nelson ose3 she smiled to herself.*he taed, then ushed the door oen. (&'ve brought the keys to your "olls back,' she

said $uietly, not wanting to disturb his reverie.

He didn't look round, just asked, (How did you get on with #nderson+'

(Like a house on fire,' she said. (&'ve had a lovely afternoon. He's a fascinatingersonality.'

Nash turned, his face tightening so $uickly she thought she'd said something wrong for a

moment.'&s that so+' he rased. (Well, well. & trust your article will reflect more than cosy

chumminess.'

(& trust so, too,' she said, using a cold voice to mask her surrise at his reaction. (&'ll domy best, anyway.' *he showed him the hoto!grah )uncan had given her. (He says we

can use this. He's very handsome, isn't he+'

Nash handed the icture back to her without comment, but his eression was anything

but warm.


27/91

"ather nervously, she asked, (When do you want the article+'

He moved to his desk urosefully, reaching for a sheaf of aers. &f the day's efforts had

ut a strain on him, it wasn't showing!ecet maybe in his bad mood. (Can you show mesomething by hursday+' he asked, not looking u at her.

(&f you give me till =riday,' she suggested, '&'AA have more to work with. &'m seeing him

again on hursday night.'(What for+' he asked sharly, eyes lifting to imale her.

(here was just so much to talk about.' "ealising that her tone was almost aologetic, she

brought herself u shortly. )on't cringe to him, ardley. (Can you give me till then+' sheasked, keeing it natural.

(& don't see why one interview shouldn't be $uite sufficient,' he said grimly, still watching

her. (He's no genius.'

(He's a very brilliant artist,' she said, sur!rised again, and starting to get a little annoyed.(& want to do him justice, Nash.'

# grim scowl crossed his assionate mouth. (& don't ay you to roduce great literature.

ime is money, ardley3 did your father never teach you that+'

(& could do a much better article if you gave me the time,' she said stiffly. (hat's all.'(What the hell7' he said with insulting bad humour. (&f you insist, you can have until

=riday. #fter which & have lenty more for you to chew on!so get the #nderson articleout of the way.'

&t was an effort to kee her voice gracious. (hank you. &'ll get it finished as soon as &

can.' rying to recover her recent feelings of warmth towards him, which had just nowcooled raidly, Chris lifted her edition of the Herald slightly. (his is an absolutely

stunning edition, Nash. & think it's the most ecitingHerald&'ve ever seen.'

He stared at her hard for a long moment, so hard that she almost began to susect she'd

said something even more offensive to him. 0ut the sudden smile that lit his dark eyeswas like the sun coming out from storm!clouds. &t seemed to warm the whole room,

making her catch her breath at the sheer magnetism of the man.

(Coming from you,' he said softly, (that's some comliment.'(& may be rejudiced,' she relied, (but &'m not blind to real $uality.' *he had meant it to

sound light!hearted, but somehow it had come out husky and emotional.

he hostility between them was very $uickly becoming something $uite different. #ndsuddenly she was thinking of that touch on her lis this morning. 6f the fact that this was

judged one of the most attractive men around. *uddenly, she was thinking of many

things.

Nash's eyes narrowed to smoky bars, and for a swimming moment she almost felt he wasgoing to ste across the short sace between them, and take her in his arms.

2cet that the door oened at that oint to admit #nita ?laus.

#nita's slanty brown eyes flicked from one to the other. (*orry, Nash. )idn't know youwere busy. Hello, Chris,' she added with a sweetness that didn't ring very sincere. (#ren't

you fro/en in that outfit+'

(&'m fine,' Chris said coolly.#nita bared her very white teeth, her art!fully tumbled mane of tawny hair giving her a

carnivorous, leonine look. '& can come back later,' she said to Nash, not moving.

(hat's all right,' Nash invited. (What did you want to see me about+'


28/91

With another Chinese!sauce glance at Chris!very sweet and sour!#nita sread some

aers on the desk in front of him. (We're having rather an argument with one of our

clients,' she said, and launched into the comle advertising issue.#nita ?laus was one erson to whom Chris ardley was definitely not a et. #nd never

had been. hree or four years older than Chris, she'd always made it $uite clear that Chris

was nothing secial in her eyes, no matter who her father was. 2ven during *amardley's time, she had always eected Chris to knuckle under whenever their aths

crossed in the line of work. =ortunately, that was very seldom.

#nd she was very retty. Watching her standing net to Nash's otent figure was enoughto send green demons of jealousy clawing along Chris's nerveways.

(&'m afraid you're going to have to re!draft the whole thing tonight,' Nash said, sounding a

damned sight more symathetic to #nita than he ever was to Chris. &t's a ity, but there's

no way round it.'#nita gave Nash a bright, direct smile. (Nothing & can't handle.' *he was standing

unnecessarily close beside him, looking over his shoulder at the aers. '&'AA get it done,'

she assured him.

Chris was tugging at the silk scarf round her slender neck, a sure sign of rising temer.

Nash never aologised to her when heaing the work on to her late7 How well they wenttogether, Nash's ower and #nita's lithe seiness. )amn7 *he couldn't get the image of

them kissing out of her mind, and it burned there like a coal on tender skin.

Was #nita already Nash's lover+ )id they send the nights together, locked in assion+8aybe her resence here was interruting a torrid scene between Nash and #nita. Like

what had haened the other night. 6h, damn...

(Well, &'d better be toddling along,' Chris said tightly, suddenly very keen to get out of

this orchid!house atmoshere.Nash sent her a commanding glance. (Wait a moment.' He leaned over his desk, sorting

through the aers, a owerfully male figure comletely at home in the ultra!modern

setting of his office.-ritting her teeth, Chris sat the remainder of the conversation out. he way #nita's arm

ket brushing Nash's, as though by accident, infuriated her. Why didn't Nash move away

when she ressed against him+#nd her blood!ressure went u another ten notches when #nita, dearting, said sweetly

to Nash, (ou haven't forgotten our s$uash date on *aturday, Nash+'

(No,' he confirmed, (&'m looking forward to it.' #nd his mouth creased in one of those

room!warming smiles, directed eclusively at #nita. Who sent Chris a look of sheermalice, nodded briskly, and left.

Chris was seething as she waited imatiently to see what Nash wanted of her.

4neectedly, he lifted two crystal glasses out of a drawer, and a bottle of 0ushmills.(&t's been a long, hard cold day,' he said, ouring a shot of the amber li$uid into each of

the glasses. (Here.'

*he took the heavy glass reluctantly. (&s this whisky+' she asked.Contemt at her ignorance lifted an eyebrow. (&t's a twenty!year!old single malt,' he

informed her. '*ant


29/91

cough. his was the sort of whisky her father had loved, and she knew enough not to ask

for water to mi with it. Nash watched arovingly as she drained the glass, feeling the

warmth sread through her veins. (What did you want me for+' she asked hoarsely,setting the glass down.

(:ust to give you a lift home,' he said innocently, scooing u some aers and sliding

them into his leather briefcase. &t's dark and snowing, and your car's not working.'(& could $uite easily have caught the bus,' she said stiffly, and breathed whisky!fumes.

(& haven't caught a bus in fifteen years,' Nash smiled, and shrugged on what was clearly a

very eensive sheeskin coat. He looed a scarf round his neck, suddenly lookingdevastatingly male. (Let's go.'

(& think &'d rather catch the bus, after all,' she decided, hating his suerior air.

(8ake a little sacrifice, for my sake. &t'll do you good,' he said, the laconic delivery belied

by the glint in his eyes. (When you start climbing the cororate ladder, you'll traveleverywhere in a white 0entley, swilling 0ushmills by the bottle.'

he humour didn't ease the rankling hurt #nita had left in her. (& still think1'

He took her arm in strong fingers. (here are a damn sight too many chiefs round here,'

he said silkily, (and not enough indians. Let's go.'#s they walked into the foyer, Nash glanced at her set eression. (here doesn't seem to

be much love lost between you and 8iss Claws,' he suggested mildly.(We never got on,' Chris said shortly, (even before '

(0efore what+' he asked as her sentence ground to a sudden halt.

'We just never got on. 0ut she's a very good saleswoman.'(6h, that suerior air,' Nash smiled, noting her slight emhasis on the last word. (When

are you going to shed all those old!fashioned literary notions, and start getting some

resect for the money!making side of running a newsaer+'

(&'m learning,' she said shortly. he whisky was swimming along her veins, making her alittle light!headed. (#nd & can see that you areciate #nita's!$ualities.'

(6h, & do,' Nash commented smoothly. (*he's a real asset to the aer, and she's not

eactly hard to look at, either.' He shot her a wicked glance. (6f course, she doesn't haveyour finesse.'

(ou mean &'m insiid net to her+' Chris challenged with a stab of bitterness.

He grinned at her like a tiger contemlating its breakfast. (ou said that, ardley, not me.&s it still snowing+'

&t was indeed still snowing, so hard that the towering sire of the cathedral was barely

visible through the veils of dancing flakes. 2ven the avements were virginal, the day's

footstes having already been filled by fresh, clean snow.&t was bitterly cold, but the "olls was still warm inside.

(*o tell me about )uncan #nderson,' Nash invited as he drove out of the arking bay.

(What made him so marvellous+''6h..+ *he leaned back. (He's very sensitive. #n artist to his fingertis. ou sense that at

once, as soon as he starts talking. He's very much..+ *he searched for the words. ( ...very

much in touch with himself.'(&n touch with himself, eh+' Nash grunted. (&'ve heard him described as vain and selfish.'

(hat's silly,' she laughed. (*omeone who knew nothing about art or artists might say

that. When you talk to him, you realise just how different he is from the ordinary man.'

(How, different+'


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(He has vision,' she said dreamily. (He has a kind of intuitive symathy with things!

almost an animal $uality, though he's the most civilised man & think &'ve ever met.'

("eally,' Nash said $uietly.(#nd yet he's a arado,' she went on, warming to the descrition, anticiating some of

the things she would say in her article. '0e!cause although his medium is so highly

technological, )uncan himself is a true humanist. He's a remarkable erson.'(hank you,' Nash said drily. (& think & get the icture, now.' he heavy car slithered in

the fresh snow, and he cursed under his breath as he corrected the skid. (& take it the

admiration was mutual+' he went on grimly.(es, & think he liked me.' hinking of #nita, Chris shot Nash a look of $uiet triumh. (&

know he liked me. & understood him. He told me that was rare.'

*he thought she saw an eression of sheer anger cross his face for a moment, but she

couldn't be certain. (2ver heard the fable about the big fish in the little ond+' he askedsmoothly.

(ou think &'m too imressed by )uncan+'

(ou've led a very sheltered life,' he said obli$uely. (#fter all, )uncan,' he mimicked her

familiar use of his first name, (is the first film director you've ever met.'(Starfirewas one of the very best films of the year,' she bridled. (He's an international

success7'(eah5 He ulled the "olls u outside her house, and turned to her. (:ust get the article

written,' he said forcefully, (an

Madeleine Ker - Takeover

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Transcript of Madeleine Ker - Takeover