“For once Benedict will hold the top cards. He won’t be able to dislodge you from the management of the company, because Tracey will support you as she always has done - but he will be able to watch every move you make from his seat on the Board of Directors. He will be able to hound you, bring you and the Company down without suffering financial loss himself.
And when you fall - you know better than to expect mercy from him.
You will be devoured by the ogre you have created.”
“Created?”
Johnny’s voice was shocked. “What do you mean?”
“You turned him into what he is now. You broke his heart, made him weak and useless ”
“You are crazy.” Johnny came to his feet. “I have never done anything to
Benedict. It was he who-” But the Old Man’s husky croak brushed aside
Johnny’s protests. “He tried to run with you - but could not. He gave up, became small and vicious. Oh, I know about the way he is - how you made him.” Please, listen to me. I did not-” But the Old Man went on remorselessly. “Tracey also, you have ruined her life. You enslaved her, in your sin-” “That night!” Johnny shouted at him. “You never let me explain. We never-” Now the Old Man’s voice was a whiplash.
“Silence!” And Johnny could not defy him, the habit was too deeply engrained. The Old Man was trembling, his eyes glittering with passion. “Both my children! You have plagued me and my family. My son is a weak-willed drifter, trying to hide his hurt in a hunt for pleasure. I have given him the instruments to destroy you, and when he does so perhaps he will become a man.” The Old Man’s voice was strained now, rusty and painracked. He swallowed with an effort, his throat convulsing but there was no softening of the glitter in his eyes.
“My daughter also, torturned by her lust. A lust which you awakened - she also seeks an escape from her guilty passion. Your destruction will be her release.”
“You’re wrong,” Johnny cried out, half in protest, half in entreaty. “Please, let me explain-“
“This is how it will work. I have made you vulnerable, linking you to a crippled and foundering enterprise. This time we will be rid of you.”
He stopped to pant quickly, like a running dog. His breathing was strangled, harsh-sounding.
“Benedict will cut you down, and Tracey will have to watch you go.
She cannot help you, her inheritance is carefully tied up, she has no control of the capital. Your only hope is the Kingfisher. The Kingfisher will turn into a vampire and suck your life blood! You asked why I was systematically transferring the assets of Van Der Byl Diamonds to my other companies? Well, now you know the answer.”
Johnny’s lips moved. He was very pale. His voice came out small and whispery.
“I could refuse to sign the guarantee.” The Old Man smiled bleakly, a drawing back of the lips that was without warmth or humour.
“You will sign it.” His voice was wheezy. “Your pride and conceit will not let you do otherwise. You see, I know you.
I’ve studied you all these years. But if you refuse to sign the guarantee, I will still have smashed you. Your shares will go to Benedict. You will be out. Out! Gone! We will be finished with you at last.” Then his voice dropped, “But you will sign. I know it.”
Involuntarily Johnny lifted his hands towards the Old Man, a gesture of supplication. “In all this time. When I stayed with you, when I-” His voice went husky and dried up. “Did you never feel anything for me - anything at all?” The Old Man sat up in his chair. He seemed to regain his bulk and he began to smile. He spoke quietly now, he did not have to shout.
“Get out of my nest, Cuckoo. Get out and fly!” he said.
Slowly Johnny’s expression changed, the line of his jaw hardened, thrusting out aggressively. His shoulders went back. He pushed his hands into his pockets, balling his fists into bony liters.
He nodded once in understanding.
“I see.” He nodded again, and then he started to grin. It was an unconvincing grin, that twisted his mouth out of shape and left his eyes dark and haunted.
“All right, you mean old bastard, I’ll show you.” He turned and walked from the room without looking back.
The Old Man’s expression lit in deep satisfaction. He chuckled, then his breath caught. He began to cough, and the pain ripped his throat with a violence that left him clinging weakly to the edge of his desk.
He felt the crab of death move within his flesh, sinking its claws more deeply into his throat and lungs - and he was afraid.
He called out in his pain and fear, but there was nobody in the old house to hear him.
-Kingfisher was launched in August and ran her trials in the North Sea. Benedict was aboard, by the Old -.&Man’s express command.
With a vessel of such complexity, and of such revolutionary design, it would have been a miracle had she functioned perfectly. August that year was not the month for miracles. At the end of the trials Johnny had compiled a list of twenty-three modifications that were necessary.
“How long?” he asked the representative of the shipyard.
“A month.“The reply was hesitant.
“You mean two,” said Benedict and laughed out loud.
Johnny looked at him thoughtfully, he guessed that the Old Man had spoken to him.
“I’ll tell you something, Johnny.” Benedict was still laughing.
“I’m glad this cow isn’t my dream of paradise.” Johnny froze. Those words were the Old Man’s, repeated parrot fashion. It was all the confirmation that he needed.
Johnny flew back to Cape Town to find his creditors on the verge of mutiny. They wanted to sell out, and take the loss.
Johnny spent two whole precious days on Larsen’s wine farm at Stellenbosch calming his fears. When Fifi Larsen, twenty years younger than her husband, squeezed Johnny’s thigh under the lunch table he knew it would be all right for another two months.
During the next hectic, strength-sapping week of argument and negotiation, Johnny made time to see Tracey.
She had been out of the nursing-home for a month now, staying with friends on a small farm near Somerset West.
When Johnny climbed out of the Mercedes, and Tracey came down from the stoop to greet him, he had his first real lift of pleasure in a long time.
“God,“he said. “You look great.” She was dressed in a cotton summer dress with open sandals on her feet. Her friends were away for the day, so they walked through the orchards. He studied her openly, noticing how her cheeks and arms had filled out and the colour had come back into them. Her hair was bright and springing with lights in the sun, but there were still the dark smears under her eyes, and she smiled only once when he picked a sprig of peach blossoms for her. She seemed to be afraid of him, and unsure of herself.
At last he faced her and placed his hands on her shoulders. “All right. What’s eating you up It came out in a quick staccato rush of words.
“I want to thank you for coming to find me. I want to explain why I was - like that. In that state. I don’t want you to believe - well, bad things about me.”
“Tracey, you don’t have to explain to me.”
“I want to. I must.” And she told him, not looking at his face, twisting and tearing the blossoms in her hands.
“You see, I didn’t understand, I thought all men were like that.
Not wanting, I mean not doing it-” She broke off, and started again.
“He was kind, you understand. And there were lots of parties and friends around all the time, every night. Then he wanted to go to London - for his career.
There was not enough scope here. Even then I didn’t know.
Well, I knew he had lots of men friends and that some of them were different - but … Then I went to his studio and found them, and they laughed, Kenny and the boy twined together like snakes. “But you must have known,” he said.
Something just snapped in my head, I felt spoiled, dirty and horrible and I wanted to die. There was nobody
