the meeting?'
She flashed him one of those slow-burning smiles. `Provided the Beaufort name gets bandied about - that's the important point.'
Ànd you don't care if the horse doesn't win?'
She shrugged. That blouse was deceptively well cut - expensive, no doubt.
The no-nonsense businesswoman turned out to have a heck of a figure.
`That would be nice, of course. But I've heard that some of these horses can be right prima donnas. We don't want one that cries off if it's got a runny nose.'
Malcolm had left the meeting puzzled but intrigued. Beverley couldn't be more than twenty-five yet she treated him like an errant schoolboy. And the headmistress had an agenda, which she eked out over a series of increasingly lavish lunch meetings, paid for with a company charge card.
Here was a woman who enjoyed playing the powerful business operator and Malcolm enjoyed watching her. As a rule, with women, he liked to hold the whip hand. But the females he mixed with weren't corporate thrusters with company money to flash around; not even Pippa came into that category. So he played second fiddle to Beverley Harris and was content to watch the show.
He considered the deal she was proposing. He supposed it made sense from a corporate point of view. It also had some interesting aspects from his own, and he ran the situation by his father.
`They know naff-all about racing but they're prepared to blow the best part of a hundred grand on an animal, provided he runs regularly.'
Toby saw the potential at once. Ì imagine you think you're required to employ the whole budget.'
'I'd be failing in my duty otherwise, Dad.'
42
The trainer shook his head in mock disapproval. `You're a bad boy, Malcolm.'
How true that was. Even his father didn't know how bad. There were limits, Malcolm imagined, even to parental support.
He grinned at the older man. Àre you going to help me or not?' Toby pondered the question. Ì suggest you buy them a horse overseas.'
Ì was thinking of Ireland.'
Toby shook his head. `Germany would be better. I can put you in touch with someone, if you like.'
The contact had not come for free, as Malcolm had known it wouldn't, but the result was still satisfactory. With his father's assistance he had spent a pleasant couple of days in Bavaria in the company of a dealer called Hans-Jurgen Bach. By the time he left he had acquired a horse for the Euro equivalent of £8000, a value subsequently entered in the Beaufort Holidays account for £80,000 and Little Miss Four Eyes never had an inkling that she'd been so generous. Of course, Malcolm had had to hand half the proceeds to Toby, who had also agreed to stable and train the animal. Nevertheless it was possibly the sweetest deal Malcolm had ever done - especially considering the perks.
By then those perks - Beverly's twin perks, as he thought of them slyly -
had been eased from their expensive, well-cut covering and thoroughly explored, along with the rest of her, in bed at her cottage on the River Branch. So now, as he sat in the Walnut Room restaurant of the Fountain Hotel and listened to the self-important drone of Barney Beaufort, Malcolm was able to take a prurient pleasure in the pressure of a certain Marketing Director's foot as it rested on his beneath the table.
In fact the only fly in the ointment was that it would not be him who escorted Beverley upstairs at the end of the evening. She'd already told Malcolm that Mr. Beaufort stayed in town overnight after business dinners and that she was expected to join him for a nightcap.
`Suppose I get a room too?' he'd suggested. `When you've finished tucking the old boy in you can pop down the hall and see me.'
The milky blues turned to ice. `Mr. Beaufort's not a fool, you know.
Besides, won't your wife be waiting up for you?'
There was no answer to that and Malcolm had let it rest.
43
`Right then, lads and lasses,' announced Barney Beaufort in the tone of voice that clearly said the shutter was coming down on
She flashed him one of those slow-burning smiles. `Provided the Beaufort name gets bandied about - that's the important point.'
Ànd you don't care if the horse doesn't win?'
She shrugged. That blouse was deceptively well cut - expensive, no doubt.
The no-nonsense businesswoman turned out to have a heck of a figure.
`That would be nice, of course. But I've heard that some of these horses can be right prima donnas. We don't want one that cries off if it's got a runny nose.'
Malcolm had left the meeting puzzled but intrigued. Beverley couldn't be more than twenty-five yet she treated him like an errant schoolboy. And the headmistress had an agenda, which she eked out over a series of increasingly lavish lunch meetings, paid for with a company charge card.
Here was a woman who enjoyed playing the powerful business operator and Malcolm enjoyed watching her. As a rule, with women, he liked to hold the whip hand. But the females he mixed with weren't corporate thrusters with company money to flash around; not even Pippa came into that category. So he played second fiddle to Beverley Harris and was content to watch the show.
He considered the deal she was proposing. He supposed it made sense from a corporate point of view. It also had some interesting aspects from his own, and he ran the situation by his father.
`They know naff-all about racing but they're prepared to blow the best part of a hundred grand on an animal, provided he runs regularly.'
Toby saw the potential at once. Ì imagine you think you're required to employ the whole budget.'
'I'd be failing in my duty otherwise, Dad.'
42
The trainer shook his head in mock disapproval. `You're a bad boy, Malcolm.'
How true that was. Even his father didn't know how bad. There were limits, Malcolm imagined, even to parental support.
He grinned at the older man. Àre you going to help me or not?' Toby pondered the question. Ì suggest you buy them a horse overseas.'
Ì was thinking of Ireland.'
Toby shook his head. `Germany would be better. I can put you in touch with someone, if you like.'
The contact had not come for free, as Malcolm had known it wouldn't, but the result was still satisfactory. With his father's assistance he had spent a pleasant couple of days in Bavaria in the company of a dealer called Hans-Jurgen Bach. By the time he left he had acquired a horse for the Euro equivalent of £8000, a value subsequently entered in the Beaufort Holidays account for £80,000 and Little Miss Four Eyes never had an inkling that she'd been so generous. Of course, Malcolm had had to hand half the proceeds to Toby, who had also agreed to stable and train the animal. Nevertheless it was possibly the sweetest deal Malcolm had ever done - especially considering the perks.
By then those perks - Beverly's twin perks, as he thought of them slyly -
had been eased from their expensive, well-cut covering and thoroughly explored, along with the rest of her, in bed at her cottage on the River Branch. So now, as he sat in the Walnut Room restaurant of the Fountain Hotel and listened to the self-important drone of Barney Beaufort, Malcolm was able to take a prurient pleasure in the pressure of a certain Marketing Director's foot as it rested on his beneath the table.
In fact the only fly in the ointment was that it would not be him who escorted Beverley upstairs at the end of the evening. She'd already told Malcolm that Mr. Beaufort stayed in town overnight after business dinners and that she was expected to join him for a nightcap.
`Suppose I get a room too?' he'd suggested. `When you've finished tucking the old boy in you can pop down the hall and see me.'
The milky blues turned to ice. `Mr. Beaufort's not a fool, you know.
Besides, won't your wife be waiting up for you?'
There was no answer to that and Malcolm had let it rest.
43
`Right then, lads and lasses,' announced Barney Beaufort in the tone of voice that clearly said the shutter was coming down on
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