urged him forward, his father's repeated warnings kept him in check most of the time. That is until he met Eleanor Dixon, a twenty-year-old raven-haired beauty from Cork city. She was studying French and Italian at Trinity while Big Harry was studying her. Eleanor Dixon led Harry O'Brien on a merry chase, refusing all overtures and only agreeing to a visit to the theatre after many months of dogged persistent requests. But Eleanor had as much of an eye for Big Harry as he had for her and romance soon flourished. They married in secret to escape the media and the suffocating attention of both families. Their first child, Mary, was born two years later in Denver, Colorado, where Harry had moved to study business and marketing.
Returning to Ireland in 1982 after the sudden death of his father, Harry bought out his mother and two sisters and became managing director of the business. He also bought back the thirty per cent shareholding from BPP, even though his bankers almost gagged when they learned the price he was asking them to support. Within the first year he had taken over a small electronics company based in the Midlands and turned it round from just breaking even to showing healthy profit by specialising in the manufacture of medical equipment. By the time his next two children were born, Harry O'Brien had changed the company name to the O'Brien Corporation and expanded its range of products.
It seemed as though Harry O'Brien could do nothing wrong, he had the golden touch. But all that ended on 20th December 1991. On a trip back from Dublin to the family residence in North Wicklow, the Lexus Eleanor O'Brien was driving collided head on with a sand truck. She never stood a chance, nor did her three children. That fateful afternoon Harry O'Brien lost his family. Within a month he was fighting for his own life in an exclusive London private clinic, having taken an overdose of drink and tranquillisers. He spent months in recovery and was a shell of his former self when he finally returned to work in the autumn of 1992. There followed eighteen very lonely months as he struggled to keep off the booze and get his life together again. But finally a new beginning came in the alluring shape of Sandra Greene, one of Ireland's top fashion models and twenty years younger than himself. Sandra, a long-haired blonde, had the style and grace of a Greek goddess with a quick wit and infectious laugh. They were introduced at a cocktail party and practically fell into each other's arms. They were married within a month, in February 1994.
As Dempsey watched the new family unit a sense of unease stirred inside him. He stepped back into the corridor, closing the door quietly behind, and sat down on a chair in the corridor. A nurse walked past pushing a perspex open-topped cot in which lay another newborn baby. Behind followed the mother, walking slowly, the bulge of her shrinking womb still obvious underneath her dressing gown. Dempsey smiled and she smiled back. He settled in the chair, picked up a discarded newspaper and began to read. The lead story was all about his boss and the birth of his son. As he read Theo Dempsey's sense of unease increased. He wasn't at all happy so much of Big Harry's personal life was being made so public. He wasn't happy about it at all.
9
11.30 am
Theo Dempsey's unease matched that of Luke Conway.
'Cancel all incoming calls to me,' he directed his secretary. 'If there are any media queries about the O'Brien baby refer them to Central Information.'
He replaced the phone and gazed at the names of the Masters engraved on the huge brass mount on the wall in front of him. To be head of this hospital was a rare honour indeed. The Central Maternity Hospital had a worldwide reputation for research and development in obstetrics and gynaecology and was often visited by eminent international gynaecologists wishing to see at first hand one of the oldest maternity hospitals in the
Returning to Ireland in 1982 after the sudden death of his father, Harry bought out his mother and two sisters and became managing director of the business. He also bought back the thirty per cent shareholding from BPP, even though his bankers almost gagged when they learned the price he was asking them to support. Within the first year he had taken over a small electronics company based in the Midlands and turned it round from just breaking even to showing healthy profit by specialising in the manufacture of medical equipment. By the time his next two children were born, Harry O'Brien had changed the company name to the O'Brien Corporation and expanded its range of products.
It seemed as though Harry O'Brien could do nothing wrong, he had the golden touch. But all that ended on 20th December 1991. On a trip back from Dublin to the family residence in North Wicklow, the Lexus Eleanor O'Brien was driving collided head on with a sand truck. She never stood a chance, nor did her three children. That fateful afternoon Harry O'Brien lost his family. Within a month he was fighting for his own life in an exclusive London private clinic, having taken an overdose of drink and tranquillisers. He spent months in recovery and was a shell of his former self when he finally returned to work in the autumn of 1992. There followed eighteen very lonely months as he struggled to keep off the booze and get his life together again. But finally a new beginning came in the alluring shape of Sandra Greene, one of Ireland's top fashion models and twenty years younger than himself. Sandra, a long-haired blonde, had the style and grace of a Greek goddess with a quick wit and infectious laugh. They were introduced at a cocktail party and practically fell into each other's arms. They were married within a month, in February 1994.
As Dempsey watched the new family unit a sense of unease stirred inside him. He stepped back into the corridor, closing the door quietly behind, and sat down on a chair in the corridor. A nurse walked past pushing a perspex open-topped cot in which lay another newborn baby. Behind followed the mother, walking slowly, the bulge of her shrinking womb still obvious underneath her dressing gown. Dempsey smiled and she smiled back. He settled in the chair, picked up a discarded newspaper and began to read. The lead story was all about his boss and the birth of his son. As he read Theo Dempsey's sense of unease increased. He wasn't at all happy so much of Big Harry's personal life was being made so public. He wasn't happy about it at all.
9
11.30 am
Theo Dempsey's unease matched that of Luke Conway.
'Cancel all incoming calls to me,' he directed his secretary. 'If there are any media queries about the O'Brien baby refer them to Central Information.'
He replaced the phone and gazed at the names of the Masters engraved on the huge brass mount on the wall in front of him. To be head of this hospital was a rare honour indeed. The Central Maternity Hospital had a worldwide reputation for research and development in obstetrics and gynaecology and was often visited by eminent international gynaecologists wishing to see at first hand one of the oldest maternity hospitals in the
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