By Virtue Fall (The Shakespeare Sisters Book 4) Read online

  And now? It was a matter of pride more than anything, to wear the same clothes he wore every day. As he stepped into the shiny office block that housed Shaw & Sutherland, his jeans and dark T-shirt made him look more out of place than ever. When he was a child he would have felt uncomfortable at being different, but right now he liked that feeling.

  ‘Can I help you?’ One of the well-groomed associates looked up from the reception desk. Her eyes showed no recognition at all. Why would they? The last time he’d walked into this building he’d been little more than a kid.

  ‘I’m here to see Matthew Sutherland.’ Or rather, he’d been summoned. And as much as he disliked his father, his curiosity outweighed his antipathy. Plus he didn’t want him turning up at his home again.

  The mention of his father’s name was enough to make the receptionist sit up straight. Anybody invited to see his father was obviously somebody. ‘What’s your name, please?’

  ‘I’m Ryan.’

  She waited for a moment, as if expecting him to give a surname, but Ryan kept quiet. He still didn’t like the way a simple word changed the way people treated him in this town. For good or bad.

  ‘Please take a seat.’ She pointed at the bank of leather chairs in the corner of the marbled entrance. ‘I’ll let his assistant know you’re here.’

  ‘No need, I’ll find my own way up.’ Ryan wasn’t about to wait around at his father’s beck and call.

  ‘Do you have an appointment?’ the receptionist called out at his retreating back. He was already halfway towards the elevators. ‘Mr um … Ryan, you can’t just go up there. Nobody’s allowed to roam the building without an escort.’

  He ignored her increasingly frantic calls, stepping into the first elevator that arrived. The inside felt familiar, and as he pressed the button for floor eleven, it felt as though he was stepping back in time, back to that young kid who would come visit his father on very special occasions, his sweaty hand clutching at his tightly knotted tie, feeling out of place the way he always did.

  The air in the elevator tasted stale, as if it had been trapped inside for too long. Ryan took a big lungful of it anyhow, watching the display tick past each level, until it finally came to a stop on floor eleven. He stepped out, ignoring the assistant whose desk was angled to welcome whoever exited the elevator, instead turning left, his brown shoes barely making a sound on the carpeted floor.

  Strange how easily things came back to him. The conference room had been behind the door at the end of the corridor in his grandfather’s day. And there it still was, though the name had been elevated to ‘boardroom’ according to the gold letters affixed to the thick, oak door. The atmosphere felt the same, too, the air pressing down on him oppressively. Reminding him exactly why he could never work in an office building like this.

  He didn’t bother to knock, just pushed the door open, the hinges creaking as the light from the boardroom flooded the corridor beyond. Six faces looked up from the piles of paper on the table.

  His father was the first to speak. ‘Ryan.’ There wasn’t a hint of reconciliation on his face. Not that Ryan would have welcomed it after all these years. But he was a father himself now, he couldn’t imagine not having laid eyes on Charlie for all this time, then barely acknowledging him. It went against every impulse he had. ‘Shall we wait for your lawyer to join us?’ his father asked.

  ‘He’s not coming.’ Ryan folded his arms across his chest.

  His father was taking him in, those watery blue eyes not missing a thing. It took everything he had not to squirm in his chair, just like he was a child again, being measured, and found wanting.

  Why had he come here again? To show them he wasn’t afraid? Or maybe to show them they should be the ones who were scared.

  ‘That’s a shame. I was hoping you’d have some wise counsel.’ As always his father’s voice was mild. He lifted his water glass to his thin lips, taking a mouthful of liquid.

  The lawyer sitting to his father’s left shifted in his seat, frowning, but saying nothing.

  ‘Why did you come back, Ryan?’

  Ryan tried to ignore the way his father’s question made him feel. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t asked himself the same thing a dozen times anyway. Still, something about the way his father was looking at him compelled Ryan to answer. He wasn’t going to be the kid that ran away again.

  ‘Because I wanted to show my son where he was from. Because I wanted to show him the town his great-grandfather helped to build. Because you may think you own this place, but the last time I looked it was a free country. I can live anywhere I like.’

  ‘Yet you chose to live here. Out of three million square miles in this country, you chose little old Shaw Haven to send your boy to Kindergarten. Is that what you expect us to believe?’ His father shook his head slowly, still maintaining eye contact.

  There was silence for a moment. His father’s stare didn’t waver, but still, Ryan could see a vulnerability that he hadn’t noticed before. Not quite fear, but definitely not a man in total control of the situation. For the first time, it dawned on him that his father was afraid of his reasons for coming back. Afraid of what he could do to the business – and his life.

  ‘Why do you think I’m back?’

  His father took another sip of water. ‘I think you have unfinished business. Or at least that’s what you believe. But I’m here to tell you to stop it before it starts. I may be older, but I’m not afraid to defend what’s mine.’ He gave a half-smile.

  ‘You don’t need to defend anything. Not everything’s about you. I told you why I’m back and that’s it.’

  ‘So you’re not here for the business?’ There was still disbelief in his father’s voice.

  For a moment Ryan considered playing with him, the same way his father had played with his mother for years. But really, what would that have gained him? As far as he was concerned he was just another shareholder. Nothing more than that. ‘I’m not interested in the business at all.’

  ‘In that case I have an offer for you. A very generous one. I’ll email your lawyer the details after our meeting, but I’m certain he’ll advise you to accept.’

  ‘What offer?’ For the first time, Ryan wanted to sigh. Swallowing down the impulse, he rolled his shoulders, trying to loosen the tension there. His father gestured at one of his lawyers.

  The man pushed his glasses up his nose, then lifted a pile of thick white paper. ‘Ry … Mr Sutherland, we’ve prepared a very generous offer for your shares. We’d like you to sell them back to the company.’

  ‘You want to buy me out?’ His voice was low. Clipped. But none of them took the warning.

  ‘We want to get rid of our liabilities,’ his father said. ‘And you’re the biggest one.’

  ‘Grandfather left me those shares for a reason,’ Ryan said. ‘He didn’t want the company to be in your hands, otherwise he’d have left them to you.’

  ‘I think we both know the old man had lost it by the end,’ his father said. ‘He didn’t know what he was doing. If you weren’t family I would have contested the will, but you’d put your mother through more than enough by then. You should look at the offer; it’s a good one. We’ll keep it open for a week. Pass it by your lawyer, and get back to us with any questions.’

  The lawyer slid the documents into a large buff envelope, then pushed it across the table to Ryan. He ignored it, refusing to pick it up.

  ‘I don’t need to read it. The answer’s no.’ Without looking at the envelope, he used the tips of his fingers to push it back across the polished wooden surface. Though his stomach was churning, he kept his expression implacable. He knew from past experience that to show weakness to his father was tantamount to surrender. ‘I promised my grandfather I would never sell the shares,’ Ryan said. ‘Not to an outside buyer, and not to you.’ He flicked his eyes up, meeting his father’s gaze.

  ‘We’ll send the offer to your lawyer,’ his father said. ‘He’ll tell you it’s a good one. You have fi
ve days to accept it.’

  ‘Send it where you want.’ Ryan shrugged. ‘I won’t be accepting it anyway. You’re wasting your time and mine.’

  ‘Then I’d say this meeting is over.’

  ‘That’s the first sensible thing I’ve heard all morning.’ Leaving the envelope on the table, Ryan left the room, not bothering to say goodbye, not wanting to look back at his father. It was taking all of his effort just to keep himself from exploding. He was angry, but also really hurt. He should be used to it, he really should, but it didn’t stop him from wanting to break something on his way out of the building.

  Almost fifteen years ago, he’d walked away from his parents and swore to himself he’d never let them hurt him again.

  So why did it feel as if he’d just been stabbed in the back?

  7

  Wisely and slow. They stumble that run fast

  – Romeo and Juliet

  ‘Are you sure everything’s okay there?’ Juliet spoke into her phone.

  ‘It’s all good. I’ve opened up, sold a couple of bouquets. And the driver called to confirm the deliveries for later. Now stop talking to me and enjoy your day, okay?’ Lily reassured her. ‘I promise I’ve got it all covered.’

  ‘I really appreciate your help. Thanks for stepping in.’ Juliet still couldn’t help but worry. ‘I’ll call you tonight to make sure it all went well.’

  ‘You do that.’ Lily sounded amused. ‘But for now you’re a mom not an entrepreneur. So hang up and get on with it.’

  Planning a day off from her own business had been hard work. She’d spent the whole weekend trying to get everything ready, so that Lily could run the shop alone. It had meant paying a courier service to deliver the flowers, pretty much wiping out any profit she had hoped to make, but really, what choice did she have? Poppy was desperate for Juliet to be one of the parent-helpers on the school trip, and the thought of disappointing her was too much.

  Yet another joy of being a single, working parent; every choice left a casualty somewhere. All too often, the main casualty was Juliet’s sanity.

  She glanced at her phone as she walked with Poppy into her classroom. No messages yet. Hopefully that was a good sign.

  The classroom was buzzing with the children’s excitement. Though it was early October, they were all dressed in their Halloween clothes; as princesses and witches, ghosts and football players.

  Poppy was dressed as Merida – her favourite Disney princess – complete with a wig full of tumbling red curls. The colour wasn’t too far off Juliet’s and she found it amusing that for once the two of them looked as though they were related.

  ‘Mrs Marshall? Thanks for coming to help today.’ Brenda Mason, Poppy’s Kindergarten teacher, shot Juliet a harassed smile. ‘We’re just waiting on two more parents then we’ll get onto the bus. Bathroom break first though!’

  Juliet bit down a grin. Miss Mason had been a Kindergarten teacher for more than twenty years. Everything in her classroom was ruled by bathroom breaks.

  She drifted over to where the other helpers were waiting. Like Poppy, their children had been at the expensive private school since preschool, graduating first to Pre-K, and then on to Kindergarten. They’d known her back when she’d been Mrs Marshall, trophy wife and mother, before her world had fallen apart. Since she’d separated from Thomas the invitations for coffee or supervised play dates had dried up. If she hadn’t been so busy trying to set up her business, it probably would have bothered her more.

  ‘Hi Susan. Hi Emily.’ She shot them a smile and they nodded back at her. ‘Who else are we waiting for?’

  ‘Marsha, of course,’ Susan said, rolling her eyes. ‘Oh, and Charlie Sutherland’s dad. You know, the good-looking one.’

  ‘He’s smoking hot,’ Emily agreed. ‘That blond hair makes him look like a young Robert Redford, well before he got all wrinkly, anyway. And he’s such a good dad, too. Poor guy is all on his own, I don’t know how he does it.’

  ‘Oh, he’s amazing. Have you seen how good he is with Charlie? We asked him over for a play date this weekend, try to give his poor dad a break. God knows, it’s impossible to be a parent twenty-four-seven. I was saying to Rich, I’ve no idea how I’d cope if I didn’t have him coming home every evening. I’m so lucky I’ll never have to be a single mom.’

  Juliet felt all the muscles surrounding her chest tighten. She should be used to talk like this. It wasn’t so long ago that she was one of them, married with money and help and everything else she could ask for. Not that she’d ever been as smug as Susan was.

  But still, she’d taken it for granted. Until everything changed.

  ‘I’m so sorry, Juliet, how are things going for you?’ Susan finally asked. ‘It can’t be easy, living on your own. But at least you have Thomas’s money. That’s something, right?’ Her laugh was tinkling. ‘Plus every other weekend you’re child-free. I dream of that sometimes. There’s nothing worse than getting woken up on a Saturday morning. You must love sleeping in.’

  ‘I don’t sleep in. I have to work at the weekends,’ Juliet pointed out. ‘I can’t remember the last time I stayed in bed past six.’

  ‘How’s the little shop going?’ Susan asked. ‘I keep meaning to drop in. I think it’s wonderful that you’ve got somewhere like that to keep you busy, now you’re not a career wife.’

  Juliet was trying – and failing – to keep the frown from her face. A career wife – was that what she’d been? She’d thought she was just a wife, plain and simple. Not always a perfect wife, no matter how hard she’d tried, and she had tried really hard. Career wife made it sound as if she’d failed to meet standards she’d never known even existed.

  ‘Come by any time,’ she said. Her throat felt scratchy. ‘I’ll show you around.’

  ‘Sure. I’m sure it won’t take long anyway will it? It’s only a tiny little shop … ’ Susan trailed off, staring over Juliet’s shoulder, a dreamy expression softening her face. ‘Oh my, he really is something.’

  Juliet didn’t have to turn around to know exactly who Susan was talking about, the tingles shooting down her spine did the job for her. The blood rushed to her face, warming her cheeks, sped up by the rapid beats of her heart.

  She almost didn’t want to look at him. Didn’t want him to see how flustered she became whenever he was around. Since she’d left those flowers on his doorstep a couple of weeks ago, she’d only seen glimpses of him as she was leaving for work.

  Maybe it was better that way.

  ‘Mr Sutherland, thank you so much for coming. And look at you, Charlie, what are you dressed up as? Is that a Mexican costume?’ Miss Mason asked.

  ‘I’m a Peruvian,’ Charlie corrected. ‘It’s from Cuzco.’

  ‘Of course you are, dear. What lovely colours they are, too.’ Miss Mason took a deep breath before shouting for attention. ‘Okay, children, please get in line. We’re going to take you to the bathroom five at a time, and then you’ll get on the bus. Make sure you have your bagged lunches and raincoats please.’

  All the kids rushed to be at the front, shouting and laughing as they pushed each other out of the way. Juliet watched as Miss Mason and her classroom helper tried to get them to form a line, listening patiently as the children complained it was ‘no fair’ that they weren’t at the front.

  ‘Hey.’ Ryan’s voice was so close to her ear she could feel the warmth of his breath as he spoke. It sent another shiver down her spine.

  Ignoring her own stupid reactions, she forced a smile onto her face. ‘Hello, Mr Sutherland.’

  ‘I’ll take a simple Ryan, if it’s all the same to you, London. Or if you really want to annoy me you can call me “Ry”.’

  ‘That annoys you? Why?’

  He didn’t get a chance to answer before Susan slid smoothly between the two of them.

  ‘Oh, hi, Ryan, it’s so good to see you again. Franklin is so looking forward to Charlie coming to stay at the weekend. He’s such a lovely boy, a real credit to you.’ Susan turned
her back on Juliet, giving Ryan no choice but to look at her. ‘Maybe you can join us for lunch on Sunday? If the weather stays like this we’ll probably light up the barbecue. My sister will be visiting and I know she’d love to meet you.’

  ‘Um, yeah, sure. Sounds good.’

  ‘Let’s say one o’clock?’

  Juliet tried to drown out the noise as Susan started asking him about what sort of food Charlie liked. Ryan was keeping his voice polite, unteasing, not at all the way he’d spoken to her. She looked over at the children, now standing in a perfect line, all of them staring up with interest at Miss Mason as she described their plans for the day. Then each set of children were assigned to a parent or helper, sent off to the bathroom and then to the school bus. Within seconds Juliet was surrounded by Poppy and four of her school mates.

  It was barely nine-thirty in the morning, yet it already seemed like it had been one hell of a long morning. God only knew how she was going to survive the rest of the day.

  ‘Climb on board, kids. Mind the step, now, you don’t wanna be falling off. We’ve got a hay ride to enjoy.’ The tractor driver helped the group of kids climb onto the trailer, watching as they clambered over the bales of hay laid out as seats on the flat bed. Silently Juliet counted them on, something she’d been doing all day. Though she was only in charge of five children, there was no way she was going to lose any of them. After her last encounter with Principal Davies, she wasn’t exactly jumping at the chance of being hauled in front of her again.

  ‘Mind if we tag along?’

  She turned to see Ryan standing there, his own group of kids clinging onto his arms. She’d seen him earlier at the pumpkins – had watched with amusement as he’d managed to smash twelve of them while the kids had cheered him on. The farm was big enough that she’d only bumped into him once before now. He’d been the only helper – apart from Juliet herself – who’d joined in the fun on the climbing castle, clambering over bales and through holes in the wall, laughing along with the children as he swung on the rope swing.