The Inheritance

Jason shook his head.

‘Oh well then. I guess she must be feeling better,’ said Logan. ‘If I’d just sold my company and pocketed thirty million dollars, I think I’d be feeling fabulous.’

Jason watched his sister as she pottered around his kitchen, helping herself to a large slab of Dairy Milk chocolate from the top shelf of the larder and washing it down with the last of the full-fat milk. She was humming a tune to herself under her breath, her feet tapping to the rhythm in her head. It struck Jason how happy she looked.

‘You’re in a very good mood today.’

‘Yes.’ Logan twirled across the room and kissed him on the cheek. ‘Shouldn’t I be?’

‘I don’t know.’ His eyes narrowed suspiciously. ‘Should you be?’

He had enough problems of his own to worry about, not least whether Maddie Wilkes was about to barge through the front door armed with a meat cleaver. But something about his sister put him on his guard.

‘Has something happened?’

‘No! Nothing’s happened.’ Logan laughed. ‘I’m happy, Jason. I’m in love and I’m enjoying my life. You and Tati should try it some time.’

And with that she swept out, leaving Jason clutching his bleeding arm.

Where the hell was Tatiana?

Brett Cranley was in his office, running through the checklist from the East Hampton removals company with his new PA, when the door swung open and Tatiana stormed in.

‘You bastard.’

She stood in the doorway quivering with rage. In a bottle green T-shirt and grey cigarette pants with kitten heels, she looked tiny to the point of frailness. Thanks to her recent illness, not to mention the intense stress of the past week, she was fifteen pounds lighter than usual. Her frame, always slim, now looked gaunt, and though she was less obviously unwell than she had been at Max and Stella’s wedding, it struck Brett how very pale she appeared. He pushed the thought away.

‘I’m busy,’ he said, not looking up from the furniture lists. ‘What do you want?’

‘I know it was you,’ said Tati, marching over to the desk and snatching the lists out of Brett’s hand, to the dismay and embarrassment of his new assistant.

‘It’s OK, Linda,’ Brett told her. ‘You can go. We’ll finish this up later.’ As soon as the PA had gone, he turned to Tati. ‘So. What is it this time? A few days ago it was Furlings you were up in arms about, and my move to New York. That’s old news now, is it?’

‘You know it is. And you know exactly why I’m here,’ seethed Tati. ‘HCL’s nothing but a shell company. Laid up in bed these last few days, I’ve had plenty of time on my hands. So I did a little digging.’

‘I commend your work ethic,’ Brett purred.

‘Go fuck yourself,’ snarled Tati. ‘You’re the one who bought Hamilton Hall. It was you all along! You turned my board against me.’

Brett laughed, a low, throaty chuckle, and began playing with a wooden puzzle on his desk. He sounded genuinely amused. ‘I didn’t need to turn them against you. You’d alienated everybody on that board long before I came on the scene.’

This was true, of course, but Tati was damned if she was going to admit it.

‘You’re not even interested in schools. You know nothing about the business, nothing about the education sector.’

‘Very true,’ mused Brett. He was clearly enjoying himself.

‘So you admit it? You did it just to spite me.’

‘Do you really think you’re that important to me?’ Brett mocked her. ‘You think I’d waste a hundred million dollars to make some sort of point?’

‘Yes,’ said Tati.

‘Then you’re even more of a fool than you look.’ Brett stood up and walked over to the window, admiring his view of the London Eye and the winding river Thames below. ‘You’re quite right I know fuck-all about the education sector. But I do know about real estate. That was quite a deal you struck in New York. That site was undervalued by at least forty per cent, perhaps more. Combined with your London assets, I’d say Hamilton Hall was worth every penny I paid, and more.’

Tatiana’s eyes widened, then narrowed with hostility.

‘How did you know the price I’d negotiated on the New York building?’

Brett grinned from ear to ear. ‘I have my sources. You know, I was disappointed you didn’t take up our offer to stay on board and run the schools.’

‘Work for you?’ Tati sneered. ‘I’d rather starve.’

‘You’ll hardly be starving. Not after the cash I’ve just shelled out. Still, it’s a shame,’ Brett mused. ‘I’d have enjoyed watching you close the business down.’

Tilly Bagshawe's books