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to Mrs Amory, since she would never agree. He said she must not be told anything, under any circumstances, because she would immediately run and tell you. Mr Lowther then said again that there was nothing they could do about taking over the business whilst you were still alive. He told Mr Ainsley that they would never get away with it, because they did not have the power, or enough shares between them, to gain control. He said they would just have to wait until you were dead. He was adamant about this. He also told Mr Ainsley that he himself was entitled to the controlling shares of the Harte chain and that he was certain you would leave them these shares. He then informed Mr Ainsley that he intended to run the Harte chain and that he would never agree to sell the stores to a conglomerate. Mr Ainsley was furious, almost hysterical, and started to scream the most terrible things at Mr Lowther. But Mr Lowther eventually calmed him down, and he said he would agree to the sale of Harte Enterprises, and that would bring Mr Ainsley all the millions he wanted. Mr Ainsley then asked if Mr Lowther knew what was in your will. Mr Lowther told him he didn’t know, but that he thought you would be fair with them all. He did express some concern about Miss Paula, because she was so close to you. He said he didn’t know what she had been able to wheedle out of you. This upset Mr Ainsley, and he grew very excited again and said that they must formulate a plan of action now, one which they could put into operation after your death, in the event that your will did not favour them.’
    Gaye paused breathlessly, poised on the edge of her chair.
    Emma could not speak or move or think, so stunned and shaken was she now. As she reflected on Gaye’s words the blood rushed to her head and a faintness settled over her. Every bone in her body felt weighted down by the most dreadful fatigue, a fatigue that was leaden and stupefying.
    Her heart shifted within her, and it seemed to Emma that in that instant it withered and turned into a cold, hard little pebble. An immense pain flooded her entire being. It was the pain of despair. The pain of betrayal. Her two sons were plotting against her. Robin and Kit. Half brothers who had never been close were now hand in glove, partners in treachery. She was incredulous as she thought: God Almighty! It’s not possible. It can’t be possible. Not Kit. Not Robin. They could never be so venal. Never. Not my boys! Yet somewhere in the recesses of her mind, in her innermost soul, she knew that it was true. And that anguish of heart and soul and body was displaced by an anger of such icy ferocity that it cleared her brain and propelled her to her feet. Dimly, distantly, she heard Gaye’s voice coming to her as if from a cavernous depth.
    ‘Mrs Harte! Mrs Harte! Are you ill?’
    Emma leaned forward across the desk, which she gripped tightly to steady herself, and her face was drawn and pinched. Her voice was low as she said, ‘Are you sure of all this, Gaye? I don’t doubt you, but are you certain you heard everything correctly? You realize the seriousness of what you have recounted, I’m sure, so think very carefully.’
    ‘Mrs Harte, I am absolutely sure of everything I’ve said,’ Gaye answered quietly. ‘Furthermore, I have not added or subtracted anything, and I haven’t exaggerated either.’
    ‘Is that all?’
    ‘No, there’s more.’ Gaye bent down and picked up her handbag. She opened it and took out a tape, which she placed on the desk in front of Emma.
    Emma regarded the tape, her eyes narrowing. ‘What is this?’
    ‘It’s a tape of everything that was said, Mrs Harte. Except for whatever occurred before I went into the filing room. And the first few sentences I heard. They are missing.’
    Emma looked at her uncomprehendingly, her eyebrowslifting, questions on the tip of her tongue. But before she could ask them, Gaye proceeded to explain more fully.
    ‘Mrs Harte, the tape machine was on.