have been enormously worse.
Their troubles were far from over even then; Felix
Miller’s determination to move in on his son-in-law’s
professional life, pushing clients his way, advising him on
business strategy, offering him backing, was a constant
crucifixion to both Tom and Octavia, and there had been endless conflict between the three of them. Octavia was
particularly anguished, veering between love and gratitude
to her father, and a desire to reassure him that she wanted
him still to be a major part of her life, and loyalty to Tom
and a passionate desire to see him prove himself.
It was an ongoing problem, still unresolved. Felix,
genuinely baffled by what he read as an entirely irrational
pride, genuinely hurt by the continual rejection, took
vengeance in a kind of truculent interference in his
daughter’s personal and family life, and indeed her own
professional conduct, for she, too, had refused to take
money from him, had raised the money for shares in Capital
C from her own bank. Octavia was able to endure it
because she loved Felix so dearly, but it was an endurance,
and getting no easier…
‘Octavia,’ said Felix Miller’s voice now. ‘I really do want to
speak to you. Ring me back, please, whenever you get in.’
Octavia jumped. She had been so lost in the contemplation
of her life that she had not even heard the phone
on her desk ring. She was surprised at herself; she must
have been very disturbed by Michael Carlton’s words. By
the whole complex Carlton issue; the development, her
charity …
She sighed, waited for a while, wishing she could ignore
the instruction, but she knew she couldn’t. The habit of
obedience to her father was impossible to break. She
pressed the button that automatically dialled him. It was
picked up immediately.
‘Felix Miller.’
‘Hi, Dad. Sorry, I was in the loo.’
‘How long have you been home?’
As always, she felt nervy at the inquisition. ‘Not long,’
she said. ‘Why?’
‘Because I left a message with that nanny of yours to ring
me. Didn’t she give it to you?’
‘Yes, Dad, she gave it to me. But I did have a few things to do. I’ve only been in just over an hour. I wanted to see my children, make myself a cup of tea—’
‘Yes, all right.’ He didn’t like those sorts of excuses.
‘Well, as long as you got the message. It was important. Are
you all right? You sound a bit — odd.’
‘I’m fine,’ she said quickly. ‘I’m tired, obviously—’
‘You work too hard,’ he said. ‘It’s ridiculous. Your job’s
all right, I suppose, but not all these out-of-hours things you
do with Tom. He asks too much of you.’
‘Daddy, it’s no more than any wife would do.’
‘Yes, but any wife doesn’t work all the hours God sends
as well.’
‘But that’s my choice. I can’t help it, I seem to need to
work. No prizes for guessing who I get that from.’
‘No, maybe not. Well, how about a good holiday? That
might help. Give you a bit of time with the children.
Maybe you should go alone, without Tom. You could
come and stay with me at the cottage.’ The cottage was an
exquisite small house in Barbados, right on the beach.
‘Daddy, honestly. You’re not exactly subtle.’
‘I don’t pretend to be subtle. It would still do you good.
Think about it.’
‘honestly I can’t. Much too busy.’
‘You really ought to look after yourself. Shortsighted not
to. You’re no good to anyone if you’re exhausted. Anyway,
I want you to get Tom to ring me urgently. Got a possible
project for him.’
‘What’s that?’ she said, knowing she had to ask,
otherwise he would upbraid her for taking no interest in
him, in what he could do for Tom and his company.
‘Oh, colleague of mine. Involved in a big takeover.
Someone’s after his company. He’d like some advice,
wonders whether he can get the Monopolies boys involved.
Name’s Cadogan, nice chap, you’d like him. So anyway,
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