Kane and Abel/Sons of Fortune Read online

  In the morning Melanie made him breakfast and attended to his every need, right up to the moment Abel had to leave.

  “I shall watch the Baron Group with renewed interest,” she told him. “Not that anyone doubts that it’s going to be a huge success.”

  “Thank you,” said Abel, “for breakfast and a memorable night.”

  “I hope we’ll be seeing each other again sometime soon,” Melanie added.

  “I’d like that,” said Abel.

  She kissed him on the cheek as a wife might who is seeing her husband off to work.

  “I wonder what kind of woman you’ll end up marrying,” she asked innocently as she helped Abel on with his overcoat.

  He looked at her and smiled sweetly. “When I make that decision, Melanie, you can be certain I shall be influenced by your views.”

  “What do you mean?” asked Melanie coyly.

  “Simply that I shall heed your advice,” replied Abel as he reached the front door, “to be sure to find myself a nice Polish girl.”

  Abel and Zaphia were married a month later. Zaphia’s cousin Janek gave her away and George was the best man. The reception was held at the Stevens and the drinking and dancing went on far into the night. By tradition, each man paid a token sum to dance with Zaphia and George perspired as he battled around the room, photographing the guests in every possible permutation and combination. After a midnight supper of barszcz, pierogi and bigos downed with wine, brandy and Danzig vodka, Abel and Zaphia were allowed to retire to the bridal suite.

  Abel was pleasantly surprised to be told by Curtis Fenton the next morning that the bill for his reception at the Stevens had been covered by Mr. Maxton and was to be treated as a wedding gift. Abel used the money he had saved for the reception as a down payment on a little house on Rigg Street.

  For the first time in his life he possessed a home of his own.

  PART FOUR

  1932-1941

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  William decided to take a month’s vacation in England before making any firm decision about his future; he even considered resigning from the board of Kane and Cabot, but Matthew convinced him that that was not the course of action his father would have taken in the same circumstances. Matthew appeared to take his friend’s defeat even harder than William himself. Twice in the following week he came into the bank with the obvious signs of a hangover and left important work unfinished.

  William decided to let these incidents pass without comment and invited Matthew to join him and Kate for dinner that night. Matthew declined, claiming that he had a backload of letters to catch up on. William wouldn’t have given the refusal a second thought if Matthew hadn’t been dining at the Ritz-Carlton that night with an attractive woman who William could have sworn was married to one of Kane and Cabot’s departmental managers. Kate said nothing except that Matthew didn’t look very well.

  William, preoccupied with his impending departure for Europe, took less notice of his friend’s strange behavior than he might otherwise have taken. At the last moment William couldn’t face a month in England alone and asked Kate to accompany him. To his surprise and delight she agreed.

  William and Kate sailed for England on the Mauretania in separate cabins. Once they had settled into the Ritz, in separate rooms, even on separate floors, William reported to the London branch of Kane and Cabot in Lombard Street and fulfilled the ostensible purpose of his trip to England by reviewing the bank’s European activities. Morale was high and Tony Simmons had evidently been a well-liked manager; there was little for William to do but murmur his approval.

  He and Kate spent a glorious month together in London, then Hampshire and Lincolnshire, looking at some land William had acquired a few months previously, more than twelve thousand acres in all. The financial return from farming land is never high, but as William explained to Kate, “It will always be there if things ever go sour again in America.”

  A few days before they were due to travel back to the United States, Kate decided she wanted to see Oxford, and William agreed to drive her down early the next morning. He hired a new Morris, a car he had never driven before. In the university city, they spent the day wandering around the colleges: Magdalen, superb against the river; Christ Church, grandiose but cloisterless; and Merton, where they just sat on the grass and dreamed.

  “Can’t sit on the grass, sir,” said the voice of a college porter.

  They laughed and walked hand in hand like undergraduates beside the Cherwell, watching eight Matthews straining to push their boat along as swiftly as possible. William could no longer imagine a life separated in any way from Kate.

  They started back for London in midafternoon and when they reached Henley on Thames, they stopped to have tea at the Bell Inn overlooking the river. After scones and a large pot of strong English tea (Kate was adventuresome and drank it with only milk, but William added hot water to dilute it), Kate suggested that they should hurry on before it was too dark to see the countryside; but when William had inserted a crank into the Morris, he could not get the engine to turn over, despite strenuous effort. Finally he gave up and, since it was getting late, decided that they would have to spend the night in Henley. He returned to the front desk of the Bell Inn and requested two rooms.

  “Sorry, sir, I have only one double room left,” said the receptionist.

  William hesitated for a moment and then said, “We’ll take it.”

  Kate looked somewhat surprised but said nothing; the receptionist looked suspiciously at her.

  “Mr. and Mrs.—er——?”

  “Mr. and Mrs. William Kane,” said William firmly. “We’ll be back later.”

  “Shall I put your cases in the room, sir?” the hall porter asked.

  “We don’t have any,” William replied, smiling.

  “I see, sir.”

  A bewildered Kate followed William up Henley’s High Street until he came to a halt in front of the parish church.

  “May I ask what we’re doing, William?” Kate asked.

  “Something I should have done a long time ago, my darling.”

  Kate asked no more questions. When they entered the Norman vestry, William found a church warden piling up some hymnals.

  “Where can I find the Vicar?” demanded William.

  The church warden straightened himself to his full height and regarded William pityingly.

  “In the vicarage, I dare say.”

  “Where’s the vicarage?” asked William, trying again.

  “You’re an American gentleman, aren’t you, sir?”

  “Yes,” said William, becoming impatient.

  “The vicarage will be next door to the church, won’t it?” said the church warden.

  “I suppose it will,” said William. “Can you stay here for the next ten minutes?”

  “Why should I want to do that, sir?”

  William extracted a large, white £5 note from his inside pocket and unfolded it. “Make it fifteen minutes to be on the safe side, please.”

  The church warden studied the £5 carefully and said, “Americans. Yes, sir.”

  William left the man with his £5 note and hurried Kate out of the church. As they passed the main notice board in the porch, he read: “‘The Vicar of this Parish is The Very Reverend Simon Tukesbury, M.A. (Cantab),’”and next to that pronouncement, hanging by one nail, was an appeal concerning a new roof for the church. Every penny toward the necessary £500 will help, declared the notice, not very boldly. William hastened up the path to the vicarage with Kate a few yards behind. A smiling, pink-cheeked, plump woman answered his sharp rap on the door.

  “Mrs. Tukesbury?” inquired William.

  “Yes.” She smiled.

  “May I speak to your husband?”

  “He’s having his tea at the moment. Would it be possible for you to come back a little later?”

  “I’m afraid it’s rather urgent,” William insisted.

  Kate had caught up with him but said nothing.