Chapter 18: An Evening With The O'Donnell's

Nearing the city, the traffic grew heavier and as soon we pulled off the motorway we found ourselves mired in a snarl of late afternoon urban traffic. Finally arriving at the hotel, we grabbed our bags from the boot and proceeded to the lobby to check our mail. There was nothing in our boxes but as I was just about to turn away, the desk clerk said, "Oh, I nearly forgot Ms. Goodman. Mr. Smythe called a while ago and reserved a suite for Mr. and Mrs. Andrews. He instructed that I give you the key... Said you'd know all about it."

Glancing at the tag on key he handed me, I saw their suite was just down the corridor from my own. As we rode up in the elevator, I handed the key to James, and after explaining what Richard had done, I said, "Why don't you stop by my suite for a drink, then we'll help you move your things over from Ellen's. Bridget should also be calling shortly with the plans for your evening."

When we entered my suite, the red light on my phone was blinking, indicating I had messages waiting. I ignored it until I'd put my luggage in the bedroom and poured drinks for everyone. Then, with drink in hand, I moved to the phone and pressed the Messages button. There were four waiting messages.

The first was from the hotel manager informing me of the reserved a suite for the Andrews party, the second from Richard, asking if he could drop by to discuss a problem that had cropped up regarding the merger. I skipped to the third, which was from Bill in Chicago, asking me to return his call at my convenience any time this week. I made a note of that in my planner. The final message was from Bridget, asking me to call her as soon as I arrived. I dialed her number and Bridget answered on the second ring.

"Hi, Alex. I checked with Kevin and dinner is on for tonight. Why don't you and Ellen come along also and we'll make an evening of it! I have a call in to Richard, so perhaps he'll join us also. Kevin says he has a new toy he wants to show everyone."

When she stopped a second to take a breath, I managed to squeeze a word in edgewise. "I'll have to check with Ellen, but count me in anyway. Hold on a moment." I asked Ellen if she had any plans for the evening. She didn't and said she'd love to go, so I passed the information along to Bridget.

"Great, we'll look for you about seven then," she replied, giving me detailed directions to their home. I thought I remembered the route, but dutifully wrote the directions down anyway, just in case.

Hanging up, I dialed Richard's number but only got his machine, so I hung up without leaving a message. I was sure I'd be seeing him shortly anyway.

We got Lynne and James settled in and agreed to meet at six-fifteen in my suite. There wasn't time for a nap so Ellen and I decided to drop down to the "Hare and Hound" for a quick drink and to harass the chatty barman who, it turned out, had the day off. However, the older lady who was filling in for him must have been his mum because she chatted constantly until finally I looked at my watch and announced that we must be going.

We returned to my suite and after freshening my makeup and changing into something more suitable, we set off. I did rather well, I think, navigating the streets from the hotel to their home. After all, the only other time I'd been there it had been after dark, and I wasn't even driving at the time. After referring to my notes only once or twice, Ellen spotted a stone gatepost with the name O'Donnell engraved on an imbedded bronze plaque. I pulled in, only to find Richard's black Aston-Martin already parked under the portico, its engine still ticking softly as it cooled down.

Bridget answered the front door and ushered us inside. Lynne and Ellen joined Kevin, James and Richard in the lounge while I followed Bridget to the kitchen, asking her how she was doing on her canteen start-up project.

"There's not actually that much to do, Alex," she responded. "All of the equipment was already in place and I have most of the staff lined up. All I have left to do is to order supplies and notify the people when to report in."

"Great... I assume you've coordinated the personnel hiring with Ellen?"

"Oh yes and we're set to open whenever you decide on the date," she said with a smile.

As I looked around her homey kitchen I was struck with a sudden realization; I was going to have to move out of the hotel and find a place of my own, perhaps a cozy two-bedroom flat in a nice quiet neighborhood. I'd been living out of suitcases for several years now and had gotten quite used to it but since I now had a permanent position, and a rather high profile one at that, it was time to establish a permanent base. It was a scary thought. I mentioned it to Bridget and she agreed with me, saying she would keep an eye open for suitable addresses.

When we moved back to the lounge to join the others, Bridget mentioned that I was thinking of acquiring a private residence. This of course set Richard and Kevin to thinking of flats and houses they had noticed that might be on the market. As they discussed the pros and cons of various properties and neighborhoods I realized that they seemed to be talking much more money than I had anticipated. "Just how much is this going to cost me," I asked suspiciously.

When Richard casually mentioned an upper six-figure number, I blanched. "I can't possibly afford anything like that," I protested.

Richard chuckled, "You can't be serious, Alex. Have you looked at your bank statements lately?" I had to admit I hadn't.

Richard then informed me of my current salary, of which I was only vaguely aware, as well as the funds that had been deposited by the payroll department for a signing bonus, unused vacation time and relocation expenses. I was overwhelmed. It suddenly struck me that I was no longer a lonely Paladin; traveling troubleshooter and hired gun... I was now closer to a J. R. Ewing, a member of the mover-and-shaker class!

Suddenly a more sobering thought struck me. "I can't possibly take care of a house by myself, much less a house like the ones you've been talking about. I guess I'm going to need a cook and housekeeper also." Kevin and Bridget grinned at each other and said nearly simultaneously, "Shiv-awn!"

Sensing something was happening beneath the surface that I was unaware of, I responded, "Who or what the hell is a Shiv-awn?"

Bridget broke into uproarious laughter; laughing so hard tears came to her eyes. Once her hilarity subsided to the occasional giggle, she managed to explain, while wiping her eyes with a tissue, that Shiv-awn was actually a Gaelic feminine given name which was currently quite popular in Scotland, Ireland and, to a somewhat lesser extent, England. However, due to the rules of spelling and pronunciation, completely understood only by a few Gaelic purists, her name was actually spelled 'Siobhan'.

This particular Siobhan was her older sister Maureen's seventeen year old daughter, who was, at least in her sister's opinion, becoming far too fond of some of the local lads... lads who Maureen considered to be a bunch of lazy layabouts with connections to the IRA. Bridget and Kevin had offered to let Siobhan come to live with them but her parents had insisted they wanted their daughter to be respectably and gainfully employed before they would allow her to move to England... and what could be a more respectable job than the housekeeper for the CEO of a major division of a large American firm.

"Just a minute, I think I have some recent pictures of her," Bridget said as she rose and rummaged through her desk. Returning to her seat, she handed me a half dozen color snapshots showing a tall beautiful red haired young lady who bore a striking resemblance to Bridget. She was smiling and posing for the camera. The last photo in the stack was one of her at a beach wearing a skimpy black string bikini. It showed off her hard pert breasts and tiny waist, which flared out to sensuous hips. These were, in turn, attached to a pair of long shapely legs that seemed to go on forever. She was smiling back at the camera; her eyes sparkling mischievously and the tip of her pink tongue provocatively caressing her upper lip. I could see why her mother wanted to get her away from the 'local lads'!

Suddenly Kevin exclaimed, "The Murchison's place! It would be perfect for you, Alex."

"Oh yes," Bridget agreed. "I'd completely forgotten about them. There's an older couple in the neighborhood who are retiring to Switzerland soon and have mentioned putting their house on the market. It's only a short distance; you simply have to look at it. I know you'll love it," she exclaimed.

" Let me give them a ring and see if it's still available," Kevin said, rising and going to the phone. After a short conversation, he returned with a smile on his face. "They want us come round after we eat. Seemed quite pleased at the prospect of a quick sale. They're planning on leaving next week and want to tidy up their finances before they leave.

With no Estate Agency fees involved, I'm sure you can get a good price if you like the house."

"Good, now that that's out of the way, dinner's nearly ready," Bridget announced.

Before moving to the dining room, Richard excused himself and stepped out to his car. He returned a few moments later, explaining he'd wanted to make sure he'd brought an envelope that he needed to post later.

After a lovely dinner, we girls helped Bridget clear the table and stack the dishes in the dishwasher. Just as we were finishing, the men entered, announcing we'd better leave soon if we wanted to see the house before dark.

As it was only a short distance, we walked. It was a wonderfully upscale neighborhood with large beautiful homes situated on large lots, well-groomed lawns and many mature trees. The more I saw of the area, the more I liked it. As we arrived at the second intersection, Bridget pointed out a residence diagonally across the street. "That's the one," she said, pointing to a well-maintained red brick, two-story Georgian-style house situated on a large, half-acre sized corner lot. It was backed up to a grove of tall spreading oaks, the front lawn bordered by colorful flowerbeds.

"It's beautiful," I said, "but it's so large... I'd never be able to keep it up. And besides, I can tell by looking at it that I can't afford it."

"This is actually quite small, Alex," Richard said patiently, "At least for this neighborhood."

Bridget urged, "Well, let's just look at it anyway. It won't hurt and besides, I've never been inside and I'm curious."

A short, pleasant, slightly overweight lady in her mid-sixties answered the bell and welcomed us warmly as she ushered us inside. We found ourselves in a large flagstone-floored foyer with a formal dining room to the right and an equally formal sitting room to the left. After being introduced by Kevin, Mrs. Murchison kept up a running commentary as she led us from the entrance into the sitting room and then through a set of double doors to the master bedroom suite, a well furnished room about twenty feet square. Directly behind the bedroom was a huge master bath, complete with sunken tub, double shower stall and a whirlpool sauna. The bath was nearly as large as the bedroom and I could just picture myself luxuriating in a warm, sensuous-smelling bubble bath. As we were about to move on, Richard excused himself, saying he had to use the facilities.

Exiting the bedroom, Mrs. Murchison opened a door on the left, revealing a fully equipped laundry area. Next to that was a bright, airy kitchen with a four-burner range top, a grilling surface, double ovens, and dishwasher, all built into large free-standing island in the center of the room. Over this hung a ventilation hood festooned with a hanging assortment of shiny copper-bottomed pans, ladles and other tools. At the far end of the kitchen was located what she described as a breakfast nook, but which was actually the size of a small dining room. What really caught my eye were the two floor-to-ceiling multi-paned mullioned windows, overlooking a large manicured backyard, complete with a small swimming pool just off the large flagstone patio. I was beginning to think I could really enjoy living in this home. Across the corridor was the formal dining room I'd noticed when we first entered. It was a beautifully appointed room complete with a huge highly polished hardwood table with matching china cabinet and two sideboards. A massive crystal chandelier was suspended over the table.

Richard rejoined the tour as we continued down the corridor past an open staircase, one section leading to the upper floor and the other leading downward, where I caught just a glimpse of a finished, carpeted room. The corridor finally emptied into a huge oak-paneled, open-beamed family room with a vaulted ceiling. A huge stone fireplace, which appeared to be large enough to roast a small ox, was located against one of the outside walls. Seated in a huge leather recliner was a distinguished looking white-haired gentleman carefully tamping tobacco into his pipe. As he rose to greet us, Mrs. Murchison introduced him as her husband, William.

As Kevin engaged William in conversation, I turned to Richard and whispered impulsively, "I've just got to have this house. It's perfect!" Richard grinned, and with a wink said, "Consider it done!"

"Well, that's the main floor. Now let me show you the upstairs and the cellar," Mrs. Murchison said, leading us up the open winding staircase. From the balcony overlooking the family room, a corridor led to three good-sized bedrooms, each with its own full bath. Off one of these bedrooms was also a large box-room for storage. Another open area at the top of the stairs, somewhat larger than the bedrooms, was fitted out as a lounge area with fat overstuffed chairs and end tables, as well as a TV and a large walnut bookcase.

Finally, descending the stairs leading down from the main floor to what she referred to as the cellar, she switched on the overhead lights. To my Chicago-bred brain, a cellar was a cold, damp, earthen-floored space beneath a house where rural people stored their root vegetables and city folks like mine stored broken bicycles, outdated appliances, and other junk that might be useful sometime, but probably not in their lifetimes.

What the lights actually revealed was a massive walnut pool table at the foot of the stairs which showed little sign of ever having been used. Except for about a ten foot deep partitioned area at the rear, which Mrs. Murchison explained contained a home office on one side and the central heating/air conditioning unit on the other, this room extended under the entire house.

A well stocked mirror-backed bar stood along one wall with one sofa grouping nearby for entertaining and another sofa grouping facing a large raised-hearth fieldstone fireplace. On the opposite wall was a huge wall-mounted plasma television screen, bracketed by massive walnut speaker cabinets. I also noticed that a TV receiver, video tape deck, CD/DVD player and a home-theater audio system were mounted in a teakwood cabinet below the screen.

The home office area, which I only glanced at, contained a computer desk with an upper end Dell desktop computer system, complete with a flat-screen LCD color monitor, a scanner/printer/fax unit, a multi-line phone system and several oak file cabinets. I didn't want to think how much all this would cost... But I damn well knew wanted it!

As we gathered in the family room, preparing to leave, Richard said to William, "Tell me sir, just how soon could the property be available?"

"Well, actually we're booked out on a flight to Geneva day after tomorrow. Are you seriously interested in purchasing the property then, lad?"

"Certainly sir," Richard replied, "If the price is right. What is your asking price by the way?"

"Well, I don't know. The property has recently been appraised at two million pounds, for insurance purposes, and I suppose that would be the price asked by an agency. However, if we could arrange the sale privately by day after tomorrow, I could discount it to around a million and a half I suppose."

"And just what would be included with the home, as far as appliances, furniture, window treatments, that sort of thing," Richard asked with a bland smile.

"Everything would stay, except for a few personal belongings, I should think," William replied. "We have neither the time nor desire to hold a jumble sale. We're starting afresh you see, moving into a smaller home that's already furnished, so we'll only be taking a few bags, a couple of steamer trunks and some family mementos."

"You know, I recently spoke with Jacob at the club and he mentioned your situation in passing. I'll tell you what I'll do sir, if you'll meet me at my solicitor's office at nine o'clock tomorrow morning we can finalize the sale by nine-thirty. I'll have my solicitor conduct a title search, and if the property's title is found to be in order, free and clear with no liens against it, I'll present you with a certified cheque for seven hundred and fifty thousand pounds for the property... lock, stock and barrel," Richard said with a humorless smile.

I was completely flustered by Richard's ridiculously low offer, as well as his insensitive tone of voice. Certainly William would never agree to a sum considerably less than half its appraised value.

William stared at Richard for a long moment, his face flushing slightly, but finally with a wry grimace said, "Done."

"Anything else you'd like to look at before we leave the Murchison's to their packing, Alex?" Richard asked blandly.

I told him I'd seen all I needed to see and started for the door, thanking the couple for their time and hospitality. On the way out, Richard handed William his card with the name, address and phone number of his solicitor written on the back. "Tomorrow morning at nine sharp then William. It's been a pleasure doing business with you," he said as we left.

I waited until we were out of sight of the house before saying, "What the hell was that all about, Richard? I've never known you to be rude and arrogant to anyone before, especially someone we want to do business with!"