Page 14 of Companion Required

Chapter Seven

Kennedy

As the plane taxied out to the runway, Kennedy switched his phone off, sat back and indulged in the simple pleasure of flying undisturbed by clients or employees. Quiet moments focusing on the business came along so rarely, and flights gave him precious time to think ahead and strategize. Without question, Sloan had moved his first pawn—or at least that wa’s what Kennedy’s intuition told him. But then, he enjoyed these games and challenges. They kept him alert, focused and grounded. No CEO in their right mind would ever have allowed their senior managers to hold a potential merger meeting without being present themselves. Kennedy was no exception.

What none of them realised was that he would still be present, if not in person, and he would be able to see and hear them, even interject if the necessity arose. He had not only survived but thrived for over eighteen years in a tough business environment dealing with cutting-edge security systems and had not done so without picking up a trick or two along the way. A piece of advice came back to him from his late uncle.‘Be generous with the rope you hand out to those ambitious souls who surround you. Just make sure to keep a firm grip on one end.’

Not long after take-off, wanting to get the chore out of the way as soon as possible, Kennedy began to give Kieran the low-down on his family and friends.

“If he bothers to talk to you at all, my father will probably ask you to call him Jeff. He’s a pompous, miserable old bastard by nature and rarely smiles, so don’t take his rudeness personally. He’s spent practically his whole life in Singapore. Our grandfather worked for the British Government before Singapore gained independence, and continued to do so afterwards. My father only left the country once for any extended period of time and that was to go to university in Cardiff, Wales. He hated being wet and cold, and couldn’t wait to get back to the humidity and sunshine that is Singapore. Following in Grandfather’s shoes, he also worked for the consulate as assistant high commissioner until the day he retired. Personality-wise, he’s a snob, still acts as though Singapore is a colony, and thinks he should be treated like royalty. Although he’s never said as much, his disdain for me is, I think, because his only son is gay. Thinks he’s been robbed of the chance of another Grey male heir to carry forward the family name. Once you’ve finally met the rest of the Grey clan, you’ll understand what a blessing that is for the world.”

“Surely he’s impressed with what you’ve achieved?”

“As far as I’m aware, he either doesn’t know or doesn’t care.”

“How about your mother?”

“Claire Hamilton Grey nee Havens. Unless there’s been an article about me inCosmopolitanthat I don’t know about—which seems to be more and more likely these days—she doesn’t keep tabs on my career. Ridiculous, really, because I took the family business over from her late brother, my uncle. These days she’s a typical ex-pat trophy wife. Bridge club and coffee mornings. Although, according to my sister, she’s now more partial to jugs of afternoon cocktails with the rest of the ex-pat wives. Can’t say I blame her. Having to live with that old sod every day of her life, who wouldn’t choose insobriety? She deserves an OBE.”

“Brutal. Your father doesn’t drink?”

“Of course he does. Cliché to a fault, he’s a cognac and cigar man, the latter of which my mother hates.”

“Will she like me?”

“They’ll both be polite. Dad will probably ignore you most of the time. Mum’s fine. She’s a fan of royal family trivia, if you know any.”

“Hmm. Not really my thing. Is that it?”

“There’s my sister, Reagan.”

“Named after King Lear’s daughter?”

“Guess again. But if it helps, my father’s full name is Jefferson, and he named his kids Kennedy and Reagan.”

“American presidents?”

“Correct. One of his interests is global political history.”

“Do they have a bulldog called Bush?”

“Not yet,” said Kennedy, smirking. “But I’ll mention the idea to Mum.”

“So what’s your sister like?”

“We get on okay. She’s three years younger. Graduated in textile design and could have done really well in fashion, but she married an Australian guy called Bernie and decided to spend her time bringing up babies. They’ve got three boys—Adam, Glenn and Dennis. Can’t remember their ages. My secretary diarises their birthdays, so they get a card and a handout from their uncle each birthday and Christmas. They split their time between Singapore and Melbourne, so no doubt you’ll get to meet them.”

“Is Bernie a fan of cricket?”

Kennedy peered quizzically at Kieran.

“Funny you should ask—he is, actually. Huge. Works as a freelance writer for a couple of sports magazines. Whydidyou ask that? Because he’s an Aussie?”

“No, because their kids have the names of famous Aussie cricketers—Adam Gilchrist, Glenn McGrath and Dennis Lillee.”

Once again Kennedy grinned. He’d never made the connection. Not that the given names of his nephews were in any way unusual, but he had always assumed they’d been picked at random. Which once again confirmed the sharp intelligence of this year’s companion.

“You’ll have to ask him, if he’s around. Apparently he’s often travelling. Okay, so onto my friends on the cruise. Easy enough, because there are only five coming this year. Steph and Laurie are a couple I’ve known since uni. Well, Steph, anyway. They have their own little shop down in Sussex which specialises in antique furniture renovations and doubles as a hairdresser’s. Yes, I know, an odd combination, but you’ll get along fine with both of them. Then there’s Pete and Eric, who are permanent fixtures. Eric’s retired and Pete is—actually, I have no idea what Pete does for a living. But he’s the one who brings us all together, so do your best to endure his irritating and persistent sense of humour. And finally, there’s Leonard.”

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