Page 119 of Wife After Wife
Cranwell glanced up at Janette as he took his seat opposite Harry, giving her a smile that bordered on the lecherous. “Nothing for me, thanks, dear.”
As she left, he said with a knowing smile, “Ana’s lawyer mentioned Janette. Perhaps I should close the door.”
“What? Oh, I see. Of course.” Harry and Janette were seeing each other outside of work but weren’t yet “official.”
They discussed Harry’s progress, then Tom cleared his throat and said, “Regarding Ana’s divorce petition—”
“I’m not contesting it, Tom. Just sort it out. Do your best on visitingrights—Ana won’t object to that. And the smallest settlement you can get away with, obviously. She’s making plenty of money herself now, and I’ve invested in her design company, she’s not going to jeopardize that.”
Tom fiddled with his tie. “Harry, her lawyer’s coming in with all guns blazing. And he’s good. Ana’s demanding half of your assets, plus both houses. She says the Menton villa was a gift.”
“Come on, Tom, they’re just trying it on.”
“I’m sure you’d prefer me to be frank.”
“You’re scaring me. What’s on your mind?”
“As you know, I had a meeting with your finance man, Colin Hale, to get the big picture. Much of your personal capital is tied up in Rose. The thing is, Harry, you’re already paying a substantial allowance to your first wife and your daughter Maria, and to Bennie Blunt for Henry. Now you’ll have alimony for Ana and maintenance for Eliza too. Both houses will go to Ana if it comes down to the wire. Rose is stretched—advertising revenue is dropping and you’ve invested heavily in the football channel, which isn’t likely to see a return anytime soon; losing out on the Premier League rights was obviously a setback.”
“Couldn’t be helped—I was busy trying to not die at the time.”
“Sure. But you’ll need to speak to your bank and your investors. You’re overextended. And the Chelsea house is technically a company asset, so if Ana gets that, it’s not going to help the cash flow.”
Lawyers and accountants. Always the voices of bloody doom.
“Ana’s not going to shaft me, Tom. I’ve invested in her design company, she can’t afford to piss me off too much.”
“Ana’s already in a position to pay off that investment. She’s doing extremely well.”
“Well, she wouldn’t be without my help. That’s the bottom line.”
“The bottom line, Harry, is that if it goes to court, and the court rules in her favor, your stake in Rose Corp. could be at risk, and your personal finances could take an enormous hit.”
“For Chrissake, Tom. She wouldn’t want to bankrupt me, I’m the father of her child!”
She wouldn’t do that to him, would she?
“It’s a starting point, Harry. That’s all. But unless you talk her round, this is going to be a long-drawn-out and painful battle. We can play dirty as you like, but there’s no guarantees.”
CHAPTER 37
Harry
It was the first warm evening of the year, and Harry, Charles, and Andre were sitting on the Hurlingham Club terrace sipping chilled New Zealand sauvignon blanc.
“Not a bad tipple, this one,” said Charles, holding his glass up to the evening sunlight. “Here’s to you—nicely played, Andre.” The powerful Russian had beaten him 6–4, 6–3.
“Was good match,” Andre replied. “And, Harry, you play soon too, my friend.”
“Yep, I’m stick-free at last.” That week, Harry had thrown it into the back of the cupboard of the St. Katharine Docks apartment he was leasing.
Megan had wanted him to find somewhere near them, but Harry had always felt drawn to the Thames.
The leg still ached, but he could walk on it properly now—his physio had worked wonders. He intended to kick the painkillers this summer, aware that the quantity he was taking was way out of proportion to the severity of the pain. But every time he tried to cut down, he’d get the jitters, couldn’t concentrate, couldn’t sleep.
“How is divorce coming, Harry?” asked Andre.
Harry’s smile faded. He wasn’t comfortable talking about his finances with Andre, aware that it was probably only their friendship keepinghim from putting the Russian boot in. The latest figures for the football channel were abysmal.
