Page 20 of Arrogant Heir
I was reeling and couldn’t face explaining to family and friends that he essentially dumped me at the last minute. Mum took care of some calls from our side of the family and there have been a few fishing texts, but on the whole people are leaving me in peace and I’m so grateful for the lifeline that is Greystone. Damian’s face looms in my thoughts again.
‘So, how are you getting on, Jamie?’ Arthur asks. ‘I trust Damian is giving you access to what you need for the book?’
I shake myself back to the present and say we’re making good progress. He tells me he expects Damian back later today, and my heart does a jagged skip and the adrenalin rushes through me. It’s because he makes me nervous, I tell myself.
After I wrap up here, I decide to go back to the cottage and edit the latest chapter ready for Damian’s eagle eyes. He doesn’t miss a trick, and I’ve fallen into playing a silent game with him where I give him the best possible chapter I can, barely drawing a breath while he reads it. If he can’t catch me out in any error, I win. If he finds something wrong, he wins. Silly I know. But that’s how we are. Silent games. An invisible war of wills. Call me crazy, but I think he knows we’re playing the game even though neither of us lets on.
It’s me against him.
‘Jamie?’ Arthur says, snapping me out of my head.
‘Sorry, I’m miles away! You were saying?’
We finish our tea and biscuits and I ask if it’s okay to record our interview. I want to know all about when he opened his first department store in London. I’m a business nerd and am excited. On days like this, I remember how lucky I am to have such a cool job.
I hit record, and he tells me his story…
CHAPTER15
Jamie
Arthur tells me how he left Yorkshire and moved to London as a lad. ‘I was determined to make my fortune. My dad didn’t approve—wanted me to stay and run our village store, but I had bigger ideas.’
I ask him what he thinks made him so ambitious. A country boy from a simple background. ‘What made you think differently about what was possible?’
He tilts his head to one side and there’s a look of Damian about him. His colouring is different, but it’s something about his expression. The old man still has a fine head of hair and is in great shape for his age. He doesn’t miss a beat mentally either and I’m pleased I’m recording our conversation, so I capture the nuances of his story.
‘If we can get some photos of your original family store, that would be brilliant. This is your start-up story,’ I tell him with a big smile.
‘Yes, I suppose it is. I haven’t spoken about my father for so long. The grandchildren never met him, you know. He died fairly young. Like Julian.’
His face sags and I ask if he’s okay to continue. ‘Yes, yes. Talking about those who have been and gone is hard, but it’s part of why I want the book. Soon I’ll be joining them, and the memories will wash away on the tides of time.’ He shakes his head. ‘I want future generations to know where they came from and how we built the business.’
Pausing the recording, I say that it makes sense to me, and although there’s no business in my family, I wish I knew more about my ancestors. I tell him I did some work on the family tree, but you can only go so far. You have their names and basic details, but without someone to tell their story, it’s incredibly difficult to get a sense of who they were.
He perks up and envelops me with his warm smile. ‘You’re wise for one so young, if I may say so, my dear.’
A blush creeps over my cheeks, and I feel slightly overwhelmed at these words of praise from the founder of such an epic dynasty.
We continue with his story, and he tells me he doesn’t know where his ambition came from, but he knew he wanted to create wealth and make something good for the world. He was determined his children wouldn’t want for anything, and he realised early on that he must get away from the small Yorkshire village where he was born, or he would be stuck there like the rest of his family.
‘So, on my eighteenth birthday—it was 1958—I packed a small bag stuffed with my few possessions and kissed my mother goodbye. She cried, bless her. She didn’t want me to go, but she said I must follow my heart and that she would pray for my success. I hadn’t told my parents or siblings about the scale of my grand plans. They’d think I had a screw loose. For them, owning the village store was as big an achievement as they could imagine. Many people lived in poverty in Yorkshire, so I appreciate what they achieved. We were a big family and none of us ever went hungry. If I was a different man, I’d have been happy to stay and run the store. As it was, my younger brother took over and did a fine job.’
‘Did you ever go back?’
‘Oh yes, a few times. But not until I’d created my fortune. That was a pledge I made to myself when I left.’
‘Were your parents proud?’ I ask, intrigued by the thought of his humble beginnings.
His eyes glisten and he nods. ‘They were. Dad had a hard time showing it. He was a man of few words, but I like to think he was. Mum was never short of words and told everyone within a fifty-mile radius about her son, the business tycoon.Yes, she was proud,’ he laughs. ‘Drove everyone mad with her chatter, no doubt.’
‘She sounds wonderful,’ I say.
He nods again and his eyes are watery. He reaches into his pocket, and I catch a flash of the Rochester monogram on his handkerchief. ‘Forgive me. I’m a sentimental old fool,’ he says, after he’s wiped his eyes and blown his nose. ‘Let’s not tell them how soppy I’ve become in my old age. My staff used to shake in their boots when I did the rounds of our stores when I was at the top of my game, but look at me now… A dreadful old sap…’
The more we talk, the more I warm to him. Building his business empire wasn’t easy, and he’s come through incredibly tough times. He tells me they nearly lost it all several times, and he had to rebuild again and again.
He replies when I probe some more, ‘I don’t know where my big vision came from, but I wanted to build a high-end chain of department stores to rival the likes of Selfridges. I was so inspired by the business leaders of the time. We were hungry for success, but it was still the post-war era. Times were hard, but I thrived on the challenge. Whenever anyone told me something couldn’t be done—and believe me, there were many—I set out to prove them wrong. I’m stubborn, which is not always a helpful trait. My wife used to say I could drive her mad. But in business, it kept me going.I absolutely refused to fail.’