Chapter 61
61
THE MCARTHUR FOUNDATION FUNDRAISER – THE CRYSTALLINE HOTEL, MANHATTAN
‘Ladies and gentlemen, thank you one and all for attending this year’s McArthur Foundation fundraiser. It’s a pleasure to see so many faces, previous attendees and newcomers, here tonight to enjoy this fabulous event and celebrate all the good work the foundation has undertaken this year,’ Cynthia said.
The crowd all clapped their hands again and Oliver could feel the sweat on his palms as he stood in the wings. He was more terrified about this than he’d been about his first full meeting with the board of Drummond Global. He’d thrown up in the men’s room before that encounter. That was another reason he hadn’t got here for the meal; he just wouldn’t have been able to stomach it.
‘It’s five years since we lost my eldest son, Ben, and there isn’t one day that passes where he’s not thought of. He left a huge dent in our family but tonight’s McArthur Foundation fundraiser isn’t about dwelling on our pain and suffering…’ Cynthia paused. ‘Our loss… It’s about coming to terms with their passing and celebrating the lives of our loved ones…’
A murmur grew from the audience and his mother stopped speaking. She looked to her left and saw him stepping out onto the stage. People in the audience started to clap their hands and he willed his legs to keep holding him up. There were tears in Cynthia’s eyes as he met her, leaning to kiss her cheek. So many questions were written in her expression. He couldn’t answer them yet. The applause died down and, as he pressed the piece of paper to the stand, Cynthia left. He was entirely on his own.
‘Good evening everyone. I’m Oliver Drummond, the CEO of Drummond Global.’ He paused. ‘Tonight, just Oliver.’ He put his hands to the lectern. ‘Firstly, I want to apologise for interrupting my mother just then. I think I scared her half to death… because I was the very last person she was expecting on stage tonight.’ He cleared his throat. ‘Because… since my mother asked me to speak at this event, I’ve been thinking of every excuse I can to get out of it.’
There were a few rumbles of discontent and a couple of laughs before he carried on.
‘For me, heading up a billion-dollar corporation and dealing with difficult international negotiations on a daily basis is a piece of cake compared to standing here in front of you good people and telling you what this foundation means to me.’
He took a breath, looking out into the audience. He needed to find Hayley. He wanted to know she was listening to this.
‘For a very long time, I despised this organisation and I hated what it stood for. Everyone connected with it was still grieving, wallowing in death and illness and making plans to die. I have to say that scared the crap out of me. Why would I want to tell everyone about my feelings? Why would I want to drag up memories of my brother when all it does is rip my heart out?’ He paused. ‘For so many years, I wanted to forget him. I wanted to forget his death, pretend it never happened, because it tainted everything. It crushed my mother, it practically killed my father and it turned me into some sort of control freak in an ivory tower so high, Rapunzel would have needed hair extensions to get out of it.’
There were chuckles of appreciation and he picked up the glass of water on the stand and put it to his lips. He recomposed himself and started again.
‘Until today, I’ve been living a careless, meaningless, cheap kind of a life where nothing mattered to me other than where the next buzz was coming from.’ He swallowed. ‘I was afraid to make any connection that mattered, on a personal level and on a professional level too. I’m ashamed to say that apart from my closest team, I didn’t know the names of anyone that worked for me. And, what was worse than that was, I didn’t care.’
Hayley was shaking as she watched him, completely transfixed, everyone else in the room fading away. He knew the results of his test and he was stood on the stage pouring his heart out to a room full of strangers whose only connection was the failed health of someone they were close to.
Angel slipped her hand into hers, twisting her small fingers into the gaps to bond them tight as Oliver started to speak again.
‘I put work ahead of everything else. I wanted to waste my life on exuberance, because, without my brother, without my father, it all seemed pointless.’
Hayley watched Oliver look out into the crowd and she shifted on her chair, leaning forward a little, wanting to meet his eyes. Finally, their vision connected and she offered him a tentative smile, her eyes welling up with tears.
‘And then something changed,’ he said. ‘I met someone.’
‘It’s you!’ Angel whispered loudly, removing her hand from Hayley’s and doing jazz hands .
Hayley batted her vibrating fingers away, her attention solely on Oliver.
‘This person came into my life like a tornado – completely unexpected, going a hundred miles an hour and whirling up a whole lot of crazy.’ He took a breath. ‘And she saved me from myself without really even knowing it.’
Her heart contracted at his words. They were food to her soul, warming everything.
‘Just being with her made me see that I didn’t want my life to be meaningless any more. I couldn’t carry on treating my staff like crap, ignoring my mother because she reminded me of the family I’d lost, being emotionally absent from every single day. I had to make peace with what had happened, I had to embrace whatever future I had and I had to make the most of every minute. With the people I care about.’
The first tears were falling and she tried to push them back into her eyes with her fingers. She knew then what he was telling her. He had the same condition as Ben. It was confirmed. But he was now going to suck the life out of every moment he had left. With her.
‘The McArthur Foundation isn’t something to be feared; it’s something to be very proud of. With your donations and your publicity and your volunteering efforts round the clock, you’ve raised millions of pounds for essential research into all kinds of life-limiting illnesses and diseases. You’ve also funded the very first holiday home for bereaved families to go spend some time together after they’ve lost a loved one. I’m in awe of everything you’ve achieved this year. Thank you so much for your continued support.’ He put his hands together in applause and the crowd followed his action, all clapping their appreciation.
Hayley sniffed, wiping her nose on her arm as she stopped clapping .
‘So, without further ado, I want to introduce someone special to you all… the designer of the logo for the fundraiser tonight which is now going to become the logo of the McArthur Foundation. Miss Angel Walker.’
Hayley spun round to look at Angel. ‘What the… are you…’
‘Relax, Mum, I’ll give you credit for the slogan,’ Angel said, slipping out of her chair as the crowd began to clap again.
A sob of pride slipped out as she watched Angel move through the tables, the spotlight picking out the sequins on the silver party dress she had jazzed up with beads and diamantes yesterday. Angel mounted the stairs and held her hand out to Oliver. He gave it a business-like shake.
Angel put a clenched fist to her mouth and cleared her throat. She leant into the microphone like a professional. ‘Ladies and gentlemen, I give you the new logo for the McArthur Foundation and the new slogan. My mum helped with that, by the way.’ Angel paused until the audience were quiet. ‘Every single beat.’
The big screen behind them flashed on and Angel’s butterfly drawing had been turned into a platinum and turquoise graphic, its wings beating and flexing. With a bang like fireworks going off, thousands of glittering butterfly shapes began to fall from the ceiling of the room and people started to exclaim. There were joyous cries and hundreds of hands clapped together as the room was filled with as much thudding and stamping as a football stadium.
Oliver spoke over the noise. ‘Ladies and gentlemen, the McArthur Foundation isn’t about grief, it’s about courage. And just like the butterfly, some of us might not get long in this world, but we need to make sure that every single beat counts. Thank you.’
There was a roar of appreciation and people began to bang the tables with their hands, knock cutlery against glasses, anything they could to get their emotions across .
Hayley couldn’t wait any longer. She pushed past chairs, slipping her body past tables and clapping guests to get to the front of the room. Oliver was coming off the stage with Angel, Cynthia hot on his heels. She needed to know. She just needed to hear the words from his mouth and she would deal with it.
Oliver could see her heading towards him in the dress he’d ordered for her. It was perfect and she had never looked more beautiful, her sleek, dark hair shifting as she hurried past people, her eyes wide, those pert lips slicked with pink gloss.
‘Oliver, please,’ Cynthia begged.
‘Remember your promise,’ Angel said, tugging at Oliver’s jacket. ‘Proper dancing.’
He smiled at her. ‘I haven’t forgotten.’
Hayley rushed the last few steps and practically threw herself at him. ‘Tell me, God damn it. Tell me right now! I’m ready for it; whatever they said, I can handle it.’
Oliver could see the tears were leaking from her eyes and he looked away, towards his mother, reaching for her hand. He pulled Angel in close and took Hayley’s hand before he dragged in a breath that seem to take a long time to fill his lungs.
‘I don’t have the gene.’
‘Oh my God! Oh my God!’ Hayley looked to the ceiling. ‘I can’t believe it! Thank you, thank you!’ She threw her arms around him, clinging to him like a boa constrictor.
He looked to Cynthia and saw the release of years of worry in teardrops on her cheeks, an almost serene expression on her face. He squeezed her hand as Hayley hugged the life out of him.
‘I knew God couldn’t be that cruel,’ Cynthia said, slipping a tissue from her sleeve and dabbing at her eyes. ‘I’m so pleased for you, Oliver.’
‘Mum, it’s getting embarrassing now. You need to put him down,’ Angel said, folding her arms across her chest.
Hayley took a step back and Oliver smiled at her.
‘You OK?’ he asked.
‘I am now. I mean, I tried to concentrate on name places and the balloons and the butterfly net but all I could think about was you!’
‘Come, Angel, let me introduce you to some people,’ Cynthia said, clasping the little girl’s hand.
Angel made a V with her second and third fingers, putting them to her eyes and then directing them at Oliver as she moved away from them. Hayley flinched a little, looking confused.
‘Was that a threat?’ Hayley asked him.
‘Kind of. We made a deal last night.’
‘Oh no. What sort of deal? You know she has a poker face, right?’
Oliver took her hand. ‘I hope the jazz band can play some Maroon 5.’
‘I have no idea what you’re talking about.’
He looked at her, savouring the vision and breathing long and deep. It felt like a whole new world had been opened up for him. He didn’t have the rogue gene his brother and father had; he just needed to manage his stress better. He was going to do something he never believed he would be able to do and sign up for some counselling. Because he valued himself and he wanted a new start… with Hayley.
‘I know you’re meant to leave in a few days,’ he stated.
‘Yeah, back to England, jobless and facing a mother who has now read my ten-year diary.’ She was concerned about seeing her mother, raking over old ground, facing up to everything she’d written. But after their heart-to-heart on the phone, she was hoping things could move forward. Maybe notes about the past would forge a new beginning.
‘I don’t want you to go.’
He watched for her reaction, wanting to see how she felt about his statement.
She swallowed, affection for him written all over her face. He kissed her lips, softly, slowly, wanting to melt into the moment.
‘Stay. At least a little longer,’ he begged, smoothing her hair with his fingers.
‘I can’t. Angel has school and we have a ticket home I can’t afford to replace.’
He laughed then, loud and hard. ‘Hayley, I’m a billionaire.’
‘And you’re not going to stay that way if you keep spending it on unnecessary things.’
‘Oh believe me, it’s necessary.’ He smirked.
‘What about Angel’s school? She’s excited about showing off her collection of random objects.’
‘I’ll get her one of Donald Trump’s wigs.’
‘Seriously?’
‘No.’ Oliver laughed. ‘Come on, Hayley. How hard is it to say yes? Whenever you need to go home… if you need to go home, I’ll pay for your ticket. I’ll fly you in a private jet if you want, I’ll get a tutor for Angel… unless.’ He stopped talking. ‘Unless you really don’t want to stay.’
He watched her eyes, took in the indecision, prepared himself to be let down.
‘Are you kidding? Of course I want to stay! I haven’t set foot in Bloomingdales yet and I need to get better at ice skating. But I’ll need some proper gloves because the hand-warming couture might have looked cool but it was lacking in just about every other area. ’
‘Stop talking,’ Oliver ordered, leaning into her.
‘But I have to have to last word.’
‘Not tonight,’ he told her.
He pressed his lips to hers, slipping his hand around her back and pulling her into him. This was where he wanted to be, the room warm, the sound of happy voices, his suit covered in multi-coloured foil butterflies, jazz music starting up from the stage and the woman he loved in his arms. Lois and Clark. Together. Making every moment count.