Master of the Game

Business school was an exciting new adventure. When Kate had gone to Cheltenham, it had been a chore, a necessary evil. This was different. Every class taught her something useful, something that would help her when she ran the company. The courses included accounting, management, international trade and business administration. Once a week David telephoned to see how she was getting along.

“I love it,” Kate told him. “It’s really exciting, David.”

One day she and David would be working together, side by side, late at night, all by themselves. And one of those nights, David would turn to her and say, “Kate, darling, I’ve been such a blind fool. Will you marry me?” And an instant later, she would be in his arms…

But that would have to wait. In the meantime, she had a lot to learn. Resolutely, Kate turned to her homework.

The business course lasted two years, and Kate returned to Klipdrift in time to celebrate her twentieth birthday. David met her at the station. Impulsively, Kate flung her arms around him and hugged him. “Oh, David, I’m so happy to see you.”

He pulled away and said awkwardly, “It’s nice to see you, Kate.” There was an uncomfortable stiffness in his manner.

“Is something wrong?”

“No. It’s—it’s just that young ladies don’t go around hugging men in public.”

She looked at him a moment. “I see. I promise not to embarrass you again.”

As they drove to the house, David covertly studied Kate. She was a hauntingly beautiful girl, innocent and vulnerable, and David was determined that he would never take advantage of that.

On Monday morning Kate moved into her new office at Kruger-Brent, Ltd. It was like suddenly being plunged into some exotic and bizarre universe that had its own customs and its own language. There was a bewildering array of divisions, subsidiaries, regional departments, franchises and foreign branches. The products that the company manufactured or owned seemed endless. There were steel mills, cattle ranches, a railroad, a shipping line and, of course, the foundation of the family fortune: diamonds and gold, zinc and platinum and magnesium, mined each hour around the clock, pouring into the coffers of the company.

Power.

It was almost too much to take in. Kate sat in David’s office listening to him make decisions that affected thousands of people around the world. The general managers of the various divisions made recommendations, but as often as not, David overruled them.

“Why do you do that? Don’t they know their jobs?” Kate asked.

“Of course they do, but that’s not the point,” David explained. “Each manager sees his own division as the center of the world, and that’s as it should be. But someone has to have an overall view and decide what’s best for the company. Come on. We’re having lunch with someone I want you to meet.”

David took Kate into the large, private dining room adjoining Kate’s office. A young, raw-boned man with a lean face and inquisitive brown eyes was waiting for them.

“This is Brad Rogers,” David said. “Brad, meet your new boss, Kate McGregor.”

Brad Rogers held out his hand. “I’m pleased to meet you, Miss McGregor.”

“Brad is our secret weapon,” David said. “He knows as much about Kruger-Brent, Limited, as I do. If I ever leave, you don’t have to worry. Brad will be here.”

If I ever leave. The thought of it sent a wave of panic through Kate. Of course, David would never leave the company. Kate could think of nothing else through lunch, and when it was over she had no idea what she had eaten.

After lunch, they discussed South Africa.

“We’re going to run into trouble soon,” David warned. “The government has just imposed poll taxes.”

“Exactly what does that mean?” Kate asked.

“It means that blacks, coloreds and Indians have to pay two pounds each for every member of their family. That’s more than a month’s wages for them.”

Kate thought about Banda and was filled with a sense of apprehension. The discussion moved on to other topics.

Kate enjoyed her new life tremendously. Every decision involved a gamble of millions of pounds. Big business was a matching of wits, the courage to gamble and the instinct to know when to quit and when to press ahead.

“Business is a game,” David told Kate, “played for fantastic stakes, and you’re in competition with experts. If you want to win, you have to learn to be a master of the game.”

And that was what Kate was determined to do. Learn.

Kate lived alone in the big house, except for the servants. She and David continued their ritual Friday-night dinners, but when Kate invited him over on any other night, he invariably found an excuse not to come. During business hours they were together constantly, but even then David seemed to have erected a barrier between them, a wall that Kate was unable to penetrate.

On her twenty-first birthday, all the shares in Kruger-Brent, Ltd., were turned over to Kate. She now officially had control of the company. “Let’s have dinner tonight to celebrate,” she suggested to David.

“I’m sorry, Kate, I have a lot of work to catch up on.”

Kate dined alone that night, wondering why. Was it she, or was it David? He would have to be deaf, dumb and blind not to know how she felt about him, how she had always felt about him. She would have to do something about it.

The company was negotiating for a shipping line in the United States.

“Why don’t you and Brad go to New York and close the deal?” David suggested to Kate. “It will be good experience for you.”

Kate would have liked for David to have gone with her, but she was too proud to say so. She would handle this without him. Besides, she had never been to America. She looked forward to the experience.

The closing of the shipping-line deal went smoothly. “While you’re over there,” David had told her, “you should see something of the country.”

Kate and Brad visited company subsidiaries in Detroit, Chicago, Pittsburgh and New York, and Kate was amazed by the size and energy of the United States. The highlight of Kate’s trip was a visit to Dark Harbor, Maine, on an enchanting little island called Islesboro, in Penobscot Bay. She had been invited to dinner at the home of Charles Dana Gibson, the artist. There were twelve people at dinner and, except for Kate, they all had homes on the island.

“This place has an interesting history,” Gibson told Kate. “Years ago, residents used to get here by small coasting vessels from Boston. When the boat landed, they’d be met by a buggy and taken to their houses.”

“How many people live on this island?” Kate asked.

“About fifty families. Did you see the lighthouse when the ferry docked?”

“Yes.”

“It’s run by a lighthouse keeper and his dog. When a boat goes by the dog goes out and rings the bell.”

Kate laughed. “You’re joking.”

“No, ma’am. The funny thing is the dog is deaf as a stone. He puts his ear against the bell to feel if there’s any vibration.”

Kate smiled. “It sounds as if you have a fascinating island here.”

“It might be worth your while staying over and taking a look around in the morning.”

On an impulse, Kate said, “Why not?”

She spent the night at the island’s only hotel, the Islesboro Inn. In the morning she hired a horse and carriage, driven by one of the islanders. They left the center of Dark Harbor, which consisted of a general store, a hardware store and a small restaurant, and a few minutes later they were driving through a beautiful wooded area. Kate noticed that none of the little winding roads had names, nor were there any names on the mailboxes. She turned to her guide. “Don’t people get lost here without any signs?”

“Nope. The islanders know where everythin’ is.”

Kate gave him a sidelong look. “I see.”

At the lower end of the island, they passed a burial ground.

“Would you stop, please?” Kate asked.

She stepped out of the carriage and walked over to the old cemetery and wandered around looking at the tombstones.

JOB PENDLETON, DIED JANUARY 25, 1794, AGE 47. The epitaph read: Beneath this stone, I rest my head in slumber sweet; Christ blessed the bed.

JANE, WIFE OF THOMAS PENDLETON, DIED FEBRUARY 25, 1802, AGE 47.

There were spirits here from another century, from an era long gone. CAPTAIN WILLIAM HATCH DROWNED IN LONG ISLAND SOUND, OCTOBER 1866, AGE 30 YEARS. The epitaph on his stone read: Storms all weathered and life’s seas crossed.

Kate stayed there a long time, enjoying the quiet and peace. Finally, she returned to the carriage and they drove on.

“What is it like here in the winter?” Kate asked.

“Cold. The bay used to freeze solid, and they’d come from the mainland by sleigh. Now a’ course, we got the ferry.”

They rounded a curve, and there, next to the water below, was a beautiful white-shingled, two-story house surrounded by delphinium, wild roses and poppies. The shutters on the eight front windows were painted green, and next to the double doors were white benches and six pots of red geraniums. It looked like something out of a fairy tale.

“Who owns that house?”

“That’s the old Dreben house. Mrs. Dreben died a few months back.”

“Who lives there now?”

“Nobody, I reckon.”

“Do you know if it’s for sale?”

The guide looked at Kate and said, “If it is, it’ll probably be bought by the son of one of the families already livin’ here. The islanders don’t take kindly to strangers.”

It was the wrong thing to say to Kate.

One hour later, she was speaking to a lawyer for the estate. “It’s about the Dreben house,” Kate said. “Is it for sale?”

The lawyer pursed his lips. “Well, yes, and no.”

“What does that mean?”

“It’s for sale, but a few people are already interested in buying it.”

The old families on the island, Kate thought. “Have they made an offer?”

“Not yet, but—”

“I’m making one,” Kate said.

He said condescendingly, “That’s an expensive house.”

“Name your price.”

“Fifty thousand dollars.”

“Let’s go look at it.”

The inside of the house was even more enchanting than Kate had anticipated. The large, lovely hall faced the sea through a wall of glass. On one side of the hall was a large ballroom, and on the other side, a living room with fruitwood paneling stained by time and an enormous fireplace. There was a library, and a huge kitchen with an iron stove and a large pine worktable, and off of that was a butler’s pantry and laundry room. Downstairs, the house had six bedrooms for the servants and one bathroom. Upstairs was a master bedroom suite and four smaller bedrooms. It was a much larger house than Kate had expected. But when David and I have our children, she thought, we’ll need all these rooms. The grounds ran all the way down to the bay, where there was a private dock.

Kate turned to the lawyer. “I’ll take it.”

She decided to name it Cedar Hill House.

She could not wait to get back to Klipdrift to break the news to David.

On the way back to South Africa, Kate was filled with a wild excitement. The house in Dark Harbor was a sign, a symbol that she and David would be married. She knew he would love the house as much as she did.

On the afternoon Kate and Brad arrived back in Klipdrift, Kate hurried to David’s office. He was seated at his desk, working, and the sight of him set Kate’s heart pounding. She had not realized how much she had missed him.

David rose to his feet. “Kate! Welcome home!” And before she could speak, he said, “I wanted you to be the first to know. I’m getting married.”