Tiger by the Tail

Chapter 1

Attractive Jenni Lovelock stretched and yawned, looking out of her former bedroom window for the first time in seven years.

She'd arrived home the previous night from the UK, with a three-day stopover in Brisbane to reunite with her maternal grandparents.

Ah, the home-coming. What a disaster.

For a start, her mother Ruth hadn't liked Jenni's hair being long, and icily using the word 'blonde' at the airport for the naturally auburn-haired daughter as if Jenni was carrying an infectious disease on her head.

Then it was the turn of Jennie's body.

She was too thin and why had those breasts sprouted; had she had implants? At least her butt wasn't wide and poking out.

Fortunately, they were walking to the car park when that salvo was fired, unprofessionally considering who her mother was.

"Your mother, she's stressed out," smiled the shaggy dog who was her father, his greying hair six months from its last trip to the hairdressers; perhaps three months.

She loved seeing those smiling green eyes again. Jade green, which was her eye colour. Perhaps hers smiled like his, which could explain why eligible men were always hovering, one or two coming in for the kill or whatever they called it. Sadly, those males were in England and she as here, home in New Zealand.

End of story.

Perhaps not.

It could be time to captivate the heart of a good Kiwi (New Zealander) for a trip to church. She reminded herself she'd been thinking 'baby' for some time; she was thirty-three for heaven's sake.

On the walk to the car, her father had whispered, "I'm afraid my practice is failing, debts mounting up. The fear of scandal of financial collapse is driving your mother bonkers because of social repercussions. Please go easy on her J.L."

Impulsively, Jenni hugged him, not over any looming business calamity but because he'd called her J.L. which he'd always done until just after she turned fifteen when she created hysterically, insisting on being called Jenni.

Boys magically had begun appearing on the doorstep to her home and laughed when they heard her father would call, 'J.L. there's something that looks a scrawny specimen of the male species to see you', or words to that effect.

One of those callers asked if she were head of the women's division of the Mafia. That joke spread around school.

"Why is your business failing," she'd asked Shaggy Dog, not that she would ever call him that.

"It's because of my poor business management."

"I bet a charitable weakness and declining to chase up overdue billings is at the heart of your problem."

"Hush. Your mother. Don't set her off."

"If you promise to get your hair cut."

"You cheeky bitch," he grinned and she used that moment of intimacy to hug him and whisper she liked him calling her J.L."

"I thought you might."

In the car she'd said, "Tell me about your business woes?"

"Aagh," her mother groaned. "You told her, you fool."

"Cut the theatrics mum, everyone but dad knows you're hard as nuts. Give me the story; possibly I could assist by buying a partnership and taking over as managing partner."

Ruth turned around in her luxurious bucket seat of the eight-year-old car and positively gawked.

"Am I hearing correctly? In one of your emails, you stated you had landed a plum job."

"That was true, I'd the signed a contract. But Princeton Holdings Ltd was taken over by Australian investors and merged with its UK subsidiary manufacturing alcohol flavoured drinks production and my promising job as deputy CEO was no more because of the merger."

"I was declared redundant a month before I left England. I created a fuss and used a Legal Beaver specialising in employment issues but dumped the pathetic negotiator. I forced that company to accept independent mediation in preference to a long wait over haggling in Court and won in the telephone hook-up. I ended up with an apology and a cheque for £25,000 after expenses."

"Twenty-five thousand pounds, for doing nothing?"

"A bit like your work, eh mum? I'd fought tooth and nail because my pride was dented and I was returning home to no job. I'd sought £50,000."

"My God, you lawyers are really something, lawyers other than your father, that is."

"My father is a great lawyer, thank you mother. He can't help that he's a softie. We studied one of his strategies for winning civil actions in Law School, I'll have you know."

"What Chester Lovelock quoted at university; why wasn't I told?"

"Because you're never were interested in daddy in law, only in the cocktail circuit."

"Well, really!"

"Finger off the trigger, J.L."

"Yes daddy. Oh, let's talk business tomorrow."

"No, you'd be at a disadvantage suffering jet lag."

"Not so, I lost that in the spa pools with Grandma Ellen at the Royal Palm Apartments on the Gold Coast."

Looking at the old apple tree, no longer looking as robust as she remembered it, Jenni thought she'd stay resting until she heard the folk stir.

She decided to cook them breakfast, aware they always had cooked breakfast on Saturdays. She'd then send her mother off shopping so she could talk to her father without being interrupted with trivialities. She'd promise to accompany her mother shopping the following Saturday.

Memories flowed as Jenni looked around her old bedroom. This would do for a week max; then she'd need her own space.

Her mother wouldn't like that but her father would understand.

God, those two were so unalike. She loved her father and she really liked her mother. Liked? Yes, even Grandma Ellen only really liked her daughter. She'd confessed to Jenni that in the pools two days ago Ruth had not been a lovable daughter. Grandma thought nobody really loved Ruth, not even Chester. Grandma said Ruth had never learned to open her heart.

Although shocked at hearing that, Jenni recognised the truth as soon as grandma expressed it.

Jenni had always stopped short at thinking the worst about her relationship with her mother. She just viewed her as not being soft and accessible like most, but not all, of her friends' mothers. But as a wife and mother, she was always there. She was house-proud and a fantastic cook, providing almost everything a husband and a daughter wanted; almost everything.

Splitting the family turned out to be no problem. Ruth had already arranged to go shopping with Alice Reilly as Steven's summer sale was on.

Not unexpectedly, when she walked into the bedroom in a hi-thigh hemmed nightdress, Ruth told Chester to face the wall and keep looking there until his unsuitably-dressed daughter had left the room.

"Your father is a man, young woman," Ruth declared. Jenni resisted the temptation to scratch her head and look perplexed. Her mother was jealous because she had next to nothing on her chest. It had to be that because the nightie wasn't sheer.

"Put on a robe before you return with the food."

"I'll lower your pulse rate by getting dressed, mother."

Jenni couldn't resist it. When dressing, she left off her bra and threw on a loose polo shirt and a pair of white cut-offs. The guys of this world would think she looked sensational whereas her mother would be left either biting her tongue or pulling the bedclothes over her head and counting down from twenty loudly.

For some reason, her mother really liked putting on an act when 'her irritating daughter' was around.

Surprisingly, all her mother said was: "Promise you won't leave home wearing clothing like that."

"I promise."

"Don't leer at her Chester. Please understand she's in a provocative mood."

Ruth, a child psychology consultant at the Healthland Private Hospital, knew all about girls with behaviour problems and with little regard for authority and conventions.

Later, Jenni went weak at the knees when her mother backed out of the garage in a yellow BMW with the hood down, the interior beautiful in two shades of tan.

Ruth saw the admiration and called, "If you become my lovely daughter, you may get to drive this occasionally. I've had it for six weeks. It's disgusting that you father drives than eight-year-old Jag."

"Thanks. I'll probably buy a car on Monday once I know what salary and position that I have with the firm."

"Don't join him, Pet. He'd going bust."

"Not if I can help it."

"I expected you to say that, but felt I had to warn you. You always were a headstrong girl. Remember, that often landed you in trouble."

"His predicament really has upset me as we rowed about it. I piled in money to pull him out of the mire on two previous occasions and this time I refused. We went at it hammer and tongs. As you know, your father and I rarely row as he's too docile for the cut and thrust. That's why I enjoyed rowing with you. You began giving as good as you got from the age of eight."

"You enjoyed it?"

"Oh yes. Because I have to be passive and understanding in my work, I need release when away from my job."

Jenni risked it and said, "Hence that string of so-called uncles."

"Comments like that are best left unsaid, dear. Bye. Listen to the quadruple exhausts, that powerful rumble makes me feel alive."

Father and daughter sat at the small table under the window in a side room the family had always called 'the den.' It wasn't the home office, that was just inside the front door on the cooler southern side of the sprawling brick house with its wide dark-green painted veranda that Jenni used to dream about when living in England.

Chester began the business session in lawyer mode. "It is my duty to advise you, Jenni, that joining me in the firm is not a good idea. I'm nearing insolvency."

"Alas, that's the reason why you need me."

"I need you like a sore toe."

"I think I prefer you speaking like a lawyer."

Chester said he believed he could find her a great job in corporate law.

She said finding her a position in his firm was more to the point. "If we fail, then find me a job elsewhere; that would be great."

Palming his forehead as if clearing his mind, Chester sighed and explained the current structure of the legal practice, which specialized in family law and business law and offered traffic and general court presentation to existing clients only. The seven lawyers, including him, were supported by ten staff including three legal executives.

Chester indicated the average figures of monthly billings and outgoings and, with a sigh, admitted currently the office was only just breaking even. Three excellent months earlier in the financial year had been a God-send.

He eyed his daughter, looking somewhat embarrassed and invited, "Do you have you a proposal?"

"Yes, but first, is there room for me?"

"Fortunately, yes. Beth Copeland is pregnant and has resigned permanently with three weeks left to work. She would prefer going sooner."

"Excellent. In what area does she work?"

"Business law."

"That's even better. What's her salary?"

"She's a junior, $110,000."

"Do you own the whole shooting box or are their partners?"

"The bank and I own the business. I've offered three of my seniors partnerships in the past year but all three declined, no doubt because of the dragging bottom line."

"Right, I'll take Beth's workload at her salary on the proviso that I draw 10% of gross billings for 12 months on all new clients I introduce to the business."

"Are you sure?"

"Wait, I'm not finished. I'll need to come in as a partner from the outset, because when the business improves - and it will - as least one of those three previously offered a partnership will come wanting profit sharing. I suggest you take the title of chairman and I take over your title of managing partner."

"How much are you willing to pay for that partnership?"

Jenni pursed her lips and looked into space. "Not too much."

Her father swept a hand through his thinning hair.

"Although the goodwill in my business rates very highly, you are my daughter. I'm thinking $150,000 in three $50,000 instalments spread over say eighteen months. As partners, we split evenly any subsequent new partnership money that comes in; the partners would split evenly 40% of net profit above the first $50,000 and evenly contribute the agreed payment in the event of deficits required as working capital beyond normal bank overdraft. Profit build-up would be distributed as bonuses."

"Okay, you know the value of your business whereas I don't but I trust you. To give the business greater financial strength, I'll pay the one-fifty thousand immediately and suggest you don't draw it down until we have assured viability."

Chester asked when would she start work.

"Monday week but I'll come in for Friday night drinks when you can introduce me to everyone."

With his eyes wandering to the Saturday Herald morning newspaper on the table, Chester said they did not have drinks on Friday afternoons.

"Well you do now, every Friday except when it's a Public Holiday and staff know they are expected to attend, if only for thirty minutes."

Jenni was told she knew one of the seniors, Brett Winslow.

Her heart skipped a beat.

"Oh yes, an old high school friend. Is he married?"

"No but seems to circulate with two particular women very regularly."

"Together?"

"No, they seem to alternate."

Jenni last saw Brett four years ago in London. They had drinks and then they went on to dinner. Nothing came of it as he already had a woman with him. Perhaps he'd become really interest her if she cocked an eye his way.

She believed she was very capable of making that happen and he definitely qualified as a potential long-term mate and father.

"Welcome to the firm, Jennie. I'll go in this afternoon and draft our agreement. You best do something with your mother to keep her happy."

Chester sat down with his newspaper. Jenni said she'd fetch coffee. His phone went.

"Good morning Harris. No, I'm just reading the paper. Yes, by all means - just me and my daughter. Thirty-three. She's just returned from England to go into partnership with me. Yes, of course she's a lawyer. Well you don't have to be tied to me, if you'd fancy a younger lawyer, even a female, then look her over. Yes, I'd say she's attractive. Yes, definitely personable. Okay, see you soon."

"Who was that grilling you about me?"

"Oh, heir of the Roebuck millions. Harris is experiencing a power surge because his father has just installed him as CEO of Roebuck Industries, jumping him up from the relatively lowly title of export sales director."

"Harris has caught flak over that, what some fellow executives call his father's indiscretion. There's been a bit of a palace revolt. I've been a consultant to Leyland his father for years. The corporation has its own legal department and also works through Shield, Young, Hoeta and Sharrock. Leyland wants Harris to talk to me to try to get him focused and use strategy instead of temper outbursts to bring his executives to heel."

"Shouldn't this temperamental Harris be talking to mother?"

"Let's keep her out of this, thank you. Harris is no pussy."

"Well I'll be off, leaving you two alone."

"No, please stay for a while. Harris wants to look you over as he fancies being represented by a good-looking female lawyer."

"The arrogant bastard. Tell him to drown himself in the men's urinal."

"Darling, that's enough of London talk. Do this for me, please."

"Okay, but it'll cost him. Three hundred an hour. Tell him, and then give him the opportunity for you to invite me in to be looked over like a prize cow at an auction."

"This will be his first encounter with you. The policy of the practice is not to charge for the first half hour for a new client or prospective client."

"Fine, I'll do it but just for you. Then it will be the last I need to see of him."

Chester sighed. He urged Jenni not to get mad.

"He suggested if you measure up, he may ask your out to dinner tonight."

Jenni glared at her father.

"Give him the message about the urinal, dad. I'm off. I don't get pushed around by Big Heads. You should know that; I've been like it all my life."

Jenni changed into street clothes after doing her face and hair and then kissed her father goodbye. She refused to stay.

"Well, don't break a leg," he grumbled.

Jenni jerked open the front door, still angry about this Harris twerp.

She jumped; a guy was blocking her exit.

"Holy cow," the Twerp remarked, the whites around his blue eyes were red stained from either from lack of sleep worrying about the palace revolt or too much liquor intake; or probably both.

"Are you this Harris guy?"

"Yes. You father thought you were attractive. You're beautiful. Just look at you!"

"I would find that difficult without a mirror. Allow me to pass please."

"Certainly, um, no. Not until we fix our date for tonight."

"The only dates you're having come in packets from Egypt. Ask my father for my message about the urinal."

Jenni retreated via the kitchen and into the garage where she grabbed her mother's mountain bike. She frowned passing the Twerp's macho-looking big black wagon. As her temper drained, she wondered where that archaic word twerp had come from and then remembered: Grandma Ellen of course.

Turning left she cycled three blocks to the home of Wendy Steele; they'd been friends at university. It was great to have friends, thought Jenni. She could hear noise at the back of the house so walked around the small white-painted weatherboard house with its orange titled roof that Wendy had said in one of her recent emails she'd inherited from her mother.

The noise was Wendy screaming.

Jenni ran and saw some guy had her arm twisted up behind Wendy's back and obviously had hit her as blood was flowing from a cut above Wendy's right eye.

"Leave my friend alone, you pig," Jenni yelled, charging. She knocked them apart with her shoulder.

"You interfering bitch," he snarled. "A bit of a slapping will fix you."

Jenni stood calmly and as he threw an open palm to slap her face, she caught his arm and threw him, as she'd been trained to do. She then kicked him in the nuts, picked up his hand and stretching it tight, planted her foot against his neck. He was writhing in pain, groaning.

"Jenni, you stupid cow. That's my Bryan. Oh, what have you done to him? Go, get off my property you bitch!"

"Don't allow anyone to mistreat you like that, Wendy."

"Go!" Wendy screamed, "Or I'm calling the police."

Jenni departed from her now ex-friend, the loser.

Back on the bike, Jenni remember one of her mother's friends, the lovely Mrs Mack, who lived close-by. She found the house and there was Mrs Mack standing by the roses, pulling a thorn from the inside of her thumb.

"Yes dear, are you collecting money?"

"No," Jenni laughed. "I have enough to keep me off the streets."

Mrs Mack took a closer look.

"Oh Jenni, Jenni Lovelock. It's lovely to see you again. Ruth told me you were coming home. Just look at you, you've become thinner and yet filled out, if you know what I mean."

"I think I do."

"Oh, you look so beautiful when you laugh. Do come in. I was picking some roses for the table. My nephew is coming to lunch, you must stay. Ruth will be out shopping most of the day, won't she; it's Saturday?"

"Thank you but I can't intrude. I just dropped in to say hi."

"Nonsense, I'm pouring you a glass of wine then I'll set a place for you."

They drank wine and chatted.

Then Jenni heard the sound of a powerful V8 vehicle arrived and a 'thunk' as a heavy door slammed shut. Like a frightened rabbit she eyed the door she'd just come through and then turned to look at the back door through the passageway.

"What is it dear? Oh, never mind. Here's my step-grandson Harris. Come and meet him. He's my Jolene's step-son."

"But Jolene's only a couple of years older than me?"