The Betrayal Read Online Free Page A

New York time means he’s probably still in meetings with Ed Jaworski. I detest Ed, with his phallic cigars and New York abrasiveness, but he’s the reason Tõnality changed from being a moderately successful supplier of musical instruments into the European distributors for STRUM. It’s a far cry from the early days when Jake worked from the barn in Sea Aster and Tõnality just consisted of a few guitars and drums for sale or hire. His brief fame with Shard — the band that almost made it internationally — had given him a certain cachet within the music industry, especially among the up-and-coming young bands who hoped to go one step further and actually make it. Within a few years he was able to move to Ormond Quay in the heart of the city. Tõnality became the place for young musicians to hang out, to check the guitars, have a roll on the drums, a tinkle on the piano. I joined him when the twins started school and took over the marketing side of the business. We set up a coffee bar and held open mic nights, impromptu music sessions. And that’s how we would have continued if we hadn’t met Ed Jaworski at a trade fair and took on the STRUM brand of saxophones, recorders, trumpets, ukuleles and mandolins. We expanded from our cramped city premises to the Eastside Business Quarter with its brash, modern offices and spacious warehouse. I can park here and move without fear of bumping into guitars but I still miss the sway of the Liffey outside the window, the footsteps of passing pedestrians stirring the heartbeat of the city.
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    T onight I eat well . A steak and salad, two glasses of wine. I enter my home office and wait for Jake to ring. I switch on my laptop and bring up the new marketing plan for STRUM. The demarcation line between home and work has become increasingly blurred these days and this office is as cluttered as the one in Tõnality.
    It’s after eleven and there’s still no word from Jake. I shower and slip on my pyjamas, apply night cream. The lines around my eyes look deeper, more ingrained. Laugh lines, as they’re euphemistically called. I see nothing funny about them. They’re chipping away at my youth when I still have to discover what it’s like to be young and carefree. Why hasn’t he rung? He knows how anxious I am about his meeting with Ed. This recession is relentless and Ed will be disappointed with the latest STRUM figures. They are within the agreed growth margin but Ed expects more. The concept of squeezing blood from a stone is not something he understands.
    My phone is out of charge. No wonder Jake hasn’t been able to get through. I ring him on the landline. Evening time in New York and he’s heading out for a meal. He sounds rushed, his phone on speaker. His echoing tone fills me with alarm.
    ‘What’s wrong, Jake?’
    ‘I’ve been trying to ring you all afternoon,’ he says. ‘Where were you?’
    I explain about Sea Aster and my phone being out of charge but I sense he’s not listening.
    ‘How did the meeting with Ed go?’ I ask.
    ‘I’ll tell you about it when I’m home,’ he replies.
    ‘Tell me now,’ I demand. ‘What’s happened?’
    ‘I’d rather not discuss it over the phone.’
    ‘Have we lost the STRUM account?’
    His silence confirms my worst fears. My mind goes into overdrive, calculating lost business, lost reputation, lost everything we’ve struggled so hard to achieve.
    ‘But why, Jake? Our sales figures are bang on target.’
    ‘He’s pulling out of our contract in case this recession affects the brand. He says it’s nothing personal.’
    ‘But that’s ridiculous. He can’t break our contract because he thinks there could be a slowdown in business.’
    ‘We’ll fight this all the way.’ Jake sounds too hearty, too confident.
    ‘You know what that will entail. We can’t afford a long, drawn-out legal battle.’
    ‘Look, Nadine, I’m heading out for a bite to eat and I’m exhausted. STRUM is not the be all and end all of our