.

.

.

VIII

THE BOARD MEETING

April 22, 1931

This diary has few pages left. That's why today, when I left work, I went to a stationery store and bought three more notebooks. I have the feeling that I will need diaries to relate everything that this year has prepared for me.

I'm happy. Today I rejoined the Shelby Company Limited and when I got to my secretary's office, I noticed that the door to Thomas's office was wide open and he was waiting for me. When Thomas saw me arrive he stood up and I went to where he was, not allowing him to go towards me.

"Close the door" he demanded.

I did what he said, although I could perceive that my heart was stirring restlessly in my rib cage. I was aware of what was about to happen and, being honest, I longed for it. I had been looking forward to seeing him again since he said goodbye to me, and I would be lying if I said that somehow I did not regret not accompanying him to London.

Thomas Shelby came briskly over and took me almost violently. Unlike the first time he had kissed me, I noticed in that kiss a significant degree of despair. He clung to the flesh of my hips like a hungry eagle and I couldn't help but jump when I noticed his hands slipping further below what I considered "allowed".

"I missed you," he confessed, interrupting the kiss with the same brutality with which he had started it.

"I missed you too, Mr. Shelby," I said, teasing him with the distance generated because I still wasn't call him by his first name. At that point, it was no longer a matter of trust, but I was simply doing it to delight in his reaction.

And Thomas' reaction was to scrutinize me with his eyes, somewhat disturbed and restless, but that did not prevent him from devouring my lips again and finally daring to got into my mouth with his tongue. I felt that I was choking on his appetite but I did not complain.

Three knocks on the door were enough for me to fall from Heaven into reality and become as stiff as a stone. Thomas stopped kissing me but didn't let me go and shifted his eyes to the door in front of him with annoyance.

"Who is it?"

"What do you mean, who is it?" I recognized the voice immediately and a chill ran down my spine. "It's your fucking wife. Open up".

Reluctantly, Thomas separated from me. I, on the other hand, had been immobilized, wondering what Lizzie would think when she saw me there, locked up with her husband.

Lizzie's expression when she saw me was just as I had imagined. When Thomas unlocked the door and opened it, she walked into the office believing that there was no one else there. She stopped perplexed when she saw me standing in the middle of the office, agitated and surely very flushed.

"Is something wrong, Lizzie?" Thomas looked at me first and then at her, who didn't take her eyes off me.

"Yes" The woman tried to snub me, pretending that she was suddenly unaware of my presence. "You're running late for the board meeting, and once again your cousin's wife disrespects me in front of everyone".

"I already told you that you give too much importance to what Gina says."

"That fucking whore..." Lizzie stopped her outburst of anger as she noticed me again. "Does she need to be here listening to what we're talking about?" Lizzie asked her husband.

"Olivia is my secretary. Plus, she's coming with me to the board meeting " Thomas said, putting his hands in his pockets.

The news surprised me more than Lizzie. Technically, it was my second day at work and I didn't know anyone else at this company other than Thomas and Ada. I knew the directory was made up of members of the Shelby family but I hardly knew their names and little else. I rubbed my hands together, victim of anxiety, but said nothing. I could not refuse. After all and beyond all, Thomas was my boss.

"Olivia is not your secretary. She's a friend of your sister who writes poems." Lizzie insulted me but did not address me. She spoke to Thomas as if I were an object unable to respond to her insult; and at that moment I decided to be that object: it was not convenient for me to argue with a member of the board of directors.

"She's a friend of my sister's who writes poems… and my secretary," Thomas said emphatically.

"At what point did you start hiring people at this company without first consulting with the board of directors? Have you forgotten that you are not part of it anymore?" Lizzie was getting more and more annoyed and the hysteria she let through in her words led me to realize that, in a way, she knew what had been happening in that office before she showed up.

"I started hiring people without consulting anyone because I think the fact of having founded this fucking company gives me the right to do it." Thomas was beginning to lose patience. "And thanks for reminding me that I'm not a member of the board of directors. I didn't feel like going to the meeting after all".

Lizzie snorted furiously and slammed the door out of the office. The scene that had just unfolded in front of my eyes spinned in my mind, generating a lot of doubts but, apparently, Thomas forgot it rather quickly.

"Olivia, make me some tea," he demanded as he made his way to the desk. "I have a headache".

"Mr. Shelby," I said nervously, "aren't you going to the meeting?"

"Should I go?"

"I think so," I answered doubtfully.

Thomas Shelby decided to take advice from an inexperienced secretary for the sake of upsetting his family and attended the board meeting, with me by his side.

Before entering the Meeting Room, the dispute that was taking place within it could already be heard. Two female voices were arguing in unison while another voice, this one male, was calling for tranquility and begging them to calm down. When Thomas entered the room, there was silence and all eyes were on us.

Around that table there were as many familiar faces as foreign to me. Ada, seeing me there with her brother, raised her eyebrows in surprise and blinked a few times. Lizzie crossed her arms and Arthur looked at us both, visibly confused. A blonde woman, my age or a little younger, whose elegance seemed to me similar to those of American actresses, looked me from head to toe and then ignored me; She looked very upset.

"Where the fuck is Michael?" Those were Thomas's first words at the board meeting. He had just arrived and was already fed up with everyone.

"Dancing in the snow," Arthur replied under his breath.

"As you can see, Olivia," Thomas talked to me and everyone there watched us expectantly, "I definitely left this fucking company in good hands," he said sarcastically and sat at the headboard. "Fuck", he cursed softly.

"Thomas," Lizzie called anxiously, "before you got here, Gina was arguing that we should invest in motion pictures, in California, which seems like reverend idiocy to me."

"Have you been to California, Lizzie?" Gina, who was the blonde woman, teased Thomas' wife. An aura of elegance surrounded her. "Of course not. I doubt that you have ever gone beyond the limits of Birmingham. You have no idea what you're talking about but I don't blame you".

"What you want is for the capital of the company to be invested in your country, isn't it?" Lizzie asked, very annoyed.

"Half of the Shelby Company Limited's capital has been invested in China." Gina shrugged, sipping her cup of tea. "Why not invest the rest in America? Also, unlike the Chinese, this would be a completely legal business".

"Here we go again." Arthur rubbed his eyes and sighed, exhausted.

In a matter of half a second, Gina and Lizzie were back in the agitated state they had been in before Thomas and I reached the Meeting Room. I watched the scene in perplexity, standing at the side of the table, while Thomas lit a cigarette and Ada gave me a look of condolence.

To some extent I understood why during all our years of friendship Ada had avoided telling me too much about her family. They seemed to be very passionate people and without a doubt, they did not get along. I also understood Thomas's need to ignore everything that had to do with the company, at least the businesses he could delegate to others.

"Sit down." Amid the shouting, Thomas pointed to the chair next to him.

The moment I took seat, another person appeared in the Meeting Room. He was a young man and as he approached the table, he patted Gina on the shoulder.

"Here comes the President," Thomas snapped.

"Since we couldn't start the meeting without you, I decided to go out for some fresh air," said who I assumed was Michael. "Now, can we get started?" Michael moved to the other headboard. "I see new faces here," he added, referring to me.

"Olivia Westerling," I introduced myself after a couple of seconds in which I waited, like an idiot, for Thomas or Ada to save me from having to talk. Apparently they were both too jaded from this reunion to do so. "I'm Mr. Shelby's secretary".

"Nice to meet you, Olivia." Michael pretended to be kind, though I could tell that he didn't like my presence there. "I am Michael Gray, President of this company and please do not be offended, but I do not understand why a secretary is sitting at the board table instead of serving tea and biscuits".

The attack did not surprise or offend me because, beyond his rudeness, Michael was right. My presence in that meeting was misplaced. The reason I had attended and sat down was because Thomas had demanded it of me and, as I said above, he is my boss.

And as boss, he answered for me.

"Olivia is sitting at this table for the same reason your wife is, Michael," Thomas attacked with his cigarette in his mouth, "and she is not serving tea and biscuits for the same reason that your wife is not at home taking care of her son".

"Good news, Tom," Gina said suddenly. There was a mocking smile on her face and, almost gracefully, she tossed a folder that slid down the length of the table to Thomas. "Finally, Polly has given me her share. I am the new member of the board of directors".

"How the hell did she convince her?" Thomas asked Ada, who was close to him and didn't bother to hide the volume of his voice. He wanted to be heard.

I saw Ada shake her head, hinting at her ignorance.

"Even if you don't like me, I'm part of this family" Gina wasn't affected by the rejection she generated from her relatives. "And as of today, my vote in this directory is worth the same as yours".

Thomas took a long drag on his cigarette and fixed his eyes on the folder Gina had gave him. At no time did he make the move to open it but I saw him close his eyes for a second, as if inside him he was praying for an immense dose of patience. I shifted uncomfortably in the chair and Ada, with her eyes, told me to get ready.

"Michael, I thought that by giving you the Presidency I was going to avoid all of this" Thomas pointed to the attendees with repudiation "That I would be able to dedicate myself to my horses, to my things, to my son's violin classes but… nevertheless..." he sighed, "I DON'T HAVE A FUCKING MOMENT OF PEACE!"

No one at that table moved one iota but I, however, couldn't help but wince. It was the first time I had seen him so upset, so angry. The arteries in his jugular bulged beneath the skin and his eyes were bloodshot. Apparently, this was a rather ordinary situation in the meetings of the board of directors of the Shelby Company Limited as, looking around me, disoriented by the reaction of those present, I found the indifference reflected on all their faces. Ada was the only one with a different expression: she was ashamed, surely because I was witnessing all that.

"I'm sorry to tell you that you're going to have to continue attending board meetings until our business with the Chinese is finalized," Michael said, unperturbed.

"The opium shipment landed in America quite some time ago," Thomas said, and I repeated in my head what I had heard.

Opium. That was the issue that kept linking Thomas to the Company. I am not going to pretend astonishment and pretend that I did not suspect that that company was dealing with illegal business because, since I became a little involved with that family, I knew that such a thing was feasible. What worries me is the connection with the mafias. If the Shelbys are involved in drug trafficking, it is obvious that they maintain contact with mafia organizations, in this case, the Chinese mafia.

"Olivia, you'd better go," Ada finally spoke, presumably pressed by the shame that caused her that I was a connoisseur of the secrets that she had tried for so long to keep from me.

I really felt sorry for my friend. She was not at all proud that such things were the true source of the Shelby's fortune and that she had somehow agreed to live on it.

"I'm going with you," Thomas said to me when he saw me stand up. "I have nothing more to contribute to this meeting".

"We are millionaires, Tom," Michael spoke quickly. "Since opium reached American soil, we have enough money to live without working and surrounded by luxury for five lives. And all this in the middle of an economic depression; Half the world is starving," he exclaimed, spreading his arms. "The Chinese want to continue working with us".

"Tell them the business is finished" Thomas bit his cigarette.

"Oh, I can't do that," Michael said and I saw Gina take his hand. "What kind of company throws a thriving business away?"

"A company that wants to return to legality." Thomas was starting to get furious once more and I wanted to get out of there.

"The Shelby Company Limited can't be legal." Michael smiled in a way that to my eyes was almost Machiavellian. "It will never be legal as long as Thomas Shelby lives".

To my surprise, Thomas did not respond, but turned his back on the directory and headed for the door. I followed him as best I could, even though he was striding and my heels didn't allow me to match him in speed.

Thomas entered his office and when he turned around to close the door, he noticed my presence behind him.

"I want to be alone," he demanded. He did not show his anger but the brightness in his eyes was able to reveal the fury he felt inside him.

"I'll make you some tea, Mr. Shelby." I tried not to sound intrusive, but I had a great need to make him feel better.

"Tea and biscuits." Thomas remembered his cousin's words and I saw him shake his head angrily. "What a jerk ", he said, referring to Michael.

"I was not offended by Mr. Gray's words." I tried to free him from that burden. "After all, that's what we secretaries do: tea and biscuits ". I smiled.

"You do more than that," he countered. "You also write poems". There was a pause. "Do you have a poem that you can read to me?" he asked.

I was hesitant for a couple of seconds remembering what had happened the last time I read a poem to that man. The wound that Thomas had caused still burned inside me even though everything seemed to have been resolved when he kissed me.

I looked over my shoulders at my empty desk and visualized the purse in which I brought my little notebook of poems with me just in case some event on the street inspired me to write.

"I can recite one I'm writing" I said doubtfully, "but it's not finished yet."

It was the poem I'd been struggling with the day Thomas Shelby showed up in my room. After he left and could not terminate the entry in this diary, I finally managed to give continuity to the poem, although not finish it. My experience had disturbed my mind and although I had tried so that my pen did not recount what I had lived, all my attempts were in vain.

"Sounds good to me." Thomas looked satisfied. "I'll accept the tea and the poem," he added, with a much calmer tone of voice.

I made the tea with such dedication and nervousness that if someone had seen me at the time, they would have believed that the person who was going to drink it was someone from royalty. I tried to prolong that ritual as long as I could, avoiding being, once again, the object of criticism. Yes, I knew Thomas would never laugh at my poetry the way Lord Pennington had, but even so, I didn't like having to face his review even if it was all flattery. I still wasn't used to exposing my work to anyone other than Ada or myself.

I entered the office carrying the tray. Thomas was at his desk with his glasses on, perusing a couple of papers. When he saw me, he put the papers aside, and I walked over to lay the tray on the polished wood of the desk. I took a seat in the same place as always.

I poured the tea and he watched my every move in silence. His gaze on me caused mixed feelings: on the one hand, it did not stop intimidating me but, on the other, I loved it.

"There's no biscuits, Mr. Shelby," I reported once I handed him his cup.

He was amused by that.

"Well, it will be tea without biscuits," he said. "What poem are you going to read to me?" He wanted to know.

I took my notebook which I had brought with me quite concealed, praying that he had forgotten to ask me to recite one of my poems.

"It doesn't have a title yet and like I told you, it's not finished," I reminded him, trying to discourage him.

"It doesn't matter," he shrugged and I cursed inside myself. He took a cigarette.

Through those eyes,
I perceive the poison,
so pure and immaculate
that drinking from them would be
an irremediable debauchery,

Through those eyes,
I recognize pain,
grief cradles me,
misfortune distresses me,
anxiety cramps me.

Through those eyes,
I identify the need for a kiss,
a kind word,
a tender caress.

Through those eyes,
I give in,
I don't fight,
I surrender.

When I finished, I took my eyes off the paper and fixed them on his, wanting to discover his reaction. Thomas was absorbed with his gaze on me and behind his glasses, I saw him analyze me.

"Who did you write that poem for?" He asked bluntly. I am risking saying that at that moment I perceived him jealous, but that was the feeling that he transmitted to me.

"For no one in particular," I said, taking refuge in the lie. "Most of my poems don't have an addressee, "I added.

" 'Most' ", Thomas repeated. "That means that some do. Tell me, what is it that leads you to write if what you write is not addressed at someone?" He wasn't questioning me, but rather, he was curious.

"What drives me to write is my passion for writing, Mr. Shelby, nothing more. Are you not passionate about any activity?"

"I love horses and everything related to them," Thomas confessed, sipping his tea. "Do you like horses, Olivia?"

I must admit that since I saw that huge painting in his dining room and began to know the places he inhabited, among which his office stood out, I knew that Thomas Shelby loved horses. Every site related to him had some equestrian figure or image, without exception, and as I once wrote in this same notebook, I knew that the Shelby business had grown out of equine racing.

"I like them. I had the pleasure of seeing them up close," I said and witnessed my response throw him off balance. "They're precious animals"

"Just see them?" He asked and narrowed his eyes.

"Yes"

"You never rode a horse?" He looked at me as if he had a being from another planet in front of him. The possibility that someone had never ridden a horse did not enter his mind.

"No" I confessed somewhat embarrassed.

Thomas opened his desk drawer and took out what appeared to be an agenda.

"I have an acquaintance who trains horses," he informed me, searching through the sheets. "I'll buy a horse for you" he blurted out suddenly "What would you like? A mare?"

The effervescence with which he addressed me caught my attention and the fact that he was giving me a horse alarmed me.

"Mr. Shelby, you don't have to ..."

"Of course I have to" he interrupted, almost annoyed. "No one who has never ridden a horse can work for me". I didn't know if he was serious or not. "Now tell me, do you want a stallion or a mare?"

"Whatever you think is best," I said quietly. His attitude was a bit intrusive to me.

"A mare, then." He took a drag on his cigarette. "I'll get in touch with my acquaintance right now and maybe, in a couple of weeks, we can go to her estate" Suddenly, I saw him smile. His attitude was too much of a contrast to what he had shown earlier in the Meeting Room. "I'll teach you to ride a horse, Olivia".

I nodded and smiled back. I accepted the fact that I was excited to receive any gift from him, whatever it was, and seeing him enthusiastic made me happy.