His Wedding-Night Heir Read Free

can't just walk all over us,' Leila informed
    her triumphantly. 'I say we picket the Town Hall. Carry
    banners saying "Save our Homes" and "Hands off Gunners
    Wharf". Chain ourselves to the railings if necessary.'
    Cally groaned inwardly. 'Why stop there?' she said. 'Why not
    march down the High Street and put a brick through Hartleys'
    windows?'
    Leila's eyes widened. 'Hey, that's not a bad idea.'
    'You're right,' Cally said shortly. 'It's more than bad. It's
    appalling—and illegal as well.'
    'Well,' Leila said defiantly, 'so is what they've done to us.'
    T was going to suggest a slightly softer approach,' said Kit.
    'Why don't a few of us go to the exhibition and actually talk to
    the developers? See if their scheme couldn't be adapted
    somehow to include Gunners Terrace. Suggest it could show
    the human side of big business. After all, they may not even
    know we exist down here. I bet the Hartleys won't have men-
    tioned it during negotiations,' he added grimly.
    There were a couple of upturned noses. 'I've heard it's all
    going to be yuppie flats and designer boutiques,' someone
    said. 'They won't want the likes of us making the place look
    untidy.'
    'And won't this Town Hall thing be invitation only?' another
    voice asked.
    'Well, Roy could get us the invites,' said Leila.
    'And it has to be worth a try, surely?' added Tracy.
    Kit gave her a warm smile. 'I certainly think so.' He paused.
    'Maybe you should be part of the deputation, with Cally and
    myself.'
    'Just three?' Leila queried with a touch of belligerence.
    'I think small could be beautiful under the circumstances,' Kit
    said smoothly. 'No use going in mob-handed. That could be
    seen as aggressive, and we want a discussion, not a
    confrontation.' He paused. 'Of course we'll be relying on you
    for the entry passes’
    There was a silence while Leila weighed her own
    disgruntlement against the good of the Gunners Terrace
    community as a whole. At last, 'Not a problem,' she said
    grudgingly, and there was a collective sigh of relief.
    'Is it really necessary for me to go?' Cally asked later, when
    she and Kit were momentarily alone.
    Kit shrugged. 'If we manage to talk to Eastern Crest's big
    bosses, it would be useful to have an accurate note of what's
    said.'
    'Tracy could do that.'
    He shook his head. 'Tracy gets flustered, and she's too in-
    volved to be objective anyway. She'll hear what she wants to
    hear. Besides, she's there for the sympathy vote,' he added,
    grimacing slightly. 'Pretty blonde single mother, whose baby
    used to be always wailing. That might tug at their hard heart-
    strings.'
    'Good PR—if slightly callous.' Cally doodled aimlessly with a
    pencil. 'What do you think the chances are?'
    'Of getting them to listen? Pretty good—especially without
    Leila threatening to kneecap them. Overall?' He shook his
    head. 'I'm not hopeful. Major property companies are money-
    makers, after all, not social workers.'
    'Yes,' Cally said quietly. 'They're generally not famous for
    their humanitarian qualities. They tend to have their own
    agenda.'
    'Therefore,' Kit went on, 'we need to present our case in an
    articulate and reasonable way—and pray like hell.' He paused.
    'Of course, what we really need is a deus ex machina—
    another rich philanthropist to make a counter-offer and save
    us all at the eleventh hour.' He grinned at her. 'Got many
    millionaires in your address book?'
    The pencil snapped suddenly in her fingers. 'No,' she said, her
    voice faintly hoarse. 'Not many.'
    'Nor me,' he acknowledged ruefully, and was silent for a
    moment. When he spoke, his voice was hesitant. 'After the
    meeting, we could maybe have some dinner—at that Italian
    place in the High Street. What do you think?'
    'Fine by me,' Cally agreed. 'But you'd better warn Tracy to get
    a babysitter,' she added disingenuously. 'It will do her good to
    get out for the evening.'
    Kit's face fell a little, but he knew better than to argue.
    When she was by herself again, Cally