Careless in Red (Inspector Lynley, #15)(183)

“Cadan, you just told me?”

“I know what I said. But I’d rather work for you.”

“Why? What happened? Adventures Unlimited not to your liking?”

“Nothing’s happened. I’m doing what you’ve wanted me to do. I’m thinking about the future.”

Lew looked out at the sea, where the surfers patiently waited for the next good swell. “I expect you have a plan of some sort?”

“You need a sprayer,” Cadan said.

“I need a shaper as well. Summer’s coming. We’re behind on our orders. We’re competing with those hollow-core boards, and what we have over them is?”

“Attention to individual needs. I know. But part of the need is the artwork, isn’t it? The look of the board as well as the shape. I can do that. That’s what I’m good at. I can’t shape boards, Dad.”

“You can learn to shape them.”

It always came down to this in the end: what Cadan wanted versus what Lew believed. “I tried. I wrecked more blanks than I shaped properly and you don’t want that. It wastes time and money.”

“You’ve got to learn. It’s part of the process and if you don’t know the process?”

“Shit! You didn’t make Santo learn the process. Why didn’t he have to learn it, start to finish, like you’re telling me?”

Lew gave his attention back to Cadan. “Because I didn’t build the goddamn business for Santo,” he said quietly. “I built it for you. But how the hell can I leave it to you if you don’t understand it?”

“So let me spray first, get that down pat, and go on to shaping afterwards.”

“No,” Lew said. “That’s not how it’s done.”

“Jesus. What the hell difference does it make how it’s done?”

“We do it my way, Cadan, or we don’t do it.”

“That’s always how it is with you. Do you ever think you might be wrong?”

“Not in this. Now get in the car. I’ll drive you back to town.”

“I’ve got?”

“I won’t have you driving Jago’s car, Cade. You’ve had your driving licence taken?”

“By you.”

“?and until you prove to me that you’re responsible enough to?”

“Forget it. Just bloody f*cking forget it, Dad.”

Cadan strode across the car park to where he’d left Jago’s car. His father called his name sharply. He kept on going.

He headed back to Casvelyn, burning. All right, he thought. Bloody all right. His father wanted proof and he would prove. He’d prove until he was blue in the face, and he knew just the place to do it.

He drove with far less care on his return to town. He blasted over the bridge that spanned the Casvelyn Canal?mindless of the yield to the oncoming traffic sign, which earned him two fingers from the driver of a UPS van?and he took the roundabout at the bottom of the Strand without braking to see if he had the right of way. He coursed up the hill and charged down St. Mevan Crescent and onto the promontory. By the time he reached Adventures Unlimited, in a lather was the best description of his state.

His thoughts ran circles round the word unfair. Lew was unfair. Life was unfair. The world was unfair. His entire existence would be so simple if other people would just see things his way. But they never did.

He shoved open the door of the old hotel. He used a bit too much force, and it hit the wall with a crash that reverberated through the reception area. The sound of his entry brought Alan Cheston out of his office. He looked from the door to Cadan to his wristwatch.

“Weren’t you meant to be here this morning?” he asked.

“I had errands,” Cadan said.

“I think errands get done on your own time, not on ours.”

“It won’t happen again.”

“I hope not. Truth is, Cade, we can’t have employees who don’t show up when they’re intended to show up. In a business like this, we’ve got to be able to depend?”

“I said it won’t happen again. What more do you want? A guarantee written in blood or something?”

Alan crossed his arms. He waited a moment before making a reply and in that moment, Cadan could hear the echo of his own petulant voice. “You don’t much like to be supervised, do you?” Alan said.

“No one told me you were my supervisor.”

“Everyone here is your supervisor. Until you prove yourself, you’re rather a bit player, if you know what I mean.”

Cadan knew what he meant, but he was sick to death of proving himself. To this person, to that person, to his father, to anyone. He just wanted to get on with things, and no one was letting him. That fact made him want to hurl Alan Cheston into the nearest wall. He itched to do it, to act on the impulse and to hell with the consequence. It would feel so good.

He said, “Fuck it. I’m clearing out. I’ve come for my clobber.” He headed for the stairs.

“Have you informed Mr. Kerne?”

“You can do that for me.”

“It’ll hardly look good?”

“Like I almost care.” He left Alan staring after him, lips parted as if he was about to say more, as if he was going to point out?correctly?that if Cadan Angarrack had some sort of kit he’d left at Adventures Unlimited, it would hardly be on the upper floors of the building. But Alan said nothing, and his silence left Cadan in command, which was where he wanted to be.