Celia’s solicitor advised her to cooperate truthfully with the investigation while protecting her own legal rights.
She provided records and explained the hotel arrangements, the expense submissions, and Adrian’s instructions.
Some of her actions were difficult to defend.
She had knowingly submitted personal hospitality expenses as business charges.
She had helped disguise certain meetings in his calendar.
She had also participated in processing consultancy payments without adequate supporting information.
She could not claim ignorance of everything.
She had chosen to facilitate the affair.
She had chosen to use company systems for personal purposes.
Her solicitor made this clear.
But the investigation also examined Adrian’s role.
Celia had not acted in a vacuum.
She reported to him.
He approved expenses.
He controlled the business relationships.
He had directed aspects of the disputed transactions.
Her testimony became important because it could be compared with documents, messages, approvals, and other records.
It was not accepted simply because she accused him.
Several statements required corroboration.
Some were challenged.
Celia attended interviews, corrected mistakes, and occasionally broke down when asked to explain decisions that had seemed small at the time.
She began to understand that loyalty was not a defence against evidence.
Adrian’s first attempt to regain control came through a letter.
It was addressed to Richard.
Written by his solicitors, it challenged the company’s actions and alleged that the investigation had been influenced by Iris’s personal anger.
The letter requested access to relevant records and an independent review of decisions affecting Adrian’s employment and contractual interests.
Some demands were legitimate.
Others appeared intended to create leverage.
Richard forwarded the letter to the company’s lawyers.
He did not call Adrian.
Adrian had expected him to.
For years, Richard had treated difficult negotiations as opportunities to speak privately and find a mutually acceptable solution.
Adrian believed the older man still preferred settlement to public conflict.
What he underestimated was how deeply the affair had altered Richard’s willingness to trust him.
One evening, Adrian arrived at Whitmore House without an appointment.
The housekeeper informed Richard.
He considered refusing to see him.
Then agreed to a brief meeting in the study.
Adrian entered wearing a charcoal suit.
He looked tired but composed.
Richard remained behind his desk.
They did not shake hands.
Adrian began by saying he regretted what had happened.
Richard waited.
He then described the professional damage caused by the wedding speech.
The lost opportunities.
The investors who had stopped taking his calls.
The humiliation of learning that the board had suspended his authority before he had received a complete opportunity to respond.
Richard listened.
When Adrian finished, he asked one question.
“Why did you come here?”
Adrian looked surprised.
“To discuss how we move forward.”
“Professionally?”
“Yes.”
Richard leaned back.
“Then you should speak to the company’s solicitors.”
Adrian’s jaw tightened.
“I thought we could talk man to man.”
Richard looked at him.
“We are.”
For a moment, neither spoke.
Adrian moved toward the window.
“I know you think I used Iris.”
Richard watched him.
“Did you?”
Adrian turned.
“No.”
“Did you ask me for forty per cent of the expansion business while planning to marry her?”
“Yes.”
“Did you conceal another relationship from her?”
“Yes.”
“Did you use company resources for that relationship?”
Adrian looked away.
“Some expenses were mishandled.”
Richard nodded.
“Then explain why I should separate your professional interests from your personal decisions when you repeatedly joined them yourself.”
Adrian stared.
There was no easy answer.
He returned to the chair.
“I love Iris.”
Richard looked at him for several seconds.
Then said quietly, “You keep offering me that as though it settles something.”
Adrian’s expression hardened.
“You’re not going to let me explain.”
“I’ve listened.”
“Then perhaps you should remember that Iris planned the entire spectacle.”
Richard stood.
Adrian fell silent.
The older man’s voice remained controlled.
“My daughter made decisions she will have to answer for.”
He looked at Adrian.
“So will you.”
For a moment, Adrian seemed tempted to argue.
Then he picked up his coat.
At the door, Richard spoke again.
“One more thing.”
Adrian turned.
“If you’re here because you believe my affection for Iris makes me incapable of judging evidence, you’re mistaken.”
He paused.
“And if you’re here because you think affection for you still gives you special access to this family, you’re mistaken about that too.”
Adrian left without another word.
Celia and Iris met again in January.
Neither had planned it.
They arrived at the same office building for separate appointments with the independent investigators and their legal representatives.
The building stood near Holborn, anonymous and modern, with a narrow reception area and lifts that opened directly onto polished grey corridors.
Iris entered carrying a briefcase.
Celia was seated near the lift.
For a moment, both women froze.
Celia stood.
Iris stopped several feet away.
There were no guests.
No champagne.
No music.
Only the low hum of the ventilation system and the sound of someone typing behind the reception desk.
Celia looked pale.
Her hair was shorter than Iris remembered.
She wore a simple navy suit.
Iris studied her.
For months, she’d imagined what she might say if they met again.
Accusations.
Questions.
A demand to explain why Celia had smiled at her during the wedding preparations.
Now, standing in the corridor, the speeches she’d rehearsed seemed strangely theatrical.
Celia spoke first.
“I didn’t know you’d be here.”
“Neither did I.”
A pause.
Celia looked down.
“I wanted to apologise.”
Iris watched her.
Celia continued.
“For the affair. For helping him lie. For everything I knew you didn’t know.”
Her voice trembled.
Iris looked away.
She had wanted that apology.
She had also imagined it would make something easier.
It didn’t.
“You were in my house,” she said.
Celia looked up.
Iris continued.
“You helped choose the music for our wedding. You asked whether I wanted the flowers changed. You sat across from me at lunch and discussed the honeymoon.”
Celia’s eyes filled.
“I know.”
“You knew what you were doing.”
“Yes.”
Iris nodded slowly.
For a moment, anger rose so strongly that she had to grip the handle of her briefcase.
Celia looked down.
“I convinced myself he was going to leave you.”
Iris considered.
“Did you?”
Celia hesitated.
“At first.”
“And later?”
She swallowed.
“Later I stopped asking questions I didn’t want answered.”
Iris looked at her.
For several seconds, neither spoke.
Then Celia said, “I’m not asking you to forgive me.”
“Good.”
Celia nodded.
Iris glanced toward the lift.
