Several hours and almost four glasses of whisky later Adam sat in his lounge with his shirt sleeves rolled up and his rumpled tie still dangling drunkenly from his collar. Try as he might he couldn’t get himself to calm down, every time he came close he remembered the last words his grandfather had uttered and his simmering anger and frustration came to a roiling boil once more.

“Well look at the bright side darling,” Crooned a husky voice, “It’s not like you have to go and live in the godforsaken place. It’s just a marriage after all, not a binding contract.”

Adam lifted his gaze from his brooding study of the glass topped coffee table and gazed incredulously at his mother. Catherine shah, or Kat as she was fondly referred to among her friends sat upon the chaise opposite her son with a negligent grace which spoke eloquently of a woman who had always been regarded as a sensation. Her slender, manicured, red nailed fingers were holding onto a crystal stemmed glass half filled with sherry. Well groomed silvery blonde hair was piled artfully high on her head in a deceptively simple chignon.

For a sixty year old she still looked smashing, nary a wrinkle on her soft white skin or a line marring her smooth forehead. Her narrow, oval face with its arrogant aristocratic features still gave the illusion of middle age, thanks to the miracle of botox as she often called it and a strict diet which would have shamed a monk. That was why her slender figure encased sumptously in a five thousand pound Chanel suit was still the envy of women half her age, or so she thought. As Adam stared sullenly at her, he wondered how best to get her out of his apartment. All he wanted to do was get sotted and it was damn hard to do so with her tut tutting like an indignant hen. He needed to forget his worries for a while but it seemed his damn family wasn’t going to give him that chance.

“Do you want another drink?” He asked dryly instead of shoving her out the door, silently cursing his father for telling her everything.

With an irritated wave of her hand she stood up, eying her son through narrowed blue eyes which were mirror images of his own. “No I don’t want a drink!” She hissed incensed, “And I think you’ve had more than enough,” she added as Adam made to get up, heading for the miniature bar set up across the room. “You should be thinking about your strategy to counter this mess not getting drunk as a wheelbarrow.” She informed him shrilly.

"God save me from meddling relatives," Adam despaired for the hundredth time. First the confrontation with his grandfather and now this. It seemed the heavens were conspiring against him.

“Mother I have told you this before and I wont repeat myself again.” He explained, a tinge of impatience lacing his heavy baritone.” There’s nothing I can do. The company does belong to him, he has a controlling stake and he can bloody well leave it to anyone he wishes.” Adam held up his hand to stop her from interrupting him “As for a legal recourse I don’t think that’s going to work either, its only going to be a protracted slugfest not to mention a publicity nightmare which will hurt the company even more and shake investor confidence. Furthermore given the credit crunch hampering the economy and all the expansion going on we can’t afford to have any mishaps.”

“There must be something you can do for god’s sake. That bastard can’t just order us about for the rest of our lives.” She wailed “He is just doing this out of spite. That malicious old man is so filled with hatred of me that he’s taking it out on you. I just bet that evil old coot is savoring his ultimate revenge. He couldn’t get his son married off to the girl of his choice so now he’s getting back at me by forcing your hand.” She said bitterly, her anger increasing substantially as she realized that her own son was being forced into the same situation her husband had rebelled against so long ago.

Catherine had an almost overpowering urge to smash something, a habit which had cost her countless glass ornaments over the years, not to mention tons of money. Temper tantrums unfortunately were second nature to her. Taking a deep breath she tried to remember what her therapist had been telling her only yesterday, something about "Positive thinking and Karma" or some such, "Oh screw that!" she raged inwardly, valiantly refraining from throwing the ming Dynasty vase lying peacefully atop the chippendale side table to the tiled floor, “Oh why doesn’t he just die and get out of our hair once and for all. You would think an eighty nine year old would have the decency to cock up his toes by now.”

Adam stared at her warily and poured himself another whisky. He had always lived in the middle of a family battleground but his mothers hate filled words still had the power to make him cringe.

Catherine and her father in law had always been at loggerheads, ever since Adam could remember. Many a family get together had been ruined by their sniping at each other. It had made his childhood a living hell for he was always stuck between both the warring sides, constantly having to try and broker peace since his father had seldom stepped in. But Adam had borne the brunt of it since early childhood, for he’d been the tool his mother had often used to get back at her father in law. Often stopping her son from visiting his grandparents until she got her way. Afzal had never forgiven his son for choosing a white woman as his wife and consequently never accepted her as his daughter in law and Catherine had retaliated by driving a wedge between the families, a gulf that had still not been bridged.