Best Kept Secret (The Clifton Chronicles, #3)(41)

Giles had thought there was nothing his sister could ever say that would shock him. How wrong he was.

‘I’ve no idea,’ he eventually managed. ‘She hasn’t been in contact with me for over a year. But if you believe the Daily Express, she’s currently to be found in St Tropez on the arm of an Italian count.’

‘I’m sure they’ll make a delightful couple. More important, it gives you grounds for divorce.’

‘I could never divorce Virginia, even if I wanted to. Don’t forget what Mama went through. Not an experience I care to repeat.’

‘Oh, I see,’ said Grace. ‘It’s all right for Virginia to be gallivanting around the South of France with her Italian lover, but it’s not all right for her husband to want a divorce?’

‘You may mock,’ said Giles, ‘but that isn’t the way a gentleman behaves.’

‘Don’t make me laugh. It was hardly the act of a gentleman to drag me and Emma through the courts over Mother’s will.’

‘That’s below the belt,’ said Giles as he took another large gulp of whisky. ‘But I suppose it’s no more than I deserved,’ he added, ‘and it’s something I’ll regret for the rest of my life. Will you ever forgive me?’

‘I will if you come to my party, and apologize to your sister and your oldest friend for being such a chump.’

‘I’m not sure I can face them.’

‘You faced a battery of German soldiers with nothing more than a few hand grenades and a pistol to protect you.’

‘And I’d do it again if I thought it would convince Emma and Harry to forgive me.’

Grace stood up, walked across the room and knelt down beside her brother. ‘Of course they’ll forgive you, you silly oaf.’ Giles bowed his head when his sister put her arms around him. ‘You know only too well that Mother wouldn’t have wanted us to be kept apart because of that woman.’



As Giles drove past a signpost directing him to Cambridge, he thought it still wasn’t too late to turn back, although he knew that if he did, he might never be given a second chance.

As he entered the university city, he could feel the collegiate atmosphere all around him. Young men and women in academic gowns of varying lengths were rushing in every direction. It brought back memories of his time at Oxford, cut short by Herr Hitler.

When Giles had found his way back to England five years later, having escaped from a prisoner-of-war camp, the principal of Brasenose had offered him the chance to return to his old college and complete his degree. But by then he was a 25-year-old battle-scarred veteran, and felt the moment had passed, as it had for so many young men of his generation, Harry included. In any case, the opportunity to fight another battle had arisen, and he couldn’t resist the challenge of sparring for a place on the green benches of the House of Commons. No regrets, thought Giles. Well, there were always some regrets.

He drove down Grange Road, took a right and parked his car in Sidgwick Avenue. He walked under an archway declaring Newnham College, founded in 1871, before women could be awarded degrees, by a far-sighted visionary who believed that would happen in his lifetime. It didn’t.

Giles stopped at the lodge and was about to ask directions to Miss Barrington’s party when the porter said, ‘Good evening, Sir Giles, you’ll be wanting the Sidgwick Room.’

Recognized. No turning back.

‘If you walk on down the corridor, it’s at the top of the stairs, third door on the left. You can’t miss it.’

Giles followed his directions, passing a dozen or so undergraduates dressed in long black skirts, white blouses and academic gowns. They didn’t give him a second look, but then why should they? He was thirty-three, almost twice their age.

He climbed the stairs, and when he reached the top step he didn’t need further directions because he could hear exuberant voices and laughter long before he reached the third door on the left. He took a deep breath and tried not to make an entrance.

Jessica was the first to spot him, and immediately ran across the room shouting, ‘Uncle Giles, Uncle Giles, where have you been?’ Where indeed, thought Giles, as he looked at the young girl he adored, not quite a swan, but no longer a cygnet. She leapt up and threw her arms around him. He looked over her shoulder to see Grace and Emma heading towards him. All three of them tried to hug him at once. Other guests looked on, wondering what all the fuss was about.

‘I’m so sorry,’ said Giles, after he’d shaken hands with Harry. ‘I should never have put you through all that.’

‘Don’t dwell on it,’ said Harry. ‘And frankly, both of us have been through far worse.’

Giles was surprised how quickly he relaxed with his oldest friend. They were chatting about Peter May as if it were old times, when he first saw her. After that, he couldn’t take his eyes off her.

‘The best cover drive I’ve ever seen,’ Harry said, placing his left foot firmly forward while trying to give a demonstration without a bat. He hadn’t noticed how distracted Giles had become.

‘Yes, I was at Headingley when he scored a century against the South Africans in his first Test.’

‘I saw that innings as well,’ said an elderly don who had joined them. ‘A quite magnificent knock.’

Giles slipped away, and wove his way around the crowded room, only stopping to chat to Sebastian about how he was getting on at school. The young man seemed far more relaxed and confident than he ever remembered him being.