Best Kept Secret (The Clifton Chronicles, #3)(87)

‘If Jessica is good enough, and her art teacher assures me she is, the school want her to apply for a place at the Royal College of Art, or the Slade School of Fine Art.’

‘Didn’t Miss Fielding go to the Slade?’

‘Yes, and she regularly reminds me that Jessica is a far better artist at the age of fifteen than she was in her diploma year.’

‘That must be a bit galling.’

‘Typical man’s reaction. Actually, Miss Fielding is only interested in seeing Jessica fulfil her potential. She wants her to be the first girl from Red Maids’ to win a place at the Royal College.’

‘That would be quite a double,’ said Harry, ‘as Seb’s the first boy from Beechcroft Abbey to win the top scholarship to Cambridge.’

‘The first since 1922,’ Emma corrected him. ‘Turn left at the next roundabout.’

‘They must love you on the board of Barrington’s,’ said Harry as he carried out her instruction. ‘By the way, just in case you’ve forgotten, my latest book is coming out next week.’

‘Are they sending you anywhere interesting to promote it?’

‘I’m speaking at a Yorkshire Post literary lunch on Friday, and I’m told they’ve sold so many tickets they’ve had to move it from a local hotel to the York racecourse.’

Emma leant over to give him a kiss on the cheek. ‘Congratulations, my darling!’

‘Nothing to do with me, I’m afraid, because I’m not the only speaker.’

‘Tell me the name of your rival so I can have him killed.’

‘Her name is Agatha Christie.’

‘So is William Warwick at last proving a challenger to Hercule Poirot?’

‘Not yet, I’m afraid. But then, Miss Christie has written forty-nine novels, while I’ve only just completed my fifth.’

‘Perhaps you’ll catch her up by the time you’ve written forty-nine.’

‘I should be so lucky. So while I’m gallivanting around the country trying to get on to the bestseller list, what will you be up to?’

‘I told Ross I’d drop into the office and see him on Monday. I’m trying to convince him not to go ahead with the building of the Buckingham.’

‘But why?’

‘Now is not the time to risk investing that kind of money on a luxury liner while passengers are rapidly switching their allegiance to aeroplanes.’

‘I see your point, though I’d much rather sail to New York than fly.’

‘That’s because you’re middle-aged,’ said Emma, patting him on the thigh. ‘I also promised Giles I’d pop over to Barrington Hall and make sure Marsden has everything ready for him and Gwyneth when they come down for the weekend.’

‘Marsden will be more than ready for them.’

‘He’ll be sixty next year, and I know he’s thinking about retiring.’

‘He won’t be easy to replace,’ said Harry as they passed the first signpost for Bristol.

‘Gwyneth doesn’t want to replace him. She says it’s high time Giles was dragged into the second half of the twentieth century.’

‘What does she have in mind?’

‘She thinks there might be a Labour government after the next election, and as Giles would almost certainly be a minister, she intends to prepare him for the task, which doesn’t include being mollycoddled by servants. In future the only servants she wants assisting him will be civil.’

‘Giles got lucky when he met Gwyneth.’

‘Hasn’t the time come for him to propose to the poor girl?’

‘Yes it has, but he’s still bruised from his experience with Virginia, and I don’t think he’s quite ready to make another commitment.’

‘Then he’d better get on with it, because women as good as Gwyneth don’t come around that often,’ said Emma, turning her attention back to the map.

Harry accelerated past a lorry. ‘I still can’t get used to the idea of Seb no longer being a schoolboy.’

‘Have you got anything planned for his first weekend back home?’

‘I thought I’d take him to see Gloucestershire play Black-heath at the County Ground tomorrow.’

Emma laughed. ‘That will be character building, to be made to watch a team that loses more often than it wins.’

‘And perhaps we could all go to the Old Vic one evening next week,’ he added, ignoring her comment.

‘What’s on?’

‘Hamlet.’

‘Who’s playing the prince?’

‘A young actor called Peter O’Toole, who Seb says is the in thing, whatever that means.’

‘It will be wonderful to have Seb back for the summer. Perhaps we should throw a party for him before he goes to Cambridge. Give him a chance to meet some girls.’

‘He’ll have more than enough time for girls. I think it’s a crying shame that the government’s ending National Service. Seb would make a fine officer, and it would be the making of him to take responsibility for other men.’

‘You’re not middle-aged,’ said Emma as they turned into the drive, ‘you’re positively prehistoric.’

Harry laughed as he brought the car to a halt outside the Manor House, and was delighted to see Jessica sitting on the top step, waiting for them.