Next in Line (William Warwick, #5)(16)

Artemisia held out her hands, while Peter asked, ‘Did she give me a present?’

‘Yes, of course,’ said William, producing the two boxes from behind his back. He handed them over, hoping the twins wouldn’t notice that one of the gifts was far better wrapped than the other. He needn’t have worried, because Peter ripped the wrapping off his present immediately, impatient to discover what was inside, while Artemisia took her time, undoing the silk ribbon and removing the pink paper, both of which would be given pride of place on her bedside table.

‘Wow,’ said Beth as Artemisia held up a small coronet made of shiny beads.

‘Is it real?’ she asked, clutching it tightly.

‘If a Princess gave it to you, it must be,’ said her mother, placing the coronet on her daughter’s head.

Artemisia ran out of the room to take a look at herself in the hall mirror, while Peter began to unbutton his pyjama top.

‘She even knows which team I support and that Kerry Dixon is my favourite player!’ he proclaimed, pulling on a Chelsea shirt with the number nine on the back.

‘And even more impressive,’ whispered Beth, ‘she knows what size he is.’

Artemisia reappeared, her head aloft as she began to stroll regally around the room, smiling and waving at the cat with the back of her hand. As she passed Peter, she said imperiously, ‘You have to bow.’

‘Chelsea supporters don’t bow to anyone,’ said Peter as he began to parade in the opposite direction, showing off his new kit to those seated in the stands.

Both parents somehow managed to keep straight faces.

‘Can I wear it to bed?’ pleaded Peter, after completing several circuits of the room.

‘Yes, of course you can, darling,’ said his mother, followed by a second ‘Yes’ to Artemisia even before she could ask. ‘But you’ll both have to write to the Princess in the morning and thank her.’

‘Mine will be a long and interesting letter, because I have a lot to say since I last saw her,’ said Artemisia as their nanny joined them.

‘Time for bed,’ Sarah said firmly.

‘I’m a Princess,’ Artemisia replied. ‘But you can call me Artemisia.’

‘Thank you, ma’am,’ said Sarah, giving her a slight curtsey, ‘but even Princesses need their beauty sleep.’

Artemisia gave her father a hug before she and Peter left the room, both chatting away to Sarah at the same time.

‘You’re a good man, William Warwick,’ said Beth as she bent down and kissed him on the forehead. ‘The coronet I believe, but not the Chelsea shirt.’ William smiled. ‘But now I want to hear all about your visit to Kensington Palace. What was she wearing? What did you have for tea and, most important, which paintings were on display that I’ll never have the chance to see?’

William was already regretting not lingering longer on the staircase while HRH was chatting to Ross.

‘All in good time,’ he said. ‘But first, there’s something more pressing we have to discuss.’ He hesitated for a moment, before asking, ‘How do you feel about having another child?’

Beth didn’t respond immediately, but finally asked, ‘What’s changed? After all, we’ve discussed the subject ad infinitum, and always come to the same conclusion. We simply can’t afford it.’

William settled back to listen to a speech he’d heard several times before.

‘We’re a typical modern couple,’ Beth reminded him. ‘We both have full time jobs, and wouldn’t want it any other way. You’re doing the job you’ve always wanted to do, and I don’t have to remind you how lucky I feel to be working at the Fitzmolean. Not only that, but as a Chief Inspector you can’t even claim overtime, despite the fact that your workload hasn’t diminished. To make things worse, I’m paid a pittance compared to men who do the equivalent job. Such is the lot of women who work in the art world, publishing or the theatre. But that won’t stop me pushing for change in the future,’ she added with considerable feeling. ‘Women will continue to be taken advantage of as long as there’s a surplus of eager candidates vying for every job, especially when they daren’t complain about the pay. And even then, a man far less qualified often ends up being appointed to the same job because he won’t be taking time off to have a baby!’

William didn’t interrupt her. He’d witnessed the same prejudice in the police force, where time and again women were passed over for promotion while less able men were advanced, often with the justification that ‘He’s got a wife and family to support.’ He decided to let Beth continue to erupt, and then settle, before he posed his next question.

‘And don’t forget,’ continued Beth, ‘we have to employ a nanny, who’s paid almost as much as I am. Don’t get me wrong, Sarah’s worth every penny, because she makes it possible for me to do the job I love. But whenever she takes a night off, we have to pay for a babysitter if we want to go to the theatre or eat out.’

The lava was still flowing steadily down the mountain towards him.

‘It was different in our parents’ day when it was assumed that women had been put on earth to raise children, clean the house, cook the meals and support their husbands in their careers. “Love, honour and obey”,’ she emphasized, ‘just in case you’ve forgotten, caveman.’