The Sins of the Father (The Clifton Chronicles, #2)(97)

Lawson did not escort them to the drawing room, or even the dining room, but to his lordship’s study, where they found Lord Harvey seated behind his desk with two empty leather chairs facing him. He didn’t waste any time on small talk.

‘I’ve been informed by the Lord Chancellor’s office that Thursday September 6th has been reserved in the parliamentary calendar for a debate that will determine which of you will inherit the family title. We have two months to prepare. I will be opening the debate from the front bench,’ said Lord Harvey, ‘and I expect to be opposed by Lord Preston.’

‘What’s he hoping to achieve?’ asked Harry.

‘He wants to undermine the hereditary system, and to do him justice, he doesn’t make any bones about it.’

‘Perhaps if I could get an appointment to see him,’ said Harry, ‘and let him know my views . . .’

‘He’s not interested in you or your views,’ said Lord Harvey. ‘He’s simply using the debate as a platform to air his well-known opinions on the hereditary principle.’

‘But surely if I were to write to him—’

‘I already have,’ said Giles, ‘and even though we’re in the same party, he didn’t bother to reply.’

‘In his opinion, the issue is far more important than any one individual case,’ said Lord Harvey.

‘Won’t such an intransigent stance go down badly with their lordships?’ asked Harry.

‘Not necessarily,’ replied Lord Harvey. ‘Reg Preston used to be a trade union firebrand, until Ramsay MacDonald offered him a seat in the Lords. He’s always been a formidable orator, and since joining us on the red benches, has become someone you can’t afford to underestimate.’

‘Do you have any sense of how the House might divide?’ asked Giles.

‘The government whips tell me it will be a close-run thing. The Labour peers will get behind Reg because they can’t afford to be seen supporting the hereditary principle.’

‘And the Tories?’ asked Harry.

‘The majority will support me, not least because the last thing they’ll want is to see the hereditary principle being dealt a blow in their own back yard, although there are still one or two waverers I’ll have to work on.’

‘What about the Liberals?’ asked Giles.

‘Heaven alone knows, although they’ve announced that it will be a free vote.’

‘A free vote?’ queried Harry.

‘There will be no party whip,’ explained Giles. ‘Each member can decide which corridor to go into as a matter of principle.’

‘And finally, there are the cross-benchers,’ continued Lord Harvey. ‘They will listen to the arguments on both sides and then go where their conscience guides them. So we’ll only discover how they intend to vote when the division is called.’

‘So what can we do to help?’ asked Harry.

‘You, Harry, as a writer and you, Giles, as a politician can start by assisting me with my speech. Any contribution either of you would care to make will be most welcome. Let’s start by drawing up an outline plan over lunch.’

Neither Giles nor Harry thought it worth mentioning to their host such frivolous matters as forthcoming general elections or publication dates, as the three of them made their way through to the dining room.



‘When’s your book being published?’ Giles asked as they drove away from Ashcombe Hall later that afternoon.

‘July twentieth,’ said Harry. ‘So it won’t be out until after the election. My publishers want me to do a tour of the country, and carry out some signing sessions as well as a few press interviews.’

‘Be warned,’ said Giles, ‘the journalists won’t ask you any questions about the book, only your views on who should inherit the title.’

‘How often do I have to tell them that my sole interest is Emma, and I’ll sacrifice anything to be allowed to spend the rest of my life with her?’ asked Harry, trying not to sound exasperated. ‘You can have the title, you can have the estate, you can have all that therein is, if I can have Emma.’



William Warwick and the Case of the Blind Witness was well received by the critics, but Giles turned out to be right. The press didn’t seem to be particularly interested in the ambitious young detective constable from Bristol, only the writer’s alter ego, Giles Barrington, and his chances of regaining the family title. Whenever Harry told the press that he had no interest in the title, it only made them more convinced he did.

In what the journalists regarded as the battle for the Barrington inheritance, all the newspapers, with the exception of the Daily Telegraph, supported the handsome, brave, self-made, popular, smart grammar-school boy, who, they repeatedly reminded their readers, had been raised in the back streets of Bristol.

Harry took every opportunity to remind the same journalists that Giles had been a contemporary at Bristol Grammar School, was now the Labour MP for Bristol Docklands, just happened to have won the MC at Tobruk, a cricket blue in his first year at Oxford, and certainly wasn’t responsible for which cot he was born in. Harry’s loyal support of his friend only made him even more popular, with both the press and the public.

Despite the fact that Giles had been elected to the House of Commons by over three thousand votes and had already taken his place on the green benches, he knew it would be a debate that was due to take place on the red benches at the other end of the corridor in just over a month’s time that would decide both his and Harry’s future.