The Talisman

Chapter twenty-three

After the initial shock, Edward set about preparing for fatherhood like a military campaign. He dragged Harriet to every possible doctor and discussed any foreseeable problems with the pregnancy. Harriet was tested, pummelled and prodded by the best gynaecologists in Harley Street. They discussed at length whether or not she should keep on with her medication. It was decided that she should stop, unless it became necessary again, as she wanted to breastfeed the baby. Edward read every book he could find about expectant mothers, babies, and depression. He was worried because Harriet’s age put her in a high-risk category.

He had even discussed this with Alex as Barbara was even older. Alex suggested that Edward talk the matter over with Barbara, but felt that as she had already had two children, she was not unduly worried. Barbara was the last person Edward could talk to, instead he took himself off to yet another specialist. He wanted to know the risks of mongolism, and whether the child could inherit its mother’s manic depression. He also brought up the matter of Harriet’s age. Edward had always lacked a great deal as a husband, but now, his care and attention to every detail was touching. His misgivings were discussed thoroughly by the specialist, and relieved by his confidence that after all the examinations Mrs Barkley should have a perfectly normal birth and most important, a healthy child. Edward even held the instruction book for Harriet while she learned the exercises. He attended sessions with a nurse brought in to instruct them both, and didn’t appear to mind panting and puffing alongside Harriet. A lot of the time she got into such fits of giggles that he was the only one left panting, the nurse standing over him telling him how to push. But under his loving care, she blossomed.

Harriet began to feel she had finally turned a corner in her life. She paid careful attention to her health, and took great pains to obey her doctors’ orders to the letter. Her vegetarian meals were carefully chosen and cooked to give her a balanced diet. She was blissfully happy, and what made her happiest of all was Edward’s adoration.

Work and the office could not be further from Edward’s mind. But when he received an urgent call from Skye Duval, Harriet persuaded him to go. He was reluctant to leave her, but she insisted.

Barbara heard about Harriet’s pregnancy from Alex. Edward had been loath to tell anyone about the forthcoming event because he wanted to be one hundred per cent sure nothing could go wrong. It was bizarre that both brothers should be expectant fathers, but even more ironic that both wives should be carrying Edward’s children. Alex had not the slightest notion that Barbara’s baby was not his, and was as excited and overwhelmed with the prospect of having a child as Edward. But Alex was left to run the company virtually single-handed, as Edward had done his usual disappearing act.

Alex had discovered the deeds for Banks on his desk the day Barbara told him she was expecting his child. He felt it was a lucky sign, that Edward had agreed to sell. He had no idea of the part his wife had played in persuading Edward to agree to the sale.

At first Alex presumed that the club was an embarrassment because of the bad press it had received, but when it was put on the market the interest didn’t come from the seedy club world he had once known. It was eventually sold to two financiers, both with excellent reputations in the City.

Aware of the club’s Mafia connections during Edward’s ownership, Alex had always disassociated himself with Banks. Now, with the club going legitimate, he made sure that he kept a share, seeing his opportunity to act as a silent third partner. The new owners closed the club for six months while it was refurbished, and when it reopened it was an exclusive gambling club for members only. It was fronted with such good names and links to the City that it seemed above reproach, and, as Edward had always known it would, the club became a gold mine.

Alex quietly paved his own way in the City, enjoying his forays into high finance more and more. He took a particular interest in arbitrage, a very complicated form of dealing which made money by seizing on anomalies in world currencies and interest rates. He opened up his own office and employed three slick young brokers, whose job it was to watch the money markets for opportunities. For example, if the dollar was 1.29 in Frankfurt, but in New York was fetching 255 Japanese yen, they would find a broker in Milan willing to sell Dutch guilders for 70 yen apiece. Meanwhile, the pound might be changing hands in London at 4.3 guilders. So if they pushed a million pounds through the sequence while the rates held good, from Frankfurt to New York, to Milan, to London... they could end up with a vast profit for very little time and effort. This was what attracted Alex to the City, it was like a chess game, and he was making a fortune.

The three young men spent their days scanning Reuters’ screens and ‘running’ on the Stock Exchange, enabling Alex to amass great sums of money with one hand while attending to the Barkley Company with the other. Also, since he had taken over the St James’ Bank, he was able to delve deeper into the property business unhindered by the necessity for loans from City banks. He worked best alone, without interference from Edward, and was more than pleased that his brother was out of the way. All company cheques required double signatures, but Edward trusted his brother’s business acumen and left signed cheques for him to use. Alex was going from strength to strength, ploughing Barbara’s fortune into the Barkley holdings and beginning to structure the massive takeover of Buchanan House, a vast corporation which owned restaurants, shops, and four department stores, nationwide. As he grew more confident of his prowess as a tycoon, Barbara became his ally, always at his side. She considered their social calendar, entertaining lavishly, and their connections enabled them to push their business upwards, step by step. Alex was happy — he was to be a father, and at last he felt fulfilled and contented.

Barbara never mentioned Edward’s name, and she rediscovered her love for Alex. In truth, she couldn’t help but notice that when Edward was absent, Alex was far more at ease. He appeared to be very much the head of the Barkley Company, and the business was run according to his instructions. Everything was legal, he was becoming a public figure, and the baby’s birth was imminent.

Edward didn’t stop to take his coat off. He hurtled up the stairs, dropping baby clothes and toys as he ran. ‘Harry, Harry, I’m home...’

Harriet waddled out to the landing. She was wearing a white maternity dress, and her hair was so long she had plaited it down her back. Wild curls framed her forehead, and escaped in small wisps at her neck. Edward thought her more beautiful than ever. He clasped her to him, crushing the flowers he had brought her and dropping more toys. He was deliriously happy. ‘God, I’ve missed you, have I missed you!’

‘Well you’ve not been off the phone — for a man who never used to bother to call you’re certainly making up for lost time. Now, wait until you see the nursery. It is, though I say it myself, a triumph... The cot was Dewint’s find, it’s got more frills than I personally would have chosen, but... Look, what do you think?’

The room was decorated in eggshell blue. All along one wall were toys, trains and boats and aeroplanes. ‘I’ve had such fun picking out everything.’

‘You’ve not been doing too much? You know you have to look out for yourself, remember what the doctor said...’

She gave him a slap, and told him Dewint even carried her handbag for her. She giggled and said she thought he quite liked it.

They sat before the blazing fire, discussing names. Neither of them mentioned the name Freedom, that was the past, this was the future... Suddenly, as she leaned forward to poke the fire, Harriet gasped, and put her hands to her swollen belly. The colour drained from her face and she winced with pain, clung to Edward... ‘Oh, God, something is wrong, get an ambulance... Oh my God, Edward, I’m losing him, for God’s sake help me...’

The ambulance took Harriet to the local hospital as there was no time to drive across London to the clinic they had booked. Harriet’s doctor was there within the hour, and she was rushed into the delivery room. Edward, who had studied all the procedures, had to remain outside, frantic with worry. Nurses came and went. He paced the corridor, lighting cigar after cigar, until at long last the surgeon came out and removed his mask. ‘Well, she’s all right — we’ve saved her.’

‘What about the baby?’

‘It’s the baby who’s all right, she’s a tiny little soul, but a fighter. You can see her as soon as she’s cleaned up. Harriet’s still out, she’ll be coming round in fifteen, twenty minutes.’

‘A girl? It’s a girl? Does Harry know?’ He shook his head. ‘Of course not... Is she all right? Is my wife all right?’

The surgeon led Edward to a chair before he could fall down, then sat next to him. ‘She’s a little cracker, but be prepared — she’s very tiny, weighed in at two pounds. But she’s got everything in the right place. She’s in the incubator, but you can hold her soon enough, okay? Want to come through? Then you can see your wife...’

He led Edward to the Special Care Baby Unit, past rows of bawling babies, to a side ward. There, in something that looked to Edward like a huge cake stand with a clear dome over it, lay his tiny daughter. A nurse, her eyes smiling over her face mask, beckoned him.

‘She’s a sweetheart, come on, take a look. You know, we had a fight on our hands, and she fought along with us.’

Edward’s heart was thudding in his chest, his lips were dry. He swallowed hard, leaned over and looked down into the incubator that was keeping his daughter alive. He gasped and smelt the disinfectant on his own mask. The little girl was like a miniature doll, and all he could think of to say was, ‘Look at her hands, look at her hands.’

The child was wriggling, and her miniature fingers were splayed out, pushing at the tubes in her nostrils. The nurse let him stay for ten minutes, and then they told him he could see his wife, she was coming round.

‘Has anyone told her yet? Has anyone told her the baby’s all right?’

The nurse shook her head. Harriet was not fully conscious, and he would be the one, he could tell her himself.

Edward took Harriet’s hand and she moaned, turned her head and realized he was there. As soon as her eyes opened he bent close, kissing her, whispering, ‘Baby’s fine, it’s all right, you did your stuff. We got the wrong sex, but who cares? She’s beautiful, and she’s all right.’

‘It’s a girl...? It’s a girl?’ She gave a deep, shuddering sigh. ‘Oh, it’s a girl, a girl...’

‘Hey, now listen, maybe it’s fate, and I don’t want any nonsense. We just thank God we have her, and I won’t leave here until you smile... Come on, give me one of your smiles.’

He stroked her forehead gently, and she smiled wanly. ‘Poor Norman will have to redecorate the nursery, we got the wrong colour.’ Her face puckered and she wept.

Edward kissed her tears. ‘My God, she’s the image of you, spitting image... Now you get some rest, I have to go and get some of your things, you left in a bit of a hurry.’

Alex arrived at the small, private clinic shortly before the child was born. Barbara was ready to go into the delivery room, but the nurse left them alone for a few moments. Alex sat close, wearing a green gown and mask and holding Barbara’s hand as she went into labour, never leaving her side throughout the birth. When at last he heard the baby’s cry his heart thudded, and he found himself weeping.

‘You have a son, Mr Barkley, and what a boy, he’s so strong.’

Alex was beside himself with joy as he held his son. He turned his tearful eyes to his wife. ‘Barbara, look at him, he’s perfect, he’s the most perfect baby I have ever seen... nine and a half pounds, nine and a half pounds...’

The baby was laid gently on Barbara’s stomach, and they both looked into the tiny face with the long, black eyelashes. Already he had curly black hair, and at less than one hour old he was the image of his father, Edward Barkley. Barbara could see only Edward’s face, the baby was so much his child that Barbara hated him. She turned away, unable to bear it.

Alex picked up his son and showed him off, proudly, to anyone he could find.

‘This is my son, my little boy... isn’t he the most perfect baby you have ever seen in your life?’

Left alone, Barbara prayed that Alex would never find out, never know the truth. She had spoken only a few words to Edward since hearing about the birth of his daughter. Harriet was still in the hospital, and rumour was rife about Harriet’s condition, her mental state — no one imagined there could be anything physically wrong with her. Barbara had said simply that if Edward ever gave so much as a hint of the true facts about her child she would make sure his darling wife tripped over the edge she was always teetering on. Edward was disgusted, and even signed a paper Barbara’s lawyer had drawn up.

Barbara had no fear that Edward would ever try to see his child, and she knew she would never be welcome at the manor. She had hoped for another girl, they were so much easier than boys. She wondered how Edward would feel about the situation now, she knew he had been as desperate as Alex for a son. She pursed her lips, thinking it served him right.

After a great deal of argument, Alex had put his foot down and chose the baby’s name. He had called Edward to tell him — he would be known as Evelyn. Barbara hoped he would change his mind and agree that Evelyn was not a boy’s name, but when she tackled him yet again he suggested she take a look at Evelyn Waugh’s novels. Barbara retorted that she’d never heard of her, either. Alex laughed and said he simply wanted to call his son after his beloved mother, and in the end Barbara had acquiesced.

Later that night, when the nurse came in, the baby was crying.

‘Don’t you want to hold him, Mrs Barkley?’

‘No, I’m too tired, you give him the bottle, I’m too tired.’

Harriet came home from hospital. She had recovered from the Caesarean operation, and showed no signs of the post-natal depression that everyone had been expecting. Edward sighed with relief, but it was just like Harry to break all the rules. The doctor did say to Edward that until the baby was well enough to leave the hospital he should keep a careful watch on his wife.

Harriet accepted her daughter, and called her Juliana. Joking with Edward one night she said that the baby was jinxed as all her nursery toys were for boys, and they referred to her as ‘Jinks’. The nickname stuck, and Juliana was known as Jinks from then on.

With Dewint, Harriet visited the baby daily for two months. The doctors believed that not bringing her home straightaway had worked to Harriet’s advantage. They felt that Harriet’s attitude to Jinks was slightly standoffish, she didn’t seem to want to pick the baby up or hold her. Part of the problem was that Harriet was afraid to — the baby was so tiny, so vulnerable. But the time she spent at the hospital with the nurses, learning to care for her, to feed her, gradually enabled Harriet to grow accustomed to handling the baby. Edward went along as often as possible, and it was with relief that he noticed Harriet’s increasing eagerness to visit her.

When at last Jinks was brought home, they hired a nurse to help out, at the doctor’s suggestion. They had chosen a pleasant Scottish girl who, being a vegetarian, had something in common with Harriet. The two got along very well. Mavis McCormick was sensitive and intelligent, and fully aware of Harriet’s problems. She knew when she should interfere and when to stand aside.

Edward had waited until his daughter was safely home before he broke the news that he would have to go away for a few weeks. There were problems in South Africa just as all the hard work of the last few years was coming to fruition. There were serious hitches and financial discrepancies that would have to be sorted out fast. Skye Duval was not answering Edward’s telexes, and his office phone had been left off the hook.

Edward left details with Mavis of how to contact him, day or night, if it should prove necessary. He was very reluctant to leave, but really had no option. Harriet was philosophical about it. She carried Jinks in her arms to see him off, waving the little girl’s hand as Edward got into the car. Then he got out again to give them both another kiss.

‘Okay, now you take care of your mother,’ he told Jinks seriously, ‘and when I come home I’ll bring you something special.’

Harriet, smiling, said if he brought anything more home for the baby, they would never be able to get into the nursery.

Edward had never been so relaxed and happy in his life, and he hated leaving. The thought of his family fed his anger on the flight to South Africa.

Skye had never seen Edward so angry. In all the years they had known each other Edward had never shown this icy fury, and he was terrified. Skye sweated it out as Edward went from site to site, checking and double-checking the company’s building projects. To all intents and purposes Skye had been running the company as Edward instructed, but there were big payouts, five thousand here, ten there, which were not accounted for.

Skye stuttered. ‘That MP you got, he’s in and out of the place all the time. Every time he comes here he wants more, he gives us a project and his hand is out... Take a look, he’s got an account here, one in Switzerland, and he’s even got me setting up schemes for his wife, his kids... I’ve been warning you about him, I sent you telex after telex...’

Edward swore. Walter was going over the top, feathering his nest at Edward’s expense, and yet they could do nothing. They needed him — his name had already got them into Mexico.

‘You think we could get these deals without him, Skye? Do you?’

Skye said they could, the company was now very prestigious, but he doubted if they could lose Walter. He would want to milk them on everything they built.

‘We’ll see about that... Mexico, how’s that going?’

Pulling out the drawings and the files, Skye showed Edward that Walter had once again taken a ten thousand pound bribe for his connections in Mexico. ‘He wants a share of everything, Edward. The guy is so greedy, he wants to be a rich man and he’s doing it on your back. But I don’t see how we can stop him. If word of his share in all these projects leaks out, it’ll finish his political career and at the same time wipe us out. The government would step in right away.’

They dined together at a very elegant restaurant. Edward chose a table at the back of the room, in a small alcove. He poured Skye a glass of Dom Perignon and toasted him.

‘Got some business to add to your already expanding duties. That land I own over at Ghost Mountains, I’m ready to begin work on it. I want all the tractors and digging machines driven over there at the beginning of next month. I have all the licences for blowing the place apart.’

Skye whistled. He had been waiting to see why Edward had been steadily buying up vast areas of land to add to the millions of acres he already owned.

‘It’s not for diamonds, it’s perlite... I’ve done a deal with some Americans to start mining for perlite.’

‘What do I get out of it, apart from more work?’

‘You’ll be handsomely paid, old bean, as always.’

‘The official will want a cut, plus the government, you know that?’

Edward ordered for them both, and Skye tossed the menu aside. He downed his champagne, ordered another bottle.

Edward mused, twirling his glass around. ‘Been thinking of floating the company on the London Johannesburg stock exchange, raise more money from Joe Public — make you a tycoon, Skye. I’ve made an appointment for you to see the solicitors tomorrow, Main Street, they’ll be waiting. I’m not interested in the stones, it’s the perlite I want. You’ll have the best man to help you, an expert on sedimentary rock, he’ll do all the assessments. I want to corner the whole market, become the sole owner of every perlite mine in South Africa, so I don’t want any leakage. I don’t want anyone to suspect there might be valuable stones there as well...’

Skye lit a cigarette and blew out the smoke, which formed circles above his head. ‘You’ll have to be fucking careful, man, that place could be more productive — surrounded by fucking oyster beds, you know, near the fucking coast. Could be showered with pearls, never mind fucking diamonds.’

Edward didn’t speak while the waiter served their meal, then he jabbed at the steak with his fork. ‘I’m arranging a method for getting the stones out and over to England... We are mining for perlite, sweetheart, anything else keep quiet about. I’ll get it out of South Africa, no problem.’

Skye toyed with his food, pushing it around his plate, his cigarette still burning between his fingers. ‘You’re the boss, man, but you want to get on the side of the blokes running the so-called “Illegal Diamond Division”. I’ll give you their names. They’ll turn a blind eye as long as you pay them enough.’

Edward nodded, chewing his steak, then spoke with his mouth full. ‘I don’t want a single mining house to get wind of this project. Next week I want you to go over to Sbwana Bay, and take your fucking quinine with you, it’s bush and more bush. You don’t go near the map companies, I’ve got some worked out. This is mouth shut time.’

‘Okay by me — fancy a trip, bored out of my mind on the building sites. You know how much the machines will set you back? Around fifty thousand — pounds, not dollars, sweetie.’

Edward pushed his plate away and wiped his mouth with his napkin. ‘I don’t like to push you, but I have a lot of money tied up in this deal, and I’m trusting you with it. Fuck me over, Skye, and you’re dead.’

Skye sighed, his voice quiet and pitiful.

‘I know, I know... I’ll see it through for you as I do everything else. Goodnight.’

Edward mentioned neither Harriet nor the child to Skye, and Skye didn’t dare to broach the subject. There was no friendship between them now and he knew it, had known it ever since he made that stupid pass at Harriet.

Edward, after a delay of over a month, eventually returned to London and went straight home. Even though it was after midnight, he went to the nursery to deliver the promised gifts. His daughter lay sleeping, her blankets kicked off, her fists curled tightly in sleep. He felt such a strong surge of emotion he wanted to pick her up and hug her, but he gently covered her and crept into the bedroom.

Harriet was sitting up in bed, a pair of glasses perched on the end of her nose. She gave him a wink and tapped her book. ‘Just checking up on the pros and cons of motherhood. She is extraordinary, I’m sure she’s advanced for her age. Do you know, I’m sure she almost said something... Did you see how long her hair’s grown? And she has a front tooth coming... You’ve missed so much, she’s nearly walking, and she holds on so hard. And when she laughs she tosses her tiny head back and gurgles...’

Exhausted, Edward undressed and climbed into bed. Harriet switched off the light and he pulled her close. ‘I love you, I love you both... I’m sorry to have been away so long, you get my letters?’

‘You know something, I asked that snooty bitch Barbara if she would like to have a double birthday party, and she refused. So I told her to bugger off. They’ll no doubt have the Savoy Grill, but... Edward?’

Edward was sound asleep.

The next morning, Edward went to see Jinks before leaving for the office. She was standing up in her cot waving a rubber hammer, and he picked her up, loving the smell of her. She nuzzled his neck and then whacked him over the head with the hammer. He laughed, and the little girl looked afraid, unsure, so he put her down and pulled a funny face. She responded with a smile that made his heart lurch.

He gave Dewint instructions to throw out his jeans and cowboy boots, then went straight to the barber’s to have his hair cut. He was buzzing, filled with energy and ready for anything.

Arriving unannounced at the office, Edward took the place by storm. He was like a whirlwind, and everyone jumped as he rampaged through the offices. ‘Where’s Alex, Miss Henderson, where’s Alex?’

Miss Henderson told him Alex would be at the Stock Exchange. Edward walked straight into his brother’s office and began sorting through all the business the company had done during his absence.

He picked up a vast ledger on Alex’s proposed takeover of Buchanan House. The major deal had fallen apart. Alex had been investing on the Stock Exchange and, by the look of it, had taken some bad setbacks, costing him a lot of money, added to which the property boom was beginning to slide. They were left with millions of pounds’ worth of properties they could not offload.

Edward paced the office as he discovered more and more of Alex’s disastrous ventures. He had taken over the St James’ Bank, and that was now being investigated for astronomical losses, and they stood to lose millions. Edward threw up his hands in despair. The property boom was fast becoming a landslide, and Alex had allowed loans to companies, taking their properties as collateral. Now many of those companies were sinking so fast that the bank looked as if it was on the brink of closure. On the good side, however, the Carnaby Street shops were making huge dividends, the money rolling in in waves. But Alex was moving it out again, and without Edward’s signature.

Edward checked over the Banks sale to Jasper Golding and Sir Francis Coleman, and discovered that it was yet again a flourishing, successful business. Renamed, the private gaming house was making a vast profit. From the documents he found in Alex’s desk he reckoned that the men’s stakes of one million each had already trebled... he also discovered the shares Alex had hung on to. He was furious, Alex was cheating him, going behind his back. Edward’s trust in his brother suddenly disintegrated — he was just like everyone else, like Walter, lining his own pockets.

Edward turned to the company’s financial records. It was more and more obvious that Alex had been steadily losing money, the company’s money. Edward sighed, so much for honest, straightforward dealing. To date, he alone had been responsible for the lucrative side of the Barkley Company.

He returned to his own office and began to outline a plan to salvage the failing St James’ Bank, to try to recoup the losses incurred during his absence. He was so engrossed in working his way through the files that he didn’t even look up when the door opened.

‘Well, well, this is your Uncle Edward, go on, say hello.’

Alex carried his son in his arms. Although the same age as Jinks, he was twice her size, and had thick, black, curly hair. His eyes were dark, his skin tawny, and his lungs were in good working order. He bellowed, wriggling to get down.

‘This is Evelyn — what do you think of him?’

He put the little boy down and he clung unsteadily to the desk, then fell over. Edward bent down and picked him up. He could feel how much heavier Evelyn was than Jinks.

‘He looks like him, doesn’t he Edward, like Dad?’

Edward looked down into the upturned face. Papers tumbled to the floor as the little hands grabbed.

‘You’ve got your hands full here, Alex, eh? What a big fella. So this is what’s been keeping you away from the office?’

Alex picked up the insult fast, and immediately led Evelyn by the hand to the office door. ‘Go to Nanny, there’s a good boy... bye-bye.’

Turning unsteadily on his fat little legs, Evelyn waved to Edward. Beyond the door a nanny in uniform waited for him. As soon as the door closed, there was a scream which continued into the distance as the nanny carried the wailing child away.

Alex looked at the closed door, then at the desk. ‘I see you’ve been over the files. I admit we’ve taken a few setbacks, but we lost the takeover of Buchanan House because you weren’t here and the board wouldn’t accept the deal without you... And you have the nerve to make digs about me not being in the office... where in God’s name have you been?’

A cigar clamped between his teeth, soberly dressed and with his hair cut short, Edward was back to his old self.

‘Well, it’s a bloody good job I showed up when I did, you’re certainly making a right balls-up of it. Christ, whatever made you buy stock in that fucking heap?’

Alex tried hard to control his temper. ‘I made a list of the properties we can let go, cover our losses.’

Edward tossed Alex his own list of companies they could sell off fast. Alex looked at them quickly, noting that they were mostly his own deals, and threw the paper back.

Miss Henderson heard the argument escalating into a full-scale row. Before long everyone could hear the brothers screaming at each other.

‘There’s not a memo or a note on Ming’s contract with the Japs that I set up. Do I have to do everything, for Chrissake? If she’s gone into business without us then we get over there... Plus we get shot of this prat of a son-in-law, what’s his name, Conrad St James. Guy couldn’t run a bowling alley, never mind a fucking bank! I want a meeting set up with all the board members of the bank and I want it fast... Think you can handle that, buddy? Think you can do one simple thing and not cock it up?’

All through dinner Alex was quiet, and Barbara knew something was wrong.

‘Edward’s back, things have not been going all that well, especially at the bank...’

‘Why didn’t you tell me, Alex? What things?’

Alex didn’t usually discuss business with her, but slowly he began to tell her about the problems. Conrad St James was proving incapable of running the bank, and Alex had delayed confronting him because he was married to Alex’s stepdaughter, Selina. ‘Edward wants to take a look at the accounts. I’ve had to fund a lot of the bank with Barkley monies... He has every right, I’ll go over and have a talk with them this evening.’

Barbara sighed. She had had very little to do with her daughter since she had been married off. With either of her daughters, come to think of it — her new life left little room for them. She was a grandmother now, and didn’t like that, either.

‘I won’t be able to join you, darling, I have a charity meeting for the Spastic Association, do you mind going alone?’

Alex held her hand and kissed it. ‘Just a few things to remember... Keep quiet about my stake in the club should Edward start sniffing around. Now he’s back, he’ll be poking his nose into every transaction I’ve done since he left.’

‘Did he ask after Evelyn at all?’

Alex smiled. ‘I took him to the zoo this morning and then Edward met him at the office. You know, he was jealous, I could see it in his face.’

‘You spoil that child, you know. Maybe you’ve been spending too much time with him.’

Alex gave Barbara a strange, veiled look, and spoke quietly. ‘Well, one of us has to.’

Barbara pursed her lips. She didn’t want to discuss it, they invariably argued about Evelyn.

Suddenly the little boy ran into the room. ‘Daddy... Daddy...’ He threw himself into Alex’s arms, and chortled with laughter as his father twirled him around, tossed him up in the air and caught him.

‘Who’s Daddy’s boy, then, eh? Who’s Daddy’s boy?’

Watching them, Barbara was terrified that Alex would notice Evelyn’s likeness to Edward, it was so obvious to her. ‘I don’t want Edward seeing him, Alex, he’s such a foul-mouthed man. I don’t want Evelyn near him.’

Alex held his son close and buried his face in the thick curls. ‘We’ll keep him away from the big, bad wolf... Now, Daddy’s got to go out, but... tomorrow, what are we doing tomorrow?’

‘Zoo... zoo...’

Alex carried Evelyn to the nursery and the nanny smiled. He so obviously adored his son, in a way he made up for the lack of motherly affection. Evelyn began crying because he didn’t want Alex to leave, but he got a tap on the nose and was told Daddy had important work to do.

When Alex arrived at Selina and Conrad’s house, he found his stepdaughter alone. She was a strange, quiet girl, and although he was fond of her he found her trying, she was so shy and introverted.

‘How are your boys?’

Selina murmured that they were all well, then lapsed into silence.

‘I really need to talk to Conrad urgently, you expecting him soon? If so, I’ll wait.’

Selina shrugged, her mouth turned down. ‘He comes and goes as he chooses, perhaps you should try at the office in the morning.’

Alex tilted his head to one side. ‘Nothing wrong between you, is there?’

Selina laughed, humourlessly. ‘There’s nothing between us, but I’ll pass your message on if I see him.’

‘I’d appreciate that, tell him we’re in trouble, Edward’s back, and kicking.’

Alex felt sorry for her, and made a mental note to have a word with Barbara, perhaps she should talk to the girl. He sighed, irritated by Selina’s lack of energy. She had everything money could buy, a handsome husband, two lovely boys, and yet she was never enthusiastic about anything.

Edward was sitting up in bed with stacks of files on each side of him. Dewint brought a dinner tray, and Edward lay back. ‘I dunno, I leave for a few months and he gets us into such deep water, you know what’s the matter with him, he’s a big softie; can’t do business on favours, keep it in the family, doesn’t work...’

Harriet shrieked for Edward. He leapt out of bed, overturning the tray, and ran from the bedroom. He threw open the nursery door. ‘What, for Chrissake? What is it?’

‘She’s cross-eyed — look for yourself, she’s cross-eyed. Mavis agrees with me — can you see, hold your finger up... See, it’s her left eye... Oh my God, she’s cross-eyed.’

Edward picked up his daughter and stared into her face, while she tried to ram her fingers in his mouth. She had round, rosy cheeks and auburn hair, darker than her mother’s, and strange black eyebrows. No one could actually describe her as beautiful, but to Edward there was nothing wrong that he could see. ‘She’s not, she’s just got strange-coloured eyes! You’re not cross-eyed, are you sweetie?’

‘She is! Give her to me and I’ll show you. It’s bad enough to have hair like a burnt orange, now she’s cross-eyed. There! See — the left eye swings in towards the corner...’

Mavis was hovering at the door, and Edward brought her into the debate. ‘What do you think, Mavis?’

‘Well, I’d no say it was crossed, maybe a wee bit lazy.’

‘Oh, bloody hell, you know what’s going to happen — she’s going to be one of those children with glasses and a patch over one eye. She certainly suits her name, she’s jinxed all right.’

Edward carried Jinks on his shoulder for a third opinion, and Dewint peered up into her face. ‘Well, I couldn’t say for sure, sah, but they can do wonders nowadays, you know. They can straighten it out.’

Proved correct, Harriet gave Edward a smug look. ‘Right, Mavis, we’re taking her to Harley Street. The last thing I want is a cross-eyed daughter.’

Edward shut himself in his study for the rest of the day. Late in the afternoon, Harriet returned with Jinks and stood, hands on hips, at his door.

‘Well, I was right, she’s cross-eyed, and it’s got to come from your family because none of mine squint — mentally a wee bit unstable, as Mavis would say, but no cross-eyes.’

Edward laughed, and she sat on his knee. It was the first time she had ever referred to her own condition with humour. She became serious, and told him they could operate, but not for a few years, then she burst into tears. ‘Oh, God, Edward, she’s going to have to wear glasses, and when she goes to school they’ll call her four-eyes, or three, because one side of the glasses will have to be blanked out. I knew it, I told you.’

Edward rubbed his head. His mind was still on the work littering his desk. He suggested they should get opinions from two or three specialists before they took any drastic steps.

‘I’ve been to the very best man at Great Ormond Street, and they said they will give her glasses and operate when it’s time. Well, you’re obviously busy and I’m obviously interrupting you, so I’ll let you get on with it.’

She waltzed out, and Edward shut the door. But after a moment, unable to concentrate, he went up to the nursery. He sat with Mavis — he found her a pleasant girl, and she adored Jinks.

‘Mavis, you know about Mrs Barkley? Well, she seems just a little frantic over this eye business. How do you think she is?’

‘Och, she’s lovely, and she’s such a sweet nature. She’s the easiest child I’ve ever taken care of.’

‘I meant Mrs Barkley, Mavis... Do me a favour and watch over her, just as much as Jinks. If she starts... well, acting a little bit strange, even the tiniest bit, let me know.’

‘Oh, yes, Mr Barkley, I will... And I’d like to say... well, I’d just like to say how much I like working here and how much I like your wife — she’s a verra special person.’

‘She is, Mavis, she is...’

Alex had to admire the way his brother had grasped the complexities of the banking system, and the formula they would use to put the bank back on its feet. All loans would be foreclosed on immediately, and those unable to meet the deadline would have to offer their companies to the bank. The Barkley Company was ready to ‘take a spin in the City’, and Edward had earmarked certain companies they would be able to ‘pump up’ and use inflated share prices. Conrad was staggered, said they could not even attempt to hoodwink the City in that manner, it would have a catastrophic effect on any later dealings.

‘The City has its own laws, we would be blacklisted.’

Edward snapped that they would only be blacklisted if they were caught. From what he had gathered, the City was as crooked as any other business. ‘All bloody used car dealers, Conrad son, and we will go in right at the top, offering companies that have good turnovers. The attitude to take is, if they can’t come up with the repayments then it’s their loss, the bank will not take the fall. They will all have the opportunity, and the Barkley Company will stand behind the bank, taking forty-five per cent of the shares of those with a high turnover... My company, however, will not make a penny from the issue, just the shares after the float.’

Conrad gasped as Edward continued to earmark one company after another, and he interrupted Edward. ‘Does your company have the financial backing for these negotiations? You are talking about millions?’

Alex looked at his brother and waited.

‘We have the finances. Second in line for this morning’s meeting is the takeover of Buchanan House. Alex lost to an Arabian company, and I believe they have over-extended themselves, judging by their unaudited mid-term accounts for ‘74. Their interest payment is five million, but the Buchanan’s board of directors show a profit of thirty-eight million. Therefore it’s inevitable that interest payments on Buchanan’s own borrowings are a substantial hole, the company had to borrow extensively to get Buchanan House... So, Alex, let’s move in fast, this is not for public knowledge.’

Before Alex and Conrad had a chance to digest all of Edward’s schemes he had gone, hurrying to his next meeting.

‘He’ll never pull it off, Alex, it’s madness. We’ll all go down, not just the bank.’

Alex was already on the phone, arranging to meet the brokers for Buchanan House. He put his hand over the mouthpiece. ‘Do exactly as he says. I mean it — don’t trust him, ever, but believe me, he has the Midas touch.’

Edward had never lost money, not on any of the insurance companies, his properties, his sidelines. Everything he touched turned to gold. As much as Alex hated his brother, he would never question his decisions again. He would do what he was instructed to do, and do it to the letter.

Edward continued to work at the pace he had set himself, day in, day out. He was at the office from seven in the morning until after nine at night. He was aware of Alex’s change of attitude — he listened attentively, never argued, and carried out Edward’s commands with precision.

Edward’s own businesses, his private deals and the bribes were for his eyes only, no one else ever knew what he was doing. Walter was still proving troublesome, and even though he had made his fortune from Edward’s backhanders he wanted more. His political career was taking off. He was in the public eye, and he lived well, spending many evenings at the house in Notting Hill Gate.

Once again Edward would use his ‘hit list’, his old blackmail tricks. Allard was easy to keep silenced and in line. He was still employed by Lloyd’s, but now in a higher position, he would never want it known about his payoffs. Edward worked behind the scenes, and Henry Blackwell was taken aback to discover exactly which family he had unwittingly married into. When he had met Annabelle Barkley he had been totally unaware of her connection with Edward Stubbs, the student he had known at Cambridge. He had kept his secret, and was now even more desperate to keep his past relationship with Allard quiet, not only for the sake of his rich young wife, but there was also his political career to consider. He was treading the same dangerous ground as Walter, accepting money from Edward in the same way. In return, he leaked crucial information on companies just before they went public, enabling Edward to buy in at just the right time. Edward’s move into the City was rapid, and caused a storm; within months he became a force to be reckoned with. Once again the Barkley Company was rearing its head as a formidable power.

Alex was unaware of how Edward was able to secure so many intros into the City in such a short time. He settled down, obeying his brother’s instructions. Edward only allowed Alex access to certain accounts, and just as long as he kept in line, behaved himself, Edward would carry him along. Their nets spread, the brothers moved upwards yet again, becoming accepted in every social circle. They were pillars of society, and the more respect they gained, the more financially secure they grew.

Once the company was ticking over smoothly again the Barkley Company was stronger than ever, and Alex didn’t question Edward’s decisions because it was Alex who enjoyed the fame, received the glory. In the society columns they always tagged the word ‘tycoon’ to his name. It was as if he had won himself a title, and confirmed that he had arrived.

To the outside world he might be ‘Mr Tycoon’, but in the office he was still under Edward’s thumb.

Edward buzzed to ask Alex to go in, and tossed him a first-class air ticket. ‘I want you on the first plane to New York — I want this Ming affair settled once and for all. If you can’t handle it, telex me — but try, Alex. All you’ve got to do is read through all these notes I’ve prepared for you and that’s it, all right?’

Alex nodded and picked up the papers. He walked out, shutting the door quietly behind him. The higher they rose, the more delight Edward took in treating him like a clerk. If Alex protested he was told that he got the publicity, he was the Barkley tycoon, and if he wanted to keep it that way there had better be no arguments.

Alex and Ming were like strangers. She was very cool and restrained. They had not met since his marriage to Barbara, and Alex knew he would have to broach the subject sooner or later. He ordered dinner in his room, feeling it would be easier to talk there, in privacy, than in a restaurant. He tried to relax, but he was tense, ill at ease. She looked stunningly beautiful, and gave him her familiar bow rather than shake his hand or kiss his cheek.

Her obvious refusal to acknowledge their previous relationship made it somehow easier to raise his reason for the meeting. ‘I’ll come straight to the point — Edward wants to issue a writ on your company for a complete audit of your accounts. If it should go through you’ll be hit hard for tax evasion — he knows you’ve been “creaming” — but as long as he gets the lion’s share he’ll be happy. He also wants a progress report on the deal with Japan.’

Ming sat demurely, waiting for Alex to finish, then she smiled. ‘You know, you begin to sound like him.’

A waiter tapped on the door and wheeled a trolley in. Ming fell silent while he set the table. She was very much aware of the change in Alex — he looked far more handsome, with a slight greyness at the temples. He was immaculately dressed and exuded sophistication, a man of the world, with a confidence he had previously lacked. She was impressed.

Alex indicated a seat for her, dismissed the waiter and served the dinner himself. Ming watched his deft, quick movements, the way he tossed the salad. He was so different from Edward, and yet she detected a similar quality she had been unaware of when they had first met. The brothers were growing more alike.

‘I asked Edward if he would allow me to buy him out, I have completed all the contracts in South Africa, plus two more in Mexico, I am sure you know all about them... But I no longer wish to work for you, and again I offer to buy out your percentage in my company. I will double my first offer.’

Alex tried to cover his confusion, but Ming had found that tiny chink in his armour and set to work, laughing softly. ‘Well, it appears Edward is still up to his old tricks... I thought you were partners.’ She began listing building companies, businesses he had no knowledge of.

Alex couldn’t eat, he felt sick. Just as he had begun to trust his brother, just as things were going smoothly, the water rippled and then giant waves swept over him...

‘I want Edward out of my company. I have not, as he suspected, been given the contract for Japan, they do not want a third party involved... Alex, is there any way we can work this together, exclude Edward?’

Jinks was operated on. Edward and Harriet brought her home with her little glasses on, one lens covered with sticking-plaster. She was so good, she hardly cried, but Harriet had made up for that as they waited outside the operating theatre. She had sobbed and sobbed, and although Edward tried hard to comfort her it was obvious that he was as upset as she was. Seeing their little daughter unconscious on the theatre trolley had touched them both.

They bought special gifts for Jinks, including a musical box. She was very careful with all her toys, keeping them neatly laid out in the cupboard, and she took a long time unwrapping each one, holding her head at an awkward angle so she could see clearly.

Jinks’ hair was very thick, and she wore it in pigtails — one always higher than the other as Harriet usually plaited it for her. It gave her a strange, lopsided effect which was not improved by her new glasses. She had a gruff voice which always made them laugh as she sounded like an elderly gin-sodden lady.

Edward was forever watchful over Harriet, worried that the stress of Jinks’ operation might take her near the edge. He persuaded himself that that was why he was feeling so pent up: he felt bound to the house, to his wife. His old wanderlust returned and, bored, he began venting his frustration at work, taking on more and more deals, buying and selling, anything to occupy his mind. So much attention was paid to Harriet’s condition that Edward’s feelings were often swept aside. Only Dewint, whose loving care had been the mainstay of the household for so many years, could feel the undercurrent and waited with trepidation. Dewint knew Edward was drinking heavily, and he suggested that perhaps Harriet and Jinks should go to the country, to Haverley Hall, for a short holiday.

If Harriet was aware of Edward’s drinking she said nothing, she was so wrapped up in her new role of motherhood. She agreed that Jinks would benefit from some fresh air, and proceeded to pack. Edward drove them both to the station, and as he watched the train pulling out of the station, his daughter’s face pressed against the window as she waved goodbye, his depression deepened. He couldn’t really understand himself why his moods changed so radically and why, whenever he felt content, felt that life was good, something inside him, like a sickness, made him try to destroy that happiness. He caused mayhem when he returned to the office that morning; he was already drunk, his behaviour erratic. He screamed instructions to Miss Henderson and made her wish for Alex to return to regain some semblance of order.

Alex did not return for a week as he had been in Mexico trying to decipher the companies that Edward had, without a word to him — his so-called partner — been running for years. Miss Henderson was more than relieved to see him. She was close to tears and she showed him the bedlam created by Edward: his manic instructions, his new shares and business transactions were a confused mess of papers. Alex listened, his fury mounting at the destructive and foolish deals his brother had begun and left half finished.

‘You’d better give me the keys to his office, Miss Henderson. God knows what else he has got us involved in.’

‘I’m sorry, sir, I don’t have a spare set, no one does...’

‘Well, if that’s the case, I’d better go and find him. Is he at home?’

‘I don’t know. I can call the manor, if you wish.’

‘Don’t bother, I’ll go personally. Make a list of all these new transactions and leave them on my desk.’

Dewint opened the front door, and looked aghast as Alex stepped in. ‘I’m afraid, sah, Mr Edward... he has company, sah.’ He told Alex that Harriet and Jinks had gone off to spend a few weeks in Yorkshire. But Alex would not be put off.

‘Tell him I am here, would you, Dewint, and I have no intention of leaving.’

Alex looked into the lounge; the room was a mess. Bottles were strewn everywhere, dirty glasses. From somewhere in the house he could hear music. Then he heard Edward’s voice, shouting, telling Dewint he didn’t want to see anyone. Alex strolled back to the hall door and saw two scruffy tarts being hustled out by Dewint. He sighed, about to turn away, then froze.

Edward appeared, unshaven, his eyes red-rimmed. Alex could smell him a mile off, and he was reeling drunk. He started shouting, incoherently, then slumped on to the sofa. Alex calmed him down and tried to talk to him, begging him to rest. He was sure Edward was an alcoholic, but he just could not fathom out what had caused the change. He seemed hell-bent on destroying everything they had built up.

‘Why, Edward, in God’s name, what is the matter with you? Just as everything is going so well... Are you ill? Is that what all this is about?’

Edward stared at him without replying, then began to pick up empty bottles.

‘You need a doctor? You carry on this way you will destroy everything we’ve built up together.’

‘Together? Don’t be so fucking crass, you an’ me aren’t together, you line your own pockets like every other bastard I come into contact with... fuck off, leave me alone!’

Alex sat down, tried to keep his voice calm. He played for time, his mind reeling, wondering what Edward had discovered. ‘Maybe that’s your fault... you see, every time I think I can trust you, I find out something that makes me more wary of you than ever... what the hell have you got going in South Africa?’

Edward sneered at him, poured himself another drink. ‘Whatever I’ve got going keeps you out of the shit, so why worry... I’ll go to prison, not you, haw haw haw.’

Alex wanted to shake him, hit him, but he gritted his teeth and tried once more to discover what Edward was working on in South Africa. ‘Is it legal, just tell me...?’

Edward laughed, a boozed, humourless laugh. Then he switched on the stereo so loud that it was pointless to continue.

He watched Edward as he moved around the room, trying to dance to the music. It was pitiful. Alex closed the door and switched off the stereo as the music ended, determined to talk things through. Edward smiled at him, fumbled in his pocket. ‘Look, I’ve been making out my will. You get the lion’s share, on condition you take care of Harry and Jinks. Christ, look, I’ll come clean — I am bored, understand? I am so bored, and... and I packed them off to Yorkshire. I’m thinking of upping and leaving, you know... Oh, you won’t understand, I get these feelings inside of me and... I feel trapped here, I’m trapped.’

Alex read the will. Sure enough, Edward had left him everything apart from some legacies to Harriet and Jinks. He looked up as Edward poured himself another drink. ‘Here, take it back. And if you want some advice, grow up. You’ve been a selfish bastard all your life — just for a change, think about Harry, about Jinks, and what they’d do without you.’

‘Think about them? Jesus Christ, I spend my whole life worrying about her and the kid... Well, I can’t take it, it’s like living with a bloody time-bomb — I never know when she’s going to blow. Have you any idea what it’s like...’

‘Getting yourself drunk won’t help matters. Maybe you should take a holiday, you’ve pushed yourself to breaking point. You can’t be an easy man to live with, Edward, and, well, you’ve got your daughter to think of...’

Edward drained his glass. ‘Yeah, little Four-eyes. She’s so damned well behaved, so quiet, she’s like a fucking mouse. Even the nanny creeps about like a fucking nervous cow.’

Edward leaned back on the sofa, turned his bleary eyes to his brother and, out of the blue, asked about Evelyn. Alex shrugged and said he hadn’t seen much of him lately as he had only just returned from New York.

‘He a good little chap, is he?’

Sighing, Alex replied that he was a bit of a handful, and they were unable to keep a nanny for more than a few months. Edward stared sullenly into the fire and hurled his glass, shattering it on the tiles. ‘I’m going out, fancy a night out?’

‘No, I’m on my way home, and if I were you I’d get to bed, sleep it off.’

Edward began to swear to himself, and he didn’t even notice when Alex walked out.

On the back seat of Alex’s car lay the tell-tale newspapers, and he picked one up. It showed a picture of the ‘tycoon’s brother’, drunk and being thrown out of Tramps nightclub. Alex swore and waved his hand for the chauffeur to drive away. ‘Go on, drink yourself to death, you bastard, and the sooner the better.’

Edward continued drinking, and by daybreak his initial mood of despondency had switched to belligerence. He decided to wipe out all the men he knew were waiting with their hands out for the payoffs, for his bribes. He wanted to destroy them, they were making him sick, making him drink, the vultures... Well, he would get rid of them all, start with a clean slate... And last, but not least, on his list was his brother. He had plans for Alex — he would take Evelyn from him. The boy was his, Evelyn was Edward’s son.

He weaved out of the room, clutching the banisters to help him climb the stairs. Dewint, coming out of the kitchen, looked up in horror, Edward’s face was unshaven, his eyes unfocused. There was a helplessness about him that was heartbreaking. Dewint hurried up the stairs...

‘You’d best lie down, sah. Here, let me give you a hand.’

Dewint buckled at the knees as Edward put his arm around his shoulder, and leaned heavily against him. Together they swerved like dancers to the master bedroom.

‘You are a good chap, Dewint, good chap. You think you could get me cleaned up a bit? Old hands shaking and I don’t want to cut my throat, though there are many who would love it if I did.’

Dewint swished the shaving brush round the bowl, and gently soaped Edward’s face. He was propped up in bed, his eyes vacant, staring ahead.

‘What if I were to run you a nice bath, sah?’

‘Thank you. You’re a good chap, Dewint.’

He busied himself running the water in the big porcelain tub, laying out the fresh sheet-sized bath towels. When he returned to the bedside Edward had not moved. He was weeping soundlessly, tears streaming down his face. As Dewint made quietly to leave the room, Edward reached for him.

‘Just sit with me for a while, old fella, I’m in a bit of a mess... need a bit of company, need...’ Edward wept, holding tightly to Dewint’s hand... twice he tried to stop the tears, giving Dewint a sad half smile and a little shrug of his shoulders. But the tears continued. The bath water grew cold as they sat, Dewint not knowing what to do to comfort Edward. Suddenly Edward lifted Dewint’s hand to his lips and kissed it... whispering so softly that it was hardly audible...

‘Thank you. I’m all right now... I’m all right now.’

And it was over. Abruptly Edward reached for the telephone. He dialled a number and waited. He turned to Dewint...

‘Top up the bath and lay some clean clothes out. Then you’d better fix me something to eat — omelette, one of your specials, okay? Hello? It’s me!’

Dewint sprang into action as Edward was stripping off his shirt, talking to Miss Henderson at the office. Gone was any sign of emotional turmoil, instead he was sharp and abrupt.

‘Alex was round asking about South Africa; fend him off, Henny. I don’t want anything to do with my business out there getting into Alex’s hands. Tell him anything, but make sure he sees nothing... that includes telexes, cables and any reference to Skye Duval. I’ll leave it to you then and, Henny, this is important to me, understand? Good girl. I’m fine. Yes, I’m fine.’

After his bath Edward sat eating hungrily as Dewint kept up a steady refill of piping hot coffee. Edward ploughed his way through a stack of old newspapers, flicking over the articles that referred to himself. There was no hint of the man who had sat weeping, but Dewint knew, more than anyone else, that Edward was cursed with a consuming despair. A despair that he seemed to try to reach out to, as if he craved to be punished, for what Dewint couldn’t even contemplate. What impressed him was the way Edward fought back... He loved this man, admired him, and yet was always, would always, be a little frightened of him. Edward caught Dewint watching him as he checked over his appearance in the hall mirror. He gave his extraordinary wolfish and yet boyish smile as he said softly, ‘He’s mine, and I am going to get him. Clear the place up will you? I shouldn’t be too long...’

Edward drove straight to Mayfair. Checking his watch, it was four o’clock. His son would be home from school. He had decided he would walk in and take him. It was as simple as that. Evelyn was his son. He parked opposite the gates of Alex’s house, and was just about to get out of the car when he saw Evelyn pedalling round and round the garden on a small tricycle. He fell off twice, but picked himself up and sped around the garden again. His thick black hair had been cut short, and he wore strange, burgundy-coloured knickerbockers and long, wrinkled socks, part of the uniform of the small, private Hill House School. Edward shook his head and muttered to himself — what a terrible get-up for his son to be wearing. Again he was about to cross to him, when he saw Alex coming out of the house... the little boy turned, leaped from the bike and hurtled towards Alex, flinging himself into his arms. Alex twirled him round, to the boy’s delight...

‘Do it again, Daddy. Do it again.’

Edward watched as Alex threw Evelyn up into the air and caught him, putting him up on to his shoulders. They went back into the house. Edward sat for another ten minutes before he drove to Hill House School and enrolled his daughter for the next term. It made him feel better. The time had not been right, but with the two children at the same school he would be able to keep an eye on Evelyn, get to know him... then he would take what he had always wanted, a son, his son. Edward lit a cigar. He flicked a look into the driving mirror and ran his hand through his black hair, hair identical to his son’s.

Edward breezed into the office, gave Miss Henderson a bunch of roses, kissed her frazzled head and waltzed along to his office. He unlocked the door, whistling as Alex came to his own office door. He was always taken aback at the way his brother could switch from mood to mood, but he had been sure his recovery this time would have taken considerably longer.

‘Well, you recovered fast. Binge over, is it, or was it something I said?’

Edward gave him a strange smile. ‘Maybe something you’ve got is worth sobering up for, brother, be with you in a minute.’

Half an hour later Edward again took Alex by surprise by laying on his desk the contracts for his companies in Mexico, not only details of the projects but also very well kept accounts.

‘I hear you went on a trip to see for yourself? What do you think of the project?’

‘Now that I actually know it exists, it’ll take time to assimilate, just as this load of extra deals you’ve made will take time to assimilate...’

‘But on the surface, brother, things don’t look quite as bad as you thought, and there’s your name, sweetheart, in black and white. You’re not cut out of anything... Right? Am I right? So I’ll leave this with you. I’m going to collect Harry and Jinks, won’t be more than a few days...’

Edward was already on his way out when Alex rose from his chair.

‘Hang on, I’m going to need your signature on some documents.’

‘Can’t they wait? I’ll only be a couple of days. How was Ming?’

Alex caught the nasty sideways look, and pursed his lips. ‘The Japs won’t consider a third party involvement, there’s no deal unless we sell our shares.’

‘Well, that’s that then, no deal... I can wait. They’ll come round eventually, it’s too good a proposition, unless you have other ideas. You got any other ideas, Alex?’

Alex flushed slightly and shook his head. Right now his share of the Mexican companies was too big a prospect for him to jeopardize because of Ming. ‘No, but I would like to know what is going on in South Africa.’

It was Edward’s turn to flush, and he swung the door backwards and forwards. ‘Okay, I’ll come clean, I’m looking at some possible land, mining land, but as yet there’s nothing concrete... haw, haw... that’s a joke. There are possible perlite mining facilities, but I’ll keep you informed if and when it looks like I can pull it off.’

‘Who’ve you got over there? Anyone I know?’

‘No one, it’s just me. Don’t push me, Alex, start adding up the figures of what I’ve just handed to you from Mexico. I’ll never rip you off, you should know that by now. You can trust me, Alex, just like I trust you... Pity we sold out on the club, looks like a gold mine. I would still like to have a hand in it but, well, that was down to you... Right, I’m off. Take care, give my love to Barbara.’

Alex could say nothing. He knew that Edward had discovered he still owned shares in the club.

‘Yes, say hello to Harry and Jinks for me.’

‘Okay, and you say a big hello to your son, to Evelyn.’

Alex looked up, but the door had already closed behind Edward. Almost in an involuntary move he ran his finger round his collar and pulled at the gold chain, as if it was cutting into his neck. He reached for the files on Mexico. His hand rested a moment on the covers, then he rang through to Miss Henderson.

‘Get me anything you can find on perlite mining, would you, in South Africa.’

He flipped off the intercom button. Opening the files he tried to concentrate, but could not get rid of the strange feeling, as if Edward remained in the room. He looked to the closed door.

‘What are you up to now, Eddie? What?’

Harriet had not read any of the newspaper reports about Edward. She was enjoying life at Haverley Hall, relaxing and growing vegetables in the garden. At seven and a half, Jinks was an unusually quiet child, and still wore her glasses. She was getting taller, but was painfully thin and nervous. Mavis was still with them, but Harriet knew it would soon be time for her to leave — Jinks was already at primary school. Harriet had kept Mavis on as she had become a good friend, but she had a boyfriend now and her own life to lead.

Jinks seemed unconsciously aware of how to deal with her mother, often behaving as if she were the child. Harriet continued to have her schemes, her hobbies, but had settled down much more as she approached middle age. She looked a little eccentric, with her hair in a messy bun at the nape of her neck. She wore loose, flowing garments to disguise the fact that she had put on considerable weight, due partly to lack of exercise and partly to her medication.

Harriet was weeding the garden, unaware that Edward had been standing watching her for nearly fifteen minutes. He had always been aware that she looked like his mother, but now the resemblance was uncanny. When she looked up and flashed him that wonderful smile he couldn’t help but feel good. It was always the same — away from her he could forget her, but as soon as he set eyes on her again he felt that rush of emotion. He opened his arms for her as she ran to him, and swung her around. ‘My God, you’ve put on weight, nearly put my back out.’

Calling for Jinks, Harriet led Edward around her vegetable patch, pointing out the lettuces and showing off her tomato plants with pride. Jinks came shyly to the door. She was a timid child, and had always been slightly afraid of her father.

‘Look who’s here! Surprise, surprise, it’s Daddy.’

Edward held out his arms and she went to him, gave him a small peck on the cheek and promptly stood back, looking down at her feet. Edward lifted her chin to look into her eyes, and she blushed.

‘Your mother’s given you a complex, you’ve got wonderful eyes. Come here and let me see — they’re green, well, well, Jinks has got green eyes.’

‘It’s because Ma makes me eat so much of her lettuce.’

Edward laughed at her attempt to make a joke, then they all went inside for tea. Jinks still would not meet her father’s eyes, but hung her head at the table until he grew angry with her. He started to argue with Harriet, and Jinks left the table.

The next morning they drove back to London. Jinks hated the dark rooms of the manor, and always had nightmares. She was also highly nervous about starting her new school, and even when told she would at least know someone, as her cousin would be there, she pursed her lips in identical fashion to Harriet. ‘I’ve never met him.’

‘Oh, you will, darling, you two are going to be friends. You can invite him back for tea and things like that.’

Harriet snorted, ‘Oh God, if he’s anything like his mother she won’t. And speaking of Barbara, this arrived this morning, it must have slipped by her. I’ve been invited to this luncheon... She’s chairman of Save the Animals, Save the Whale, and God knows what else — look, it came yesterday. Shall I go? It’ll be a laugh, don’t you think?’

Examining the embossed invitation, Edward agreed she should go. He thought no more of it until he walked into his office one morning a few weeks later.

Alex buttonholed him. ‘Barbara is absolutely furious with Harry — you know she turned up at a Save the Wild Animals lunch with a fox fur wrapped round her neck?’

Edward gave him no more than a cursory shrug of the shoulders. Nothing ever surprised him where his wife was concerned.

In an abrupt change of subject, Alex commanded all Edward’s attention. ‘I want to ask your advice.’ Alex never asked for advice, he usually offered it. ‘It’s Evelyn, he’s becoming a hell of a handful for Barbara. And, well, I put him down for Eton and Harrow. You don’t know anyone who has any influence with one of them, do you?’

‘You’re asking me? Me? Listen, your dear wife wouldn’t even let him come over to our place for Jinks’ birthday party last year, how come I can suddenly play a part in his education?’

‘Well, I’ve got enough contacts of course, but... Well, he isn’t what I’d call academic. Give him a rugger ball and he’s happy as a lark, but he won’t study, he’s way behind.’

‘So, what can I do?’ Edward couldn’t help smiling. All these years he had wanted some contact with his son, and now it looked as though he was going to get it.

‘Well, I just thought, with all your Cambridge friends, you might be able to pull a few strings.’

‘Can’t Barbara?’

‘She’s trying, but I’d like a second opinion. He’s only nine and she wants him boarding, it would be for the spring term, after Christmas. I doubt if he’s as bright as we were, remember the scholarships we both won? Anyway, if you’d ask around I’d be grateful... she can’t get rid of him soon enough.’

Edward agreed to do what he could, and to Alex’s amazement he seemed quite pleased to be helping out. But when Alex told Barbara she hit the roof, demanding to know, of all people, why did he have to choose Edward?

Of late they had not been getting along at all well. Barbara attended so many functions he saw her rarely, and her lack of participation in Evelyn’s upbringing drove him to distraction. She had no time for the child, and had even missed his sports day at Hill House. Evelyn had won four races and was so popular and outgoing that Alex had been as proud as Punch.

He had sat with Harriet, who moaned to him that Edward was off on one of his trips. She even said, laughingly nudging Alex, ‘And we all know what he’ll get up to. You know, it used to destroy me, but... Well, now I must close my eyes, ignore it. If it makes him happy then so be it, and he has settled down. He’s stopped drinking, did you know?’

Alex knew about Edward’s liaisons, his so-called business trips, and he gave Harriet a small smile. Through all the upheavals in their lives they had remained friends, even if they did see each other rarely.

Harriet watched as Jinks came in second to last in the egg and spoon race, and grimaced. ‘Well, at least she’s brainy although not very well co-ordinated, is she? But then, it’s her eyes, she squints, did you notice it at all, Alex?’

‘Not really. Does she have to wear those terrible glasses? Why don’t you get her a better pair?’

‘Oh, I can’t be bothered, really, and of course she won’t have to wear them all her life, you know. It’s just to straighten out her eye, it’s the left one, goes right into the side — terrible affliction.’

Meanwhile, Evelyn was getting into a fight on the other side of the field. Alex sighed. ‘God, he’s a handful. You know he tied Barbara’s bathroom door closed and she was trapped for hours? It was the servants’ day off, all hell broke loose, as I’m sure you can imagine. Anyway, I gave him a good talking to, but it just drips off him like water.’

‘My father always used his old military belt. He made us run up the stairs like soldiers, with our socks down, and he whopped us with it. We got big red welts on our legs. You know something funny, I’ve never thought of it before — but you don’t think that’s why Allard’s such a big poofter, do you? Have you ever met him? He worked for you on and off, with Dickie Van der Burge in South Africa. You hear anything of Skye Duval at all? I often wonder about him... Ah well, years go by.’

Alex had been listening with only half an ear until South Africa was mentioned.

‘Who is Skye Duval?’

‘He works for Edward. Right, that’s it, tea time.’

Alex remained sitting on the bench, deep in thought, while Harriet marched across the field to collect Jinks. He had come to the conclusion that Skye Duval was some sort of alias Edward used from time to time, but now it was quite clear he actually did exist.

Harriet waved to Evelyn, and he turned and grinned back. She was already busy collecting her daughter’s plimsolls and gymslip.

‘Well, darling, you did very well, at least you weren’t last.’

Jinks was gazing across the field at her handsome cousin. He had hardly ever said two words to her, and unlike her he was extremely popular. She had once tried to make friends, but he had stuck out his tongue then crossed his eyes, mimicking her, so she had never tried again. She trailed after Harriet, who appeared to know everybody, and kept stopping to chat. She was laughing with Jinks’ teacher, as outgoing as ever. She patted her daughter’s odd pigtails.

‘Well, she can’t be top in everything. It’s her glasses, you see, I’m sure without them she would run like the wind, wouldn’t you, darling?’

‘Honestly, Mother, it’s got nothing to do with my glasses, I just can’t run very fast.’

‘Well I know that, darling, but you might at least have won the egg and spoon race. When I was at school we used to stick ours to the spoon, but everyone’s so honest these days.’

Alex tried to discuss Evelyn’s prowess in the sports events with Barbara. Uninterested, she continued writing her diary, reminding him that they were dining out that evening.

‘I said he won...’

‘Yes, I heard you, but perhaps you should encourage him to do his homework. It’s all very well winning prizes for running, but that won’t get him into Eton or Harrow, which is your fault, you should have put his name down. There’s a waiting list, I couldn’t believe my ears... waiting list for a school, sometimes this country is ridiculous, it really is. Now I’d better start dressing, I’ll tell Scargill to run your bath, was there something else?’

Alex shook his head, but she had already walked out without waiting for his reply.

When Alex went upstairs to change, he passed his son’s open door. He was lying across his bed, still wearing his sports kit, and his face was filthy.

‘You eaten? Evelyn? Have you eaten?’

‘No, I’ll get Scargill to fix me something when you two have gone out.’

‘You have any homework?’

‘No, Father — in case you hadn’t noticed, we broke up, it’s the Christmas hols... Ma said she’d give me a tenner.’

Alex put his hand in his pocket and handed over ten pounds. His son grinned and pocketed it fast. Alex gave him another, saying it was to go towards Christmas presents.

‘Can I go out on my bike?’

‘No, Lyn, it’s dark, and you’ve no lights. Ride it in the morning.’

‘Okay.’

When his father had gone, Evelyn got out his A — Z of London, and began to plot his route. He had no intention of staying at home and not riding his bike.

Alex had changed for dinner, and he found Barbara in her room painting her nails.

‘I suppose we should get a tree, for Lyn, but I just hate the needles dropping everywhere... He’s going to spend the actual holiday with the Hope-Swindowns, so perhaps I won’t bother this year. I think it’s rather a good idea as Charlie Hope-Swindown is that bit older and very clever. His mother’s on the board for the Mentally Handicapped, she’s related to...’

Alex interrupted, ‘Christ, it’s Christmas, you know I like him around then. And what’s a few pine needles? You don’t have to clean the place.’

‘Well, I won’t be here! Oh, Alex, we’ve discussed this how many times? You know I have an arrangement, I’ve told you all about it. It’s just a small operation, and well, Christmas seemed an ideal time to have it done. Then I’ll go to a health farm for a few days, are you listening?’

‘Fine, fine, I’ll go to New York.’

Barbara’s eyes narrowed, but she said nothing. She screwed the top of the nail varnish on carefully, gave herself the once-over in the mirror and admired her firm jawline, courtesy of the best plastic surgeons in the country. She was going to have her breasts lifted, and to avoid anyone finding out, she had said she was going abroad for Christmas. She licked her perfectly glossed lips and stood up. She caught Alex looking at her.

‘You look beautiful.’

‘Thank you, darling... It’s so rare nowadays you even notice me.’

Alex sighed as she swanned past him. He followed her downstairs, passing Evelyn’s room. The lights were still on, the comics littered the floor, but there was no sign of him.

Evelyn pedalled over Westminster Bridge in pouring rain, his A — Z stuck in the handlebars of his bike and getting soggier by the minute. He had the twenty pounds he had conned out of his father in his pocket, and he was off on a well-planned adventure. He was going to spend Christmas with his Uncle Edward, the man Mother always referred to as the ‘Big Bad Wolf’.

Standing at the top of the ladder, Dewint was having such a good time, lavishly decorating the tree with coloured balls and glitter. Harriet stood beside the tree, bellowing instructions and waiting to hand him the bedraggled fairy she had brought from her old home. The tree reached almost to the ceiling, and around its base were piles of gifts wrapped in brilliantly coloured paper. Harriet had spent hours making paper chains, linking them all together until the whole house was festooned. The fire blazed in the lounge grate, candles glowed, and twinkling fairy lights had been added for effect.

Edward had been out shopping, with the aid of Dewint, and had hidden himself away to wrap his gifts. They had chosen an enormous doll for Jinks, and gardening equipment for Harriet as she was now eagerly nurturing a vegetable patch behind the manor.

Dewint, rather bent with age now, almost toppled off the ladder when the doorbell rang. Harriet shrieked that she would answer it, it was probably carol singers.

Standing on the doorstep, tears streaming down his cheeks, was Evelyn. A policeman stood beside him, his helmet under his arm, holding Evelyn’s bicycle. The boy was sopping wet, his teeth chattering with cold.

‘Well, well, it’s Evelyn, and with an escort! Do come in... Edward! There’s nothing wrong, is there?’

‘We found him up by Greenwich Docks, riding down a dual carriageway with no lights.’

Edward came down the stairs, overhearing the policeman’s last few words. He opened the door wide, put his hand on Evelyn’s shoulder, and took the wind out of the pompous policeman. ‘How very kind and thoughtful of you to bring him safely home, officer. Now I think we’d better get you a hot toddy... Dewint! A large drink for Constable...? I presume you are off duty?’

Edward gave an unhappy, saddle-sore little boy a secret wink. The policeman was rather chuffed at his reception, and asked for a brandy. Dewint proffered a glass, but Edward insisted they gave the constable the bottle, he felt sure the lads back at the station would also like a share of the Christmas spirit. Laughing now at the boy’s antics, the policeman thanked them heartily and left.

Edward closed the door and smiled at his son. ‘Well, we sorted out Constable Plod, so now, my lad, what’s all this?’

Hot soup and warm towels were brought and Evelyn was led to the fireside. He explained that he had come for Christmas, and Harriet hugged and kissed him. She brought Jinks down to make him welcome. She was overcome with shyness, hanging her head and unable to say a word. Harriet told her to go back to bed, she would freeze without any slippers on. She went off with Dewint to make up a bed for Evelyn.

‘The General runs the house, and we all obey her or she throws terrible moods, isn’t that right, Jinks?’

Jinks tripped as she was leaving the room. She bit her lip and replied, ‘Yes, Daddy,’ but it went unheard. Edward sat on the arm of Evelyn’s chair, fascinated by the boy.

‘First thing tomorrow we’d better get you some lights for your bike.’

‘First thing, Edward, is to get this boy to bed,’ said Harriet as she entered the room with a hot-water bottle. ‘Look at him, he can hardly keep his eyes open. I’ve put him in the room next to Jinks, so if he gets lonely in the night she will be next door.’

Evelyn, exhausted, stumbled as he stood up, but Edward caught him before he fell. ‘I think I’d better carry the chap up, General, don’t want any accidents, not before Christmas Day...’

Harriet stoked the fire while Edward carried Evelyn upstairs and laid him down in the newly made bed. He was already asleep. Edward tucked him in and stroked his thick, black curls, then leaned forward and kissed his forehead.

Evelyn stirred, and he slipped his arms around his father. ‘Thank you for having me to stay, Uncle Edward.’

When the boy had fallen asleep again, Edward left him, making sure the door was half open and the landing light left on in case he should wake in the night. As he passed his daughter’s room, he called out, ‘Goodnight, Jinks.’

Her whispered reply went unheard. In the darkness her glasses glinted as she looked around her orderly bedroom, some of the toys still in their boxes. She snuggled down and removed her glasses, rubbing the bridge of her nose where they left a permanent indentation.

In the next two days Evelyn learnt what was missing in his own home. The laughter, the excitement, all building up towards Christmas Day. Delivery vans brought supplies, including one from Harrods with all the Christmas luxuries, and Edward took him shopping in Petticoat Lane. They were in their element.

Harriet had a sneaking suspicion that they should have called Alex to check everything was all right. But Evelyn insisted his parents knew he was staying with them for the whole Christmas holiday. Having Evelyn around had a good effect not only on Edward, but also on Jinks, which pleased Harriet. The little girl had a habit of covering her mouth, like a hamster, when she laughed, as if afraid to hear herself. But with the rowdy boy banging around the house she found herself becoming almost as loud.

Harriet was a child’s dream of an aunt. She was the first to suggest a game, and not boring cardboard-box games but clever charades, which she usually won. She was as noisy and boisterous as the children, and even Edward joined in. With a sheet over his head, he mimed the exceptionally difficult charade Harriet had dreamed up for him, ‘A Sheik in a Pickle’.

‘Would you be Valentino, sah?’

‘Close, very close.’

‘Oi! No speaking, that’s cheating you lose a point,’ bellowed Harriet, jumping up and down. To Evelyn’s delight, when his aunt and uncle argued it was nothing like the bitter, controlled, back-stabbing ‘disagreements’ that went on in his own house. When Aunt Harriet shouted at Uncle Edward, he yelled back that he wouldn’t lose a point as he didn’t give anything away. Anyway, he was damned sure there was no such film. Harriet insisted, all the time nudging and winking at her partner, Evelyn. And Jinks, usually so timid, especially when she heard her parents arguing, now had tears streaming down her face, fogging up her glasses as she rolled on the floor, laughing.

‘You see, look at your partner, she’s collapsed! Out! Time’s up! We won that round, Evelyn, that gives us a four-point lead.’

Jinks turned on her mother, wagging her finger. ‘Mummy, you are cheating.’

‘That’s right, Jinks, you tell her... Cheat!’

They were all bickering and laughing so much that they didn’t hear the doorbell, or Alex’s strained voice as he asked if they had heard from his son. When he strode in, the room went silent, and everyone turned to look at him as he stood in the doorway, red-faced with fury.

‘I think you’ve both acted very irresponsibly — do you realize I’ve had the police out looking for him? I have been absolutely frantic, couldn’t you at least have had the decency to call me and tell me he was with you?’

‘I came by myself on my bike,’ piped up Evelyn, and got such a glare from Alex he dodged to hide behind Harriet. Edward tried to explain, but Alex asked that the children leave the room.

The two of them listened outside the door, and Evelyn pulled a face. Nothing Harriet or Edward said could calm the irate Alex. He insisted on Evelyn getting his coat and his bloody bike and leaving with him immediately.

Harriet left the two men arguing, giving the children a glum look. She whispered that it looked like Evelyn wouldn’t be staying for Christmas after all, and cheered them up by saying that if they were very quick they could open one of their gifts there and then. She hurried them to the tree and, of course, they went for the biggest boxes and began to rip off the paper. Harriet hurried upstairs and got Evelyn’s coat, and the few things he had brought in his saddlebag. As she came back down the stairs, she saw the children, sitting in a mound of wrapping paper, gleefully opening more presents.

‘Oi, just one more each, then Evelyn can take the rest home with him. I’ll bring a big brown bag.’

Jinks looked at her huge doll, almost life-size, and then put it back in its box. Evelyn couldn’t believe his eyes — a police car with flashing lights and a siren that screamed.

Edward had apologized, but now he was getting angry at Alex’s attitude. He snapped that perhaps Barbara should have made sure she knew where her son was staying for Christmas.

‘He lied to her, he lied to us both. He told us he was staying with a schoolfriend, we had no idea he wasn’t with them until we called... So, there’s blame on both sides. Now if you don’t mind, I’ll take him home.’

When they went out into the hall, there was no sign of the children. Alex called, and Harriet came downstairs with a suitcase for Evelyn’s presents. She suggested they look in the dining room, they often hid in there. Edward approached the closed doors.

‘I’ll get him... Evelyn? Evelyn...?’

Jinks followed her mother downstairs, very subdued. Her doll was already lying in the cot she had been given for her birthday. She looked tearfully at her mother, and Harriet gave a little shrug.

‘He’ll come and see us again... Alex? He can come again, can’t he?’

Alex was standing at the dining-room doors, and Harriet went to his side. From where they stood they could both see clearly into the dimly lit room. Evelyn was sitting at the table with his head in his hands, crying. Edward was leaning over him, stroking his hair. They couldn’t hear what he was saying, but what they saw stopped them both dead. Alex felt as though he had been punched, and his face drained of colour. In the candlelight, Edward and Evelyn were the image of Freedom Stubbs — but they were also the image of each other. Alex and Harriet both knew in a moment that they were looking at father and son.

It was so clear to them now, the eyes, the thick black hair, the dark complexion. Harriet turned abruptly and went up the stairs, saying to Jinks it was bath time but, like Alex, her face was as white as a sheet.

Edward was sitting by the fire, reading. It was after nine, and he wondered where Harriet had got to. The big oak door inched open and Jinks stood there in her nightdress.

‘Daddy’s a bit tired for a story tonight, ask your mother... Where is she, upstairs?’

Jinks was shaking, and her face crumpled as she sobbed out, ‘Mummy... Mummy’s strange, she looks funny...’

Edward picked his daughter up and carried her upstairs, calling for Dewint as he went. He came bustling out of the kitchen, wiping his hands. ‘Dinner will be a fraction late, sah, this newfangled Aga has me all over the place...’

‘Harry? Harry...? Is she in her studio, Jinks? Where’s Mummy?’

Jinks clung tight to her father’s neck, her eyes wide. She seemed terrified, and as they approached her bedroom she screamed and struggled to be put down. Dewint, right behind them, took the child, reassuring her that everything was all right. But it was in the air, it was almost tangible — something was wrong, terribly wrong. Edward reached the doorway and looked in, then whispered, ‘Oh, Jesus Christ... take her downstairs, and get the doctor, fast.’

Harriet was sitting on her daughter’s bed, her blouse open, the beautiful new doll cradled at her breast. She was rigid, her eyes crazy. Edward closed the door, but she appeared not to notice he was in the room, not until he was close. Then she looked at him. Her voice was quite calm — that was what made it so chilling, her calmness, her apparent normality. ‘I can’t wake him, his hands are cold, he won’t take his feed.’

Edward and Dewint both tried unsuccessfully to take the doll away. She became abusive, and screamed at them both.

The ambulance and the doctor arrived within moments of each other. It took two attendants and the doctor to get her out of the room — they cajoled her, and not until she was sedated did she relinquish the doll. She had begun repeating, over and over, ‘He’s your son, he’s your son...’

Edward walked into his bedroom. His daughter lay, swamped in the huge bed, clinging to her teddy bear. Her whole body was trembling, and she turned frightened eyes to him. He undressed slowly. It had been a long and terrible night, and one he knew he could never repeat, never risk being part of again. On the way back from the hospital he had made up his mind — this was the end. He couldn’t take any more, and with Jinks to think about he decided the risk was too great. He would divorce Harriet.

Jinks watched her father walk into the bathroom. Her teeth chattered and she was cold and fearful. He switched the light off as he came out. She was scared of the dark, she always had been, but she was even more frightened to say anything. The big bed dipped as he got in beside her.

‘You awake, little one?’

His big arm swept her to his side, and he held her tight. ‘Oh, you’re cold... Daddy’ll give you a hot potato, turn around, that’s a girl.’

Jinks lay in the curve of his big body as he breathed on her back, warming her. After a while he stopped, and she turned to face him. In the darkness she could see that he was crying.

‘Do you want a tissue, Daddy?’

‘No, no... sometimes it’s best to cry... and you and me have a lot to cry about. Mummy’s gone away, and — well, I doubt if she’ll be coming back. Not because she doesn’t want to, but because Mummy is sick. I’ll try to explain it so that you’ll understand. She doesn’t have an illness, like a cold or a pain in her tummy, it’s in her head...’

Jinks listened in the dark to his soft voice, and began to wriggle away from him, fraction by fraction. He was talking about a stranger, not her mother. His voice, always low, was little more than a whisper.

‘I don’t want to hear any more. Goodnight, Daddy.’

He looked down at her funny, crinkly hair, the red mark on her nose from the glasses, her eyes firmly shut. ‘Goodnight.’

When she opened her eyes, the room was full of strange shadows. She didn’t cry, she just moved further away from her father, wanting the coolness of the sheet against her. His body, his warmth, suffocated her.

Evelyn had fallen asleep in the car, and Alex carried him indoors and put him to bed. He turned in his sleep, and Alex could see his long eyelashes, so thick and dark, as dark as his silky black hair — just like Edward’s.

Barbara didn’t arrive home until after midnight. She was dressed in a long, floating chiffon gown, and she lounged against his study door. ‘Darling, you really should try to come to more of these do’s. Your grandchildren are growing up, they look so sweet in their little suits... Annabelle’s girls are getting to be quite pretty. Selina looked frightful, but then she always does — on the other hand, Annabelle is blossoming. You know she’s opened her own boutique in Beauchamp Place? She loves being Lady Blackwell. Mind you, that’s about all he has to give her, he really is such a weak man. Oh, I need some money for his campaign, you know he is up for the by-election, and... darling? Are you listening to me?’

Alex poured his wife a brandy and held it out, letting her chatter on about her grandchildren, her daughters, until she flopped down in a chair and kicked off her gold sandals. ‘The Duke and Duchess of Kent were there. Oh, and Princess Grace, she’s so beautiful... You know, her son is almost Lyn’s age — we had lots to talk about... I’m exhausted, I’ve danced my feet off, I don’t suppose you’ve heard anything about the Honours List, have you? I mean, I keep plugging away, hinting to everyone I know. Rumour has it, and I’m sure it’s true, that...’

‘I heard a rumour tonight.’

Barbara smiled. ‘Really? Well, tell me, are you on the New Year’s List?’

‘I was at Edward’s, went to bring Evelyn home...’

Barbara sipped her brandy and yawned... then gasped as the glass was knocked out of her hand. Alex leaned over her, his hands resting on each arm of her chair. ‘I want the truth, Barbara, no lies... just the truth... Evelyn is Edward’s, isn’t he...? Isn’t he?’

He was too calm, too cool, and Barbara was scared of him. ‘Don’t be silly, darling, you’re frightening me.’

‘Then tell me the truth... whose child is he? He’s his, you only have to see them side by side to know it... Well? Tell me! He’s Edward’s, isn’t he?’

Barbara was trapped in her chair. He loomed over her, wouldn’t let her squirm her way out of it. She began to cry, and he finally moved away. She didn’t have to say it.

‘Jesus God, it’s true... it’s true.’

Barbara couldn’t stop crying, although she still did not admit it, but the more she cried the more he knew it was true. He stood with his back to her. ‘Why? Just tell me why?’

Barbara’s mind was racing, trying desperately to think of something, anything, to say to him. She rose from her chair and went to touch him, but he moved away so fast that she froze.

‘Why, tell me why? Jesus, you could have had it aborted, anything... Why?’ At last he turned to her, and she started to cry again. This time he hit her so hard across the face that she fell against the desk. Alex picked her up by her hair and threw her back into the chair. ‘How long have you two been together? Is it still going on?’

Barbara touched her lip, tasted blood in her mouth. ‘No... it was over before he was born. I... I went to him, went to him for you, I didn’t want anything to go wrong, you tried, you tried to make him sell the club, get rid of it... well, I tried.’

Alex looked at her with loathing. ‘So you went to bed with him? Who the hell do you think you’re kidding? You say you went to bed with my brother because of me? You did it for me? You’ve never done anything that wasn’t for yourself.’

Barbara faced him, her fists clenched. ‘I am telling you the truth, may God help me... I did it for you. I didn’t love him, I didn’t even want him! All I wanted was for you to be rid of that bloody club. You tried, don’t you remember how you tried...? Alex? Alex...?’

He stared at her coldly, and she cried again. He walked to the door. ‘You sicken me, you’ve made loveless marriages for both your daughters — you’ve done that for me, too, I suppose?’

Barbara snapped back at him through her tears, ‘Yes... yes... and you benefit, so don’t kid yourself you don’t. Just as you use my money as though it were your own, maybe you don’t do anything except for yourself, either, Alex...’

He shuddered, repelled. ‘He’s not to know, understand me? He’s never to know, and he’s not to be allowed near Edward again... I’ll move into the spare room.’ He shut the door quietly behind him.

Barbara ran after him, yanked it open. ‘Is that it? Is that all you have to say? You’re moving into the spare room? You might as well have been there for years, you think this is a marriage? I never see you, and when I do you’re just going out to some business meeting. I see more of the goddamn butler than I do of you!’

‘Fine, maybe you should have an affair with him.’

Barbara went for him, tried to hit him, but he caught her wrist and pushed her away. This time she fell against the stairs.

‘Stay away from me, you disgust me.’

‘I disgust you? I disgust you? Well, fuck you...’

‘That’s it, Barbara, come on, let’s hear what you really are, let’s hear it. Bet all those society friends of yours would love to see you now, crawling up the stairs.’

Hauling herself to her feet, Barbara was in such a rage that she screamed. Alex laughed at her, turned away and walked up the stairs, with Barbara screaming after him.

‘You’ll never get me crawling to you, the only person you can crawl to is Edward... When he says jump, you jump... when he’s drunk you run round there and clean him up like he was your big baby... You are married to him, only you don’t even know it...’

Alex froze, unable to move. He was fighting for control, because he wanted to kill her. All he had to do was turn round and hit her and she would fall backwards down the stairs...

She kept coming close, shouting at him. ‘It’s always been Edward, hasn’t it, you keep on about how much you hate him, you don’t hate him, you love him... he means more to you than I ever did, than ever your son did... Yes, he’s his!’

Alex turned; the sight of his face, like a mask, made her shut her mouth. She pressed herself against the wall, terrified. ‘Don’t touch me, Alex, or I’ll scream, Scargill will see you... Don’t touch me.’

Alex smiled and looked down at her. His quiet voice was icy. ‘Don’t worry, Barbara, I’ll never touch you again.’

He left her sobbing on the stairs. He packed a case, then went into Evelyn’s room and packed his. Then he gently shook him awake. ‘Come on, Daddy’s got a surprise, we’re going to New York for Christmas... come on, darling, wakey, wakey.’

Barbara was still crying when she saw Alex carry his son, Edward’s child, out to the Rolls-Royce and drive away.

As the plane took off, Evelyn slipped his hand into Alex’s. He was always a little afraid of flying. Alex gave him a fatherly pat, then helped him unbuckle his safety belt as the indicators went off. The air hostess placed a glass of champagne on Alex’s table.

‘Oh, can I have one too, please?’

The air hostess looked at Alex and he gave a small nod, so Evelyn sipped his glass of champagne. ‘Why don’t you like Uncle Edward, Daddy, did he do something wrong?’

Slipping his arm around Evelyn, Alex told him he asked too many questions, then kissed the top of his head.

‘I wish I had a brother, he is your brother, isn’t he?’

Alex leaned back and closed his eyes. ‘Yes, he is my brother, we just don’t get along, that’s all. Now, I don’t want to hear any more, just let me rest.’

Kicking his feet against the seat, Evelyn sipped his champagne in silence. He turned to look at his father, whose head was resting on the pillow, his eyes still closed. He studied Alex’s profile sternly, and then decided that Uncle Edward was better-looking, and he was also... He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but there was something different about the Big Bad Wolf.

Alex was not asleep, he was irritated by the knocking of Evelyn’s heels against the bottom of the seat. The dark head was resting against his arm, and he could smell the boy’s hair. ‘I used to love him so, Evelyn, we used to be like one person.’

Evelyn didn’t hear, he was fast asleep. Alex eased the empty glass from his hand and covered him with a red airline blanket.

Edward could not bear to see Harriet, but the doctors confirmed his suspicions that this time her recovery would be very slow, if at all. Arrangements were made for her to be moved to a mental institution and, as always, Edward provided the best medical care money could buy. Jinks was placed in a boarding school. The clothes of the bewildered child were packed by a heartbroken Dewint. Edward spent days shut in his office. Eventually he handed Miss Henderson a thick dossier of instructions, plus a chequebook with his signature already written for Alex’s use. Miss Henderson had never seen Edward so subdued, as if mourning a loved one. In a way he was; the Harriet he knew had gone for ever, and he had no one to blame but himself. In one night he had lost his family; he had also lost his hope of forming a relationship with his son. He knew that by now Alex would be suspicious, not like Harriet, but intuitively aware that the boy was his. It was Evelyn that Edward wanted more than anything else in his life. His sense of loss was all-consuming, as if a shadow lay across his heart, weighing him down. Just as he knew Alex would be more than able to cope without him, and more than likely pleased to be rid of him, he knew his brother would never give him his son. He owed Alex for his years spent in jail. At times he even thought the debt was repaid. Edward’s mind reeled. Not concerned with the fact that he had destroyed his own and Alex’s family, he attempted to push the shadow from him, to search for something that would make Alex give up his son. What if he made Alex an offer of such magnitude he could not turn it down?

Miss Henderson heard Edward locking his office. As he passed her desk he dropped a sealed envelope into her lap. ‘Make sure my brother gets that, would you, Henny?’

‘Will you be away long, Mr Barkley?’

‘I don’t know. I don’t know where I’m going and I don’t know when I’ll be back. I’m trying for the deal of a lifetime, Henny. Take care of yourself.’

She watched him walk out to the corridor, press for the lift. As it arrived he turned back to her and gave her a strange dejected look, and was gone.

Ming was waiting at Kennedy Airport, waving to them both as they came through the barrier. Alex kissed the Japanese woman on both cheeks, and Evelyn shook the delicate hand.

‘Well, Alex, you never mentioned what a handsome boy your son is.’

Evelyn might not have been very old, but he didn’t miss a trick. His father had never mentioned this pretty lady, and he seemed very friendly with her.

‘Do you have a big Christmas tree?’

Evelyn got no reply to his question. Alex and Ming were already discussing business, and he was ignored.

Throughout the journey across New York, Evelyn stared open-mouthed from the limo. He had never seen such tall buildings, and he asked many questions, repeating the phrase ‘skyscrapers’ with a chuckle. All the cars drove on the wrong side of the road, and the taxis were bright yellow... Eventually Alex patted his head and told him not to keep chattering, as he was very tired. So Evelyn kept his nose pressed to the window, and didn’t say anything when thick snow began to fall. He wondered what Uncle Edward would be doing, New York was much colder, and he hoped the lady would have big log fires like they had at the manor house.

Evelyn thought Ming’s apartment was very nice, if a bit too tidy. Everything looked sparse, and there was a place for every precious ornament. The Christmas tree was just some weird-looking, white-painted twigs with a few gold balls.

The tiny boxroom to which Evelyn was shown contained only a white-painted bed, a single white chair and a polished, lacquered chest with a single white cushion on it. The floor was of polished pine. He was afraid to sit down or move in case he left fingermarks.

Ming had not asked why Alex called her in the middle of the night, why he had wanted to spend Christmas with her, why he had trailed his small son along. She was too clever, waiting until they sat alone by the gas ‘log’ fire. Alex took his time, eventually slipping his arm around her. ‘I need you, I need you, thank you for letting us stay.’

Ming smiled and closed her eyes. Once, she had wanted to hear him say that, once, but it was a long time ago. She wondered what had sparked off this unscheduled visit, knew there was something else.

‘I don’t want to talk business tonight, but in the morning, we have a lot to discuss...’

Ming smiled again, but said nothing, she simply held out her hand and guided Alex into her white bedroom.

Evelyn woke in the night, and the white shapes in the room scared him, so he slipped along the corridor, barefooted, to his father’s room. Alex lay beside Ming, both fast asleep, and Evelyn stared, dumbfounded.

Christmas came and went, and Evelyn spent the majority of his time either alone in his room or being driven around New York by a Japanese chauffeur who could hardly speak a word of English. He visited the zoo, the cartoon cinemas, and behaved impeccably. Ming was civil, always smiling, but there was no warmth, no affection. She gave Evelyn a strange game with silver balls rolling around as a Christmas gift.

The bell chimed for dinner, and Evelyn washed his face and scrubbed his hands, then hurried towards the dining room. He could hear Ming’s voice.

‘I am thinking of going public, selling off the shares in the boutiques and shops. This will give me the cash flow to move into opening a construction company. It makes sense, as I do most of the designs for the major companies, so why not offer construction facilities as well?’

Evelyn reached the half-open door.

‘My company could help you there, we have facilities both here and in...’

Ming interrupted. Evelyn heard the chill in her high-pitched, snapping voice, and paused in the doorway.

‘You don’t have to tell me what you have, and isn’t it really more what Edward has? From what you have told me there is very little “we” in your company, you can’t even sign a cheque without Edward.’

Ming sounded the chimes again for Evelyn to come, and at the same time she pulled out a chair to sit down at the table. Evelyn entered and sat down, apologizing for being two minutes late. Ming flicked him a cold look of irritation.

The food, which Evelyn found dreadful, consisted of raw vegetables and rubber-tasting fish, and made him feel sick. Throughout the meal, Alex and Ming discussed business, but they were both cool and controlled, choosing their words carefully. Ming’s tiny hands folded her starched, white napkin into the shape of a flower.

‘Daddy... Daddy, can we go to see a movie?’

‘Not now, Evelyn, I’m busy. Ask the chauffeur... go along, I’ll see you later.’

Evelyn wandered back to his room and sat on the white bed. He felt lonely, and even as young as he was he could detect a change in his father’s attitude. He curled up and wept, trying to think what he had done to turn his father against him.

Ming leaned back against her white sofa, her delicate fingers cupping her brandy glass. Alex stood by the window, looking down on the busy avenue below.

‘Did Barbara admit it? She actually admitted it?’

‘It’s hard not to, you only have to look at him to see the resemblance. I have been such a fool, such a bloody fool...’

Ming said nothing, carefully placing her glass down on the polished coffee table. This was not the time to discuss her own business, to repeat her persistent request for the brothers to sell their shares in her company. Instead she commiserated, her voice soft and soothing. Alex joined her on the sofa and gripped her hand tightly...

‘He beats me at every turn. You were right, some partner he is! I had no idea what was going on in Mexico, but I accepted it without a murmur when he dropped the contracts on to my desk, accepted it because he’d included me. I’m a dumb piece of meat that he has squeezed every drop of blood from...’

‘I’m glad you came to me, because I have always been there for you. You know that, don’t you, Alex?’

He smiled, his grip relaxing, and she slipped her arm through his. ‘So what are you going to do? Divorce?’

He sighed and closed his eyes. ‘Barbara has millions tied up in the company. It won’t be that easy. It’s Edward I have to deal with first. Barbara is simple in comparison. You know, I think, truthfully, that Edward is insane. I’m not just saying it, but if you could have seen him when I went back the last time he was drunk and incoherent...’

Ming massaged Alex’s shoulders, her eyes more cat-like than ever.

‘Had anyone else ever mentioned that he could be unstable?’

‘You just have to read the papers — drunk, thrown out of night clubs, his driving licence has been taken away so many times, he’s crashed his car. Wish to God he’d smash himself up in it, then we would be rid of him.’

‘Well, that could be arranged, but surely it would be simpler to prove to the board members that he is incapable of running the Barkley Company, even if he is who he is, and then you could take the reins legally...’

Alex turned to her and smiled, cupping her face in his hands. ‘I knew I was right to come here.’

‘You must tread carefully, Alex. Don’t let him get round you the way he always does, not this time... You can get control of the company, I know it.’

He threw back his head and laughed. ‘Yes, I know it too, and the first thing you’ll want me to do is sell back your shares. Am I right, you little minx? Well, sweetheart, I promise you that will be the first thing I’ll do.’

‘And the second, Alex, is divorce Barbara. Promise me that, too, Alex.’

He looked at her and knew his brother had been right. She was as dangerous as Edward had always said, but he had not bargained for her genuinely loving him. Alex kissed her, swept her up in his arms and carried her to her bedroom. ‘First, my darling, I am going to take you to bed.’

Evelyn peeked from his bedroom to see his father with Ming in his arms. He quietly closed the door, afraid to be caught, confused and lonely. He wished he was still at the manor house, wished he was still with his uncle. He took out the gift he had taken from beneath the big Christmas tree, the shiny police car with the bells and the lights, his face twisted as he tried not to cry.

Later that night Alex lay wide awake, unable to sleep, thinking how he should go about taking over the company. Beside him Ming slept, as composed in sleep as she was awake. He studied her face, wondered what their life together would have been like if Edward had never interfered; but then they would never have met if it had not been for Edward. The realization of the immense power his brother had always had over him made Alex even more determined to beat him. He began to twist his gold chain round his fingers, unaware that Edward had in a way already beaten him. There would be no satisfaction in removing Edward because he had quite simply removed himself.

Chapter twenty-four

The following day Alex and Evelyn returned to England. Dewint rushed to change out of the taffeta frock he had bought from the Blue Cross charity shop. He scurried downstairs as the doorbell rang again, wiping the cream from his face, still trying to get his make-up off. ‘I’m afraid Mr Barkley is not at home, sah.’

Alex pushed past him and ran up to Edward’s bedroom, began to search through his desk, through his drawers.

Dewint hovered at the door. ‘I really don’t think you should, sah.’

Alex straightened up. He was sweating, red in the face. ‘Where does he go? Do you know? All these months away from London, where does he go?’

Flustered by Alex’s anger, Dewint stuttered, ‘W-Well, sah, I–I really don’t know, he has f-friends in California, and, er, he goes to Africa, but I really d-don’t know where he is at this p-precise moment in time, sah.’

Looking around, Evelyn saw the drooping, bald Christmas tree, the dead fire in the grate. The place seemed cold and lifeless. Dirty dishes were left on a tray, and the warmth, the Christmas atmosphere, were gone. He shivered — the house frightened him. ‘Daddy, who are all these people in the paintings?’

Alex pushed past him into the lounge, and snapped to Dewint that he should clean the place up.

‘When will my brother be back, do you know?’

‘I’m s-sorry, sah, but he never tells me when he is departing or returning, I just... I suppose you heard about Mrs Barkley? She was taken very bad again just before Christmas, and Jinks has been sent to boarding school. I’m here alone, you see...’

Evelyn was more confused than ever. The manor house was different — cold and ugly. It was as if he had only imagined the warmth and happiness of the Christmas festivities. He was looking forward to seeing his mother.

Barbara was resting. The stitches were still there but the swelling and initial tenderness of her breasts had subsided. She would soon be back in circulation, and she was already planning functions and parties.

Evelyn rushed to his mother to give her a hug, and she screamed, pushing him away. ‘Don’t touch me! My God you’re so rough.’

Evelyn walked out, pausing in the doorway to give his mother a cold look. Then he slammed the door behind him.

Alex, unaware of Barbara’s many cosmetic operations, or the present condition of her breasts, saw only his son’s hurt face. ‘He only wanted to kiss you, for Chrissake.’

Barbara got up, flustered. She hadn’t expected them to return from New York for at least another week. ‘Did you have a pleasant Christmas? How is Ming, well?’

Alex smiled. Barbara could never resist getting her small digs in. He ignored the question. ‘I don’t suppose you’ve heard from Edward at all, have you?’

Barbara inspected her face in the mirror, gave him a veiled look. ‘I’m not likely to, am I?’

Alex looked at her reflection and was struck by her flawless skin, her still-beautiful face. She caught him staring at her, and made a move towards him. ‘Alex... Alex, I’ve missed you, can’t we at least talk?’

Just like his son he walked away from her, annoyed that he had even given her the opportunity to see the effect she still had on him. Unlike Evelyn he did not slam the door but closed it quietly and firmly behind him.

Alex was handed all the documents Edward had left for him. He asked Miss Henderson what had happened, if she knew where his brother could be contacted. All she could tell him was what had taken place the last time she had seen him, and then she handed him the sealed envelope.

‘Mrs Barkley is very sick, did you know?’

Alex was confused, for a moment thinking she was referring to Barbara, but then realized she was talking about Harriet.

‘She’s in a mental institution. She had a nervous breakdown just before Christmas. I have the address, and also Juliana is now in a boarding school.’

‘And you don’t know where Edward is? Didn’t he leave a contact number?’

‘No, Mr Barkley. The last thing he said to me was to make sure you received that envelope.’

Alex closed his office door, put down the thick file of all the listed documents left by Edward, saw the stack of signed cheques, and then opened the envelope. There was no letter, just a copy of Edward Barkley’s will, naming as sole heir his brother Alex Barkley. He read the small print carefully, but there seemed to be no hitch, no catch... Edward had disappeared simply handing Alex the reins. He wouldn’t know for how long, but he was going to make damned sure he would grab hold of them, maybe hold so tight that Edward would have a tough time getting them away from him when and if he returned.

Chapter twenty-five

Evelyn was sent to Harrow as a boarder. In this, his fourth year, along with two other pupils, he went down to Oxford Street and stole two records from a store. The three boys then got very drunk on the journey back to school. Two of the boys returned to their dormitory, but Evelyn passed out on the tennis courts. The housemaster discovered him the next morning as he went to play his regular eight o’clock game.

The boys had stolen the records while wearing their uniforms, and the school had already been informed about the theft. Evelyn was discovered holding the two albums in his arms — one by Jimi Hendrix, and the Beatles’ Sergeant Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band. He was expelled.

Barbara was having her hair blow-dried when he sauntered into her bedroom. ‘Good God, what are you doing at home?’

‘I thought you knew,’ he replied, cockily, ‘I’ve been given the old heave-ho... Where’s Dad?’

‘At the office of course, what have you done? Lyn? Evelyn! Will you come back here, I’m talking to you!’

Evelyn reappeared and leaned against the door, picking his nose. ‘What do you want?’

‘I want to know what you did this time? Have you any idea how difficult it was for your father to get a place for you at Harrow? It was bad enough in your junior school.’

‘No, I don’t know how difficult it was, but I’m sure you will tell me, Mother.’

‘I’m going to call him, right now. You are the most infuriating person I have ever met — and for God’s sake use a hankerchief.’

Evelyn walked out. He was fifteen years old and arrogantly self-assured. His voice had a resonant, plummy tone learned at Harrow. He had gained little, as far as Barbara and Alex could see, from his vastly expensive education apart from his nonchalant way of speaking. Academically he was either close to or bottom of the class. Only in sports did he excel. However, even his sports reports had begun to include the word ‘lazy’, and ‘unsporting conduct’ had been mentioned in two memos from his housemaster. Alex had hoped he could get to Cambridge on his prowess in the game of rugby, but of late even that had fallen below par.

He had grown very tall for his age. Although facially more like Edward than Barbara or Alex ever cared to mention, he had inherited his mother’s slenderness and would never be as tall or as big-boned as his father.

Alex was not at his office — he was at Harrow, desperately trying to salvage his son’s education, hoping to get the expulsion reduced to suspension. Evelyn had made no attempt to cover for his two friends, and they had been expelled along with him. Alex did not expect such sweeping and immediate action for what he deemed a small misdemeanour. All boys got a little drunk, didn’t they?

Evelyn’s housemaster was well aware of the donations Mr Barkley had made to the school, and it was his unfortunate task to tell him about his son. ‘I’m afraid it is a little more than simply getting drunk. Of course boys will be boys, but, Mr Barkley, I think perhaps for Evelyn’s benefit you should know the whole truth — and the truth is never pleasant.’

Alex accepted a cup of milky tea and waited.

‘We have, as you know, had a little trouble with Evelyn virtually from the word “go”. He does not conform, perhaps “will not” would be a better choice of words. To be frank, your son flatly refused to become an integral part of the school. Perhaps we could cope with that in time, many of our pupils come round to our ways of their own accord in the end. However, as I have said, Evelyn has been difficult. You must be aware of his indiscretions, the problems we have had with him. I am afraid, Mr Barkley, your son is a known cheat, verging on the pathological. He seems incapable of telling the truth. Again, we have to deal with all sorts of boys with problems caused by being removed from their own environment — but your son, Mr Barkley, is also a thief...’

Alex listened to the list of Evelyn’s offences, and the canings that had had no effect. He also heard about numerous letters sent to him by the school that had gone unanswered. The housemaster ate biscuits throughout the entire meeting, finally wiping his mouth with a greyish handkerchief. Alex suggested rather haughtily that perhaps he should not be talking to Evelyn’s housemaster but should take the matter to the head himself.

‘I am sorry, and I’m speaking on behalf of the Board of Governors when I say this, it is totally unacceptable for Evelyn to return even to finish this term...’

Alex found his wayward son at the office, pestering Miss Henderson. With a cold stare, he pointed in the direction of his own room. Evelyn wandered in and sat on Alex’s swivel chair.

‘Get out, that’s my chair... Get out, you stupid bastard.’

Evelyn sprang up fast. Alex slammed the door and threw his briefcase down, his face red with rage. He spat out his words, his eyes like knives. ‘You’re a thief, a liar, a cheat... and that’s just for starters. You get drunk, vomit all over the tennis courts and are foolish enough to pass out there so the housemaster can’t help but find you... If I were you, I’d wipe that fucking smile off your stupid, smug face. I paid good money, big money, to swing a place for you at Harrow... You had the opportunity of a lifetime, not just the education but for contacts later in life, when you left... and what did you do? You chucked it away for a lousy Rolling Stones’ record. Well? You got anything to say? You got something to say about it?’

‘Well it was actually a Jimi Hendrix album, his first...’

Alex backhanded him so hard he fell against the desk. Evelyn picked himself up, rubbing his cheek, which was already swelling. He smiled... ‘Did you know when you sent me there, Pater, that if a woman is caught in a chap’s room one is expelled immediately, but if it’s another bloke you just get suspended for two weeks?’

Evelyn took Alex’s breath away. Nothing anyone ever said or did to him had the slightest effect. He found himself almost smiling at Evelyn’s audacity, his barbed humour. He slumped into his chair, shaking his head. When he looked up Evelyn was smiling, a smile that mirrored Edward’s. Alex stared hard at his son until the smile was wiped away. The eyes that met his were identical to Edward’s, dark and unfathomable. It was Alex who looked away.

He tried to ease up. ‘I’m sorry... okay, I shouldn’t have hit you, but things are getting on top of me here. I have no idea where your uncle is, and I have more than enough to cope with. I don’t need you causing problems, and you are one, you know that?’

‘Yes sir, I’m aware of being a bit of a pest. I can get a job if you like, sweeping the office.’

‘Add to it cocky, lazy but above all dumb... You are dumb, and I don’t mean academically... You’ve just blown your chances of getting a place in any other school... Wherever you go, you’ll be branded a thief, liar, cheat — like it? There is a possibility that I can get you a place in France, it would get you out of my hair... Will you look at me when I’m talking to you! Would you try it? Any other school will turn you down after one look at your history. Sometimes money can’t buy you what you want...’

‘Does Mother know that? Seems to me she does very well for a woman who thought Gertrude Stein was a singing nun.’

‘Okay, go on, keep it up, you think it’s witty?’

‘I’d like to go to France, and I’m ready whenever you say.’

Alex’s intercom buzzed and Miss Henderson said that he was already late for his meeting. Evelyn was half out of the door, but stopped as Alex called to him, ‘Hang on... don’t go, I’m not completely through. Thank you Miss Henderson, I’ll be right there.’

Alex walked across to Evelyn and put an arm around his shoulder. ‘You know, all this bravado is one thing, but I want your word on something and I want you to promise me you’ll keep it.’

‘Sure, whatever you say.’

‘I’m serious... They mentioned you’d been smoking this marijuana stuff, well I want you to give me your word you won’t mess around with it. Do I make myself clear? You will be in a foreign country, they have their own laws... You get copped with drugs on you and you’re on your own... Do I have your word on it?’

Alex gave his son’s shoulder a squeeze, murmured that he would try to make it home before nine, then walked down the corridor into the boardroom.

Evelyn stood for a while, his shoes half buried in the thick carpet. Along the corridor he could see his uncle’s office door, closed firmly. As Miss Henderson came back to her desk he asked if anyone had any news of his Uncle Edward.

‘No Evelyn, we’ve not heard for quite a while. I’m told that Jinks is doing very well, did you know? Heading for Cambridge like her father. Are you all right, dear?’

Miss Henderson watched him as he gave a slight smile, the way he inclined his head reminded her of Edward.

‘Er... Is there a gents’ I can use on this floor?’

‘Oh well, there’s your father’s private one, or there’s another cloakroom just at the end, first left.’

‘Thank you. If you see my uncle, say I asked after him, would you? Nice to see you again.’ He smiled, then turned and shambled off.

Miss Henderson set about clearing her desk. She had heard most of what went on in Alex’s office, and she wondered what trouble Evelyn had got himself into this week. He was nothing but trouble that one, it was written all over him. She sealed the envelopes for all the cheques Edward had instructed her to send. One to the nursing home where Harriet was, then their daughter’s school fees — she even sent off the birthday cards now. She began to think she knew Jinks Barkley better than her own father did. Her school reports came directly to the office, and it was Miss Henderson who read them with pleasure, and sent Jinks her regular allowance. The girl always wrote neat ‘thank you’ letters back. She was going to be no problem, it was obvious Jinks had a very bright future.

Evelyn locked the toilet door, put the seat down and sat on it. He then opened a small silver box, took out a packet of skins and rolled a joint. He sat smoking it, sitting in the Barkley Empire’s john... It amused him, only he didn’t laugh. He felt ashamed. Not for smoking the joint, but for the shame he had seen in his father’s face... ‘Liar, cheat, thief...’

Evelyn drew heavily on the joint and let the smoke drift out slowly. He felt his bruised cheek where his father had slapped him... He stood up, tossed the end of the roach into the bowl and pulled the chain. Maybe he would like France...

Alex had seen Ming only a few times since their last meeting that Christmas. Now that he had access to the accounts, in particular those in Mexico, Alex had discovered just why Edward had been against selling back her shares to Ming. The company had channelled thousands of dollars through her outlets and it had proved a good method of laundering money. Ming had taken a percentage of the vast sums. As Edward had done, Alex picked up on the discrepancies in her accounts. Ming might love him, but she had certainly made sure she had lined her own pockets. Alex felt betrayed but realized once more how Edward had covered for him, and just how shrewd he was at business. He had begun to think of Edward more of late, wondering where he was... and what he was doing. His silence, at first welcome, had become rather ominous.

Alex had been so immersed in the old accounts he had forgotten the time. He knew they were entertaining, yet again, and hurried to the bedroom door, mumbling that he had been held up and was he supposed to dress. ‘Barbara, is it black tie tonight or not?’

Barbara raised her eyebrows to her hairdresser and sighed. ‘Daaarling, I phoned the office... It’s very casual, but smart casual. It’s Walter, his wife and Lord Harmsworth, then the...’

Alex had already departed to his own rooms.

‘I’ve changed my mind, part it down the middle, Timmy.’

Alex made polite conversation throughout the meal. He was tired, and he stifled yawn after yawn. Barbara’s charity affairs were always like this, the people all looked the same, they just switched clothes. As they withdrew into the lounge for coffee, Walter, who had been to the far end of the table, asked for a private word with Alex. The two men waited while Scargill poured them brandy, and Alex clipped his cigar.

‘I need to talk to Edward, I’ve called numerous times and I am told he’s abroad or not available.’

Alex lit the cigar and puffed slowly, trying to size Walter up. They had met on a number of occasions similar to this evening, but they had never had an in-depth conversation.

‘It’s rather a delicate situation, but it is imperative I speak to him within the week. Do you know where he is?’

Alex could see the man was sweating. His pockmarked face glistened, and his eyes behind the thick glasses were shifty, drifting away from Alex’s gaze.

‘Anything I can do to help? You see, I actually don’t have the slightest idea where he is — and believe me, I need to contact him too.’

Walter stubbed out his cigarette, immediately lit another, and pulled his chair closer. ‘Have you discussed my business with him at all?’

Alex had no knowledge of any business transactions between Walter and Edward, but Walter made the mistake of taking Alex’s silence for confirmation that he did know. ‘I’ve tried to contact Duval in Africa for three months, the PM’s somehow got wind of the hospital complex, I cannot afford at this stage... You know I regained my seat this election?’

Alex was trying to fathom what the hell Walter was talking about, but he couldn’t make head nor tail of it. All he could say for sure was that the man was exceptionally nervous.

‘Yes, yes, but that was a foregone conclusion.’

Walter paced the room, hands stuffed in his pockets. ‘Part of my campaign was that I would begin building a whole new leisure centre. Costs have jumped — escalated — to a ridiculous level, and I need Edward. He agreed to finance the project, but I have not seen a penny as yet. Now it’s up before a committee for review and if it seems like I’m going to break my word, it won’t look good... You have the hospital, everything’s gone through, but he’s let me down. I need to speak with him, and within the week.’ He lit yet another cigarette and began a hacking, chesty cough.

‘How much? I’ll see if I can release funds to you immediately.’

Walter eased up, sat down and sighed with relief. ‘Jesus, if you could it would save my skin, the election was by no means the foregone conclusion everyone thought... Well, Edward must have told you... Thirty-five thousand, as agreed.’

Alex nearly choked on his cigar, but covered by saying they should both give up smoking for their health.

Walter stubbed out his half-smoked cigarette and gave Alex a strange, sly look. ‘With you two bastards I’m amazed I’ve kept my sanity this long... I’ll call the office first thing in the morning, all right?’ He straightened his tie, wiped his sweating face and gave a small bow. ‘Perhaps we should join the party?’

First thing in the morning, Alex called Miss Henderson and asked her if he had all the documents on the building works. She replied that he had all she had ever been given to file. Alex sent a memo down to personnel to check out Skye Duval.

Evelyn was being driven to Heathrow, by Scargill. No one had even said goodbye to him, but he was used to that. He had his precious record collection and his guitar, he cared about little else. He wondered what France would hold for him. The place sounded gruesome, if not monastic. The school was run by friars, and it was apparent even to Evelyn that his father had really scraped the bottom of the barrel.

Scargill did not take Evelyn’s cases into the terminal. He pulled up outside and waited until he saw Evelyn give the thumbs up sign at his ticket collection desk then he returned to London. The school was St Martin at Pontoise, about thirty-two kilometres north-west of Paris. Evelyn had drunk his fill of free champagne in first-class during the flight. Now the taxi made his head ache, and he felt sick. As they turned a corner, he saw stretching before him what looked like a fortress. He leaned forward. ‘Holy shit, this can’t be it, it’s like a fucking prison.’

Chapter twenty-six

Alex had called a security company hire-car as Barbara was using the Rolls-Royce. The navy blue Mercedes was waiting for him outside the Barkley Company. The uniformed security guards locked up after him. The Mercedes’ door was held open by the chauffeur, who greeted him with, ‘Good evening, Mr Barkley.’ He replaced his peaked cap and hurried round to the driving seat. Alex gave the man a cursory glance, snapped open his briefcase, and began to look over contracts, unaware of the driver’s scrutiny as he began making notes with a gold pen in the margin. On every housing development contract he had come across, the same government stamp had been signed by Walter...

Looking in the driver’s mirror George Windsor was sure now, one hundred per cent sure, that the man in the back of his hire-car was without question Alex Stubbs. They drew up outside Alex’s house.

‘How much?’

George turned. ‘Have this one on me, Alex, for old times’ sake.’

Puzzled, Alex looked at him, frowning in annoyance at the driver’s familiarity... Then he felt as if he had been punched in the gut. Somehow he found the control to take out his wallet, extract a ten-pound note. ‘Keep the change.’

George gripped his wrist. ‘You can’t fool me, Alex, this is George, remember? You share a cell wiv someone else as long as what I did, yer get to remember.’ He released Alex’s wrist and there was a long silence. Alex stared out of the window at his house. Barbara was entertaining yet again, he could see all the lights on, the cars in the drive. After a long pause, thirty years of pause, Alex spoke again. ‘How much do you want?’

‘Ahhh, don’t make me ‘it yer! You think I’d try that one? I was your friend, remember me, George? We shared a cell, a flat, an’ yer say that to me... What yer take me for, some kind of fuckin’ bum?’

‘I’m sorry.’

‘I fuckin’ buried yer, mate, stood over yer friggin’ grave, mate. Sorry!’ George turned back to gaze through the windscreen, gripped the wheel tight.

Alex sighed a deep sigh that made his body shudder. This was the nightmare, the moment he had dreaded, when a ghost would rear its head and bring back the past.

‘You know, Alex, I loved yer, the best friend I ever had. I loved yer, and I looked up to yer, and I thought you cared about me. I must have been crazy. Why d’yer do that to me, why?’

Alex asked him to drive around, keep on driving. The car moved off slowly, and it began to rain, heavy drops at first. They sounded loud, like Alex’s heart.

‘Too much happened, George, to even begin to tell you, but believe me, it was not in my control.’ The words sounded hollow. ‘Look, I had a chance to get out and I took it, grabbed it with both hands. My brother engineered everything and I went along with it until it was too late, too complicated to get out of.’

Windsor looked at Alex in the mirror. ‘Don’t have ter make excuses to me, Alex. You done all right, more than all right, just hurt that yer couldn’t tell me. But then maybe if I’d hadda chance, I’d have done the same.’

Alex laughed, a soft, mirthless laugh; he would never, could never even begin to tell George part of it. He rested his arm along the back of the driving seat. ‘George, I’ve never had such a good friend, not ever. In fact, I don’t have a single one now.’

The two of them drove around for over an hour, and at last the car pulled up at Alex’s house again.

‘I need a friend, George, someone I can trust, trust with my secrets, my life...’

Windsor said he was not after a bribe, not even after money, but he would be just as good a friend, any time Alex needed him.

‘Then work for me, be my driver.’ Windsor said he would report for duty the following morning. He promised never to say a word about Alex. As Alex began to climb out of the car, he stopped and held Windsor’s shoulder for a moment in a tight grip, and Windsor touched his hand.

The cab stood at the kerb until the front door closed, then moved slowly off. Windsor whistled, he had played that very well. He would be all right now. Things would be all right from now on.

Alex couldn’t face the roomful of talking, laughing people so he gave Scargill the wink and went upstairs to his rooms. As he undressed, he wondered just how far he could really trust George. He soaped his body, he would have to tie George to him strongly, make sure he was well paid but knew his place.

He began to towel himself dry, and caught his reflection in the steamed-up bathroom mirror. He stared, then wiped it clear, looked at himself. His eyes were red-rimmed, he was exhausted. How many more ghosts from the past could rear up and threaten him? No sooner did he make some headway than something or someone dragged him back. Holding the reins of the vast company was a mammoth task in itself, to be working day and night on trying to piece together Edward’s transactions was impossible, he covered his tracks so well... He still had no idea where his brother was.

‘Where the hell are you, Eddie; where?’ He was shocked at the desperation in his voice. He wanted to smash the mirror with his fist. He pressed his head against the cold glass, calming himself, but it seemed that every way he turned there was a wall, closing in on him, pushing him under, as if he were drowning. He breathed deeply, he had not felt this violent, so physically angry, since he had been in prison. As it was then, his fury was directed at his brother, at Edward, but it was impotent fury, because he could not discover where Edward had run to... unless... South Africa.

George Windsor was half asleep. It was six o’clock in the morning, and the last person he expected to call him was Alex Barkley.

‘George? It’s Alex. Sorry to get you up so early, but... I want to work out, the way we used to... get yourself over to the RAC Club in St James’s...’

George was overawed by the ‘gentlemen’s club’ with the marble swimming pool. But he had little time to take it all in as Alex was already dressed in a tracksuit waiting impatiently. ‘Right, put me through it, just the way you used to. I need to be fit, George... so let’s get cracking. We do this every morning, same time, okay?’

George set Alex a tough programme. The good life had put a lot of extra pounds on Alex, but he never said a word, pushing himself until it was George who had to tell him to take it easy or he’d give himself a heart attack. Alex laughed, he felt good, and George began to give him a massage just the way he used to, pummelling his body, his big strong hands oiling, rubbing him down. George looked into Alex’s face — it was an eerie feeling, so many years had passed. It was as though Alex knew what George was thinking. He opened his eyes, and his voice was soft. ‘I need a friend, George, don’t let me down.’

George turned him over and began to massage his shoulders. ‘Whenever you need me, I’ll be there, you can depend on me, son.’

Alex smiled, and the two old friends shook hands; then Alex pulled George close and held him for a moment.

Fifteen minutes later, Alex emerged from the changing room in an immaculate pin-striped suit, carrying his briefcase. He looked at his gold Rolex, and his voice was sharp. ‘Right, bring the car round, I can make a couple of calls here while I’m waiting.’

George watched Alex stride to the reception desk. He seemed a different person, but it took only a moment for George to size up the situation. Alone, they were friends, but in public George was no more than an employee... So be it, if that was what Alex wanted, that was the way George would play it, just as long as he was paid enough.

Harriet stood in the hall of the manor, her suitcase packed. Dewint gave her a small gift and she accepted it graciously.

‘Where will you go, Mrs Barkley?’

‘Oh, my brother Allard’s got to sell up the old Hall, so I shall be there for a while, you know, sorting through family things. Then perhaps I’ll buy a cottage up there. You must come and stay.’

‘Oh, I would like that immensely.’

‘Where is he? Do you know?’

Dewint couldn’t meet her eyes. ‘I’m afraid I don’t, I got a card from Mexico, and India, he travels... you know the way he is.’

She patted his arm. ‘Yes, yes I know... Well this is goodbye. Thank you for being here, for all the times you were so very kind to me. Oh, how are my lettuces?’

Dewint walked with her to the door, said it was the wrong time of year for lettuce but her garden was coming along fine. The cab driver took her case, and she gave a small, sad wave of her hand as Dewint shut the door. ‘Now don’t you cry, you silly old man, we’ll see each other again, go back in, you’ll catch cold.’

The cab went off down the overgrown driveway, and he stood on the stone steps until there was no possibility of catching another glimpse. She had not stayed long, and not taken very much, only a few clothes and a couple of ornaments she had made. Most of her time she had spent in the main bedroom, and he had not interrupted her. There had been no divorce — the papers were left unsigned, but it was very obvious there was no chance of a reconciliation. Edward had not been to see her once during her recovery — he had sent flowers, but they really came from Miss Henderson, and Harriet knew it.

Dewint made himself a cup of tea, and then took out his clean, well-pressed handkerchief and cried. The house was dying, neglected, unloved and silent. It broke his heart.

Harriet sat well back in the taxi, resting her head against the leather upholstery. She was fifty-four years old, her hair completely grey, and she had taken the scissors to it herself. She had gained more weight and was now almost rotund. But her eyes were bright as a child’s, sparkling when she passed familiar areas. She bought a ham and tomato sandwich at the railway station, munching as she wandered along to her compartment, looking for all the world like an ageing hippy.

Allard met her at the station, very disgruntled as the house sale was taking a very long time to arrange. He was as grey-haired as his sister, and wore a flamboyant bright silk scarf with a rose in his buttonhole. The rest of his garb was as crumpled and disarranged as usual.

Harriet looked him up and down. ‘You know, for a poof, you are quite the worst dresser I’ve ever come across... Aren’t you supposed to be dapper?’

‘Good God, look who’s talking! You’re not exactly straight off the cover of Vogue yourself, are you? And what on earth have you got all those rows of beads round your neck for?’

‘I made them, that’s why. We did it in therapy, and I might go into business, you know, a cottage industry sort of thing. See, each one is painted, hand painted.’

‘I think they’re ghastly. Oh Christ this fucking hill, the car’s only just going to make it.’

They chugged up the hill in Allard’s rotting MG and eventually made it to Haverley Hall. The place was as draughty and as cold as ever, and even more dusty than the manor house. Harriet looked up at the crumbling pile and sighed. ‘Ah well — home, sweet home.’

‘Not for long, the sooner we get shot of this place the better. Have you got any idea how much stuff we have got to sort through and sell? Where are you going? Aren’t you going to make us tea? Harry?’

‘I’ll just go to my room and unpack first...’