The outcome was as the headmaster of St Bede’s had predicted, mixed. His Latin, French, English and maths papers were of scholarship level, while he barely made the pass mark in history, failed narrowly in geography, and scored just 9 per cent in his natural sciences paper.
Dr Hedley called Harry at Barrington Hall moments after the results had been posted on the school notice board.
‘I’ll have a private word with John Garrett, my opposite number at BGS,’ he said, ‘and remind him that Sebastian scored a hundred per cent in Latin and maths, and will almost certainly be scholarship material by the time it comes for him to go to university.’
‘You might also remind him,’ said Harry, ‘that both his uncle and I were at BGS, and his grandfather, Sir Walter Barrington, was chairman of the governors.’
‘I don’t think he’ll need reminding,’ said Hedley. ‘But I will point out that Sebastian’s grandmother was in hospital while he was taking the exams. All we can do is hope he backs my judgement.’
He did. Dr Hedley called Harry at the end of the week to say that the headmaster of BGS would be recommending to the board that, despite Sebastian failing two of the set papers, he should still be offered a place at BGS for the Michaelmas term.
‘Thank you,’ said Harry. ‘That’s the first good news I’ve had in weeks.’
‘But,’ Hedley added, ‘he reminded me that in the end it will be the board’s decision.’
Harry was the last person to visit his mother-in-law that night, and was just about to leave when Elizabeth whispered, ‘Can you stay for a few more minutes, my dear? There’s something I need to discuss with you.’
‘Yes, of course,’ said Harry, sitting back down on the edge of the bed.
‘I spent the morning with Desmond Siddons, our family lawyer,’ Elizabeth said, stumbling over each word, ‘and I wanted to let you know that I’ve executed a new will, because I can’t bear the thought of that dreadful woman Virginia Fenwick getting her hands on any of my possessions.’
‘I don’t think that’s a problem any longer. We haven’t seen or heard from Virginia for weeks, so I assume it’s all over.’
‘The reason you haven’t seen or heard from her for weeks, Harry, is because she wants me to believe it’s all over. It’s not a coincidence that she disappeared from the scene only days after Giles learned I didn’t have long to live.’
‘I’m sure you’re overreacting, Elizabeth. I don’t believe even Virginia could be that callous.’
‘My dear Harry, you always give everyone the benefit of the doubt because you have such a generous nature. It was a lucky day for Emma when she met you.’
‘It’s sweet of you to say so, Elizabeth, but I’m sure that given time—’
‘That’s the one thing I don’t have.’
‘Then perhaps we should ask Virginia to come and visit you?’
‘I’ve made it clear to Giles on several occasions that I’d like to meet her, but each time I’ve been rebuffed with more and more unlikely excuses. Now, why do you think that is? Don’t bother to answer, Harry, because you’ll be the last person to work out what Virginia’s really up to. And you can be sure she won’t make her move until after my funeral.’ A flicker of a smile crossed Elizabeth’s face before she added, ‘But I still have one card up my sleeve, which I don’t intend to play until I’ve been lowered into my grave, when my spirit will return like an avenging angel.’
Harry didn’t interrupt Elizabeth as she leant back and, with all the energy she could muster, removed an envelope from under her pillow. ‘Now listen to me carefully, Harry,’ she said. You must be sure to carry out my instructions to the letter.’ She gripped his hand. ‘If Giles should contest my latest will—’
‘But why would he do that?’
‘Because he’s a Barrington, and Barringtons have always been weak when it comes to women. So, if he should contest my latest will,’ she repeated, ‘you must give this envelope to the judge who is selected to decide which member of the family will inherit my estate.’
‘And if he doesn’t?’
‘You must destroy it,’ said Elizabeth, her breathing becoming shallower by the second. ‘You are not to open it yourself, or ever let Giles or Emma know of its existence.’ She tightened her grip on his hand, and whispered almost inaudibly, ‘Now you must give me your word, Harry Clifton, because I know Old Jack taught you that should always be enough.’
‘You have my word,’ said Harry, and placed the envelope in an inside pocket of his jacket.
Elizabeth relaxed her grip, and sank back on the pillow, a contented smile on her lips. She never did discover if Sydney Carton escaped the guillotine.
Harry opened the post while he was having breakfast.
Bristol Grammar School,
University Road,
Bristol
July 27th, 1951
Dear Mr Clifton,
I am sorry to inform you that your son, Sebastian, has not been . . .
Harry leapt up from the breakfast table and walked across to the telephone. He dialled the number at the bottom of the letter.
‘Headmaster’s office,’ announced a voice.
‘May I speak to Mr Garrett?’
‘Who’s calling, please?’
‘Harry Clifton.’
‘I’ll put you through, sir.’
‘Good morning, headmaster. My name is Harry Clifton.’
‘Good morning, Mr Clifton. I’ve been expecting your call.’
‘I can’t believe the board came to such an ill-founded decision.’
‘Frankly, Mr Clifton, neither could I, especially after I’d pleaded your son’s case so vehemently.’
‘What reason did they give for turning him down?’
‘That they mustn’t be seen to be making an exception for an old boy’s son when he’d failed to obtain the pass mark in two compulsory subjects.’
‘And that was their only reason?’
‘No,’ replied the headmaster. ‘One of the governors raised the matter of your son being cautioned by the police for shoplifting.’
‘But there’s a perfectly innocent explanation for that incident,’ said Harry, trying not to lose his temper.
‘I don’t doubt there is,’ said Garrett, ‘but our new chairman couldn’t be swayed on the matter.’
‘Then he’ll be my next call. What’s his name?’
‘Major Alex Fisher.’
GILES BARRINGTON
1951–1954
9
GILES WAS DELIGHTED although not surprised to find that the parish church of St Andrew’s, where Elizabeth Harvey had been married, and her three children baptised and later confirmed, was packed with family, friends and admirers.
The Reverend Mr Donaldson’s tribute reminded everyone how much Elizabeth Barrington had done for the local community. Indeed, he said, without her generosity, the restoration of the church tower would not have been possible. He went on to tell the congregation just how many people, far beyond these walls, had benefited from her wisdom and insight when she was patron of the cottage hospital, and of the role she had played as head of her family, following the death of Lord Harvey. Giles was relieved, as no doubt were most of those present, that the vicar made no reference to his father.
Reverend Donaldson ended his eulogy with the words, ‘Elizabeth’s life was cut short by her untimely death at the age of fifty-one, but it is not for us to question the will of our Lord.’
After he had returned to his pew, Giles and Sebastian each read a lesson, ‘The Good Samaritan’ and ‘The Sermon on the Mount’, while Emma and Grace recited verses by their mother’s favourite poets. Emma chose Shelley:
Lost angel of a ruined paradise!
She knew not ’twas her own, – as with no stain
She faded, like a cloud which had outwept its rain.
While Grace read from Keats:
Stop and consider! life is but a day;
A fragile dew-drop on its perilous way
/> From a tree’s summit; a poor Indian’s sleep
While his boat hastens to the monstrous steep . . .
As the congregation filed out of the church, several people asked who the attractive woman on Sir Giles’s arm was. Harry couldn’t help thinking that Elizabeth’s prediction was already coming to pass. Dressed entirely in black, Virginia was standing at Giles’s right hand as the pall-bearers lowered Elizabeth’s coffin into the grave. Harry recalled his mother-in-law’s words: I still have one card up my sleeve.
After the burial service had been completed, the family and a few close friends were invited to join Giles, Emma and Grace at Barrington Hall for what the Irish would have called a wake. Virginia moved deftly from mourner to mourner, introducing herself as if she were already the lady of the house. Giles didn’t seem to notice, and if he did, clearly didn’t disapprove.
‘Hello, I’m Lady Virginia Fenwick,’ she said when she met Harry’s mother for the first time. ‘And where do you fit in?’
‘I’m Mrs Holcombe,’ Maisie replied. ‘Harry’s my son.’
‘Oh, yes, of course,’ said Virginia. ‘Aren’t you a waitress or something?’
‘I’m the manager of the Grand Hotel in Bristol,’ Maisie said, as if dealing with a tiresome customer.
‘Of course you are. But then, it will take me a little time to get used to the idea of women working. You see, the women in my family have never worked,’ Virginia said, quickly moving on before Maisie could respond.
‘Who are you?’ asked Sebastian.
‘I’m Lady Virginia Fenwick, and who are you, young man?’
‘Sebastian Clifton.’
‘Ah yes. Has your father finally managed to find a school that will take you?’
‘I’ll be going to Beechcroft Abbey in September,’ countered Sebastian.
‘Not a bad school,’ replied Virginia, ‘but hardly top drawer. My three brothers were all educated at Harrow, as the past seven generations of Fenwicks have been.’
‘Where did you go to school?’ asked Sebastian, as Jessica came rushing across to him.
‘Have you seen the Constable, Seb?’ she asked.
‘Little girl, don’t interrupt me when I’m speaking,’ said Virginia. ‘It’s frightfully rude.’
‘Sorry, miss,’ said Jessica.
‘I’m not “miss”, you should always address me as Lady Virginia.’
‘Have you seen the Constable, Lady Virginia?’ asked Jessica.
‘I have indeed, and it compares favourably with the three in my family collection. But it’s not in the same class as our Turner. Have you heard of Turner?’
‘Yes, Lady Virginia,’ said Jessica. ‘J. M. W. Turner, possibly the greatest watercolourist of his age.’
‘My sister’s an artist,’ said Sebastian. ‘I think she’s just as good as Turner.’
Jessica giggled. ‘Excuse him, Lady Virginia, as Mama often reminds him, he does have a tendency to exaggerate.’
‘Clearly,’ said Virginia, leaving them to go off in search of Giles, as she felt it was time for the guests to leave.
Giles accompanied the vicar to the front door, which was taken as a sign by the remainder of the guests that the time had come for everyone else to depart. When he closed the door for the last time, he breathed a sigh of relief, and returned to the drawing room to join the family.
‘Well, I think that went as well as could be expected in the circumstances,’ he said.
‘One or two of the hangers-on treated it more like a feast than a wake,’ said Virginia.
‘Would you mind, old chap,’ Giles said, turning to Harry, ‘if we dressed for dinner? Virginia feels strongly about that sort of thing.’
‘One can’t afford to let standards slip,’ volunteered Virginia.
‘My father couldn’t have let them slip much further,’ said Grace, which caused Harry to stifle a laugh. ‘But I’m afraid you’ll have to count me out. I have to get back to Cambridge as I have a supervision to prepare. In any case,’ she added, ‘I came dressed for a funeral, not a dinner party. Don’t bother to show me out.’
Giles was waiting in the drawing room when Harry and Emma came down for dinner.
Marsden poured them each a dry sherry, then left the room to check that everything was running to schedule.
‘A sad occasion,’ said Harry. ‘Let’s drink to a great lady.’
‘To a great lady,’ said Giles and Emma, raising their glasses as Virginia swept into the room.
‘Were you talking about me, by any chance?’ she asked, without any suggestion of irony.
Giles laughed, while Emma could only admire the magnificent silk taffeta gown that swept away any memories of Virginia’s mourning weeds. Virginia touched her diamond and ruby necklace to make sure Emma hadn’t missed it.
‘What a beautiful piece of jewellery,’ said Emma on cue, as Giles handed Virginia a gin and tonic.
‘Thank you,’ said Virginia. ‘It belonged to my great-grandmother, the Dowager Duchess of Westmorland, who bequeathed it to me in her will. Marsden,’ she said, turning to the butler, who had just returned, ‘the flowers in my room are beginning to wilt. Perhaps you could replace them before I retire this evening.’
‘Certainly, m’lady. When you are ready, Sir Giles, dinner is served.’
‘I don’t know about you,’ said Virginia, ‘but I’m famished. Shall we go through?’ Without waiting for a reply, she linked arms with Giles and led them all out of the room.
During the meal, Virginia regaled them with stories about her ancestors, making them sound like the backbone of the British Empire. Generals, bishops, cabinet ministers, and of course a few black sheep, she admitted – what family doesn’t have one or two of those? She hardly drew breath until the dessert had been cleared, when Giles dropped his bombshell. He tapped his wine glass with a spoon to ensure he had everyone’s attention.
‘I have some wonderful news to share with you,’ he announced. ‘Virginia has paid me the great honour of consenting to be my wife.’
An uneasy silence followed, until Harry eventually said, ‘Many congratulations.’ Emma somehow managed a weak smile. As Marsden uncorked a bottle of champagne and filled their glasses, Harry couldn’t help thinking that Elizabeth had only been in her grave for a few hours before Virginia had fulfilled her prophecy.
‘Of course, once we’re married,’ said Virginia, touching Giles gently on his cheek, ‘there are bound to be a few changes around here. But I can’t imagine that will come as much of a surprise,’ she said, smiling warmly at Emma.
Giles appeared so bewitched by her every word that he simply nodded his approval whenever she came to the end of a sentence.
‘Giles and I,’ she continued, ‘plan to move into Barrington Hall soon after we’re married, but as a general election is on the cards, the wedding will have to be put off for a few months, which should give you more than enough time to find somewhere else to live.’
Emma put down her glass of champagne and stared at her brother, who didn’t meet her gaze.
‘I’m sure you’ll understand, Emma,’ he said, ‘that we’d like to begin our married life with Virginia as the mistress of Barrington Hall.’
‘Of course,’ said Emma. ‘Frankly, I’ll be only too happy to return to the Manor House, where I spent so many happy years as a child.’
Virginia glared at her fiancé.
‘Ah,’ Giles eventually managed. ‘I had intended to give Virginia the Manor House as a wedding present.’
Emma and Harry glanced at each other, but before either of them could speak, Virginia said, ‘I have two elderly aunts, both of whom have recently been widowed. It will be so convenient for them.’
‘Giles, have you even considered what might be convenient for Harry and me?’ asked Emma, staring directly at her brother.
‘Perhaps you could move into one of the cottages on the estate?’ suggested Giles.
‘I don’t think that would be appropriate, my darling,’ said Vi
rginia, taking his hand. ‘We mustn’t forget that I plan to have a large household, in keeping with my position as the daughter of an earl.’
‘I have no desire to live in a cottage on the estate,’ said Emma, spitting out the words. ‘We can afford to buy our own home, thank you.’
‘I’m sure you can, my dear,’ said Virginia. ‘After all, Giles tells me Harry is quite a successful author.’
Emma ignored the comment and, turning to her brother, said, ‘How can you be so sure that the Manor House is yours to give away?’
‘Because some time ago, Mama took me through her will line by line. I’d be only too happy to share its contents with you and Harry if you think it might help you plan for the future.’
‘I really don’t think it’s appropriate to discuss Mama’s will on the day of her funeral.’
‘I don’t want to appear insensitive, my dear,’ said Virginia, ‘but as I’ll be returning to London in the morning, and will be spending most of my time preparing for the wedding, I think it would be best to sort out these matters while we’re all together.’ She turned to Giles, and gave him the same sweet smile.
‘I agree with Virginia,’ said Giles. ‘No time like the present. And I can assure you, Emma, Mother has made more than adequate provision for both you and Grace. She has left you ten thousand pounds each, and divided her jewellery equally between you. And she’s left Sebastian five thousand, which he’ll inherit when he comes of age.’
‘Such a fortunate child,’ said Virginia. ‘She’s also given her Turner of Lock at Cleveland to Jessica, but it will remain in the family until she’s twenty-one.’ In that one sentence, Virginia revealed that Giles had shared the details of his mother’s will with his fiancée, before bothering to tell either Emma or Grace. ‘Most generous,’ continued Virginia, ‘remembering that Jessica is not even a member of the family.’
‘We look upon Jessica as our daughter,’ said Harry sharply, ‘and treat her as such.’
‘Half-sister, I think would be more accurate,’ said Virginia. ‘And we mustn’t forget that she’s a Barnardo’s orphan, as well as being Jewish. I suppose it’s because I come from Yorkshire that I have a tendency to call a spade a spade.’