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  ‘The first thing we’ll have to do once the will has been executed is look for a replacement for Marsden.’

  ‘But he’s been with the family for over thirty years,’ said Giles. ‘In fact, I can’t remember when he wasn’t there.’

  ‘Which is part of the problem. But don’t worry yourself, my darling, I think I may have found the perfect replacement.’

  ‘But—’

  ‘And if you feel that strongly about it, Bunny, Marsden can always go and work at the Manor House, and take care of my aunts.’

  ‘But—’

  ‘And while I’m on the subject of replacements,’ continued Virginia, ‘it’s high time we had a serious talk about Jackie.’

  ‘My personal secretary?’

  ‘She’s far too personal, in my opinion. I can’t pretend that I approve of this modern habit of staff calling their bosses by their Christian names. No doubt it’s all part of the Labour Party’s absurd notion of equality. However, I felt it necessary to remind her that it’s Lady Virginia.’

  ‘I am sorry,’ said Giles. ‘She’s usually so polite.’

  ‘With you perhaps, but when I rang yesterday, she asked me to hold the line, something I’m not in the habit of doing.’

  ‘I’ll have a word with her about it.’

  ‘Please don’t bother,’ said Virginia, which came as a relief to Giles. ‘Because I shall not be contacting your office again while she remains on your staff.’

  ‘Isn’t that a little extreme? After all, she does a first-class job, and I’d find it almost impossible to replace her.’

  Virginia leant over and kissed him on the cheek. ‘I do hope, Bunny, that I will be the only person you will find it almost impossible to replace.’

  Mr Siddons entered the room, and was not surprised to find that everyone who had received the To Whom It May Concern letter was present. He sat down at his desk and peered at the hopeful faces.

  In the front row sat Sir Giles Barrington and his fiancée, Lady Virginia Fenwick, who was even more striking in person than the photograph he’d seen of her in Country Life soon after the couple had announced their engagement. Mr Siddons was looking forward to making her acquaintance.

  In the second row, seated directly behind them, were Mr Harry Clifton and his wife Emma, who was sitting next to her sister, Grace. It amused him to see that Miss Barrington was wearing blue stockings.

  Mr and Mrs Holcombe sat in the third row, alongside the Reverend Mr Donaldson and a lady who was dressed in a matron’s uniform. The back two rows were filled with staff who had served the Barrington family for many years, their selection of seats revealing their station.

  Mr Siddons perched a pair of half-moon spectacles on the end of his nose and cleared his throat to indicate that proceedings were about to begin.

  He looked over the top of his spectacles at the assembled gathering, before making his opening remarks. He didn’t require any notes, as this was a responsibility he carried out on a regular basis.

  ‘Ladies and gentlemen,’ he began. ‘My name is Desmond Siddons, and I have had the privilege of being the Barrington family’s solicitor for the past twenty-three years, although it will be some time before I equal the record of my father, whose association with the family covered the careers of both Sir Walter and Sir Hugo Barrington. However, I digress.’ Mr Siddons thought Lady Virginia looked as if she agreed with him.

  ‘I am in possession,’ he continued, ‘of the last will and testament of Elizabeth May Barrington, which was executed by me at her request, and signed in the presence of two independent witnesses. Therefore this document,’ he continued, holding it up for all to see, ‘renders any previous will null and void.

  ‘I shall not waste your time going over the pages of legal jargon that are demanded by the law, but rather I will concentrate on the several relevant bequests left by her ladyship. Should anyone wish to study the will in greater detail later, they are most welcome to do so.’

  Mr Siddons looked down, turned the page and adjusted his glasses before continuing.

  ‘Several charities close to the deceased’s heart are named in the will. They include the parish church of St Andrew’s, Dr Barnardo’s homes, and the hospital that nursed Lady Barrington so compassionately through her final days. Each of these establishments will receive a bequest of five hundred pounds.’

  Mr Siddons readjusted his spectacles once again.

  ‘I shall now move on to those individuals who have served the Barrington household over the years. Every member of staff who was employed by Lady Barrington for more than five years will receive an additional year’s salary, while the resident housekeeper and butler will also be granted a further five hundred pounds each.’

  Marsden bowed his head and mouthed the words, thank you, m’lady.

  ‘I now turn to Mrs Holcombe, formerly Mrs Arthur Clifton. To her is bequeathed the Victorian brooch that Lady Barrington wore on the day of her daughter’s wedding, and that she hopes, and I quote her testament, will help Mrs Holcombe recall the many happy times they shared together.’

  Maisie smiled, but could only wonder when she could possibly wear such a magnificent piece of jewellery.

  Mr Siddons turned another page, and pushed his half-moon spectacles back up his nose before he continued.

  ‘I leave to Jessica Clifton, née Piotrovska, my grandfather’s favourite watercolour of the Lock at Cleveland by Turner. I hope it will inspire her, for I believe she possesses a remarkable gift that should be given every opportunity to blossom.’

  Giles nodded, well remembering those words when his mother had explained why she had wanted Jessica to inherit the coveted Turner.

  ‘And to my grandson, Sebastian Arthur Clifton,’ Mr Siddons continued, ‘I bequeath the sum of five thousand pounds, which he will receive when he comes of age, on March the ninth 1961.’

  Giles nodded again. No surprise there, he thought.

  ‘The remainder of my estate, including twenty-two per cent of Barrington Shipping, as well as the Manor House –’ Mr Siddons couldn’t resist a glance in the direction of Lady Virginia Fenwick, who was sitting on the edge of her seat – ‘is to be left to my beloved . . . daughters Emma and Grace, to dispose of as they see fit, with the exception of my Siamese cat, Cleopatra, who I leave to Lady Virginia Fenwick, because they have so much in common. They are both beautiful, well-groomed, vain, cunning, manipulative predators, who assume that everyone else was put on earth to serve them, including my besotted son, who I can only pray will break from the spell she has cast on him before it is too late.’

  It was clear to Mr Siddons from the looks of shock and the whispered chattering that broke out from all quarters of the room that no one had expected this, although he did observe that Mr Clifton remained remarkably calm. Calm was not a word that would have described Lady Virginia, who was whispering something in Giles’s ear.

  ‘That completes the reading of the will,’ said Mr Siddons. ‘If there are any questions, I will be happy to answer them.’

  ‘Just one,’ said Giles, before anyone else had a chance to speak. ‘How long do I have to contest the will?’

  ‘You can lodge an appeal against judgment in the High Court at any time during the next twenty-eight days, Sir Giles,’ said Mr Siddons, having anticipated the question, and the questioner.

  If there were any other questions, Sir Giles and Lady Virginia did not hear them, as they stormed out of the room without another word.

  12

  ‘I’LL DO ANYTHING, my darling,’ he said, ‘but please don’t break off our engagement.’

  ‘How can I be expected to face the world after your mother humiliated me in front of your family, your friends and even the servants?’

  ‘I understand,’ said Giles, ‘of course I do, but Mother was clearly not in her right mind. She can’t have realized what she was doing.’

  ‘You said you’ll do anything?’ said Virginia, toying with her engagement ring.

  ‘Anything,
my darling.’

  ‘The first thing you must do is sack your secretary. And her replacement must meet with my approval.’

  ‘Consider it done,’ said Giles meekly.

  ‘And tomorrow, you will appoint a leading firm of lawyers to contest the will and, whatever the consequences, you’ll fight tooth and nail to make sure we win.’

  ‘I’ve already consulted Sir Cuthbert Makins KC.’

  ‘Tooth and nail,’ repeated Virginia.

  ‘Tooth and nail,’ said Giles. ‘Anything else?’

  ‘Yes. When the wedding invitations are sent out next week, I, and I alone, will approve the guest list.’

  ‘But that could mean—’

  ‘It will. Because I want everyone who was in that room to know what it feels like to be rejected.’ Giles bowed his head. ‘Ah, I see,’ said Virginia, removing her engagement ring. ‘So you didn’t really mean you’d do anything.’

  ‘Yes I did, my darling. I agree, you alone can decide who’s invited to the wedding.’

  ‘And finally,’ said Virginia, ‘you will instruct Mr Siddons to issue a court order removing every member of the Clifton family from Barrington Hall.’

  ‘But where will they live?’

  ‘I don’t give a damn where they live,’ said Virginia. ‘The time has come for you to decide whether you want to spend the rest of your life with me, or with them.’

  ‘I want to spend the rest of my life with you,’ said Giles.

  ‘Then that’s settled, Bunny,’ said Virginia, as she put the engagement ring back on, and began to undo the buttons on the front of her dress.

  Harry was reading The Times, and Emma the Telegraph, when the phone rang. The door opened and Denby entered the breakfast room.

  ‘It’s your publisher, Mr Collins, on the line, sir. He wondered if he might have a word with you.’

  ‘I doubt if that’s how he put it,’ said Harry as he folded his newspaper.

  Emma was so engrossed in the article she was reading that she didn’t even look up when her husband left the room. She had come to the end of it by the time he returned.

  ‘Let me guess,’ she said.

  ‘Billy’s had calls from most of the national papers, as well as the BBC, asking if I want to make a statement.’

  ‘What did you say?’

  ‘No comment. I told him there was no need to add fuel to this particular fire.’

  ‘I can’t imagine that will satisfy Billy Collins,’ said Emma. ‘All he’s interested in is selling books.’

  ‘He didn’t expect anything else, and he’s not complaining. He told me he’ll be shipping a third reprint of the paperback into the bookshops early next week.’

  ‘Would you like to hear how the Telegraph is reporting it?’

  ‘Do I have to?’ said Harry as he sat back down at the breakfast table.

  Emma ignored the comment and began reading out loud.

  ‘ “The wedding took place yesterday of Sir Giles Barrington MC MP and The Lady Virginia Fenwick, the only daughter of the Ninth Earl of Fenwick. The bride wore a gown designed by Mr Norman—”’

  ‘At least spare me that,’ said Harry.

  Emma skipped a couple of paragraphs. ‘“Four hundred guests attended the ceremony, which was held at the Church of St Margaret’s, Westminster. The service was conducted by the Right Reverend George Hastings, Bishop of Ripon. Afterwards, a reception was held on the terrace of the House of Commons. Among the guests were Her Royal Highness Princess Margaret, The Earl Mountbatten of Burma, The Right Hon. Clement Attlee, Leader of the Opposition, and The Right Hon. Mr William Morrison, speaker of the House of Commons. The list of guests who attended the wedding makes interesting reading, but far more fascinating are the names of those who were absent, either because they did not receive an invitation, or because they did not wish to attend. Not one member of the Barrington family other than Sir Giles himself was on the guest list. The absence of his two sisters, Mrs Emma Clifton and Miss Grace Barrington, as well as his brother-in-law, Harry Clifton, the popular author, remains something of a mystery, especially as it was announced some weeks ago that he would be Sir Giles’s best man.” ’

  ‘So who was the best man?’ asked Harry.

  ‘Dr Algernon Deakins of Balliol College, Oxford.’

  ‘Dear Deakins,’ said Harry. ‘An excellent choice. He certainly would have been on time, and there would have been no chance of him mislaying the ring. Is there anything else?’

  ‘I’m afraid so. “What makes this even more of a mystery is that six years ago, when the case of Barrington v. Clifton was before the House of Lords and a vote was taken to decide who should inherit the Barrington title and estates, Sir Giles and Mr Clifton seemed to be in accord when the Lord Chancellor gave judgment in favour of Sir Giles. The happy couple,”’ continued Emma, ‘“will spend their honeymoon at Sir Giles’s villa in Tuscany.”

  ‘That’s a bit rich,’ said Emma, looking up. ‘The villa was left to Grace and me to dispose of as we saw fit.’

  ‘Behave yourself, Emma,’ said Harry. ‘You saw fit to let Giles have the villa in exchange for us being allowed to move into the Manor House until the courts decide on the validity of the will. Is that it?’

  ‘No, the really juicy bit is still to come. “However, it now looks as if a major rift has divided the family following the death of Sir Giles’s mother, Lady Elizabeth Barrington. In her recently published will, she left the bulk of her estate to her two daughters, Emma and Grace, while bequeathing nothing to her only son. Sir Giles has issued proceedings to contest the will, and the case will be heard in the High Court next month.” That’s it. What about The Times?’

  ‘Far more sober. Just the facts, no speculation. But Billy Collins tells me there’s a photograph of Cleopatra on the front pages of the Mail and the Express, and the Mirror’s headline is “Battle of the Cats”.’

  ‘How can it have come to this?’ said Emma. ‘What I’ll never understand is how Giles could have allowed that woman to stop his own family attending the wedding.’

  ‘I can’t understand it either,’ said Harry, ‘but then I never understood how the Prince of Wales could give up the throne for an American divorcee. I suspect your mother was right. Giles is simply besotted with the woman.’

  ‘If my mother had wanted me to give you up,’ said Emma, ‘I would have defied her.’ She gave him a warm smile. ‘So I have some sympathy with my brother.’

  For the next fortnight, photographs of Sir Giles and Lady Barrington on their honeymoon in Tuscany appeared in most of the national papers.

  Harry’s fourth novel, Mightier than the Sword, was published on the day the Barringtons returned from Italy. The following morning the same photograph appeared on every front page except The Times.

  When the happy couple stepped off the train at Waterloo, they had to pass a W.H. Smith bookshop on the way to their car. There was only one novel displayed in vast numbers in the window. A week later, Mightier than the Sword made it on to the bestseller list, and it remained there right up until the opening day of the trial.

  All Harry had to say was that no one understood how to promote a book better than Billy Collins.

  13

  THE ONE THING Giles and Emma were able to agree on was that it would be wiser for the case to be heard in a closed court with a judge presiding, rather than risking the unpredictable whims of a jury and relentless hounding by the press. The Hon. Mr Justice Cameron was selected to preside over the case, and both counsel assured their clients that he was a man of probity, wisdom and common sense in equal proportions.

  Although the press assembled in great numbers outside court No. 6, good morning and good night were the only comments they got from either party.

  Giles was represented by Sir Cuthbert Makins KC, while Emma and Grace had selected Mr Simon Todd KC to put their case, although Grace made it clear that she would not be attending proceedings as she had far more important things to do.

  ‘Like what?�
�� asked Emma.

  ‘Like teaching clever children, rather than listening to arguments from childish grown-ups. If I were given the choice, I’d just bang both your heads together,’ was her final comment on the subject.

  As the clock behind the judge’s chair struck the first of ten chimes on the first day of the hearing, Mr Justice Cameron made his entrance. Everyone else in court followed the example of the two silks, rising and bowing to his lordship. Once he had returned the compliment, he took his seat in the high-backed leather chair in front of the royal coat of arms. He adjusted his wig, opened the thick red file in front of him and took a sip of water before addressing both parties.

  ‘Ladies and gentlemen,’ he began. ‘It is my job to listen to the arguments presented by both leading counsel, assess the evidence of witnesses, and consider the points of law that are relevant to this case. I must begin by asking counsel for both the plaintiff and the defence if every effort has been made to come to an out-of-court settlement.’

  Sir Cuthbert rose slowly from his place and tugged the lapels of his long black gown before addressing the court. ‘I speak on behalf of both parties when I say that sadly, m’lud, that has not been possible.’

  ‘Then let us proceed, Sir Cuthbert, with your opening statement.’

  ‘If it so pleases your lordship, in this case I represent the plaintiff, Sir Giles Barrington. The case, m’lud, concerns the validity of a will, and whether the late Lady Barrington was of sufficiently sound mind to put her signature to a long and complex document, with far-reaching ramifications, only hours before she died. I submit, m’lud, that this frail and exhausted woman was in no position to make a considered judgement that would affect the lives of so many people. I shall also show that Lady Barrington had executed an earlier will, some twelve months prior to her death, when she was in rude health, and had more than enough time to consider her actions. And to that end, m’lud, I would like to call my first witness, Mr Michael Pym.’