alone with Jim again, Edwina began to enumerate the delights of her home in Ireland. ‘I do wish you could see Clonloughlin at this time of year, Jim. It’s perfectly beautiful, everything’s so green. Why don’t you and Paula make plans to come over for a weekend soon? You’ve never seen it, and we’d love to have you. It’s only a hop, skip and a jump in that plane of yours.’
‘Thank you, Edwina, perhaps we will.’ As he spoke Jim knew Paula would never agree. He decided to cover himself, added, ‘However, I don’t think I’ll be able to drag her away from the babies for some time yet.’
‘Yes, I do understand,’ Edwina murmured, wondering if she had been rebuffed, and to cover her confusion, she went on talking nonstop.
Jim, listening politely and trying to be attentive, wished he could make his escape. Because of his height he towered above Edwina, who was quite small, and now he glanced over her silvery blonde head, looking around, wondering what had happened to Paula. Most of their guests had arrived. She was noticeably absent.
Sarah Lowther had just walked in on the arm of her cousin, Jonathan Ainsley. Bryan and Geraldine O’Neill were talking to Alexander Barkstone and his girlfriend. Blackie was standing by the window, engaged in an animated conversation with Randolph Harte, and he appeared to be excited about something, was beckoning to his granddaughter. Miranda floated over to join them, a vision in one of her crazy costumes, her freckled face brimming with laughter, her bright auburn hair gleaming like a copper helmet in the sunshine pouring through the tall windows.
Jim shifted slightly on his feet, surveying the room at large. Emma was perched on the arm of a sofa, being attentive to her brothers’ widows, Charlotte and Natalie. These two genteel-looking ladies gave the impression of frailty and great age in comparison to Emma, who exuded vitality and happiness this afternoon. He studied her face for a moment. He had revered and respected this remarkable woman all the years he had worked for her; since his marriage to her granddaughter he had come to know a different side of her, had grown to love her. Emma had such an understanding heart, was kind and generous, and the most fair minded person he had ever met. What a fool his grandfather had been to let her escape. But he supposed things were difficult in those days. Stupid class differences, he thought, and sighed under his breath. Then, quite suddenly, he wished that Edwin Fairley had lived long enough to witness this day … to see the Fairleys and the Hartes united at last through matrimony. Their blood was mingled now. He and Paula had started a new blood line.
He became aware that Edwina had stopped her ceaseless chattering and was staring up at him. He said quickly, ‘Let me give you a refill, Aunt Edwina, then I think I’d better go and look for Paula. I can’t imagine what’s happened to her.’
‘No more champagne at the moment, thank you, Jim,’ Edwina said with the faintest of smiles. She was determined to remain cool and collected and keep a clear head this afternoon. Too much wine would have an adverse effect on her, make her lose her self-possession. That she could not afford. She said, ‘Before you disappear, there is one thing I’d like to ask of you. I’ve been wondering if you would be kind enough to invite me to your house in Harrogate. I know it belonged to your grandfather.’ She hesitated, nervously cleared her throat, finished, ‘I’d love to see where he … where my father lived for so many years of his life.’
‘Of course, you must come over for drinks,’ Jim said, understanding this need in her. He hoped Paula would not fly into one of her tempers when he told her he had acquiesced to his aunt’s request. He began to edge away when Emily, with Amanda and Francesca in tow, breezed up to them, cutting off his escape route.
Smiling brightly, Emily grabbed his arm, glanced at Edwina and cried, ‘Hello, you two. Isn’t this the most amazing bun fight. I think it’s going to be a super party.’
Jim smiled at her indulgently. He was extremely fond of young Emily. ‘Have you seen my wife anywhere?’ he asked.
‘She went upstairs with the nursemaid and the babies, muttering something about changing them. I guess they wet themselves rather thoroughly.’ Emily giggled and rolled her eyes in an exaggerated fashion. ‘Just be glad they didn’t get that elegant Kilgour and French suit of yours drenched with their wee w–’
‘Really, Emily,’ Edwina sniffed reprovingly, ‘don’t be so vulgar.’ She gave her niece a cold and disapproving look.
Emily, blithely unconcerned, giggled again. ‘Babies do do that, you know. They’re like puppies. They can’t control their bladders. And I wasn’t being vulgar, Aunt Edwina, merely stating a fact of life.’
Jim could not resist laughing, recognizing that Emily was purposely being provocative. He threw her a warning frown, glanced at his aunt, praying she would not pounce on Emily.
Edwina was obviously annoyed. Fortunately, before she could think of a suitably chilly response, Winston hove in view, made a beeline for them, greeted everyone and positioned himself between Emily and Amanda.
He turned to Jim, and said, ‘Sorry to bring up business on such a festive occasion, but I’m afraid I have no alternative. I’d like to get together with you first thing on Monday, to discuss a couple of matters. Will you have time to see me?’
‘Of course,’ Jim said, giving Winston a puzzled look. Concern edged into his eyes and he frowned. ‘Anything serious?’
‘No, no, and the only reason I mentioned it now was to make sure you’d keep an hour free for me. I have to go to Doncaster and Sheffield that day, and the rest of the week is impossible. I’m really jammed.’
‘Then let’s make a definite date, Winston. Say about ten-thirty? I’ll have the first edition out on the streets by then.’
‘That’s fine,’ said Winston.
With this matter settled, Jim said, ‘Your father seems very pleased with himself, and so does Blackie. Look at them both. They’re behaving like a couple of kids with a new toy. What’s all the excitement about?’
Winston glanced over his shoulder and laughed. ‘My father wants to run Emerald Bow in the National next year, and Blackie’s tickled to death about it. I think Aunt Emma’s just as thrilled.’
‘So I can see,’ Jim said.
‘Gosh, what marvellous news, Winston,’ Emily exclaimed.
‘I hope Grandma invites us all to go to Aintree next March.’ The conversation now centred around the Grand National and the possibility of Emerald Bow winning the steeplechase. All kinds of opinions were voiced, and even the fifteen-year-old twins had something to say.
But not Edwina. She was silent.
She sipped the last drop of champagne in her glass, eyed Winston with an oblique surreptitiousness. She did not particularly like him. But then she had never had much time for the Hartes. All they had was pots and pots of money. And looks. She could not deny that they were a good looking family – each and every one of them. Suddenly, with a small start of surprise, she saw how closely Winston resembled her mother. She had always been aware they shared certain physical characteristics, yet had never realized how pointed and strong these were. Why, Winston Harte is a younger, male replica of her, Edwina muttered to herself. More so than any of her children or grandchildren. The same features, so clearly defined they might have been cut by a chisel; that red hair shot through with gold; those quick intelligent eyes of an unnatural green. Even his small hands holding the glass are like hers. My God, it’s uncanny, Edwina thought, and looked away quickly, wondering why this revelation
