Harriet was glad of the wine her father poured for her, but the ordeal looming after the meal killed her enthusiasm for the perfect little salads. To her surprise, Julia carried the used dishes to a sideboard afterwards and ordered Sophie to hand round plates as Harriet served the venison, while Aubrey watched benignly, delighted to see his daughters working in such accord.
‘So why did you want us here tonight, Daddy?’ asked Sophie when they were back in the drawing room.
‘Nothing to do with me.’ He shrugged, and poured himself a cognac. ‘Splendid as it is to have all my girls with me, it’s Harriet’s idea, not mine.’
Julia raised her perfectly threaded eyebrows at her sister. ‘Please tell me I haven’t forgotten some occasion of significance, Harriet. At least I know it’s not your birthday. Have you had a promotion?’
‘Sadly, no.’ Harriet produced her briefcase.
‘Oh, bother,’ groaned Sophie. ‘Don’t say we have to sign things.’
‘No, you don’t.’ Harriet drew up a low table, and spread out some documents. ‘But it’s important that you and Julia are present at this discussion.’
Her father glared at her. ‘Harriet, if this is about accounts you should have discussed it with me first!’
‘In which case,’ she said without emotion, ‘you know perfectly well you would have dismissed my findings as pessimistic nonsense.’
Sophie burst into indignant protest, but Julia silenced her with an upraised hand. ‘These are the accounts for the financial year, Harriet?’
‘Yes.’ For once Harriet was glad of Julia’s input. ‘I may not have spoken to Father first tonight, but I assure you I’ve tried to reason with him on countless other nights before finally calling you both in.’
Aubrey reddened. ‘The girl’s always hammering at me to retrench. But dammit, I lead a very simple life since I retired. How can I be expected to cut down any further?’
Harriet went in for the kill. ‘You sell the house, Father.’
For once Julia and Sophie were in accord as they looked from Harriet to their father in utter horror.
‘Sell River House?’ gasped Sophie.
Julia frowned. ‘It’s as bad as that?’
Harriet eyed her father in challenge, and with much throat clearing he finally admitted that his finances were in a bad way. ‘Like a good many other people, I took a beating on the market recently,’ he admitted gruffly, and poured another brandy.
‘And the bottom line, Harriet?’ demanded Julia.
‘As things stand, Father can’t afford to go on living here without extra revenue coming in. This is a high maintenance house.’
Aubrey nodded morosely. ‘In your grandfather’s day there was a builder on call, and two full-time gardeners on the payroll. Now I get Ed Haines in for maintenance only when strictly necessary, and his son for one day a week in the garden.’
‘And you’re rapidly running out of funds for even that much,’ said Harriet with finality.
Sophie turned on her angrily. ‘Are you sure you’ve got this right? Shouldn’t one of the senior partners in your firm be doing Father’s accounts, not someone junior like you?’
Aubrey Wilde eyed her in disapproval. ‘Apologise to Harriet at once, Sophie.’
‘Sorry, sorry!’ Sophie burst into noisy tears. ‘But I just can’t bear the thought of River House being sold.’
‘Since Harriet is a qualified chartered accountant,’ snapped Julia who, if not affectionate, was always just, ‘her figures are obviously correct.’
‘They were checked by one of the senior partners. Rex Barlow went over them with me, at my request, and agreed with me on every count,’ said Harriet wearily. ‘Funds are needed urgently, or Father has no option. He must sell up.’
‘I can’t manage anything significant in the way of financial help,’ said Julia with regret. ‘The mortgage on the new flat is a killer.’
‘And I can’t ask Gervase for money!’ said Sophie in alarm. ‘He was absolutely horrid to me about my last credit card bill.’
‘Even if either of you could contribute something it would just be a temporary stopgap. However—’ Harriet paused, almost amused as the other three regarded her in sudden hope ‘—if you can’t bear the thought of selling, Father, there might just possibly be another way round the problem.’
He brightened. ‘You’ve thought of something?’
‘Can’t you pay Father more rent for the Lodge?’ said Sophie.
‘If you can’t say anything sensible, for God’s sake keep quiet,’ snapped Julia. ‘Just for the record, how much do you pay, Harriet?’
Colour rose again in Aubrey’s face when Harriet told her.
‘I know it’s too much—’
‘Far too much,’ said Julia trenchantly. ‘No one else would pay anything like that to live in such a poky little place—not that you haven’t made it charming, Harriet,’ she added fairly, ‘and entirely at your own expense at that. But you know damn well you could rent a luxury flat in the town for that money.’
‘So why do you stay here then?’ muttered Sophie sulkily.
‘Because if River House is to remain in the family it needs constant care,’ Harriet told her flatly. ‘When I qualified I offered my free professional help to Father, which means I do the accounts, make sure the household bills are paid on time and consult regularly with Ed Haines about basic house maintenance. But if something isn’t done soon, there won’t be enough money even for that. You’ll have to let Margaret Rogers go, Father, and do the housework and gardening yourself. And sell the new car,’ she added ruthlessly.
This last was so obviously the last straw it would have been amusing in any other circumstances. ‘So what do you have in mind?’ he asked, with unusual humility.
‘Charlotte Brewster is the client who made me late today.’
‘The one who was Head Girl in my day?’ said Julia with interest.
Harriet nodded. ‘She chose me as her accountant because of the school connection.’
‘Never mind all that,’ said Aubrey impatiently. ‘What has this woman to do with our problem?’
‘She’s a professional location agent, working with people who hire out their houses as venues for films, PR events, commercial photo shoots, and so on,’ Harriet told him, human enough to feel satisfaction when his jaw dropped.
‘You’re actually suggesting I let a film crew stampede all over my home?’ he said, aghast.
‘If they find it suitable for their purposes, yes.’
Sophie’s eyes shone.
