in a massive avalanche in the town of Chamonix.
Because Tessa had been born a few minutes before Lorne, she was the eldest, and never allowed him, nor anyone else for that matter, to forget this fact. She forever reminded them she was Paula’s heir apparent as the first of her six children, only five of whom were now living.
Suddenly contemplating Tessa’s competitiveness and rivalry, Linnet cringed inside. She hated confrontation and in-fighting, and was usually the peacemaker in the family. Now perhaps this was no longer a viable role.
She and her cousin Gideon had discussed Tessa’s attitude just the other day, and he had reminded her that Tessa was jealous of her, and envious.
Although she loathed the thought of this, Linnet had found herself in agreement with her cousin. He had pointed out how mean-spirited Tessa had been when they were children. She had also been a troublemaker at times. ‘A leopard doesn’t change its spots that easily,’ he had muttered.
A feeling of dismay now lodged in Linnet’s stomach. Nothing had changed really, even though she and her sister were now grown-up. Tessa had bullied her, bossed her around when she was little, and in some ways she was still attempting to do so, however indirectly.
Quite unexpectedly, Linnet remembered how she had stood up to Tessa when she was only five, surprising everyone, herself included, and Tessa most of all. Certainly she had shown her independence, that she was feisty, and had the spirit of Emma Harte in her. Her twelve-year-old sister had finally backed off after Linnet had proved she was a match for her.
Linnet laughed out loud, her laughter floating out across the empty fells, reverberating back to her in a series of echoes. She had just remembered an incident with Tessa’s bright yellow sunhat, of which Tessa had been so proud. It had been ruined in the swimming pool at the Villa Faviola in France, and Linnet could see it now, in her mind’s eye, floating so serenely in the pool. Where she had deliberately tossed it … how pleased with herself she had been.
And how angry Tessa had been with her that day, screaming that she had wilfully destroyed her expensive, brand-new hat, purchased with a whole week’s pocket money at the open-air market in Nice.
On that particular morning, Gideon had roared with laughter, and so had his brother Toby, much to Tessa’s annoyance, since Toby was usually one of her drooling sycophants, yes-ing her to death and fawning all over her. As he still did to this day.
As for Tessa, it had been obvious that she was so startled by Linnet’s courage and audacity that she was totally flabbergasted. Their mother had been secretly amused by these goings-on, and had had a hard time smothering her laughter.
Tessa was now thirty-one and a married woman. Her husband, Mark Longden, was a well-known architect who had made something of a name for himself with his ultra-modern buildings. They had a three-year-old daughter Adele, named in honour of Tessa’s great-great grandmother, Adele Fairley. Tessa was very proud of her connection to that aristocratic family, and this was another point she liked to ram home to people, at least those who were interested and would listen.
In spite of her age and position in the world, Tessa could still be mean, often for no apparent reason. The family was conscious of this, and appalled at her behaviour which they deemed to be immature, and frequently rather ugly.
Linnet and Tessa worked for their mother at Harte’s in Knightsbridge, the chain’s flagship store. But Tessa had a much more important job than she did; her sister managed a number of departments, while she ran only the fashion floors, and assisted her mother with merchandising and marketing. There was no question that Tessa had more power, and yet in the last few months her sister had grown increasingly hostile towards her.
Only the other day, Linnet had experienced a peculiar feeling, a premonition really, that trouble was brewing and would soon erupt. The mere idea of this was alarming, especially since the cause of Tessa’s recent animosity eluded her.
The distant rumble of thunder brought Linnet out of her reverie and, startled, she sat up straighter on the boulder, lifted her eyes to the sky. It looked curdled, suddenly darker, and there was no denying that a storm threatened.
Not wanting to be caught up here in the rain, or perhaps even a blizzard since it was so cold, she jumped up. Turning away from the extraordinary view of the upper fells, she headed down the steep path at once, making for her home just visible below her in the valley.
It had been a long steady pull on the way up, but it was much easier going down, and she moved at a fairly rapid pace. Thoughts of her elder sister continued to preoccupy her. Linnet was baffled by Tessa’s coldness in these last few weeks. Normally she was much friendlier. There seemed to be no good reason for the change in her demeanour … unless she knew, somehow, about their mother’s intentions regarding Pennistone Royal and who would inherit it one day.
But how could she know?
The question hovered there. Linnet pondered on it, casting her mind back to the meeting she had had with their mother in November.
The conversation had been held in private, in her mother’s inner sanctum at the Leeds store. They had been entirely alone, and in any case Tessa was in London at the time. No, she couldn’t possibly have any inkling of it, Linnet decided.
And yet … she thought of the way Tessa had directed some of her hostility towards their mother in December – at least that was the way Linnet had read it, and she was surprised at the time. Unexpectedly, Tessa had announced that she would not be coming to Pennistone Royal for Christmas. This was tantamount to sacrilege in the family, and everyone was taken aback.
For years and years the Hartes, the O’Neills and the Kallinskis had celebrated the important holidays together at Pennistone Royal. It was a tradition that had begun in 1933, just after Emma Harte had purchased the grand house and its vast estate outside Ripon.
‘The gathering of the three clans,’ her grandfather called it, and that was exactly what it was. Emma Harte, Blackie O’Neill and David Kallinski had become friends very early in the twentieth century, and had remained friends throughout their lives, as had their growing families. And the Hartes and the O’Neills were now joined in marriage and by blood.
‘Ninety-five, ninety-six years, Linnet,’ her grandfather had explained to her this past Christmas. ‘That’s how far our relationships go back. Spending Christmas together is mandatory. As David Kallinski used to say, we’re mishpocheh … family.’
Not unnaturally, their mother had been very upset with Tessa when she had learned of her intention to remain in London over the holidays. Dismayed and hurt, Paula had finally laid down the law as only she could, in her inimitable Emma Harte style.
Of course Tessa, in the end, had had no alternative but to acquiesce, commit to the visit, no doubt encouraged to do so by Mark Longden, who knew a good thing when he saw it. Like any smart gambler, he always had his eye on the main chance.
Ever since he had slithered so skilfully into their lives five years ago, Linnet had been scrutinizing him surreptitiously.
And she continued to observe him, saw how obsequiously attentive he was to their mother. It was quite apparent to her that he obviously regarded Paula not only as the matriarch to be kow-towed to, but Mrs Moneybags to be endlessly flattered.
Linnet had been suspicious of Mark from the beginning; had considered him to be an opportunist and a gold-digger. And she had often wondered what the beautiful Tessa had ever seen in him. For beautiful her sister was, and she could
