We all jumped as Archie slammed his fist down hard on the table in front of Rose. Silver rattled violently.

'Enough!' he hissed in her face.

Rose blanched. She blinked back in horror. 'Archie, whatever-'

'Enough, Rose! Everyone, in fact!' He glared around the table.

'But but why?' she stammered.

'Because there isn't going to be a wedding. Certainly not to Rozanna Carling!'

'B-but Archie. I thought you liked her! I thought you knew her, you introduced me to her. Why on earth-'

'Because ... she is ... a tart.' He enunciated it, in measured tones, through clenched teeth.

Rose stared. 'A tart!' She inched back, perceptibly, in her chair.

'What's a tart?' piped up Ben.

'You know, like Pinkie,' offered Max helpfully.

'Max!' I swung around, appalled.

'But you said so, Mum. To Teresa, I heard you.'

'No no,' I bl.u.s.tered, 'not this Pinkie, darling.' Christ, how many Pinkies could there be? 'Pinkie Jameson the one I was at school with.'

'Ah, that Pinkie,' muttered Jack drily.

I glared at him and avoided Pinkie's eye, flushing madly.

'But but surely you don't mean,' Rose was still struggling to get to grips with this preposterous proposition, still glued, in fact, to Archie's uncompromising, pale blue eyes. 'You surely don't mean a proper one? You just mean she's had a few boyfriends. You don't mean well, like a call girl?'

'That's exactly what I do mean, Rose,' said Archie with a terrible clenched calmness. 'Rozanna Carling is a high-cla.s.s courtesan. She is a woman in the mould of Christine Keeler. Very expensive, very select, but a courtesan, none the less. A prost.i.tute.' There was a silence.

'For money?'

'For money.'

Another silence ensued.

'How do you know?' Rose gasped, at length.

Archie ground his teeth savagely. 'One ... just ... does,' he hissed.

Although she wasn't beside me, I felt Rose stiffen. Her lips were bloodless as she gazed into her husband's pale, bulging eyes. As he glared back at her, something tacit and unbeknown to the rest of us went on between those eyes. Something that went way back. Suddenly Archie remembered his audience. He went on evenly.

'There are some things, Rose, that happily you have no knowledge of. Things that go on in the world, that happen to other people, away from the safety of Netherby, away from your rose garden, that you simply wouldn't believe.' He gave a thin smile.

She stared at him. 'Oh, I can believe it all right,' she said softly. Her lips were taut. 'I can believe it, Archie.'

I looked down at my hands. Others regarded their plates with equally false intent and concentration. Archie straightened up, eyes still on his wife.

'So there will be no wedding,' he went on quietly. 'And if there is, if Hector persists on seeing this woman, and going through with this ridiculous charade, then there will be no inheritance. He'll get nothing from me. Not this house, this land, nothing. He forfeits everything. This - liaison,' he spat the word out in disgust, 'must end. And if it doesn't, and it may not, then he's finished. He may not bring that woman here, neither may he set foot in this house again. That is my final word on it'

With that he turned and marched back into the house, slamming the French windows behind him. The gla.s.s rattled in its frames. There was a shocked silence.

Rose put a trembling hand to her bosom, her face white.

'Oh G.o.d, he means it.' She whispered. 'Oh my G.o.d, my poor Hector. Jack, he means it,' she turned imploringly to the only man present. 'He'll turn Hector out on the streets! He -he'll be a t.o.s.s.e.r!'

Jack frowned. 'A t.o.s.s.e.r?'

'Yes, you know,' she waved her hanky wildly, 'sleeping in doorways, in a cardboard box!' She suppressed a little moan. 'Dosser, Mummy,' muttered Pinkie.

'Whatever,' she said dismissively. 'Either way it'll be the end of him.' She straightened up suddenly with an almighty sniff. 'Archie's mind is made up, I can see that. So,' she clutched her heart, eyes wide in horror, 'so - oh dear G.o.d, that'll be two of my sons gone! First Ned, and now Hector. Oh, where will it all end!'

At this point she was ambushed by tears. Lavinia and Pinkie instantly got up and moved smartly into action like a pincer movement, one at each shoulder, hugging and squeezing hard. This only served to make her sob louder. My boys were transfixed, eyes wide, mouths slack, and it occurred to me to wonder if they'd seen enough street theatre for one day.

'Ben, Max, help Joan to clear the table, would you please,' I asked them. Neither child moved. 'Ben! Max!' The two of them sat defiantly, d.a.m.ned if they were going to miss a moment.

'I'll go and talk to him,' Lavinia announced importantly, straightening up from her mother's shoulder and sticking out her navy-blue bosom determinedly. 'I'll go and see him, make him see reason. Tell him he'll be ruining the family name'

'Yes' Rose brightened perceptively. Looked up with a sniff. 'Yes darling, do that. Stress the family name. Good idea.'

'Er, is it?' enquired Jack. 'I mean, d'you think you're the right person, Lavinia? Only, with all due respect, you and Hector have never exactly seen eye to eye, have you?' He cleared his throat nervously. 'I mean, you've never exactly . .

'Got on,' finished Rose. She nodded firmly. 'No, quite right, Jack.' She turned to her daughter. 'He's right, Lavinia. Hector's always had a thing about you.'

'Has he?' She looked astonished.

'Yes darling, can't bear you'

'Oh!' Lavinia looked startled.

I stared at my plate. G.o.d, this family. It was all coming out now, wasn't it?

'Well come on darling, you know how he calls you Lavvy the Lush. No Jack, you're absolutely right, she's not the right person to go. You go. He'll listen to you. And Lucy,' she turned to me, raising her chin empirically, 'you go with him.'

'Me?'

'Yes, Hector's always liked you too. Some drivel about kind eyes. Both of you go, and talk to him my darlings, please! Make him see reason!' She wrung her hanky a bit here, made her famous face, lots of blinking, neck muscles taut. More tears threatened. Jack glanced at me, shrugged. I swallowed nervously.

'You know, Rose, I can't help thinking this may not be the best course of action.'

'Oh?' Her chin shot out defiantly in my direction. 'Why so?'

'I just wonder if the timing's right. I mean, perhaps the thing to do would be to leave well alone for the moment, and let the affair run its course. Let Hector have the time of his life, don't interfere at all, and then perhaps it'll fizzle out naturally, when he realises it's a non-starter. I'm sure he will realise that, and I suspect Rozanna will too, but I really don't advise poking our noses in at this stage, when he's six daysinto his lovers' tryst and when - well, G.o.d, when it's all so new to him! I mean, crikey, it's the first time it's happened to dear old Hec, he's bound to be intoxicated, think This Is It. I reckon we should leave well alone'

'Hear, hear,' agreed Jack.

'No!' Rose got to her feet, eyes blazing. 'No, I insist! Lucy, after all I've done for you - for both of you!' She swept Jack into her icy glare. 'I insist you go and talk to him. I know Hector, I know that boy of mine, and I'll tell you something, given half a chance he'll get hitched on some Jamaican beach, barefoot with flowers in his hair, with this - this two-bit wh.o.r.e,' she screeched, 'standing beside him in blasted broderie anglaise! They'll have piccaninny bridesmaids and some darky minister marrying them and - 000oooh!' at this truly terrifying scenario she really did pale. She caught her breath, sat down abruptly, and then suddenly slumped forward. Went head first into her Caesar salad, rattling the plate with her forehead.

There was a horrified silence.

'Is she dead?' Ben whispered.

'No no, darling,' Lavinia rallied and swooped to lift her mother's head, wiping lettuce off her cheek, 'No, not dead. Pills, Pinkie, quick!' she snapped. 'Come on, quickly, in her pocket! No - cardigan pocket you fool'

Pinkie hastily found them and wrestled with the lid. 'Pills?' I breathed, on my feet now.

Tor angina. Very mild, but she gets it occasionally. Help me, Pinkie'

We watched as the two sisters helped their mother sit up at the table, simultaneously popping pills in her mouth and chucking water down her throat, getting most of it down her cardigan.

'Slap her - quick, slap her!' commanded Lavinia. Pinkie hesitated. 'Why don't you?'

'Because I'm holding her, you fool!'

Pinkie licked her lips nervously - then smartly obeyed. 'Ouch!' Rose's eyes popped open. She glared fiercely at Pinkie.

'Right, now, swallow!' commanded Lavinia.

Her mother seemed to know the ropes and gulped obediently at the gla.s.s of water held at her mouth. We watched, rapt.

'Better?' barked Lavinia.

'Much, darling. Thank you,' Rose muttered bleakly. Some colour did indeed appear to be returning to her cheeks, but then it could have been Pinkie's handiwork.

'Come on then,' ordered Lavinia, 'upstairs for a little rest. Up to beddy-byes for a bit of shut-eye. It's all been much too much for you, hasn't it, hmmm?' Adopting a tone normally reserved for the mentally subnormal, she hauled her mother to her feet. 'Upsa-daisy !' Jack got to his feet too but Lavinia shook her head firmly. 'No Jack, we're fine. Quite used to this. We'll manage. Quite normal. I'll tell you what you could do though. Get hold of David, ask him to pop over.'

'Right.' Jack got to his feet and made to go in, to ring David Mortimer, Archie's oldest friend and the family doctor.

'Yes, get David,' Rose muttered as she was manoeuvred off by her minders. Suddenly her head swung around like a machine gun. 'And you'll go?' She gazed at us both. 'To see Hector?' I glanced at Jack, his foot inside the French windows.'Yes, we'll go,' agreed Jack.

'Tomorrow?' she pleaded. 'Please say you'll go tomorrow, Jack?'

'We'll go tomorrow,' he soothed.

She inclined her head graciously. Gave him a shaky smile. Even blew a little kiss, before being led away.

When they were out of earshot, I stood up.

'Oh terrific. Marvellous. Tomorrow, eh? Because you were too weak to say no. We will not go tomorrow, Jack, she is not running my life to that extent. We'll think about it, and go when we choose! Next week, perhaps, or even the week after, but only when the time is right. Only when I've spoken to Rozanna, warned her that we might be bowling up on her doorstop, and for her to be prepared. G.o.d, why should we tear up the motorway ruining Hector and Rozanna's fun the second it starts. Oooh, this family. Drives me insane! Come on, boys'

'Right, fme' Jack held up his hands. 'Christ, I don't want to b.l.o.o.d.y well do it either, I just want to get it over with!'

'And you were too wet to say no to her,' I snapped. 'This is what happens when one's beholden to people' I eyed him beadily.

'I am not beholden to her.'

'You live in her house, just as we do. The difference is, though, that I refuse to feel pressurised because of it. I refuse to feel indebted!'

'You're quite right,' he said evenly, 'I do live in her house, temporarily, but the real difference is that in six weeks' time I shall be out of here, out of her jurisdiction, so I feel no pressure. What I do feel though, intrinsically and emotionally.

is obviously slightly different to you, Lucy. You see I really rather like Hector, ridiculously naive as he is, and I'd like to help him. I'd like to make sure a wedge isn't driven between him and his family. Now it may be that he doesn't need my help, but I'd like to try. He is, after all, my cousin, and Rose is my aunt, and your mother-in-law, who actually, I feel rather sorry for, right now. You see, whatever you might think of this family, Lucy, however much you deride them, we seem to be affiliated to them. I don't actually regard myself as the sycophantic recipient of their charity, but the fact that you clearly do, and it bothers you, is your problem. Let me know when you do feel the time is right, Lucy. No pressure.'

He put his hands in his pockets and walked calmly into the house through the French windows. I stared at his departing back, fists clenched at my sides.

'Ooooh . b.l.o.o.d.y man!' I seethed after him, hoping he could hear. I unballed my fist and stuck it out to Max. 'Come on. We're going home.'

'What, is everyone just having salad for lunch then?' 'Yes, just salad!' I snapped.

And with that we set off down the terrace steps and stomped down through the rose garden.

'Why are you so cross?' panted Ben, trotting to catch up with me.

'Because he thinks he's effing well right all the time, that's why!'

Max and Ben looked at each other in delight. 'Stre-ssy,' murmured Ben.

Yes, stressy, and furious too, or, correction, infuriated actually. Princ.i.p.ally because, I slowed down a bit here, I had anasty feeling he might effmg well be right, d.a.m.n him. I watched the boys run on. He'd shamed me back there, with his talk of duty and family, and he'd also been right about Rose. There had been something terribly vulnerable about her which had moved me too, albeit momentarily. Something awfully touching about the way she was so desperate for everything to be all right. Sophia was off the marital agenda, but - so what! Rozanna must surely be lovely. She'd been determined to like her, until of course the beans had been spilled, and then - well who in G.o.d's name would want their son to marry a call girl? How delighted would I be if Ben or Max pitched up with one on the doorstep?

Which brought me to Rozanna. What the h.e.l.l was she up to? I wondered. What planet was she on? Clearly something had happened when she'd stayed the night at Netherby - not only acquiring the most sumptuous room, but Hector, the mysterious corridor creeper, with it - and obviously a little benevolence had gone on on her part as she'd treated him to a heavenly time, but, Christ, she wouldn't be marrying him! The whole thing was a nonsense! A figment of Hector's imagination. There was no need to go all the way up to London, for heaven's sake. No, no, I'd just give her a ring. Find out what the devil was going on. I strode determinedly up the path to the barn, ready to give her a piece of my mind.

As I flung open the front door with a flourish, a chaotic scene met my eyes. The fish had obviously been gutted by the boys on the kitchen floor in a bowl of water, and the toad jar had been kicked over. There were b.l.o.o.d.y knives and pools of rank water everywhere, and the place stank to high heaven. Oh terrific. Thanks, Jack.

'Aaaarrgh! b.l.o.o.d.y man!' I yelled, picking up the fish by its tail and flinging it squeamishly into the sink. 'Clean this place up now, boys. I am not amused. And I am not a skivvy!'

'I've lost my toad,' moaned Max, looking desperately about. 'I was going to call him Nigel.'

'Never mind bleeding Nigel, I just want-'

'Oh, there he is!' cried Ben as we saw him hop under the dresser. The pair of them skidded through the b.l.o.o.d.y water in hot pursuit.

'I said never mind the wretched Christ! Now you've knocked the bowl of water over!' At that moment of complete pandemonium, the telephone rang. I s.n.a.t.c.hed it up with irritable emphasis.

'What!' I shrieked furiously.

'Oh! Um, Lucy?' It was Charlie.

My heart leapt right out of my mouth. All around the room, in fact. Probably hand in hand with the toad.

'Charlie.'

'Gosh, Lucy. Didn't sound like you.'

'No! No, no sorry, it wouldn't. I was . . I put a hand to my forehead. Shut my eyes. 'Oh, well never mind. How are you?' Suddenly I felt all the anger and the tension of the last couple of hours seep out of me. It drained clean away, right through the rugs, through the polished wooden floor, right down to the earth, the rubble and the substructure below.