She was standing outside Papa’s study at five minutes to ten, but didn’t knock on the door until she heard the clock in the hall strike the hour. She was painfully aware that her father expected one to be neither early nor late. When she did knock, she was rewarded with the command, “Come!” She opened the door and walked into a room she only ever entered when she was in trouble. Virginia remained standing on the other side of the desk waiting to be invited to sit. She wasn’t. She still didn’t speak. Children should be seen and not heard, was one of her father’s favorite maxims, which may have been the reason they were almost strangers.
While Virginia waited for him to open the conversation, she took a closer look at the old man who was seated behind his desk, attempting to light a briar pipe. He’d aged considerably since she’d last seen him. The lines on his face were more deeply etched. But despite being well into his seventies, his gray hair was still thick, and his finely clipped moustache served to remind everyone he was of a past generation. The earl’s smoking jacket was the lovat green of his highland clan, and he considered it a virtue that he rarely ventured beyond the borders. He’d been educated at Loretto School in Edinburgh before graduating to St. Andrews. The golf club, not the university. At general elections, he supported the Conservative Party, not out of conviction, but because he considered the Tories the lesser of several evils. However, as his Member of Parliament had been Sir Alec Douglas-Home, he wasn’t without influence. He visited the House of Lords on rare occasions, and then only when a vote was required on a piece of legislation that affected his livelihood.
Once he’d lit his pipe and taken a few exaggerated puffs, he reluctantly turned his attention to his only daughter, whom he considered to be one of his few failures in life. The earl blamed his late wife for indulging the child during her formative years. The countess had favored the carrot rather than the stick, so that by the age of eighteen, the only carats Virginia knew were to be found at Cartier and not the local greengrocers.
“Let me begin by asking you, Virginia,” said the earl between puffs, “if you have finally settled all the legal bills that arose from your reckless libel action?”
“Yes, I have, Papa. But I had to sell all my shares in Barrington’s in order to do so.”
“No more than poetic justice,” commented the earl, before taking another puff on his ancient pipe. “You should never have allowed the case to get to court after Sir Edward advised you that your chances were no better than fifty-fifty.”
“But it was in the bag until Fisher wrote that unfortunate letter.”
“Another example of your lack of judgment,” spat out the earl. “Fisher was always going to be a liability, and you should never have become involved with him.”
“But he was a major in the army.”
“A rank you reach only after the war office has decided it’s time for you to retire.”
“And a Member of Parliament.”
“Who rate above only second-hand car salesmen and cattle thieves for reliability.” Virginia opted for silence in a battle she knew she couldn’t win. “Please assure me, Virginia, that you haven’t thrown your hand in with any more ne’er-do-wells.”
She thought about Desmond Mellor, Adrian Sloane and Jim Knowles, to whom she knew her father wouldn’t have given house room. “No, Papa, I’ve learned my lesson, and won’t be causing you any more trouble.”
“I’m glad to hear it.”
“But I must admit that it’s quite difficult to live in London on only two thousand pounds a month.”
“Then come back and live in Kinross, where one can exist quite comfortably on two thousand a year.”
Virginia knew only too well that was the last thing her father would want, so she decided to take a risk. “I was rather hoping, Papa, you might see your way to raising my allowance to three thousand a month.”
“You needn’t give that a second thought,” came back the immediate reply. “In fact, after your most recent shenanigans, I was thinking of cutting your allowance in half.”
“But if you did that, Papa, how could I hope to survive?” She wondered if this was the moment to burst into tears.
“You could behave like the rest of us and learn to live within your means.”
“But my friends rather expect—”
“Then you’ve got the wrong friends. Perhaps the time has come for you to join the real world.”
“What are you suggesting, Papa?”
“You could start by dismissing your butler and housekeeper, who are in my opinion an unnecessary expense, and then move into a smaller flat.” Virginia looked shocked. “And you could even go out and look for a job.” Virginia burst into tears. “Although that, come to think of it, would be pointless, as you’re not qualified to do anything apart from spending other people’s money.”
“But, Papa,” Virginia said, dabbing away a tear, “another thousand a month would solve all my problems.”
“But not mine,” said the earl. “So you can begin your new regime by taking a bus to the station and traveling back to London—second class.”
*