‘Why, what’s happened?’ asked her son, although, from his conversation with Lunn, he could guess.
‘We’ve had a stormy interview with Mattie which has left us rattled and uneasy.’
‘Uneasy? Why?’
‘No time to tell you now. Come along. The sherry is waiting and so is she.’
‘So you have not quite forsaken me, Fiona,’ said Romula, as the guests entered the room.
‘I was invited to come and it is churlish to refuse invitations unless one has good reason.’
‘Are you happy where you are?’
‘Not as happy as I was here and I miss you and Maria very much.’
‘I am glad to hear it. So you will come back, will you?’
‘I would rather be kept by you than by Rupert.’
‘So that is how matters have turned out!’
‘The destitute have little choice as to where their daily bread comes from. They are lucky that it comes at all.’
‘It is most unsuitable that Rupert should make himself responsible for your maintenance. What does Diana think of it?’
‘I have not canvassed her opinion. She may be rejoicing to see me sink so low.’
‘Mother,’ said Maria, ‘we are ready to drink your health.’
‘Some of you may have cause to do so, others not,’ said Romula. ‘You had better leave it until later.’
‘I don’t much like the sound of that,’ muttered Garnet to his sister.
Bluebell murmured in response, ‘We are out of it, anyway. She will never forgive us for taking Fiona into our home.’
‘Fiona had to be taken in by somebody. In any case, I think you may be wrong. By the look of them, I think mother has forgiven Fiona for her show of independence. She may even respect her for it. In that case, commendation rather than blame may be our lot.’
‘I wouldn’t put any money on it if I were you.’
The dinner places were arranged somewhat differently this time. Gamaliel, preening himself as usual, was accorded the place opposite Romula at the far end of the table.
‘Now I am chief man,’ he said.
‘Or the lowest of the low,’ said Bluebell.
‘It is better than to be mediocre. Besides, I get the best view of my dear old lady from here.’
‘Wouldn’t you rather be seated next to her as you were before?’ asked Diana.
‘No, because next to her I have to eat prettily and not make a noise with my soup. Down here I can enjoy my food in my own way.’
‘Pigs don’t have wings,’ said Diana nastily. ‘So you won’t fly.’
‘Oh, no, neither do cows jump over the moon,’ retorted Gamaliel, making his forefingers into two little horns and grinning ferociously at her.
Garnet, from his seat on Romula’s right, said: ‘That will do, Greg. Spoon up your soup and pipe down.’
‘Is Greg a way of shortening his name?’ asked Maria. ‘It sounds better than Gammy, I must say.’
‘It is not a shortening,’ said Gamaliel. ‘It is the name I shall use later on when I fight.’
‘I did not know that you proposed to join the Army.’
‘Not the Army or the Navy or the Air Force. My fighting will be done in the boxing ring.’
‘The first I’ve heard of it,’ said Bluebell. ‘Is that really your plan for the future?’
‘Oh, yes, I am to be world champion at my weight. I hope it will be heavyweight. People think more of a heavyweight than any other.’
‘You are a very silly boy,’ said Romula, smiling at him.
‘We have our own plans for you,’ said Parsifal.
Gamaliel scooped up the remainder of his soup and laid down his spoon. ‘Then you must forget them, these plans,’ he said.
‘And what about my plans for you?’ said Romula.
‘Old ladies cannot make plans for young men.’
‘You will find that you are mistaken.’
‘No,’ said Gamaliel. ‘You planned that I should come here and live with you, but it did not come off, did it? You have my affection, dear old lady. You cannot have my body as well. That is mine to train and use as I wish. When I am world champion you will be proud of me and you will buy me a dressing-gown of purple and gold with big letters on it to say Ubi, just that, Ubi. I will give you a ringside seat next to all the gentlemen in evening dress smoking their big cigars and betting their big money on me in the title fight. You will see my name next day in all the newspapers. You will be proud to know me.’
‘That is a long speech,’ said Romula, ‘from an embryo prize-fighter. Except that you talk like a child of ten, you might live to regret it if it makes me alter my plans.’
When dinner was over with no more contributions from Gamaliel, Romula patted the drawing-room sofa as an invitation to Fiona to sit with her. ‘Well,’ she said, ‘this time I intend to disclose what I have in mind.’
‘I want to come back to you, madre.’
‘To me, or to Maria?’
‘I miss you both.’
Gamaliel, who had left the men in the dining-room with their glasses of port, came over and seated himself on the floor at Romula’s feet. She gave him a push in the back with her knee and said: ‘Go away, boy. I am talking to Fiona.’
‘Don’t you love me, dear old lady?’
‘I do not love your dinner table monologues.’
‘Come over here, Gamaliel,’ said Bluebell. ‘When the others come in, you are not to join in what is said. Is that understood? You have spoken too much out of turn already.’
‘Where is Ruby?’ asked Gamaliel, seating himself obediently beside Bluebell.
‘At her studies. It might have been better had we left you at home to continue yours.’
‘Oh, we have no papers tomorrow and I have not passed in those we have already sat.’
‘You do not know that yet.’
‘My form master said so. He goes over the papers with us and is certain I cannot pass. I shall be leaving at the end of term.’
‘That is for me to decide.’
The men came in.
Romula said to her daughter, ‘Take this key and unlock the bureau in my bedroom. Bring me the long envelope with the blue markings. Settle down, all of you. You shall know something of what I intend.’
‘Is Gamaliel to remain, mother?’
‘Certainly. What I have to say may give him food for thought.’
‘The power of your purse is not as great as you think,’ said Gamaliel. Maria went out of the room and returned shortly with a large envelope scored across with blue to indicate that it had come by registered post.
‘This is a copy of my last Will and testament,’ said Romula, taking it from her daughter’s hand.
‘Is it the custom to disclose the contents of a Will before the testator is dead?’ asked Parsifal.
‘In my stories,’ said Garnet, ‘such a disclosure leads to the crime of murder. The plot of—’
‘Never mind your books, grandson,’ said Romula. ‘It is getting late and most of you have to get home. As for disclosing the contents of my Will, I have better reasons for doing so now than I had at our last family gathering. You were all disappointed then; some of you may be disappointed now. Our young protégé—’ she looked across the room at Gamaliel— ‘has referred to the power of the purse. I intend to use it for the good of you all, himself included.’ She unfolded the crackling document which she had taken out of its envelope. ‘I have called this my last Will, and so it is—up to the present. Fortunately I still have my health and strength and the ability to alter or cancel any of the provisions herein at no more than a moment’s notice.’ She looked round at the circle of faces. Most of them remained impassive. Parsifal looked anxious, Diana bored.
Romula looked down at the Will and smoothed out the creases in the parchment. Apart from the sound this made, there was silence in the room. It was broken by the opening of the door and the parlourmaid’s voice.
‘Miss Ruby is here, madam, and asks whether she is to join the party.’