LITMIR.BIZ

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      ‘You’re right. But listen, did you know that the Romney Marsh is as famous for its smugglers as the Cornish coast?’

      ‘I did.’ Now turning slightly to the right, Ned continued, ‘Let’s go and sit on that wall for a moment or two. I need to talk to you about something.’

      Will nodded his assent. Bundling their scarves and coats around themselves, the two men sat down, staring out towards the encroaching sea. All of a sudden it had grown truly dark; the stars glittered, and far off, in the distance, the Dungeness lighthouse flashed, its wide beams bouncing off the water onto the land and back onto the water.

      Knowing that Edward Deravenel would speak in his own time, and only when he was ready, Will waited, wondering what this was about.

      At last Ned said, ‘What of Oxford, Will? You haven’t gone back there to continue your studies. You’re long overdue.’

      ‘Oh, but I’m not going back.’

      ‘Not ever?’ Ned’s surprise was evident in his tone of voice.

      ‘That’s correct. I went up to Oxford, saw everyone, bade my farewells, after I had explained my reasons for not finishing my education.’

      ‘And your father? Isn’t he angry?’ Ned probed curiously.

      ‘He was, but only momentarily. You know, the old man gave up on me a long time ago, and I suppose he knew it was futile to argue with me because my mind was made up.’

      ‘Did you go to Leicestershire to see him?’

      Will shook his head. ‘It just so happened my father was in town on business last week, and we dined at his club. He was annoyed at first, and it was a bit of a sticky wicket for me, but in the end he came around to my way of thinking. He agreed I could lead my life as I wanted, and he actually wished me well. He was a brick really, Ned, since he hasn’t withdrawn my monthly allowance.’

      ‘That was generous of him,’ Ned murmured. Frowning, he then asked, ‘But, Will, what are your plans? Do you still wish to join a firm in the City?’

      ‘No, I don’t…’ Will’s voice trailed off, and he sat quietly for a moment or two, then continued, ‘I would like to work alongside you, Ned, if that would be at all possible.’

      Startled, Edward turned to stare at his friend. ‘At Deravenels? Is that what you mean?’

      Will nodded.

      ‘I don’t have a job myself, not yet at any rate. So I can’t very well give you one, old chap.’

      ‘The day will come when you can. I’m prepared to wait,’ Will responded. ‘If I know you and Neville Watkins as well as I think I do, I won’t have to wait very long.’

      ‘You sound positive about our success,’ Ned muttered.

      ‘I don’t doubt it for one moment.’

      Ned now said, ‘I have to present myself there next week, and, frankly, I quite dread it. I know the top brass will simply greet me, give me an office and let me rot, doing nothing, twiddling my thumbs. That’s their modus operandi. But I have other ideas, and, for one thing, I’m certainly going to demand my father’s office. I’m not going to let them stick me in a poky little room in the back.’

      ‘That’s the spirit!’ Will exclaimed. ‘You must have your father’s old office. Start the way you mean to go on, that’s my advice.’

      ‘I most certainly will do that.’

      ‘Is it agreed then?’ Will asked. ‘About me working with you?’

      ‘If you wish to work at Deravenels it would certainly please me, but I can’t tell you exactly when that would be.’

      ‘As I said, I’ll wait.’

      ‘Why?’ Ned asked a short while later, as they started walking up the path, going back to the farmhouse. ‘Why are you so keen on Deravenels?’

      ‘Because I believe I can be of use to you, and because I want to be with you, Ned, working with you. Now, to change the subject, what are you going to do about Lily?’

      ‘Why nothing,’ Ned answered swiftly, pausing, turning to Will, staring at him in the moonlight. ‘I’m going to walk back into the farmhouse and be as cordial and nice as I possibly can be. After all, there’s no point in flogging a dead horse, is there? Anyway, knowing Vicky, she probably put Lily straight, wouldn’t you say?’

      ‘I would indeed,’ Will answered, pleased that Ned had decided to be his old charming self. His charm had somehow disappeared of late. Perhaps things would become normal again. He felt a ripple of worry then, wondering why he would think things were going to be normal. They weren’t. Not at all. Their world was about to go mad.

       THIRTEEN

       London

      Neville Watkins was about to meet three men, each one of them very different. As he walked back and forth along the back portico of his Chelsea house he thought about them. He was well aware that each would bring something unique to the meeting; what they said, and what was ultimately agreed upon, would change many lives, some for the worse, others for the better.

      As Neville turned and headed back along the paving stones a door suddenly flew open and a child stepped out. It was his small daughter Anne, and as soon as she saw him she ran towards him, her little feet flying down the walkway. She was waving and crying out, ‘Papa! Papa! Here I am!’

      Laughing, he hurried forward, caught her in his arms and swung her up, held her close to his chest. ‘Hello, my little sweetheart,’ he said against her glossy light brown hair. ‘You should be wearing a coat, you know, my pet. You’ll catch a chill in this cold weather.’

      ‘But the sun is shining, Papa,’ she answered, staring into his eyes.

      ‘It’s still February, Anne.’

      ‘The flowers are coming out,’ she countered, pointing to the snowdrops and purple and yellow crocuses peeping up out of the dark earth of the borders set around the lawn. ‘Spring flowers Mama says.’

      ‘They are indeed. However, we must go inside, where it’s warmer. And you and I, well, we shall see each other later.’

      ‘Mama says Ned is coming. Will he bring Richard with him?’

      ‘I don’t think so, sweetheart, not this morning. We are having a business meeting.’

      ‘Today is Saturday, Papa,’ she said, sounding reproachful.

      He grinned at her. ‘I know,’ he answered, and suddenly recognized the disappointment in her eyes. Her face had changed, become sad, he thought.

      ‘You like your cousin, don’t you?’

      She nodded.

      By this time Neville had reached the door, and putting her down he ushered her into the house, stepped inside after her. Before they had even moved across the central gallery he heard his wife’s footsteps on the polished wood floor. He always recognized them: only she in the household walked with such determination. Slap, slap, slap, her feet went, coming down hard on the wood, and a moment later she was entering the gallery. ‘Ah, there you are my little one,’ Anne Watkins exclaimed when she spotted her namesake. ‘I’ve been looking all over for you.’

      ‘She came out in search of me,’ Neville remarked, walking across the gallery to his wife, putting his hand on her shoulder affectionately. ‘She was really looking

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