This Was a Man Read online

  He took her hand as they walked along the hall and into the kitchen, just as Giles appeared on the landing.

  “Do sit down, Freddie,” said Karin, pouring some milk into a saucepan. Giles joined them. “How did you get here?” she added, casually.

  “I took the train down from Edinburgh, but I hadn’t realized how late it was by the time I arrived in London. I’ve been sitting on your doorstep for over an hour,” he explained. “I didn’t want to wake you, but it was getting rather cold.”

  “Did you tell your headmaster or Lord Fenwick that you were coming to see us?” asked Giles, as Karin opened a tin of biscuits.

  “No. I sneaked out of chapel during prayers,” he confessed. Karin placed a mug of hot chocolate and a plate of shortbread biscuits on the table in front of their unexpected guest.

  “Did you let anyone know, even a friend, that you planned to visit us?”

  “I don’t have many friends,” admitted Freddie, sipping his chocolate. He looked up at Giles and added, “Please don’t tell me I have to go back.” Giles couldn’t think of a suitable reply.

  “Let’s worry about that in the morning,” said Karin. “Drink up, and then I’ll take you to the guest bedroom so you can get some sleep.”

  “Thank you, Lady Barrington,” said Freddie. He finished off his hot chocolate. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to cause you any trouble.”

  “You haven’t,” said Karin. “But now let’s get you off to bed.” She took his hand once again and led him out of the room.

  “Goodnight, Lord Barrington,” said a far more cheerful voice.

  Giles switched on the kettle and took a teapot down from the shelf above him. While he waited for the kettle to boil, he picked up the phone, dialed directory inquiries and asked for the number of Freddie’s prep school in Scotland. Once he’d made a note of it, he checked to make sure he had Archie Fenwick’s home number in his phone book. He decided that seven a.m. would be a sensible hour to contact them both. The kettle began to whistle just as Karin reappeared.

  “He fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow, poor fellow.”

  Giles poured her a cup of tea. “You were so calm and reassuring. Frankly I wasn’t quite sure what to say or do.”

  “How could you be?” said Karin. “You’ve never experienced someone knocking on your door in the middle of the night.”

  * * *

  When the Baroness Clifton of Chew Magna rose to deliver her maiden speech in the House of Lords, the packed chamber fell silent. She looked up at the Distinguished Strangers’ Gallery to see Harry, Sebastian, Samantha, and Grace smiling down at her—but not Jessica. Emma wondered where she was. She turned her attention to the opposition front bench, where the shadow leader of the House sat, arms crossed. He winked.

  “My lords,” she began, her voice trembling. “You must be surprised to see this newly minted minister standing at the dispatch box addressing you. But I can assure you, no one was more surprised than me.”

  Laughter broke out on both sides of the House, which helped Emma to relax.

  “Lord Harvey of Gloucester sat on these benches some fifty years ago, and Lord Barrington of Bristol Docklands sits on the other side of the House as the opposition leader. You see before you their inadequate granddaughter and sister.

  “The prime minister has allowed me this opportunity to continue my work in the health service, not this time as a member of the board of a great hospital, its deputy chairman, or even chairman, but as one of the government’s undersecretaries of state. And I want members of this House to be in no doubt that I intend to carry out my duties as a minister with the same scrutiny and rigor that I have tried to bring to every position I have held, in both public office and private life.

  “The National Health Service, my lords, is at a crossroads, although I know exactly in which direction I want it to go. In me, you will find a devoted champion of the surgeon, the doctor, the nurse, and, most important of all, the patient. And as I look around this chamber, I can see one or two of you who might well be in need of the NHS in the not-too-distant future.”

  Emma had considered the line added by her brother a little risky, but Giles had assured her that their lordships, unlike Queen Victoria, would be amused. He was right. They roared with laughter as she smiled across the dispatch box at the leader of the opposition.

  “And to that end, my lords, I shall continue to fight overweening bureaucracy, the fear of innovation, and overpaid and overrated special advisors who have never wielded a scalpel or emptied a bedpan.”

  The House roared its approval.

  “But just as important,” said Emma, lowering her voice, “I will never forget the sage words of my grandfather, Lord Harvey, when as a young child I had the temerity to ask him, ‘What’s the point of the House of Lords?’ ‘To serve,’ he replied, ‘and keep those knaves in the Commons in check.’”

  This statement brought cheers from both sides of the House.

  “So let me assure your lordships,” Emma concluded, “that will always be my mantra whenever I take a decision on behalf of the government I serve. And finally, may I thank the House for its kindness and indulgence toward a woman who is painfully aware that she is not worthy to stand at the same dispatch box as her grandfather or brother.”

  Emma sat down to prolonged cheers and the waving of order papers, and those members who had wondered why this woman had been plucked out of obscurity were no longer in any doubt that Margaret Thatcher had made the right decision. Once the House had settled, Lord Barrington rose from his place on the opposition front bench and looked benignly across at his sister before he began his unscripted speech. Emma wondered when she would be able to do that, if ever.

  “My lords, if I display a fraternal pride today, I can only hope the House will be indulgent. When the minister and I squabbled as children, I always won, but that was only because I was bigger and stronger. However, it was our mother who pointed out that once we both grew up, I would discover that I had won the battle, but not the argument.”

  The opposition laughed while those seated on the government benches cried, “Hear, hear!”

  “But allow me to warn my noble kinswoman,” continued Giles, sounding serious for the first time, “that her moment of triumph may be short-lived, because when the time comes for the government to present its new health bill, she should not expect to enjoy the same indulgence from this side of the House. We will scrutinize the bill line by line, clause for clause, and I do not have to remind the noble baroness that it was the Labour Party under Clement Attlee who founded the National Health Service, not this jumped-up bunch of bandwagon Tories, who are temporarily sitting on the government benches.”

  The opposition cheered their leader.

  “So I am happy to congratulate my noble kinswoman on a remarkable maiden speech, but advise her to savor the moment, because when she next returns to the dispatch box, this side of the House will be sitting in wait for her, and let me assure the noble baroness that she will no longer be able to rely on any fraternal assistance. On that occasion she will have to win both the battle and the argument.”

  The opposition benches looked as if they couldn’t wait for the confrontation.

  Emma smiled, and wondered how many people in the chamber would believe how much of her speech had been worked on by the same noble lord who was now jabbing an index finger at her. He had even listened to it being delivered in his kitchen in Smith Square the previous night. She only wished their mother could have been seated in the public gallery to watch them squabbling again.

  * * *

  Mr. Sutcliffe, the headmaster of Grangemouth School, was grateful that Lady Barrington had accompanied Freddie back to Scotland, and once the boy had reluctantly returned to his house, asked if he might have a private word with her. Karin readily agreed, as she’d promised Giles she would try to find out the reason Freddie had run away.

  Once they had settled down in his study, the headmaster didn’t waste