As she imagined the scene, Emma’s eyes twinkled. ‘And what did you say?’

Laughter bubbled in Paula. ‘I was a bit naughty, really. I couldn’t resist saying, “My grandmother is the chairman of the board of the Yorkshire Consolidated Newspaper Company and your boss.” Jim almost fell out of the chair. He stared at me dumbfounded and then he remarked about us both having a widow’s peak, and said that you must have looked like me when you were young. I know you don’t think we resemble each other physically, but I do. I’ve seen all those old photographs of you, and the likeness is there, Grandy.’

‘Your Uncle Blackie would agree with you, but I’m not so sure. Perhaps because I have always thought you take after your grandfather in appearance. Anyway, what happened after you had dinner together?’

‘I went on seeing Jim, against my better judgement. We couldn’t resist each other. When I realized how involved we were becoming, how serious Jim’s intentions were, I pulled away. You know the rest.’

Emma looked down at her hands, a thoughtful expression on her face. ‘So it was a chance meeting. A meeting that would have happened whether Jim worked for me or not. I suppose not even I can control events. It was meant to be, perhaps.’

‘I think it was, Grandy. Jim is my destiny and I am his.’

Emma started and gave Paula a curious look. ‘It’s strange you should say that. Your grandfather told me I was his destiny fifty years ago.’

There was a knock on the door before Paula could respond, and Edwina walked in peremptorily, carrying a glass of scotch. ‘You wanted to see me, Mother,’ she said coldly, and gave Paula a curt, unsmiling nod.

‘I did indeed, Edwina. I see you already have a drink, so come and sit down. Please excuse us, Paula dear. Tell Jim I’ll see him shortly.’

‘Yes, Grandy,’ Paula murmured, and left.

Edwina, Dowager Countess of Dunvale, swept majestically into the parlour and seated herself opposite Emma, her antipathy thinly veiled. She stared at her mother, waiting expectantly, and there was a belligerent look on her face.

Emma regarded Edwina with quickening interest. She thought: If Adele Fairley had lived to be Edwina’s age this is exactly how she would have looked. Edwina was sixty-two and she had not worn as well as her mother. Her exquisite blonde beauty had been too delicate to weather the years, and her looks had faded long ago. Her hair was still a shimmering silver-gold, but its colour now came from a bottle, and the once-lovely argent eyes were dimmed and heavily lidded.

‘That’s a lovely gown, Edwina,’ Emma said, and took a sip of her sherry, peering at her eldest daughter above the glass.

‘Why did you want to see me, Mother?’ Edwina responded with icy disdain. ‘I’m quite certain you didn’t ask me to come up here to compliment me on my dress.’

‘That’s perfectly true,’ Emma said. She smiled faintly. Edwina had not softened with age. ‘Let me ask you a question before I answer yours. Why did you accept my invitation to come here for the weekend?’

‘Invitation!’ Edwina exclaimed, her eyes filling with hostility. ‘It was a command, as usual, Mother. And none of us ever ignores your commands, do we? I was ambivalent about coming. But you said you wanted to see Anthony, too, and when I told him, he insisted we make the trip.’ Edwina threw Emma a baleful glance. ‘My son adores you. Neither his mother’s wishes nor wild horses could have kept him away from this little gathering. He was also worried about your health. And so, since I love my son and wish to please him, I acquiesced. If it had not been for Anthony I would not have come, let me assure you of that.’

Emma sighed audibly. ‘When your Uncle Winston effected a reconciliation between us in 1951, I hoped we could become friends. But it’s always been an armed truce, hasn’t it?’

‘Yes, Mother. And if you want to know the truth, it was Jeremy who persuaded me to see you again. My husband always did have great family feelings. He felt we should make peace.’

‘Such as it is,’ Emma retorted. ‘But let us not bicker. I wanted to see you alone because I have something important to tell you. I wish to speak to you about your father.’

Edwina’s face stiffened. ‘I can’t imagine what you could possibly have to say about him,’ she snapped, deep colour flooding her face. ‘He’s sitting downstairs at this very moment, behaving like the grand seigneur. Frankly, I don’t know how you could be so thoughtless as to have him here in my presence, or in the presence of my son, who is, after all, a peer of the realm. That intolerable man makes me feel uncomfortable. But then I suspect you enjoy making us all squirm, don’t you, Mother? You are addicted to manipulating people.’

‘You never did know me very well, Edwina,’ Emma sighed. ‘And there is no reason why Blackie O’Neill should make you feel awkward or cause you discomfiture, because he is not your father.’

Edwina’s jaw dropped. She gaped at Emma, but said nothing. Recovering her speech, she cried quickly, ‘But his name is on my birth certificate!’

‘That’s true, but for quite different reasons than you believe. Blackie was my only friend when I was sixteen, alone, almost penniless, and carrying you. He asked me to marry him, out of friendship, I think. I refused. He insisted I name him as your father because he thought the phrase “father unknown” would be yet another stigma for you to bear. He also thought it would protect us to a certain extent, and in a way it did,’ Emma finished, thinking of how it had given her the courage to deny Edwina’s paternity, indeed her existence, to Gerald Fairley.

‘Then who was, or is, my father?’ Edwina demanded.

‘Your father was Edwin Fairley.’

Edwina leaned forward alertly. ‘Do you mean Sir Edwin Fairley? The famous criminal lawyer who died last year? One of the Fairleys from Fairley village?’

‘Yes, I do,’ Emma said quietly.

‘Good God!’ Edwina sat back in stupefaction and took a long swallow of her drink. After a moment she said, ‘Why didn’t you tell me this that day I showed you the copy of my birth certificate?’

‘You didn’t give me an opportunity to explain anything. You fled to Cousin Freda’s, if you remember. Besides, I’m not sure I would have revealed his identity then. I might have, but it’s doubtful. The Fairley family have caused me a great deal of heartache. I did not want you to suffer or to be exposed. I also-’

‘Why now? Why are you suddenly telling me now? What has prompted this unprecedented display of honesty on your part, and at this late date?’

‘Because tonight I am going to announce Paula’s engagement to Jim Fairley, your father’s only grandson. He will be a member of this family, and also you are his only living blood relative. His parents were killed in a plane crash in 1948. I thought he ought to know you are his aunt. I would also like to wipe the slate clean once and for all.’ A reflective look entered Emma’s eyes. ‘I want Paula and Jim to start their marriage in the right way. No skeletons in the cupboard. No ancient secrets to haunt them. But apart from that, I felt I owed it to you to tell you the truth, Edwina. It’s long overdue.’

The understatement of the year, Edwina thought bitterly. Finally, she said slowly, ‘Edwin Fairley was a brilliant barrister and renowned throughout the country, and, perhaps more importantly, he was a gentleman. He had breeding and lineage. I’m not ashamed to acknowledge him as my father. You may tell Jim if you want. In fact, I think I would like you to do so.’

‘Thank you, Edwina.’

Edwina stood up. ‘I wish you had been honest with me years ago, Mother. Things might have been different between us.’

I sincerely doubt that, Emma thought, but said, ‘Perhaps they would.’

Edwina walked to the door without another word and Emma was aware of the gratified look in her daughter’s eyes. She’s such a ridiculous snob, she said to herself. Her illegitimacy doesn’t matter to her anymore, now that she knows her father was gentry. Emma called after her, ‘Please ask Jim to come upstairs.’