Voice of the Heart. Barbara Taylor Bradford

      ‘When we go to the theatre with the old man we always dine afterwards. There’s nothing strange about that.’

      Francesca groaned. ‘Look, I’m very tired. I don’t think I could make the effort tonight. But I’ll compromise, since I would like to meet her. I’ll make something light for you, and have a drink with you when she arrives. Then I’ll disappear to my room. You would enjoy that much better anyway. You can have a lovely romantic supper à deux.’

      ‘It’ll be a romantic supper à trois, I’m afraid,’ Kim responded glumly. ‘She’s bringing some chap with her. That’s another reason I wanted you to join us, to make it a foursome.’

      ‘How can I rustle up dinner for four! I’ve only got enough for one. Me,’ Francesca wailed. ‘And anyway, who’s the spare bod she wants to drag along? Who am I supposed to charm in the early hours of the morning? And why does she have to bring him at all?’

      ‘Because he doesn’t know many people in London, and she’s kind of taken him under her wing.’ Kim gave her a careful look, and then smiled. ‘And when I tell you who he is, I don’t want you to faint. Promise,’ he demanded, his eyes twinkling.

      ‘Oh, don’t be so ridiculous.’ Francesca airily dismissed such a preposterous idea. ‘And why should I faint, for heaven’s sake?’

      ‘Most women would. The spare bod, as you call him, is Victor Mason. And I know that even You know who he is.’

      Francesca was not unduly impressed. ‘Of course I do. The whole world knows him, or rather, of him. I must say, this is a bit of a departure for you, isn’t it, an actress and a film star from – ‘ Francesca stopped abruptly and stared at Kim as another thought occurred to her. ‘You haven’t invited them already, have you?’

      ‘I’m afraid I have.’

      ‘Oh Kim!’ She considered the meagre supplies in the kitchen with dismay.

      Kim put his arms around her and hugged her to him. ‘Hey, come on, you silly goose. Don’t get upset. It’s not that important. I just didn’t stop to think, that’s all. I asked Katharine to dinner tonight because I wanted you to meet her very badly. She suggested inviting Victor, not only because he’s at a loose end, but to even it out. We both thought you’d like to meet him, and it seemed like a good idea at the time. Now I can see it was a mistake. We’ll do it another evening. Look, I’ll put them off.’

      ‘You can’t do that. It’s so rude, and especially at this hour.’ Francesca pulled away gently, and sat back in her chair. ‘I’m sorry to sound like a spoil-sport, Kim dear. I know I must get on your nerves, always nagging about money. But everything is so, so … well, such a struggle at times. Daddy doesn’t have a clue about anything except Langley. The amount he allocates for running this house is next to nothing. I usually have to use the bit of money from Mummy’s Trust for food and some of the bills, and that’s still not – ‘

      ‘You’re not supposed to do that!’ Kim interjected fiercely. ‘The Trust money is for your personal use. Pin money. And I realize it’s just a pittance. Does the old man know what you’re doing?’

      ‘No, and you mustn’t tell him! He has enough to worry about, what with running the estate and everything. And if he knew he might just close up the house here for economical reasons. Then I’d have to move to Langley with you and Daddy. It’s not that I don’t love you both,’ she went on rapidly, ‘I do. But I don’t want to be buried in the wilds of Yorkshire all year round, and besides, I have to be near the British Museum for my research. Anyway, I don’t mind using my money, really I don’t. I only mentioned it to you so you would understand the situation.’

      ‘I do understand. And as far as the dinner is concerned, well, let’s forget it.’ He shrugged. ‘Maybe I’ll take them to a restaurant. We could go to Le Matelot in Elizabeth Street.’

      ‘Even that would be far too expensive. Let me think a minute.’

      Kim walked over to the sofa and flopped down on it, all the gaiety washed off his face. ‘So much for the bloody British aristocracy,’ he said disconsolately. ‘At least the impoverished side of it.’ He ran his hand through his hair, and muttered, ‘It’s a hell of a thing when a chap can’t afford to take a couple of chums to dinner.’ And then his face instantly brightened. ‘Perhaps with a bit of luck Victor Mason will pick up the bill.’

      ‘Kim, that’s positively awful. We may be impoverished, but we’re not spongers. Remember, you invited them.’

      ‘I have the money I was saving for a pair of new riding boots.’ He smiled ruefully. ‘I could blow that.’

      ‘I won’t let you! You know, I could make a rather splendid breakfast. After all, we are going to be eating late. I could prepare omlettes fines herbes, or maybe a kedgeree. How does that sound to you? Do you fancy either?’ Kim pulled a face and Francesca nodded in agreement. ‘You’re right. That’s out then.’

      ‘Do you think Father would object if I nipped out to Fortnum’s and charged a few goodies to his account?’

      ‘He might not, but I certainly would, especially when the bill came in.’ Quite unexpectedly, a broad smile spread across her face and she straightened up in the chair. ‘I’ve just thought of something!’ She jumped up, rushed out of the room and plunged down the staircase at breakneck speed.

      ‘What is it? You sound as if you’ve had a brainstorm,’ Kim called, racing after her. Francesca halted at the bottom of the stairs and turned to look up at him. ‘I have indeed. Follow me, Macbeth, down into the dark, dark dungeons. And thank God for Doris!’ She beckoned histrionically and disappeared. Still mystified, Kim followed her into the cellars underneath the house. He found her in the large pantry next to the wine cellar, rummaging through a wicker hamper.

      ‘What have you got there, Frankie?’

      Francesca went on rummaging. ‘A Fortnum and Mason hamper. You just jogged my memory about it. Doris sent it to us at Christmas. Don’t you remember? There are still a few things left. Father gave it to me to bring back here after the holidays. I also raided the larder at Langley and put in some of Melly’s bottled fruits. I’d forgotten all about it.’

      ‘Good old Doris. She never does anything by halves.’

      ‘Look what I’ve found,’ Francesca cried excitedly, her eyes shining. ‘Caviar! Only a small pot, I’m afraid, but it is Beluga. There’s a tin of pâté de foie gras Strasbourg, a crock of aged Stilton cheese with port, and three tins of turtle soup.’ She examined the label. ‘I say, quite a posh brand too. It’s got sherry in it.’ Francesca flipped down the lid of the hamper and patted it possessively. ‘I’m taking this up to the kitchen. It’s certainly part of the dinner. Why don’t you poke around in the wine cellar. I’m sure there are some bottles of champagne left from your twenty-first, and it would be nice to have it with the caviar.’

      A few minutes later Kim joined her in the kitchen, a smile of triumph on his face, a bottle of champagne in each hand. ‘You were right. Moët & Chandon.’ He displayed them gleefully and then sat down at the table and eyed the items Francesca had removed from the hamper and arranged in front of her. ‘Is there going to be enough, do you think?’ he asked doubtfully.

      ‘It’s a beginning at least. I thought we could have the champagne before supper. I can stretch the caviar with chopped eggs and chopped onions, and lots of Melba toast, and serve the pâté as well. The turtle soup will do very well for starters, and I can make a green salad to go with the Stilton. We can finish with the bottled fruit and cream.’

      ‘And what do we eat after the soup and before the pudding?’ Kim teased. ‘You’ve forgotten the main course. Or is that all you intend to serve?’

      ‘No, of course it isn’t, silly,’ Francesca said with a smile. ‘I have some minced beef in the refrigerator. I was going to make a cottage pie with