Being Elizabeth. Barbara Taylor Bradford

usual good taste and punctilliousness. The chapel was filled with flowers, Mary’s favourite priest was brought from London, and the priest and John Norfell accompanied the coffin. Afterwards there was a catered lunch at the house. I did my duty and played the part, kept a solemn demeanour and said all of the right things to everyone with a quiet dignity. At least, Cecil told me I had been dignified and appropriate. Once everyone left, Cecil and I loaded his car with luggage and drove to London together.

      And here I am on Saturday morning, back in my own apartment in Eaton Square, waiting for my darling Kat, who’s due to arrive at any moment. I can’t wait to see her … it’s been several months since we last met.

      ‘Let me look at you, darling girl,’ Kat said, staring up into Elizabeth’s face. ‘I must say, you look none the worse for being all those weeks in the frozen north. I’d even go so far as to say you seem to be in blooming health. If a little pale.’

      Elizabeth began to laugh, hugging her former governess, the woman who had brought her up. Finally releasing her, she said, ‘Kat, I’m never anything but pale, and you should know that since you’re the one who never let me out in the sun or the wind.’

      ‘That’s just it, it’s usually so very windy at Ravenscar. Frankly, it crossed my mind that you might have a bit of a windburn since you’ve been there for several weeks. And you have had it in the past,’ Kat reminded her.

      ‘When I was a child.’ Taking hold of her arm, leading her across the foyer, Elizabeth continued, ‘You know I listen to everything you say, and I’ve been protecting my skin for years, following your rules.’

      Kat smiled. ‘Yes, I know.’

      The two women went into the living room which Kat had helped Elizabeth decorate several years ago. Spacious and airy, it had a high ceiling, tall windows and a fireplace where a fire burned brightly. It was cheerful and inviting with its daffodil-yellow walls, cream sofas and chairs, as well as a number of good antique pieces which had been borrowed from attics at Ravenscar.

      Elizabeth said, ‘I’ve lots to talk to you about, but first I must go and get the coffee –’

      ‘Let me do that,’ Kat cut in.

      ‘No, no, I’ll bring the tray,’ Elizabeth insisted. ‘Just this once, please allow me to do something for you, Kat. You’ve been looking after me most of my life.’

      ‘All right, thank you.’

      Elizabeth hurried out and Kat strolled over to one of the two windows, staring down at the garden in the middle of Eaton Square. The trees were bare, and there was a sense of bereftness about the garden on this cold Saturday. To her way of thinking, there was nothing quite as sad and dreary as a winter garden full of dead things. One of her joys these days was tending to her gardens; another, even greater, joy in her life was Elizabeth Turner, whom she loved and had brought up as if she were her own child.

      ‘Here I am!’ Elizabeth came back into the living room carrying a large tray which she put down on a low table in front of the fire. ‘Come on, let’s have coffee and catch up, Kat.’

      The two women sat on the sofa in front of the fire chatting about a number of things, and then Elizabeth said, ‘Please fill me in about your visit to Aunt Grace Rose, would you? How is she?’

      ‘Quite incredible,’ Kat answered, smiling, her motherly face lighting up. ‘As usual, it was something of a treat to be with her. You know, it’s hard to believe she’s ninety-six, but she is … she’s exactly the same age as the year. Her mind is very sharp, no sign of senility there, and she looks extraordinary, rather smart and well put together.’

      ‘How amazing she is, still going strong at that age.’

      Kat volunteered, ‘Naturally she’s a bit frail these days, but she told me she’s out and about all the time, going to this lunch, that dinner. If I get to be that old I hope I’m just like her.’

      ‘I know what you mean,’ Elizabeth replied, and then said, ‘I was relieved when you phoned me and said she had no intention of coming to Mary’s funeral. I’d had visions of her insisting she must attend because of … well, family. You know how she puts such store in that.’

      Putting down her coffee cup, and sitting back on the sofa, Kat explained, ‘She confessed that she doesn’t go to funerals any more. Not at her age, she said, because she’ll be attending her own soon enough, without the need of previews. She also went on to say that she only accepts invitations to christenings and weddings, but really prefers christenings because modern marriages don’t seem to last very long, so why bother going in the first place. She had me laughing the whole time I was there.’

      Elizabeth nodded, laughing herself. ‘She hasn’t changed, she’s apparently as forthright as she always was. Does she need anything?’

      ‘If you mean money, no, she’s extremely wealthy. However, she does need one particular thing.’

      Elizabeth leaned forward eagerly. ‘Tell me what it is, and hopefully I can get it for her.’

      ‘You certainly can. She wants to see you. And as soon as possible. She knows how busy you’re going to be, but she asked me to remind you that time is not something she has a lot of, being that she’s ninety-six years old.’

      ‘Why does she want to see me?’

      ‘I think she needs to see you is perhaps a better way of putting it. Why she does I have no idea. She didn’t explain.’

      ‘This coming week is going to be impossible, but I’ll give you some dates for the following week. I’ll have to see her in the evening, though,’ Elizabeth answered. ‘Will you come with me, Kat?’

      ‘I’m afraid I can’t, darling. Grace Rose told me she wishes to see you alone. It seems she has something to tell you, and she says it’s most important.’

      ‘I see. I’ll just have to work something out.’

      ‘What about tomorrow afternoon, Elizabeth? For tea. If she’s free, of course,’ Kat suggested.

      ‘I’ve so much to do tomorrow, I have to sort out my clothes, prepare for the terrible week ahead.’ Elizabeth shook her head, looking worried. ‘I’ve no idea where to begin, especially at Deravenels.’

      Noting her anxiousness, and detecting the genuine worry in her voice, Kat took hold of Elizabeth’s hand, and squeezed it, then said firmly, ‘Everything’s going to be fine. You’re going to run Deravenels very well –’

      ‘Listen to me, Kat,’ Elizabeth interrupted. ‘I value your confidence in me, and thank you for that, but it’s not going to be quite so easy. I mean it when I say I don’t know where to begin. I’ve never run a huge company before, and I haven’t worked at Deravenels for a year, because of Mary’s contentiousness. I’m afraid I’m going to flounder, make a mess of everything.’

      ‘No, you won’t. I know you too well to even consider such a thing. You’re very efficient. You’ve always had great business acumen like your father, and you have down-to-earth values and a lot of practicality. Besides, you’re not running the company alone, now, are you?’

      ‘No, that’s true. I have Cecil Williams, Robin Dunley, and Nicholas Throckman, and Cecil told me yesterday that Francis Walsington has returned from Paris, now that Mary’s dead.’

      ‘All you need are a few good men,’ Kat asserted. ‘And you have them.’

      ‘That’s true.’

      Kat looked off into the distance for a moment or two, and then turning to Elizabeth, she said, ‘You’re going to have far too much to cope with, without worrying about your clothes and other things like that. I have a suggestion –’ She broke off, sat staring intently at the young