Barbara Taylor Bradford - In the Lion’s Den

‘Indeed it was, James,’ Philip replied, and looked down at his left leg encased in plaster of Paris, stretched out and resting on an ottoman. ‘He sent a telegram from Monte Carlo immediately after he received mine. He insisted that you all join us here for our traditional supper. Even told me to choose one of his wines.’

‘Wonderful things, these telegrams,’ Esther observed. ‘I can’t imagine how we ever managed without them. The Honourable Mister also insisted your grandfather rest in here as well, to benefit from some light and warmth. Anyway, James, I’m relieved to see you looking well. Your father told me you are working long hours.’ She gave him a hard stare.

‘Yes, I am, Grans, but I’m in fine fettle at the moment. And Mr Malvern is such a nice man to work for. We’ve been doing some reorganization of the whole company, and he’s appreciated my help. He says he couldn’t have done it without me.’

‘James, whatever happened to Mr Malvern’s daughter? Is she not working alongside her father and you?’ Philip asked.

James shook his head. ‘No, I’m afraid not.’ He looked from his grandfather to his grandmother, and continued in a solemn voice, ‘It’s rather a sad story, really. Miss Alexis doesn’t seem to have recovered from the death of her fiancé. Just a week before they were to be married. She lives in Kent and hardly ever comes to Malvern House.’

Esther frowned, said in a low voice, ‘I seem to remember you talking about her. She was a first-class businesswoman, one of only a few in London.’ Esther paused and shook her head. ‘Isn’t she his only child? Mr Malvern’s heir?’ she asked, puzzlement echoing in her voice.

‘That’s correct, Grans. But she doesn’t seem to be interested in the business. Or anyone. Not even her father. It’s a shame. So sad to see the pain he’s in. He’s heartbroken, in my opinion.’

Esther leaned back, shaking her head again, looking nonplussed.

It was Philip who now spoke up. He glanced at James, a brow lifting quizzically. ‘Is she physically ill in some way?’

‘Not that I know of,’ James answered, his forehead puckering. ‘What are you getting at, Grandfather?’

‘It sounds to me as if Miss Malvern is mentally disturbed. How long has she been acting this way?’

‘It’s over a year since Sebastian Trevalian died.’

There were a few moments of silence. Glances were exchanged. It was Esther who spoke first. ‘It seems to me that she can’t let him go, that she’s hanging onto his memory. Very sad. I’m sure the sudden loss of the man she was about to marry was a shock. It would leave a terrible sorrow. However, to avoid society for so long appears abnormal, in my opinion. The way she is behaving is odd, to say the least.’

‘She went to see a famous doctor in Vienna,’ James volunteered. ‘His name is Doctor Sigmund Freud. Seemingly he examines the mind, not the body.’

Philip suddenly was sitting up straighter and nodding his head vehemently. ‘I’ve read about him! In one of Lady Agatha’s science magazines. He is called a mind doctor. The patient talks to him, and he does an analysis of the things the patient says. I’m not quite sure how he cures the patient, though. But he is becoming famous.’

‘She was treated by him for six months,’ James confided. ‘That is why Mr Malvern offered me a job as his … assistant, I suppose you’d call me. Miss Malvern had gone to Vienna.’

‘I remember it now,’ Esther exclaimed. ‘Your father told me the story.’ Esther looked off into the distance, as if she could see something far away. After a moment or two, she said, ‘So what is going to happen, James? Is she ever coming back?’

‘I’ve no idea. To be honest, I don’t think Mr Malvern knows either.’

‘But what is he going to do without an heir?’ Philip asked.

Esther stared at Philip. ‘Poor man. And whatever will he do with Malvern’s?’

James said quietly, ‘He has spoken to me about selling the company, once we’ve got it back into the best shape we can. We’re working on that.’

‘Do you think he would sell that old family company?’ Philip asked.

James did not answer at first. A moment later, he said slowly, but in a firm tone, ‘Yes, I do think he would, if the price is right.’

Esther was delighted when she opened the door and saw the rest of the Falconer family all together, standing on the step at the back.

‘Come in, come in!’ she exclaimed, pulling the door further ajar, a huge smile spreading across her face.

Once they were in the narrow lobby and the door was shut, there were hugs and kisses and greetings exchanged. She couldn’t help thinking how smart her three sons looked, dressed in their best clothes.

Matthew’s wife, Maude, was elegant in a simple cream linen dress which fell to her ankles, decorated with a black cotton rose on her shoulder.

Her granddaughter, Rossi, was likewise decked out in a summer frock, made of pale-blue crepe de Chine. Rossi’s younger brother, Eddie, wore his one and only best suit.

‘Let’s go and see Dad, shall we?’ Matthew announced, taking charge.

‘Yes, come along,’ Esther answered, smiling at her firstborn child. ‘He’s with James up in the conservatory.’

They clustered around Philip in his chair, fussing about him, making him feel well loved.

It was Eddie who pushed his way to the front, and said, ‘I’ve brought a painting for you, Grandpa.’ He handed him the package, and turned to Esther. ‘And one for you too, Grandma.’

He stood and watched as his grandparents opened their gifts and praised his artistic talent; Matthew and Maude smiled with pride at their younger son.

Rossi had also brought gifts for her grandparents. ‘A scarf for each of you.’ She then explained, ‘Silk summer scarves, because sometimes it does get cool in the evening.’

Esther and Philip gave more thanks and complimented their granddaughter. Then Esther turned to Matthew, Harry and George and said, ‘Would you three come downstairs with me to the kitchen, please? Rossi and Maude can entertain Dad for the moment, and you can chat with him shortly. Will you come as well, James?’

The men nodded and followed Esther out of the room. Once they were in the hall, George asked, ‘Is there a problem, Ma?’ Concern echoed in his voice.

‘No, no,’ Esther answered swiftly. ‘Let’s go downstairs so that I can explain something to the three of you.’

Harry said, ‘I’d love to see the kitchen, Mother. I haven’t been in it for ages. And say hello to Cook.’

Esther led them down the back staircase and, once at the bottom, she turned to the others. ‘Look at these stairs, tell me if you think a man with a cast on his leg can come down and go up easily, even with your help.’

‘I don’t believe he can,’ Harry said immediately, then looked at his brothers. ‘What do you think, George, Matthew?’