Barbara Taylor Bradford - Barbara Taylor Bradford’s 4-Book Collection

Against her better judgment, Francesca now felt obliged to ask: ‘Would you care for a drink, Estelle? I thought I might have a glass of white wine, but there’s plenty to choose from, if you’d prefer something else.’ She waved her hand in the direction of the console table in the far corner. This held a large array of bottles, decanters and crystal glasses.

‘Oooh! What a lovely idea, my dear. I’ll have white wine too, please.’

Francesca nodded, retrieved the tea tray and escaped to the kitchen. Within minutes she was back, carrying a silver bucket containing a bottle of white wine. She took this over to the console, poured two glasses and rejoined Estelle. She felt as thought she was on the verge of screaming.

‘ Santé ,’ Estelle said. ‘I do appreciate good wines. After all my trotting back and forth to France I guess I’m spoiled. What is this? It’s delicious.’

‘Pouilly Fuissé,’ Francesca replied with a thin smile, marvelling at her considerable patience, But it was dwindling fast.

In the kitchen Francesca had finally resolved to seize control of the situation and bring the interview to its conclusion as rapidly and as diplomatically as possible. Adopting a businesslike tone, she plunged in: ‘I must talk to you about the charity, Estelle. It’s getting late and I have a dinner engagement. I’m sure your time is precious too.’

‘But I have more questions about –’

‘Please, Estelle, let’s be fair,’ Francesca interrupted firmly. ‘I have given you two hours already. I only agreed to this interview because I felt your story would be beneficial to a good cause, and help us with the concert, and this was made quite clear to you at the time. Normally I don’t give interviews of this type. I loathe personal publicity.’

Estelle had her glass halfway to her mouth. She put it down and gaped at Francesca. ‘Don’t like publicity! You’re always in the columns.’

‘I can’t help it if I’m constantly being mentioned in the newspapers. It’s none of my doing, I can assure you of that. But don’t let’s digress.’ Francesca glanced pointedly at her watch. ‘I’ll have to bring our visit to a close very shortly, I’m afraid.’

‘Oh sure, that’s all right,’ Estelle responded affably. ‘Please go ahead, Francesca dear. I’d just love to hear about your charity.’

Relieved that she had turned the discussion around to her advantage, Francesca launched into all the salient details of the elaborate star-studded concert she and the committee were planning. She spoke quickly, but articulately, for about fifteen minutes. Finally she concluded, ‘That’s about it. What can I add, but to say again that it is for a truly worthy cause, and naturally we’d appreciate any mention you can give.’

‘There’s no problem. I’ll give the charity a nice fat plug, right up front in the story.’ Estelle cleared her throat and added quickly, ‘I’d like to have a photographer come up next week and take a few candids of you, whenever it’s convenient. Can you give me a date and time, please?’

‘Oh dear!’ Francesca stopped, and began to finger her pearls. ‘I hadn’t realized you’d want to take special photographs,’ she said with a degree of hesitance. ‘Would next Wednesday at two o’clock be suitable? It’s really the only time I have free.’ She was not especially enamoured of this new development, but she knew herself to be trapped.

‘That’s fine. I’ll book our very best photographer.’ Estelle leaned forward and snapped off the tape recorder.

Sitting back in the chair, Francesca permitted herself to relax. She felt exhausted and longed to be alone, but it seemed that Estelle was determined to finish her drink, and at her own leisure.

‘I have something to tell you,’ Estelle began, lifting her glass and regarding Francesca closely over the rim. There was a small pause before she said, ‘Katharine’s coming back to New York.’

Francesca sat up swiftly and threw her an astonished glance, frowning. ‘Katharine?’ she echoed.

‘Yes. Katharine Tempest. The one and only Katharine,’ Estelle smiled. ‘Don’t tell me you didn’t know who I meant!’

‘Naturally I knew. I was a little surprised, that’s all. Actually, I’d lost track of her. Why are you telling me anyway? It’s of no interest to me.’

‘Katharine wants to see you.’

Francesca tensed. She felt her face stiffening and her eyes, opening very widely, brimmed with shock. She did not believe Estelle, but as she studied the other woman’s face in silence she knew from her gloating expression that it was indeed true. She was momentarily speechless. She managed to say, ‘Whatever for? Why would she want to see me?’

‘I can’t imagine,’ Estelle replied sardonically. ‘But she wanted me to request a meeting. Lunch, dinner, tea, drinks, whichever you prefer. Just give me a date. She’ll be arriving in about a week or ten days, and she expects me to have arranged it by then. When can you see her?’

Anger was fulminating in Francesca. And she, who was never rude, said with unusual vehemence, her voice rising, ‘I cannot see her! I will not see her! I think you have –’

‘I know you two became drawn enemies,’ Estelle exclaimed peremptorily. ‘That’s why I can’t understand Katharine. She’s being very foolish, in my opinion. I don’t –’

‘I was about to say, when you interrupted me, that I think you have behaved in the most despicable manner!’ Francesca cried. ‘How dare you wangle your way into my home, on the pretext of doing an interview, when it’s patently obvious the real reason you’re here is to carry messages for Katharine Tempest.’ Francesca’s anger now spiralled into cold fury. ‘How devious and underhanded of you! You’re a disgrace to your profession. But then I suppose I shouldn’t have expected better behaviour from you, Estelle. You always were her lackey. I think you had better leave.’

Estelle did not budge. She was enjoying Francesca’s discomfort. She gave her a slow derisive smile, and triumph flicked into the small brown eyes. ‘My, my, I never thought I’d see the day when you would display so much emotion.’

Dismay had lodged like a stone in the pit of Francesca’s stomach, but she took firm control of herself. Recovering some of her self-possession, she said, in a steadier voice, ‘You may tell Katharine Tempest I have no wish to see her. Ever again. I have nothing to say to her.’

‘It’s no skin off my nose either way, and although I don’t understand Katharine’s motives, I did agree to help.’ Estelle crossed her legs and lolled back in the chair, regarding Francesca with quizzical eyes. She shook her head wonderingly. ‘I’m surprised at you, Francesca. Why don’t you give a little, for once in your life, and get down off your pedestal. Let bygones be bygones. We’re all a bit older and more mature. I think Katharine expected you, of all people, to be more understanding.’

‘More understanding!’ Francesca gasped. ‘After what she did to me! You must be as demented as she apparently is. I absolutely refuse to continue this ridiculous discussion. I would appreciate it if you would leave my house. I think you have not only outstayed your welcome, but abused my hospitality.’

Estelle lifted her shoulders in a gesture of resignation, picked up the tape recorder and dropped it into her handbag. She could not resist a final attempt at effecting a reconciliation. ‘She only wants to be friends again. With everyone. That’s why she asked me to contact all of you. Come on, be generous, change your mind.’

‘I will not. Never . The others can do as they wish, but I will not see her.’ Francesca’s face had paled and her eyes blazed. ‘I don’t want anything to do with her. There’s nothing to be gained by a … a … reunion.’ Francesca drew a quick intake of breath. ‘And I’m surprised at you , Estelle. Why do you permit her to use you in this way?’