Barbara Taylor Bradford - Just Rewards

Immediately, Linnet had agreed to stay on at Pennistone Royal to help her mother. They were close and always had been, and whenever she could ease Paula’s burdens Linnet tried to do so.

Earlier in the week, Linnet had considered talking to her mother about making certain changes at the store in Knightsbridge, but now she realized this was hardly the right time for such an important and delicate discussion. That must wait until after Evan’s marriage to Gideon next Saturday, only a week away.

The wedding was distracting her mother as much as it was Aunt Emily, mother of the groom. So how could she start bringing up old-fashioned windows that needed a fresh approach to suit the changing times? Or explain the importance of having a spa or suggest the innovative idea of devoting an entire floor to brides and weddings?

Surely her words would fall on deaf ears? Or if they didn’t, they would certainly irritate her mother no end. Paula seemed set in her ways these days, much to Linnet’s chagrin, and change appalled her.

Put it on hold, she muttered to herself, and continued on her way, heading closer to the walk. This had been created by her mother over thirty-five years ago or more, and she had designed it for Emma Harte. The Rhododendron Walk at Temple Newsam, a stately home near Leeds, had been the inspiration, and Paula had copied it down to the last detail, inveterate gardener that she was.

In the summer months it was quite extraordinary to behold, the glossy leaves of the rhododendron bushes alive with colour from the giant flowers … white, lilac and pale pink giving way to tints of dark-rose and purple. The flowery bower was breathtaking at that particular time of the year; now, in winter, the glossy green leaves were speckled with frozen snowflakes and tiny icicles.

At one moment, Linnet stopped and glanced up at the sky. It was forbidding, curdled and cold. The wind was beginning to blow the steel-grey clouds away and quite suddenly a pale sun was visible, a pale-silver orb against the expanse of blue floating above. She was used to the sudden changes in the weather in Yorkshire, especially in the Dales where she had grown up. Rain was prevalent throughout the year; but apparently, it wasn’t going to be a wet gloomy day after all, and this pleased Linnet.

Striding out, humming to herself, she began to enjoy her walk. But at the same time her busy mind was focusing once again on the Hughes family.

She was well aware that Uncle Robin would be upset and disappointed if Owen and his family didn’t stay with him. Robin Ainsley had discovered a new lease on life through the advent of Evan Hughes and her father Owen, his long lost son by Glynnis Hughes. Certainly he looked better than he had for several years.

On the other hand, the Hughes family presented problems all of a sudden, primarily because Jonathan Ainsley was in Yorkshire. There was no doubt in anyone’s mind that he resented the very idea of a half-brother in the shape of Owen Hughes. As Jack Figg had said, there was no telling what a loose cannon might do.

Jack Figg believed that Ainsley was dangerous, and she had to believe Jack, pay attention to him because he had rarely if ever been wrong, especially when it came to their security, the security of their homes and the stores.

Perhaps her mother would talk to Uncle Robin, instil some sense into him, make him understand his new-found family might possibly be at risk with Jonathan floating around. Yet Robin Ainsley was a stubborn man, and full of confidence about his own judgement. He had been a Member of Parliament for years, and he was a lawyer as well, although never practising. Still, he was an intelligent man, in fact a brilliant man, as his career in government attested. Would he listen to his great-niece, daughter of his half-sister Daisy, to whom he was close these days?

No , wait a minute, Linnet instructed herself. Unexpectedly, it had just struck her that the best person to tackle Robin was his other half-sister, Edwina. They had been especially close throughout their long lives, shared many secrets and problems. ‘Hand in glove,’ was the way her mother had described them recently, pointing out to Linnet that it was obviously Edwina who had helped to facilitate Robin’s long, ongoing affair with Glynnis.

That’s it, Linnet told herself, and immediately came to a snap decision. She would telephone Great-Aunt Edwina the minute she got home, and explain the situation in detail. Paula might be head of the family, but Edwina was the eldest of them all at ninety-five. Furthermore, she still had all her marbles, as Linnet was well aware. Even more importantly, she had immense clout with Robin. To her he would listen, and he would accept her advice, Linnet was convinced.

Glancing at her watch, she realized that Great-Aunt Edwina wouldn’t be at Niddersley House now. When she had spoken to India at the Leeds store yesterday, her cousin had told her she was taking Edwina for lunch at Dusty’s house.

At this moment, India would be driving her grandmother to Willows Hall near Harrogate.

Drat , Linnet muttered to herself, and pressed on along the Rhododendron Walk, formulating a plan as she strode out. She would phone Willows Hall after lunch and talk to Edwina then. And she had no doubt that Great-Aunt Edwina would be delighted to jump into the fray. She had always had the demeanour of a British general commanding his troops, and loved to boss everyone around, especially her siblings.

Julian Kallinski stood at the window of the bedroom at Pennistone Royal which he shared with Linnet, looking out across the lawns.

They were covered in hoar frost on this icy Saturday, and the dark, skeletal branches of the trees were dripping long icicles which looked like miniature stalactites. The whole scene resembled a painting in grisaille, the black and white tints strikingly beautiful against the backdrop of the pale sky.

In the distance he could see Linnet coming down the Rhododendron Walk, returning home, bundled up in her favourite cape. It was bright red and she was hard to miss even from this distance.

A smile struck his mouth and his eyes brightened at the sight of his wife. Wife , he thought, she’s my wife.

He suddenly wondered what he would have done if Linnet hadn’t come to her senses, if she hadn’t ended their silly estrangement.

No, not their estrangement. Hers , actually, from him.

He had never felt estranged from her, only puzzled by her strange behaviour, and achingly vulnerable to her.

After several months of their being apart he had forced the issue, forced her to see him by taking charge of the situation, and not taking no for an answer.

Fortunately, he had chosen the right moment, and she had come back to him willingly, lovingly. And during her emotional and physical capitulation to him, in the searing heat of their mutual passion, she had told him she loved him and only him, and she had finally agreed to become his wife at last.

But what if he hadn’t become assertive because of his frustration, annoyance and anger? None of that might have happened. What if none of those words had ever been said? By him and by her. What would he have done ultimately? How could he have continued his life without her by his side?

It would have been difficult, most certainly, even trying, because their families were so intertwined. He and she might break up, but they would be constantly thrown together.

The three clans of Hartes, O’Neills and Kallinskis had been part of each other’s daily lives for well over a century, since the day Emma Harte, Blackie O’Neill and David Kallinski had met and become best friends in the early years of the twentieth century in Leeds. And they had remained friends until their deaths.