Джеффри Арчер - The Prodigal Daughter

‘This may be the last chance you’ll ever have,’ she said.

Edward held his putter firmly and jabbed at the ball and watched it teeter on the edge of the hole before disappearing into the cup. He threw his club high into the air and cheered.

‘You haven’t won yet,’ said Florentyna, ‘but no doubt it will be the nearest you’ll ever get.’ She steadied herself as she checked the line between ball and hole. If she sank her putt, the match was halved and she was off the hook.

‘Don’t let the helicopters distract you,’ said Edward.

‘The only thing that is distracting me, Edward, is you. Be warned, you will not succeed. Since the rest of my life depends on this shot, you can be assured I shall not make a mistake. In fact,’ she said, taking a step back, ‘I shall wait until the helicopters have passed over.’

Florentyna stared up into the sky and waited for the four helicopters to fly past. Their chopping noise grew louder and louder.

‘Did you have to go to quite such lengths to win, Edward?’ she asked as one of the helicopters began to descend.

‘What the hell is going on?’ said Edward anxiously.

‘I have no idea,’ said Florentyna. ‘But I suspect we are about to find out.’

Her skirt whipped around her legs as the first helicopter landed a few yards off the green of the eighteenth hole. Even as the blades continued to rotate an army colonel leaped out and rushed over to Florentyna. A second officer jumped out and stood by the helicopter, holding a small black briefcase. Florentyna and Edward stared at the colonel as he stood to attention and saluted.

‘Madam President,’ he said. ‘The President is dead.’

Florentyna clenched her hand into a tight fist as the eighteenth hole was surrounded by agents from the Secret Service. She glanced again at the black nuclear command briefcase which was now her sole responsibility, the trigger she hoped she would never have to pull. She was reminded that moment what real responsibility meant.

‘How did it happen?’ she asked calmly.

The colonel continued in clipped tones. ‘The President returned from his morning jog and retired to his room to shower and change for breakfast. It was over twenty minute before any of us felt that something might be wrong so I was sent to check, but it was already too late. The doctor said he must have had a massive coronary. He had had two minor heart attacks during the last year, but on both occasions we managed to keep them out of the press.’

‘How many people know of his death?’

‘Three members of his personal staff, his doctor, Mrs. Parkin and the attorney general, whom I informed immediately. On his instructions, I was detailed to find you and see that the oath of office is administered as quickly as is convenient. I am then to accompany you to the White House, where the attorney general is waiting to announce the details of the President’s death. The attorney general hopes that these arrangements meet with your approval.’

‘Thank you, Colonel. We’d better return to my home immediately.’

Florentyna, accompanied by Edward, the colonel, the officer with the black box and four Secret Service agents, climbed aboard the army aircraft. As the chopper whirled up into the air, Florentyna gazed down at the eighteenth green where her ball, a diminishing white speck, remained four feet from the hole. A few minutes later, the helicopter landed on the grass in front of Florentyna’s Cape Cod house while the other three remained hovering overhead.

Florentyna led them all into the living room, where young Richard was playing with his father and Bishop O’Reilly, who had flown in for a quiet weekend.

‘Why are there helicopters flying over the house, Grandma?’ Richard asked.

Florentyna explained to her grandson what had happened. William and Joanna rose from their chairs, not sure what to say.

‘What do we do next, Colonel?’ asked Florentyna.

‘We’ll need a Bible,’ said the colonel, ‘and the oath of office.’

Florentyna went to her study table in the corner of the room and from the top drawer took out Miss Tredgold’s Bible. A copy of the Presidential oath was not as easy to find. Edward thought it might be in Theodore White’s The Making of the President: 1972 , which he remembered was in the library. He was right.

The colonel phoned the attorney general and checked that the wording was correct. Pierre Levale then spoke to Bishop O’Reilly and explained how he should administer the oath.

In the living room of her Cape Cod home, Florentyna Kane stood beside her family, with Colonel Max Perkins and Edward Winchester acting as witnesses. She took the Bible in her right hand and repeated the words after Bishop O’Reilly.

‘I, Florentyna Kane, do solemnly swear that I will faithfully execute the office of President of the United States and will to the best of my ability preserve, protect and defend the Constitution of the United States.’

Thus Florentyna Kane became the forty-third President of the United States.

William was the first to congratulate his mother and then they all tried to join in at once.

‘I think we should leave for Washington, Madam President,’ the colonel suggested a few minutes later.

‘Of course,’ Florentyna turned to the old family priest. ‘Thank you, Your Excellency,’ she said. But the bishop did not reply; for the first time in his life, the little Irishman was lost for words. ‘I shall need you to perform another ceremony for me in the near future.’

‘And what might that be, my dear?’

‘As soon as we have a free weekend Edward and I are going to be married.’ Edward looked even more surprised and delighted than he had at the moment he heard Florentyna had become President. ‘I remembered a little too late,’ she continued, ‘that if you fail to complete a hole in match-play competition, it is automatically awarded to your opponent.’

Edward took her in his arms as Florentyna said, ‘My darling, I will need your wisdom and your strength, but most of all your love.’

‘You’ve already had them for nearly forty years, V.P. I mean...’

Everyone laughed.

‘I think we should leave now, Madam President,’ the colonel prompted. Florentyna nodded in agreement as the phone rang.

Edward walked over to the desk and picked it up. ‘It’s Ralph Brooks. Says he needs to speak to you urgently.’

‘Would you apologize to the Secretary of State, Edward, and explain I am not available at the moment.’ Edward was about to convey the message when she added, ‘And ask him if he would be kind enough to join me at the White House immediately.’

Edward smiled as the forty-third President of the United States walked toward the door. The colonel accompanying her pressed a switch on his two-way radio and spoke softly into it: ‘Baroness returning to Crown. The contract has been signed.’