Джеффри Арчер - The Prodigal Daughter

Miss Tredgold pursed her lips and began to despair when one morning at breakfast Florentyna was downright rude when asked what she had planned to do for the weekend.

‘I’ll let you know if it concerns you, she said without looking up from Vogue . Mrs. Rosnovski showed no sign of noticing, so Miss Tredgold maintained a stony silence, judging that sooner or later the child was bound to discover that pride goeth before a fall.

It came sooner.

‘There’s no reason for you to be that confident,’ said Edward.

‘Why? Who’s going to beat me? I’ve been on the Council for nearly a year and everyone else on it is graduating,’ said Florentyna, lounging back in one of the horsehair chairs reserved for members of the Student Council.

Edward remained standing. ‘Yes, I realize that, but not everyone likes you.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘A lot of people think that since you’ve been on the Council, you’ve become a bit too big for your boots.’

‘I hope you’re not among them, Edward.’

‘No, I’m not. But I am worried that if you don’t bother to mix a little more with the students in the lower grades, you might be beaten.’

‘Don’t be silly. Why should I bother to get to know them when they already know me?’ she asked, fiddling with some papers on the armrest of her chair.

‘What’s come over you, Florentyna? You didn’t act like this a year ago,’ said Edward, looking down.

‘If you don’t like the way I carry out my duties, go and support someone else.’

‘It has nothing to do with the way you carry out your duties — everyone acknowledges you’ve been the best secretary anyone can remember — but different qualities are needed for president.’

‘Thank you for the advice, Edward, but you will discover that I can survive without it.’

‘Then you won’t want me to help you this year?’

‘Edward, you still haven’t got the message. It’s not a case of not wanting you but simply not needing you.’

‘I wish you luck, Florentyna, and I only hope I’m proved wrong.’

‘I don’t need your luck either. Some things in this life depend on ability.’

Florentyna did not repeat this conversation to Miss Tredgold.

At the end of the academic year, Florentyna was surprised to find that she had finished first in only Latin and French and overall had fallen to third in the class. Miss Tredgold read her report card carefully and it confirmed her worst fears, but she concluded there was no point in making any adverse comment to the child as she had stopped taking anyone’s advice unless it confirmed her own opinions. Once again, Florentyna spent the summer vacation in New York with her father, who allowed her to work as an assistant in one of the hotel shops.

Florentyna rose early each morning and dressed in the pastel green uniform of a junior member of the hotel staff. She threw all her energy into learning how the little fashion shop was run and was soon putting forward new ideas to Miss Parker, the manager, who was impressed — and not just because she was the Baron’s daughter. As the days passed, Florentyna gained more confidence and, conscious of the power of her privileged position, she stopped wearing the shop uniform and even started to order some of the junior sales staff around. She was, however, sufficiently cautious never to do this in front of Miss Parker.

One Friday, when Miss Parker was in her office checking the morning petty cash, Jessie Kovats, a junior sales assistant, arrived ten minutes late. Florentyna was standing at the door waiting for her.

‘You’re late again,’ said Florentyna, but Jessie didn’t bother to reply.

‘Did you hear me, Miss Kovats?’ demanded Florentyna.

‘Sure did,’ said Jessie, hanging up her raincoat.

‘Then what is your excuse this time?’

‘For you, I don’t have to have an excuse.’

‘We’ll see about that,’ said Florentyna, starting off toward Miss Parker’s office.

‘Don’t bother yourself, bossy boots. I’ve had enough of you in any case,’ said Jessie, who walked into Miss Parker’s office and closed the door behind her. Florentyna pretended to be tidying the counter while she waited for Jessie to return. A few minutes later the young assistant came out of the office, put her coat back on and left the shop without another word. Florentyna felt pleased with the result of her admonition. A few minutes later Miss Parker came out of her office.

‘Jessie tells me she’s leaving the shop because of you.’

‘Miss Kovats is hardly a great loss,’ volunteered Florentyna. ‘She didn’t exactly pull her weight.’

‘That is not the point, Florentyna. I have to continue to run this shop after you return to school.’

‘Perhaps by then we shall have weeded out the Jessie Kovatses of this world who shouldn’t, after all, be wasting my father’s time and money.’

‘Miss Rosnovski, this is a team. Not everyone can be clever and bright, or even hard-working, but within their limited abilities they do the best they can, and there have been no complaints in the past.’

‘Could that possibly be because my father is too busy to keep a watchful eye on you, Miss Parker?’

Miss Parker visibly flushed and steadied herself on the counter. ‘I think the time has come for you to work in another of your father’s shops. I have served him for nearly twenty years and he has never once spoken to me in such a discourteous way.’

‘Perhaps the time has come for you to work in another shop,’ said Florentyna, ‘and preferably not my father’s.’ Walking out of the front door, she made straight for the hotel’s private elevator and pressed the button marked ‘42.’ On arrival, Florentyna informed her father’s secretary that she needed to speak to him immediately.

‘He’s chairing a board meeting at the moment, Miss Rosnovski.’

‘Then interrupt him and tell him that I wish to see him.’

The secretary hesitated, then buzzed through to Mr. Rosnovski.

‘I thought I told you not to disturb me, Miss Deneroff.’

‘I apologize, sir, but your daughter is here and insists on seeing you.’

There was a pause. ‘All right, send her in.’

‘I am sorry, Papa, but this is something that can’t wait,’ Florentyna said as she entered the room, feeling suddenly less sure of herself as the eight men around the boardroom table rose. Abel guided her through to his own office.

‘Well, what is it that can’t wait, my darling?’

‘It’s Miss Parker. She’s stuffy, incompetent and stupid,’ said Florentyna, and she poured out to her father her version of what had happened that morning with Jessie Kovats.

Abel’s fingers never stopped tapping on his desktop as he listened to her tale. When she came to the end he flicked a switch on his intercom. ‘Please ask Miss Parker in the fashion shop to come up immediately.’

‘Thank you, Papa.’

‘Florentyna, would you be kind enough to wait next door while I deal with Miss Parker.’

‘Of course, Papa.’

A few minutes later, Miss Parker appeared, still looking flushed. Abel asked her what had happened. She gave an accurate account of the altercation, confining her view of Florentyna to the fact that she was a competent assistant but she had been the sole reason that Miss Kovats, a long-serving member of her staff, had left. And others, Miss Parker pointed out, might resign too if Florentyna persisted with her attitude. Abel listened, barely controlling his anger. He gave Miss Parker his opinion and told her that later that day she would receive a letter by hand confirming his decision.

‘If that is what you wish, sir,’ said Miss Parker, and left.