"But Christina's made of sterner stuff." Iris lowered her voice and came to the door. "Once Hugo was upstairs in bed, she came down and asked if I'd take the children riding. I got one of my girls to do it. When they'd gone, Christina tracked Belinda down in her sitting room, where she pretends to sew, entry to mere mortals forbidden, and had a stand-up-knock-down with her. It all came out. For the whole house to hear." She eyed me carefully. "And I mean, everything. Including his sexuality. I wouldn't mind betting it had been sanctioned by Hugo."

"Good for her."

“They're going back to London. She's packing now."

I nodded.

"Was Roger devastated?" I asked softly. "When he heard about the business?"

"I don't know. Tommy's gone to find him, I think, to have a chat. But Christina was crystal clear on the water front. She said that yes, he was a grown man, and yes, he should be responsible for any bad decisions, but Belinda's influence had been insidious and devastating. Roger would have heard that."

I nodded. "Good. Do you think he knew all along about Hugo being gay?"

"No. Not that he'd have minded. I mean, eventually.”

“Did you know?"

"Of course," she said in her sphinx-like tones.

Of course. And for the first time, I thought there was something wrong about Christina, Iris, and Etta's loyalty to Hugo: their conspiracy of silence. When, after all, has being an ostrich ever been much of a success? Yes, it was Hugo's secret, but look how much damage keeping it quiet had done. I was pretty sure if I'd known, or Roger, it would have come out. At least, we'd have persuaded Hugo to let it come out. Roger wouldn't have even have bothered to do that, he'd have just fog-horned out the news over lunch one day.

“So you're gay, boy. Well, fine, each to his own. But for goodness sake own it. Be yourself!"

It would be a bit crass, a bit awkward, as Peter would say, sure. But as I often pointed out to my son, there were worse things in life than awkward. And it would have put out Belinda's nasty little fire in one great sloshing bucket. Broken her horrible little threatening, tugging, umbilical cord, alternately cloying, then withdrawing. Yes, there was a lot to be said for Roger's approach to life. And there was surely a lot of danger in well-meaning, non-confrontational silence. Iris would no more have shared that news than reveal her own true self, which only meant a life less lived, as far as I was concerned. I loved Iris: at many times had wished I was more like her, but the fact remained I was firmly in Roger's camp.