Chapters (71)
- Title Page
- Copyright Notice
- Dedication
- Acknowledgments
- Family Tree
- Prologue
- Harry and Emma Clifton: 1970–1971
- Chapter 1
- Chapter 2
- Chapter 3
- Chapter 4
- Chapter 5
- Chapter 6
- Chapter 7
- Giles Barrington: 1971
- Chapter 8
- Chapter 9
- Chapter 10
- Chapter 11
- Lady Virginia Fenwick: 1971
- Chapter 12
- Chapter 13
- Chapter 14
- Sebastian Clifton: 1971
- Chapter 15
- Chapter 16
- Chapter 17
- Chapter 18
- Chapter 19
- Chapter 20
- Chapter 21
- Lady Virginia Fenwick: 1972
- Chapter 22
- Chapter 23
- Chapter 24
- Maisie Clifton: 1972
- Chapter 25
- Emma Clifton: 1972–1975
- Chapter 26
- Chapter 27
- Chapter 28
- Sebastian Clifton: 1975
- Chapter 29
- Chapter 30
- Chapter 31
- Chapter 32
- Hakim Bishara: 1975
- Chapter 33
- Chapter 34
- Chapter 35
- Chapter 36
- Chapter 37
- Chapter 38
- Giles Barrington: 1976–1977
- Chapter 39
- Chapter 40
- Chapter 41
- Chapter 42
- Chapter 43
- Chapter 44
- Chapter 45
- Chapter 46
- Harry and Emma Clifton: 1978
- Chapter 47
- Chapter 48
- Chapter 49
- Chapter 50
- Epilogue: 1978
- About the Author
- Also by Jeffrey Archer
- Newsletter Sign-up
“And is your mother happy to fall in with your plans?”
“I haven’t actually told her yet. But we can sort all that out tonight, can’t we?”
“Dr. Wolfe told me yesterday that you could win a scholarship to the American College of Art.”
“Dr. Wolfe will be just as proud when I’m the first girl from Jefferson to go to the Royal College of Art, though I thought I’d go to the Slade first, just like the other Jessica.”
“Will your mother or I have any say in all of this?”
“Let’s hope not. After all, you two have made such a mess of everything so far.”
Sebastian laughed.
“Can I ask, do I live up to your expectations?” she said, sounding unsure of herself for the first time.
“You’re even more talented and beautiful than I’d imagined. How about me?” asked Seb, grinning.
“Actually I’m a little disappointed,” said Jessica. “I thought you’d be taller and better-looking. More like Sean Connery.”
Seb burst out laughing. “You are the most precocious child I’ve ever met.”
“And you’ll be pleased to hear that Mom agrees with you, except she substitutes the word brat for child, which I’m sure you’ll do once you get to know me better. Now I must be off. I’ve got lots to tell Mom about, and I’m looking forward to wearing a new dress tonight I bought especially for the occasion. Where are we having dinner?”
“The Belvedere, seven thirty.”
Jessica threw her arms around him and burst into tears.
“What’s the matter?” he asked.
“Nothing. Just be sure you’re on time for a change.”
“Don’t worry, I will be.”
“You’d better be,” said Jessica, and quickly left him.
* * *
Mr Arnold Hardcastle QC sat opposite Hakim Bishara in a small private room at HMP Wandsworth.
“I’m going to say something, Hakim, that I’ve never said to a client before. Even though it’s a lawyer’s duty to present the best defense possible for his client whether he believes them to be guilty or innocent, I want you to know that I am in no doubt, reasonable or otherwise, that you have been set up. However, I must warn you that because of the government’s new guidelines on Class A drugs, the judge will have no choice but to refuse an application for bail.”
“And how long will it be before my case comes to trial?”
“Four months, six at most. Be assured, I’ll do everything I can to speed it up.”
“During which time I’ll be holed up in here, while the bank could go bust.”
“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”