Back Cometh the Hour Save as PDF
Chapters (71)
  1. Title Page
  2. Copyright Notice
  3. Dedication
  4. Acknowledgments
  5. Family Tree
  6. Prologue
  7. Harry and Emma Clifton: 1970–1971
  8. Chapter 1
  9. Chapter 2
  10. Chapter 3
  11. Chapter 4
  12. Chapter 5
  13. Chapter 6
  14. Chapter 7
  15. Giles Barrington: 1971
  16. Chapter 8
  17. Chapter 9
  18. Chapter 10
  19. Chapter 11
  20. Lady Virginia Fenwick: 1971
  21. Chapter 12
  22. Chapter 13
  23. Chapter 14
  24. Sebastian Clifton: 1971
  25. Chapter 15
  26. Chapter 16
  27. Chapter 17
  28. Chapter 18
  29. Chapter 19
  30. Chapter 20
  31. Chapter 21
  32. Lady Virginia Fenwick: 1972
  33. Chapter 22
  34. Chapter 23
  35. Chapter 24
  36. Maisie Clifton: 1972
  37. Chapter 25
  38. Emma Clifton: 1972–1975
  39. Chapter 26
  40. Chapter 27
  41. Chapter 28
  42. Sebastian Clifton: 1975
  43. Chapter 29
  44. Chapter 30
  45. Chapter 31
  46. Chapter 32
  47. Hakim Bishara: 1975
  48. Chapter 33
  49. Chapter 34
  50. Chapter 35
  51. Chapter 36
  52. Chapter 37
  53. Chapter 38
  54. Giles Barrington: 1976–1977
  55. Chapter 39
  56. Chapter 40
  57. Chapter 41
  58. Chapter 42
  59. Chapter 43
  60. Chapter 44
  61. Chapter 45
  62. Chapter 46
  63. Harry and Emma Clifton: 1978
  64. Chapter 47
  65. Chapter 48
  66. Chapter 49
  67. Chapter 50
  68. Epilogue: 1978
  69. About the Author
  70. Also by Jeffrey Archer
  71. Newsletter Sign-up

Sebastian arrived at the Royal Opera House a few minutes before seven, surprised by how nervous he felt. But then, as Clive had so helpfully reminded him, it was his first date for some time. He scanned the crowd streaming through the front doors, and then he saw her. Not that he could have missed her. Priya’s long dark hair and deep brown eyes were complemented by a striking red silk dress that made him feel she should be gracing the cover of Vogue rather than hidden away analyzing profits and losses in the deep recesses of a bank. Her face lit up the moment she spotted him.

“Wow,” he said. “You look stunning.”

“Thank you,” Priya replied, as Seb kissed her on the cheek as if she were his aunt Grace.

“I’m sure you’ve been to the House many times before,” she said, “so you’ll be familiar with the routine.”

“No, it’s my first visit,” admitted Seb. “In fact, I’ve never been to the ballet before.”

“Lucky you!”

“What do you mean?” asked Seb as they entered the restaurant on the ground floor.

“You’ll either be hooked for life, or you won’t ever want to come again.”

“Yes, I know what you mean,” said Seb.

Priya stopped at the entrance. “We have a booking in the name of Ghuman.”

“Please follow me, madam,” said the maître d’, who led them to their table and, once they were seated, handed each of them a menu.

“They serve the first course before the curtain goes up, and we have to order the main course at the same time so they can have it ready for us at the interval.”

“Are you always this organized?”

“I’m so sorry,” said Priya. “I was only trying to help.”

“And I was only teasing,” said Seb. “But then, when you’ve got a mother like mine, it goes with the territory.”

“Your mother is a remarkable lady, Seb. I wonder if she knows just how many women look upon her as a role model?”

A waiter appeared at their side, his order pad open.

“I’ll have the asparagus, and Dover sole,” said Priya.

“And I’ll have the duck pâté, and a lamb chop,” said Seb, “and I’d like to order a bottle of wine.”

“I don’t drink,” said Priya.

“I’m sorry. What would you like?”

“Water will be fine, thank you. But don’t let me stop you.”

Seb checked the wine list. “I’ll have a glass of Merlot,” he said.

“As a banker,” said Priya, “you’d approve of how well this place is run. Most of the courses are simple and easy to prepare, so when you return to your table at the end of each act, they can serve you quickly.”

“I can see why you’re an analyst.”