“Is he your only rival?” she asked.

“As far as I know, yes.”

“When will you hear the decision?”

Jasper looked at his watch, although he knew the time. “The committee is meeting now. They’ll put up a notice outside Lord Jane’s office when they break for lunch at twelve thirty. My friend Pete Donegan is there. He’ll be my deputy editor. He’s going to phone me immediately.”

“Why do you want the post so badly?”

Because I know how bloody good I am, Jasper thought; twice as good as Cakebread and ten times better than Toby Jenkins. I deserve this job. But he did not open his heart to Daisy Williams. He was a little wary of her. She loved his mother, not him. When the interview with Evie had appeared in the Echo, and Jasper had pretended to be dismayed, it had seemed to him that Daisy had not been completely deceived. He worried that she saw through him. However, she always treated him kindly, for his mother’s sake.

Now he gave her a softened version of the truth. “I can turn St. Julian’s News into a better paper. Right now it’s like a parish magazine. It tells you what’s going on, but it’s frightened of conflict and controversy.” He thought of something that would appeal to Daisy’s ideals. “For example, St. Julian’s College has a board of governors, some of whom have investments in apartheid South Africa. I’d publish that information and ask what such men are doing governing a famous liberal college.”

“Good idea,” Daisy said with relish. “That’ll stir them up.”

Walli Franck came into the kitchen. It was midday, but he had evidently just got up: he kept rock-and-roll hours.

Daisy said to him: “Now that Dave’s back in school, what are you going to do?”

Walli put instant coffee into a cup. “Practise the guitar,” he said.

Daisy smiled. “If your mother were here, I guess she would ask if you shouldn’t try to earn some money.”

“I don’t want to earn money. But I must. That’s why I have a job.”

Walli’s grammar was sometimes so correct that it was hard to understand. Daisy said: “You don’t want money, but you do have a job?”

“Washing beer glasses at the Jump Club.”

“Well done!”

The doorbell rang, and a minute later a maid showed Hank Remington into the kitchen. He had classic Irish charm. He was a chirpy redhead with a big smile for everyone. “Hello, Mrs. Williams,” he said. “I’ve come to take your daughter out to lunch—unless you’re available!”

Women enjoyed Hank’s flattery. “Hello, Hank,” Daisy said warmly. She turned to the maid and said: “Make sure Evie knows Mr. Remington is here.”

“Is it Mr. Remington, now?” said Hank. “Don’t give people the idea that I’m respectable—it could ruin my reputation.” He shook hands with Jasper. “Evie showed me your article about Martin Luther King—that was great, well done.” Then he turned to Walli. “Hi, I’m Hank Remington.”

Walli was awestruck, but managed to introduce himself. “I’m Dave’s cousin, and I play guitar in Plum Nellie.”