Only yesterday she heard from the sports editor that Mr Tredizzick had had two heart attacks but he refused to give up smoking or take exercise. His fingers are permanently stained to a light cinnamon colour, and his skin is deeply furrowed by smoking and poor ventilation. She’s not sure why smoking creases the skin like linen, but it does. It seems that in his world it’s a matter of pride to be untidy, unhealthy and unillusioned. Not for the first time, she wonders if it’s wise for this scruffy old man and this dying newspaper to take on the City of London.

Chapter 23

Chapter 23

Fleur doesn’t really know what’s going on: she’s not privy to the family’s closest dealings and fears and plans. She gets news of them, but edited, sometimes by Amanda.

Amanda came to see her again two days ago. She was wearing ridiculous black culottes that reached just below her knees.

‘Fleur, we think it would be a good idea if we settled your first husband’s claim that Sir Harry agreed to pay him from the Coppélia Charitable Trust. I have discovered that it was twenty-five K a year. Can you talk to Mr MacCleod and arrange it? Not the details, I’ll do that, but the general principle, that although you weren’t really involved you think it’s only right that he should receive what was promised him. Can you manage that?’

‘I am not sure. I really don’t know any of the details.’

‘No, you don’t. That’s a plus. But it would be helpful going forward to have this settled now. As I said a moment ago, I will handle the paperwork.’

Amanda looked at her coldly for a moment, as if she was trying to recall if she had ever come across anyone this dim before. She quickly cocked her head into an unnaturally reasonable pose, the sort of pose people who don’t really like children assume as they listen to a child’s ramblings.

‘Fleur, let me just say that it would be very helpful to the family and to you – you’re part of it, of course – if you would speak to Artair. We really don’t want him to talk to the press or claim that he has been robbed.’

‘Amanda, sorry, but I can’t do it. How’s it going to look?’

‘All right. I’ll speak to Julian. He was particularly keen to get this out of the way when he got back from the States. At the end of the day it’s up to him.’

Amanda stood up, leaving her coffee. And later Julian rang.