Father and daughter coming up the aisle were a lovely sight together. Sir Philip had to wipe a tear from his eye, he was so moved. He would have the fourth dance with the bride, the first ones going to the groom, then to Eric, then to Charles’ father and then it was himself. Sir Philip purred and was already planning to be at the front of the Pram Pushers’ Brigade for his great-grandchild. He had missed for some time the days of playing in the mud, crawling around and stuffing oneself with ice-creams!

  Chapter 40

  By May Emma was expecting. The child was expected in February 1999. Sir Philip, as ever, fussed no end.

  “In his previous life Philip must have been a nanny,” said Lady Saunders, “he is indefatigable with children.”

  “Charles’s parents will have to battle with him firmly. They are ever so keen on a grandchild. Charles’ two brothers are not yet married, but then, they are seven and eleven years his junior. This is the first grandchild.” said Emma.

  Katie knew about Emma’s marriage through the births, deaths and marriages columns in the papers. Emma would now be concentrating on her husband and on her own life instead of that of her father. Once she’d had a child, her father would be on the back burner. That was how life went. To Katie this had no specific significance since she was no longer with Eric, but her sad mood had not lifted with time.

  She remembered how the young Eric had sought solace from the church and that it had helped him. One of Katie’s friends frequented Holy Trinity Brompton and had suggested that Katie go there one Sunday to see what it was like. Why not, in the end? What had she got to lose? So she went. It was a revelation to her. It was warm and friendly. The singing had been beautiful and the sermon had given cause to think. Afterwards she had been asked to stay for coffee and meet a few people. She had done so.

  A new era began for her. She felt at home in the HTB, and within half a year she had been baptised and confirmed. Going there on Sundays lifted her spirits and gave her inner strength. She made some very nice friends and took part in various little trips and activities. The burden she was carrying because of Eric was beginning to lift slowly.

  It was important that her spirits had lifted, for she was going to be faced with another ordeal. It was her mother. The poor woman had started to suffer from dementia already three years ago and now it was rapidly worsening.

  “Katie, I cannot cope with your Mum anymore,” said her Dad, “She is a danger to her own self. I think the time has come for a nursing home.”

  “Yes, Dad. You’ve done wonders so far. I’ll do some searching and find a good one for her. I can afford to pay for it. What about you, where would you like to be?”

  “Katie, I don’t want to move anywhere. I’ve had a good life here and here I want to stay till I’m carried out feet first.”

  The nursing home was arranged and Katie saw how her father took on a new lease of life thanks to having had the burden of a seriously sick wife lifted from him.

  Time was passing. The year 2000 had arrived. At the beginning of January, while Eric was still on his Christmas break in London, Lucius said that he would like the family to get to know Amanda, whom he had met that autumn.

  “Fancy big brother bringing home a woman,” said heavily pregnant Emma, “all I know is that her name is Amanda Prescott. Otherwise Lucius has not breathed a word.”

  “We are all curious,” answered Eric.

  When Lucius arrived with Amanda, it was as if unease had walked in. She was tall and thin, with dark hair in a bob style. Small, grey piercing eyes glowered from behind a long fringe. She had a pretty mouth but it was petulant mouth. Spelt trouble. Not the choice the family had at all expected.

  “How very nice to meet you, Amanda. I am Lucius’ father and here are his grandparents, Sir Philip and Lady Saunders and his sister Emma with her husband Charles.”

  The group settled themselves for drinks.

  The conversation flowed with difficulty. It took Eric all his diplomatic skills to get a general conversation going at all. Sir Philip, most unlike him, was mainly silent. Lady Saunders did her best to cover up for him. It was important that Lucius did not feel anything awkward. Luckily he was so wrapped up with every word and gesture of Amanda’s that he did not notice anything amiss. Eric was charm itself, and Emma, taking her cue from her father, prattled happily about fashions.

  The drinks did not last long. When Lucius and Amanda had departed, the rest of them sighed with relief and looked at each other.

  “What a prissy know-all. Being a lawyer, that woman thinks that we are only some apprentices, but more to the point, that she knows better. What the hell has hit my brother?”

  “She certainly rules over Lucius. It was a bit as if she was teacher and he the pupil. He is like wax in her hands,” said Eric.

  “I can’t think what attracted him to her, Dad. Thin as a rake, fine, but did you see the eyes? If looks could kill, we were toast. She’s got some chip on her shoulder. A big one.”

  “You are probably right, my sweet. There was something odd about her.”

  “She did rather emanate a discontent,” said Lady Saunders, “and I’m pretty sure she did not like any of us.”

  “She was curiously suspicious, for want of a better word, and her guard was up,” said Eric.

  “She’s got some agenda as regards Lucius,” said Sir Philip, “I think she wants to net him. For reasons we don’t yet know. I dislike her intensely.”

  “Loathsome creature.” Emma had bared her teeth.

  “Pray God that this is not serious,” said Lady Saunders.

  “Amen to that,” said the other three in unison.

  Eric was deep in thought over Amanda. She was not what he had expected Lucius to choose. But then, he mused, history was full of most unlikely unions. One never really knew what attracted people together. Lucius deserved a softer type of woman. Eric, who had the ability to read character, had seen that his son’s choice was a hard cookie. A fleeting thought came to him whether Lucius in some way was trying to emulate Eric in the choice of wife. If so, the boy had miscalculated. King Edward the 8th and Wallis Simpson came to his mind. It was a mystery what had attracted the King to this woman, to the extent of abdication. Eric could not understand how any man was capable of giving up a position for the sake of so-called love. It did not make sense to him.

  Here was his son, on his way to matrimony with a difficult woman. However, Lucius obviously saw her from another angle. So, for better or for worse, Amanda would be joining the family group. Whatever the result would be, the best had to be made of it. He himself was a most family-orientated man; he felt that his efforts in life were not only for himself but also for the launching of his children.

  In February Emma gave birth to a healthy baby boy who was named Daniel Philip. Crooning over the baby, Sir Philip said,

  “He’s got your eyes and eyebrows, Steffi.”

  “And your nose, Philip. I think his mouth and chin are from Charles’s mother.”

  “He’ll be a lady killer,” cackled Sir Philip.

  “Grandpa, don’t put him with other women yet. I want to enjoy my precious baby boy for some time. Now pass me my handsome.”

  Charles and his parents were over the moon. This, their first grandchild had been much awaited.

  Eric had been unable to get to London for the birth, a fact that disappointed him, but work dictated his movements. He would see his grandson after Easter, when he returned for a home posting.

  He had had to content himself with a phone call.

  “My sweetheart, so many congratulations. I’m giving little Daniel a big bear hug in my thoughts. Does he look like me?”

  “Daddy, he’s got a lot from you, but the family committee here has pronounced that he mainly takes after Grandma and Charles’s mother.”

  “Is Grandpa fussing?”

  “But of course. That goes without saying.”

  Upon his return after three years, Eric was made an Assistant Under-Secretary. He was pleased. That gave him time before he would, he hoped, get another Ambassadorship. He felt a bit sorry to have missed the great opening of the Oresund Bridge between Denmark and Sweden which would occur in the summer. During his stay in Denmark, nothing earth-shattering had happened there, and now he was ready for something else.

  Come September, there was more family news. Lucius announced his future engagement to Amanda. A grand party was held. The coming bride looked satisfied. She kept glancing at the large diamond ring she was wearing. For the party she wore a severe grey dress with silver jewellery. She did not look like a bundle of fun. But Lucius was happy.

  The following weekend the rest of the family got together.

  “Did you see how smug that cow looked?” seethed Emma.

  “She looked mighty triumphant, she couldn’t hide it,” said Sir Philip.”

  “Now we’ve got the wedding next May,” said Lady Saunders.

  “At least that is organised by her parents,” pointed out Eric.

  “I bet I’ll be asked to design her gown,” Emma was nearly frothing at the mouth, “I know what I’d like to design.”

  “Darling,” said Charles, “go easy on that. Think of Lucius.”

  “Emma dear,” said Eric, “may I suggest that you leave all the suggestions of style for Amanda to decide. Then there will be no come-back on you.”

  “Daddy, you are a fox. And as intelligent as you are handsome.”

  “Lucius also is very handsome, but I don’t think Amanda is marrying him for his looks. The whole thing smells of money,” said Sir Philip with a sombre look.

  “From now on we’ll be stuck with family reunions with that cow,” Emma continued seething.

  “That is so, provided that she is at all keen to keep up relations. A fact which I severely doubt,” said Eric.

  “We must make the best out of it,” said Lady Saunders, who with her common sense had grasped that that was the only way forward.

  For Christmas Amanda arranged for her and Lucius to be with her parents. For New Year they would come to see the rest of the family. And as Emma had predicted, Amanda did ask her to design the wedding gown. She was most conscious that in May 2001 there would be a Mrs Flint!

  Emma had listened to her father well, and when Amanda came to talk about designs, she immediately said,

  “Dear Amanda, I am only the designer, I can but carry out your wishes. Do please explain how you visualize your wedding dress. I can then tackle the practicalities.”

  “How very sensible of you. I have indeed very special notions as to what effect I would like to produce. I consider a marriage an extremely serious step in life, in fact one of the most serious, if not THE most serious. This should be reflected in the gown. I want no flesh to show. I do not want to look like a flibbertigibbet or some hopeful fairy princess. Sober straight lines and a stouter type of fabric, perhaps brocade, sounds suitable.”

  “How very right you are. On top of that, such a style would suit your shape as well.”

  The two women continued their discussion.

  That evening Emma hurtled to talk to Sir Philip and Lady Saunders.

  “Boy, what a creation the cow will be wearing. I hate the fact that I’ve got to design it. It goes against the grain to be associated with anything so awful. However, it will have style. Even if it kills me.”

  “How can a wedding dress possibly be awful?” Sir Philip wanted to know.

  “Think of a stiff paper packet. A thin one. Full length, stiff brocade, absolutely straight. Long thin sleeves even over the wrist line. Just about the fingers visible. After all, the woman will have to be able to eat at the banquet. A stand up stiff collar round the shoulder line. A sort of extra wall. The thick brocade to go along the body like a sausage skin. As there is hardly a bust-line, the whole effect is definitely a package.”

  “And that is what she wanted?” Lady Saunders exclaimed.

  “Absolutely. She explained in detail how she wanted her dress to reflect he serious step a marriage was. I followed Dad’s advice and immediately asked her what she wanted. I made no suggestions at all.”

  “Well, Popsikins, you’ve made us curious. I agree with you that under all circumstances, the dress must have a style. In your business, it is style that matters, am I right? This monstrosity will show your ability to create versatile models for every taste. Good for business.”

  “Is there a veil?” asked Lady Saunders.

  “Not what you’d call a veil. A round tower like a hat from which protrudes some stiff gauze till the shoulders.”

  Sir Philip’s shoulders were heaving, and a laugh even escaped his wife.

  Chapter 41

  Eric had had a busy week. It was Friday and he was relaxing with a small sherry. The doorbell rang. Eric guessed who it was before even opening the door.

  “Dear father-in-law, to what do I owe this honour?”

  “Oh, shush, Eric. We need to talk.”

  “This sounds ominous. When you turn up on your own, it means something tedious. Am I right?”

  “I am here to stop tedium from arriving at our door.”

  “Please come and settle yourself comfortably. What can I offer you? Sherry, whisky or brandy?”

  “A brandy will do fine.”

  Eric went to comply. As he gave Sir Philip his glass, he asked,

  “Now, what is this all about?”

  “Eric, the impending marriage has given me to think. I have bad premonitions about it. If nothing else, it was the design of the dreaded wedding dress that brought the realisation of a potential future problem, if not divorce, to my mind.”

  “Unfortunately I must share your view.”

  “That woman is after our money, believe you me. I can smell it,” Sir Philip snuffled with his nose like a dog.

  “Please continue.”

  “I’ve decided that under no circumstances will I allow her to get a hold of my pennies. Not one. She will be able to bleed Lucius dry, but not me. I am changing my Will. The half going to Lucius will be put into a trust for him and any future children of his. Them only. Upon any divorce, she won’t get anything.”

  “What a sensible idea, Philip. You are so right to do so. I’m glad you came here to talk, for I shall do exactly the same. Now that the housing market is picking up so fast, this house is worth a fortune. And yours in Knightsbridge will have an astronomical price tag.”

  “Exactly. As you are aware, I did settle good sums for Lucius and Emma at their twenty-first birthdays.”

  “I gathered that you must have done something of that ilk. Something must have set up Emma’s business.”

  “I hope it does not annoy you that I have always feathered the nest of the family members. To me family is sacrosanct, and we have a flourishing one. It saddens me how family life is being eroded in this world. Some finance helps to keep the worst problems away. Also, Eric, I am settling sums in advance to my great-grandchildren.”

  “Dear Philip, how very kind and thoughtful of you. We all love and admire you greatly.”

  When Sir Philip had gone, Eric decided the very next week to see his lawyers and set up a trust. At the same time, he hoped and prayed that Lucius’ marriage would not turn out too badly.

  In May, the wedding of Lucius and Amanda was lived through. It had been in St Albans. Sir Philip had hired a limousine for the day to keep everyone comfortable. As Amanda appeared on the arm of her father, Emma observed the other guests. As she had guessed, there were a number of raised eyebrows and suppressed smiles. The dress created a sensation all right. All went as planned and eventually the family could relax in the limousine, safely on their way home. After the honeymoon in the South of France, the couple would settle in Islington.

  By June, Emma was pregnant again. The next child was expected towards the end of January 2002. A baby boy came into the world on the 27th of January and was named Dominic Philip.

  Lady Saunders, who always followed with a beady eye the features of the newly born, pronounced that Dominic seemed to have Charles’s mother’s eyes but that the rest of him was pure Eric.

  “Lucky you, Philip,” said Lady Saunders, “now you have two youngsters to crawl and mess about with. I can tell you that you are the muckiest child in the playground.”

  “That’s why washing-machines were invented,” laughed her husband.

  The greatest of the family news was yet to come. Eric had known about this for some time, but he wanted to surprise the family with two pieces of good news at the same time. The first was that he was being made the Ambassador to Spain as from the following May, and the second was that he was being knighted and it would appear in the announcements of the New Year’s Honours. Till he said anything he wanted to see it in print with his own eyes. He knew that Sir Philip would be combing through the said names, as he did every year. This year was no exception. There was a huge shout from Sir Philip,

  “Look what I’ve found! What a magnificent surprise! You old fox, Eric, not breathing a word about it before!”

  “What? What? What is going on,” the others were shouting.

  “My dears, Eric has been knighted.”

  “Daddy. How wonderful. Just think that now there will be two Sirs in the family. Congratulations.” Emma ran to hug her father.

  “My boy, that is an honour well merited,” said Sir Philip, “I shall enjoy calling you Sir Eric.”

  “And I shall start calling you Sir Philip.”

 

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