Best Kept Secret

you promised you would,’ she reminded him before hailing a cab.
    ‘But isn’t it possible that the judge was right when he said my mother knew exactly what she was doing?’
    ‘If you believe that, Giles,’ said Virginia, turning to face him, ‘you obviously hold the same low opinion of me that she did.’
    Giles was left speechless as a taxi drew up. Virginia opened the door, climbed in and wound down the window.
    ‘I’m going to stay with my mother for a few days. If you haven’t lodged an appeal by the time I get back, I suggest you seek advice from a solicitor who specializes in
divorce.’

15
    T HERE WAS A firm rap on the front door. Giles checked his watch: 7.20 p.m. Who could it possibly be? He hadn’t invited anyone for dinner, and he
wasn’t expected back at the House to hear the closing speeches until nine. A second rap, equally firm, and he remembered it was the housekeeper’s night off. He placed yesterday’s
copy of Hansard on the side table, pushed himself up out of his chair and was heading towards the corridor when there was a third rap.
    ‘Hold your horses,’ Giles said. He pulled open the door to find the last person he would have expected standing on his doorstep in Smith Square.
    ‘Grace?’ he said, unable to mask his surprise.
    ‘It’s a relief to discover you still remember my name,’ said his sister as she stepped inside.
    Giles tried to think of an equally sharp rejoinder, but as he hadn’t been in touch with his sister since the day of his mother’s funeral, he had to accept that her barbed remark was
justified. In truth, he hadn’t been in contact with any of the family since Virginia had stormed out of the courtroom and left him standing on the pavement outside.
    ‘What brings you to London, Grace?’ he asked rather feebly, as he led his sister down the corridor and into the drawing room.
    ‘You,’ she replied. ‘If Mohammed, etcetera.’
    ‘Can I get you a drink?’ he asked, still wondering what she could possibly want, unless . . .
    ‘Thanks, a dry sherry would go down well, after that ghastly train journey.’
    Giles walked across to the sideboard and poured her a sherry, and a half tumbler of whisky for himself, as he desperately searched for something to say. ‘I’ve got a vote at
ten,’ he eventually managed, passing Grace her drink. His younger sister always made him feel like a naughty schoolboy who’d been caught smoking by the headmaster.
    ‘That will be more than enough time for what I have to say.’
    ‘Have you come to claim your birthright and throw me out of the house?’
    ‘No, you chump, I’ve come to try and knock some common sense into that thick skull of yours.’
    Giles collapsed into his chair and took a sip of whisky. ‘I’m all ears.’
    ‘It will be my thirtieth birthday next week, not that you would have noticed.’
    ‘And you’ve come all this way just to tell me what present you want?’ Giles said, trying to lighten the mood.
    ‘Exactly that,’ said Grace, taking him by surprise for a second time.
    ‘And what did you have in mind?’ Giles felt he was still on the back foot.
    ‘I want you to come to my party.’
    ‘But the House is in session, and since I’ve been promoted to the front bench, I’m expected—’
    ‘Harry and Emma will be there,’ said Grace, ignoring his excuses, ‘so it will be just like old times.’
    Giles took another gulp of whisky. ‘It can never be like old times.’
    ‘Of course it can, you fool, because you’re the only person who’s preventing it.’
    ‘They want to see me?’
    ‘Why wouldn’t they?’ said Grace. ‘This stupid feud has gone on long enough, which is why I intend to bang all your heads together before it’s too late.’
    ‘Who else will be there?’
    ‘Sebastian and Jessica, a few friends, mainly academics, but you don’t have to talk to them, except perhaps your old friend Deakins. However,’ she added, ‘there’s
one person I won’t be inviting. By the way, where is the bitch?’
    Giles had thought there was nothing his sister could ever say that would shock him. How wrong he was.
    ‘I’ve no idea,’ he eventually managed. ‘She hasn’t been in contact with me for over a year. But if you believe the
Daily Express
, she’s currently to
be found in St Tropez on the arm of an Italian count.’
    ‘I’m sure they’ll make a delightful couple. More important, it gives you grounds for divorce.’
    ‘I could never divorce Virginia, even