Freddie, Bas and Charles were so excited, none of them noticed Declan’s look of thunderous disapproval, or that he’d dropped the application as though it was a wasp-infested pear.
‘Where did you get that?’ asked Freddie in awe.
‘I spent the weekend in Madrid and in bed with Cameron.’
Basil’s jaw clanged. ‘Does my brother know?’
‘Tony was due out there,’ said Rupert, ‘but I arranged for a chum to offer Tony an invite for Saturday night he couldn’t refuse.’
Basil started to laugh. ‘To meet HRH at Badminton?’
‘My God, was that your doing?’ said Charles in amazement. ‘Tony was boasting about it to everyone.’
‘So he stood up Ms Cook,’ said Rupert, wandering over to the drinks table and splashing more Perrier into his glass, ‘who was not overly delighted until I suddenly appeared on the adjacent balcony like
‘What was she like?’ asked Bas, fascinated.
‘Fucks like a stoat,’ said Rupert. ‘In fact the end-away definitely justified the means. Although I had to endure some hellish sightseeing on Sunday before she went off to collect her prize. That was when I got the application photostated.’
‘Bloody good,’ said Freddie.
‘You ought to join the CIA,’ said Bas.
‘She’ll be after your blood, your untainted AIDS-free blood, when she finds out,’ said Charles delightedly.
‘She won’t,’ said Rupert. ‘She hadn’t a clue. Well?’ He turned to Declan for approval.
But Declan was looking infinitely more thunderous than the cloud that had drenched The Priory earlier.
‘You can’t focking do that,’ he exploded.
‘Why ever not?’
‘Because it’s bloddy dishonest.’
‘I must be dreaming,’ said Rupert incredulously. ‘Declan dear, we’re pitching for a business with a hundred- and-twenty-five-million-pound turnover, not playing fucking tiddlywinks. Have a read. You can find out exactly what Tony’s up to and pre-empt it. It’s the most turgid stuff, much more effective than Mogadon. Tony seems to be promising an unchecked flow of good causes and Elizabethan drama for the next ten years!’
‘I’m not going to read it,’ said Declan roughly. ‘We’re playing this thing straight.’
‘Now come on, Declan,’ protested Freddie. ‘Think of the clout it’ll give us.’
‘Never cast a clout till May is out,’ giggled Charles.
‘Shut up, Charles,’ snapped Declan. Then, turning to Rupert, who was now absolutely shaking with rage, ‘I repeat, we’re playing it straight.’
‘Tony is evil,’ hissed Rupert. ‘Don’t you think he’d do the same thing to you, given the chance? I thought you were out to get him.’
‘Not by sinking to his methods,’ said Declan coldly.
‘Then what are you doing asking the Bishop to lunch, dressing Maud up like a nun and asking him to say Grace?’
‘That’s different.’
‘It is NOT!’ Rupert was furiously pacing up and down the floorboards now. ‘And what are you doing poaching half Tony’s staff? I’m amazed you didn’t ring Tony first and ask his permission.’
‘That’s entirely different,’ yelled Declan. ‘What you’ve done is stolen Corinium’s property. It’s a criminal offence.’
‘Isn’t Charles Corinium’s property?’ yelled back Rupert.
‘Ooo,’ said Charles, looking excited. ‘They’re fighting over me.’
‘Shut up,’ screamed Rupert and Declan, both turning on him.
‘Charles came of his own volition,’ said Declan, ‘but Cameron had no idea what you were up to.’
‘She certainly enjoyed it,’ snarled Rupert. ‘Don’t you go feeling sorry for her, and Jesus, the hassle I went to, getting that thing photostated. I practically had to bang the receptionist.’
‘Never been a hardship for you,’ said Declan icily, and, picking up the application and the two tapes, he chucked them into the wastepaper basket. Bas, Freddie and Charles winced. Rupert went very still.
‘And if any of you try and retrieve them, I’ll put them in the boiler,’ added Declan.
‘All my life I’ve been accused of lacking application,’ drawled Rupert, ‘then when I actually get hold of one. .’
‘It’s not a joke,’ roared Declan.
‘I’m not laughing,’ said Rupert bleakly. ‘Fuck you, Declan, and screw your bloody franchise.’
‘Now, wite a minute,’ said Freddie, leaping to his feet.
But Rupert had walked out. In the hall he nearly sent Taggie flying. She was carrying a pile of Aertex shirts and green skirts upstairs. Caitlin was going back to school next week.
‘What on earth’s the matter?’ she said in alarm.
‘Your fucking father.’
‘What’s he done? Come into the kitchen.’
‘It’s what he won’t do.’ For a second Rupert debated whether to walk out, but he was so angry with Declan he had to tell someone, so he followed her into the kitchen.
‘I’ll get you a drink.’
‘I’m not drinking. And I’ll never touch a drop of your father’s liquor again.’
‘What’s happened?’ said Taggie, bewildered. Then, realizing the steak and kidney she was frying on the Aga was catching, ran across the kitchen to give it a stir.
‘I’ve just spent all last weekend in Madrid screwing Cameron Cook,’ said Rupert furiously, ‘to get her on our side, and to get information about Corinium’s application, and by Sunday night I not only had her eating out of my hand, but had secretly photostated the entire application.’
He was so angry, he didn’t notice that Taggie’s wooden spoon had stopped moving.
‘What’s Daddy objecting to?’ said Taggie in a strangely high voice.
‘He won’t read it. He thinks it’s taking unfair advantage. Jesus, no wonder he’s broke.’
At that moment Freddie appeared in the doorway. But, seeing Rupert was talking to Taggie, he decided she’d be better at calming him down than any of them and tiptoed back to the library.
‘Let me make you a cup of tea,’ said Taggie.
By the time the kettle had boiled and the tea had brewed for three minutes, and Rupert had told her the whole story, she’d recovered her composure. After all, Rupert was entitled to go to bed with whom he chose, and perhaps he just did it with Cameron because he wanted to get hold of the application document, she thought hopefully, although Cameron was terribly beautiful and Patrick would be absolutely heartbroken if he found out. Oh God, what a terrible muddle.
Rupert leant against the Aga, looking moodily at a huge vase of bluebells.
‘From our wood,’ said Taggie, trying to lift the conversation. ‘Aren’t they lovely?’
Rupert was about to snap that they were from his wood now.
‘Don’t try to placate me,’ he said coldly.
Taggie handed him a cup of tea. Then she took a deep breath. ‘I think Daddy’s right,’ she stammered.
Rupert looked up. ‘You what?’ he said, unbelievingly. ‘Not you, too?’
‘He wouldn’t feel right with himself. It’s like cheating in exams. To most people it wouldn’t matter, but he’s got such utter integ. .’ Taggie stumbled over the word.
‘Integrity, and I haven’t, I suppose.’
‘Of course you have, but of a different kind. If you won the franchise because he’d spied on Tony Baddingham, he wouldn’t be able to live with himself.’
‘Well, he’s not living with me any longer. D’you think Tony won’t wheel out every trick in the book, once he finds out we’re bidding against him? Your father’s trying to fight a nuclear war with a pop gun.’
‘It’s because he disapproves of Lord Baddingham so much. He couldn’t descend to his level. That’s why he’s bidding against him.’
‘Not with me, he ain’t,’ said Rupert, putting down his mug. ‘I’m out.’
‘Oh please not,’ pleaded Taggie. ‘It’s so lovely for them having you as part of the consortium. You’ve got such
