While they were eating, she put the coffee on to boil and carried upstairs the suitcases that had been left in the hall. She noted that Elaine’s was of expensive leather, her initials stamped on it in gold.
When the coffee was ready, she carried it into the studio, arranging it on a small table by the fire. As she had expected, as soon as her father had drunk a cup, he announced that he was going to change.
Fenella gave her father five minutes upstairs alone and then she knocked on his bedroom door.
“Come in,” he called out.
As she entered, he remarked,
“Oh, it’s you!” with a note of surprise as though he had expected someone else.
“Can you bear to talk business for a moment?” Fenella asked him.
“No, I can’t,” Simon replied. “And, if you are going to ask for money, my girl, you can
