He was wearing his wolfskin coat, and carried the ashes in a small urn. He had tied the horseshoe to it.
‘I wondered if you would like to say goodbye to her? I’m going to the chapel, and I’d like it if you came — would you?’
They walked apart to begin with, Edward carrying the ashes under his arm. Twice Jinks stumbled, and in the end he tucked her arm in his. He knew the way, never stopping once, and he guided her to ensure the branches didn’t slap her face.
‘Okay, we’re here... You all right?’
She nodded, and he pushed the door open. Jinks hung back slightly as he moved further into the dark, broken-down chapel. He bent down and brushed the dead leaves from the small stone slab.
Jinks whispered, ‘She carved his name, she told me all about him.’
He looked up at her and smiled gently. She could see his eyes were brimming with tears. Sitting back on his heels he opened the urn, held the contents in his hand. He trickled the soft ashes between his fingers, spreading them over his dead son’s grave, then rubbed them until they were part of the stone, part of the scratched name, ‘Freedom’.
Jinks walked slowly to her father and stood behind him. He turned, wrapping his arms around her, and cried like a child in his own child’s embrace. He broke her heart as he said her mother’s name over and over... said it so softly, with such tenderness, that she knew he still loved her.
Jinks and Edward travelled back to London together on the fast morning train. He sat opposite her, and when she looked up from her book she found him scrutinizing her. ‘You know, without those bloody glasses you’d be a smasher. Do you have to wear them? Take the damned things off and let’s have a look at you.’
Jinks would not meet his eyes as he removed her spectacles. ‘Shouldn’t this be in a movie? “Good God, Miss Jones, you’re beautiful... ”’ She smiled at her own joke, but he saw the way she avoided his gaze, the embarrassed flush spreading up her cheeks.
‘Untie your hair.’
‘Oh, Daddy, please don’t, people will start looking.’
‘I don’t care — it’s about time someone took you in hand. It’s all right, don’t look so startled, I’m not saying it should be me. But you know,’ he said reassuringly, ‘you look terrible... Your mother never had much dress sense, but one time she came back from Paris and my God did she look a cracker... hair, outfits... You got a boyfriend?’
‘No I haven’t, and please give me my glasses...’
Edward held them away from her and peered through the lenses, then back at his daughter. ‘Are you long-or shortsighted? Contact lenses would be better than these. Here, don’t get all panic-stricken, put them on, go back into hiding.’
She put them on and looked around quickly to see if any of the passengers had noticed. Then she gazed out of the window and whispered, ‘Got rather a long nose, and if that wasn’t bad enough I’m cross-eyed, my left eye...’
‘You are not.’
‘I am.’
‘Look at my finger... Come on, look at my finger and I’ll tell you if you’re bloody cross-eyed or not — that was your mother... My God.’
‘See, I told you.’
‘No... you don’t understand — Miss Jones, you are beautiful — you are beautiful!’
Jinks laughed, and he loved the deep, throaty sound of it. She put her hands up to cover her face... She needed to be cared for, given confidence in herself. Suddenly he knew who could do it... His daughter looked plain, dowdy, but with the right help she could make the best of herself...
Barbara replaced the telephone receiver and tapped it with her perfectly manicured nails. Edward had rarely, if ever, called her over the years. He had said little about why he had suddenly contacted her, just that his daughter needed her help. They would be driving past her house on the way to Greenwich, and Barbara could think of no reason to refuse. Jinks, on the other hand, had been furious with her father.
‘What? Auntie Barbara? I’m not going! How could you, you know Mother detested her.’
‘You don’t have to like the woman, for Chrissakes, just use her. She knows just about everyone, and she’s got great style.’
Jinks was waiting for her father outside the station as the car was brought up from the parking bay.
‘Barbara’s brought up two daughters of her own, and she has contacts. You’ll like her, once you get over her duchess act.’
Jinks sat moodily at his side. ‘She was always foul to Mother, didn’t even come to her funeral, and now I’m supposed to go round and see her. Well, I won’t. I don’t need her, I don’t need anybody.’
‘No? Grow up, sweetheart. You look like a frump, and you could do with someone to give you a hand. Don’t think because you’ve got brains life is going to be an easy ride.’
‘Oh, I see! It’s a bit late, isn’t it?’
Edward braked sharply to a stop and turned towards the glowering, petulant girl. ‘Maybe I am too late for you to care about what I think or feel, but it’s not too late for you to make the best of yourself. Stop behaving like a spoiled brat, a stinking rich kid! You want to get out? Well? Yes or no?’
She turned away from him, shrugging her shoulders. Edward restarted the Rolls and it surged forward. She had one hell of a stubborn streak in her, and he could see the way she clenched her hands as she fought to control her temper. He reached over to pull her closer, but she resisted, and in the end they continued their journey to Mayfair in silence.
Barbara was waiting for them in the small drawing room. She looked as immaculate as ever, and viewed Jinks with a critical, almost professional, scrutiny.
‘Dear God, you should have brought her to me before. My darling girl, don’t you realize what most women would give to have a figure like yours? Clothes, darling, are designed for you — not that I could recommend the ones you have on, but with those long legs you’ll be a dream to dress. Have you ever been to the Paris collections?’
Jinks wouldn’t look at Barbara. She mumbled that she had been to Paris with her school; then, suddenly, she tossed her head back and squinted at Barbara through her glasses. ‘Besides, I’ll be going to university, not frightfully interested in Paris, or clothes.’
‘Yes, darling, I can see that.’ Barbara cocked her head to one side, then flicked a half-smile to Edward. ‘God, she’s like her mother... which university?’
Proudly, Edward told her that Jinks had gained coveted places at both Oxford and Cambridge. Barbara lit a cigarette, not impressed in the slightest. She let the smoke drift from her nostrils, still looking Jinks up and down.
‘Ghastly places... why the hell don’t you go to Vassar? At least you’d be out of this freezing country. English universities breed excellent, horsey frumps. If Evelyn had won a place I’d be over the moon, but females... No, no, I don’t think you should go, darling. Big world out there — what do you want to do with your life? Bury it?’
Jinks blushed, tucking her size nine feet beneath her chair. She gave her father a helpless look, wanting to leave. Barbara took a large diary from her desk drawer and thumbed through it, making murmuring noises, then snapped it shut.
‘I can start Thursday week, taking you around London, just to get a few outfits to travel to Paris in. I’m going anyway, I always go for the collections, and Jinks can travel with me. Darling, those glasses — why on earth don’t you wear contact lenses? You’ll regret it later in life — you’ll get an awful mark across your nose and red lines under your eyes. If you’ll be here at nine, I like to start early to avoid the crush of unwashed humanity. Edward, I’ll call you with our itinerary, because I like to have everything arranged. It’ll be expensive, but worth it.’