‘Well, the seeds are sown, give the bastard enough rope and he’ll hang himself.’
Book Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Jinks had half expected to hear from her father. Over the years she had been used to his broken promises, but after the funeral and the subsequent meeting with Barbara, she had thought their relationship had become closer. But he didn’t contact her, and she made no effort to see him. In truth she had no need of him, her finances were always dealt with by Miss Henderson, and her allowance covered any expenditures she incurred.
She had flown to New York, returning after two weeks, having enrolled for the forthcoming term at Vassar. She also made her early morning appointment with Barbara, and they had bought a number of smart outfits in preparation for the trip to Paris. Barbara had already booked an appointment with an optician, and Jinks’ glasses were unceremoniously dropped in the waste bin, Barbara ignoring her pleas that they helped disguise her problem.
‘What problem? That you’re a bit shortsighted, or what?’
‘No, I have a lazy eye, my left one. Mother was always going on about it.’
Jinks could smell Barbara’s heady perfume as she peered closely, then held Jinks at arm’s length, scrutinizing her eyes. ‘Absolute rubbish, there’s not a sign of a squint, probably all in her imagination.’
She was positively smug with satisfaction when the optician announced that Jinks did not need any kind of correction to her sight. ‘You see? What did I tell you? All the years you’ve had those terrible things wrapped around your face and you never needed them. Typical! Once I asked your mother to be a guest at a Wild Life luncheon — you know, Save the Animals — my dear, she turned up with a silver fox fur dangling round her neck! It was frightful, all through the lunch I could see this wretched thing with its glass eyes glinting at me. She did it on purpose — typical! Your eyes, darling, are your best feature, and you must learn to make the most of them. In fact, you are going to learn to make the most of yourself...’
Jinks was paraded through beauty salons, her body massaged and creamed. Her hair was trimmed, but Barbara wouldn’t hear of her having it cut short. She ran her fingers through Jinks’ thick curls and instructed the hairdresser to simply thin and shape it. Jinks, beginning to trust Barbara’s judgement, didn’t argue. There was no particular warmth between them, and Barbara treated her neither like a daughter nor a friend. But if she felt it a chore to be Jinks’ chaperone, she never showed it. She felt slightly sorry for Jinks in some way; the girl’s helplessness and lack of social graces were a challenge to her. And unlike her own daughters, Jinks took her advice without question. Then, as the trip drew nearer, Barbara suggested to Jinks that she should stay overnight in Mayfair so they could travel to the airport together.
Jinks was given Evelyn’s bedroom. The small room contained little or nothing of the boy, but she took a sneaky look through all the drawers and even read some of the stories he had written when he was a child. They dined very formally and Jinks said little, but noted the interaction between her uncle and his elegant wife. They appeared as formal with each other as they were to her.
Later, as she got ready for bed, she overheard them talking in Barbara’s bedroom. When she realized they were discussing her father, she listened intentionally. Alex had been quiet at dinner, but obviously agitated. Jinks could hear Barbara asking him if Jinks’ presence in the house upset him. Alex replied that he really couldn’t care less.
Jinks pressed her face against her door, eager not to miss a word of what was being said. Alex’s voice rose in anger as he described Edward’s total disregard for the company, for the amount of work Alex was doing... Jinks could hardly believe what she was hearing.
‘That bastard will drag me down with him unless I do something drastic. This time I’m not taking it, this time I’ve had enough. At this afternoon’s board meeting it was carried unanimously. I am taking over the company...’
‘It’s about time. I’m surprised you waited this long. If it’s not drugs, it’s drink; you should get him certified...’
‘That is just what I am doing.’
Alex’s laugh sounded hollow, humourless. The next moment, Jinks had to hurry across to her bed as she heard him in the corridor. Her door inched open, and he popped his head round.
‘Jinks? You asleep? If I don’t see you in the morning, have a good trip. Goodnight.’
‘Goodnight, Uncle Alex, and thank you for letting me stay.’
‘You’re welcome any time, good night.’
He closed the door and went to his own room, leaving Jinks unable to sleep for hours, repeating over and over in her mind every word she had heard her uncle say. She wondered if it was really possible for Alex to take over the Barkley empire and, if so, where would that leave her?
Jinks had been a lonely child, often having to take care of her mother. Now the realization that she also had to take great care of her own future, that nothing could be depended upon, made her aware of just how valuable Barbara Barkley could be.
Jinks began to practise a subtle manipulation of her aunt. She wanted to cut corners, and she knew Barbara could show her exactly how; after all, as her father had said, ‘You don’t have to like the woman, just use her.’ She began to see just what he had meant. The first-class travel was easily bought by anyone, but the extras that a VIP like Barbara Barkley could command were a revelation. She did indeed know everyone, and they moved their suites at the Hotel St George twice before Barbara was satisfied.
‘Honey, you never accept the first room they offer. You want the best, you can pay for the best, you make damn sure you get it...’
Barbara swept through Paris. The season was in full swing, and before they had unpacked the telephone was ringing every two minutes. Invitations poured in, and Barbara acquired a personal maid, a chauffeur-driven stretch limo and a secretary, plus a PR agent to announce where Barbara Barkley would be and at what time. Jinks stood back and admired her, flattered her, and paid close attention to every detail. Barbara obviously loved it all, exuding energy and a zest for life that women half her age would covet. She delighted in having Jinks close at hand to whisper and giggle with, and often said the most outrageous things. She appeared to know who had had what lifted and by whom, and when Jinks asked how she knew so much she roared with laughter.
‘Because, sweet thing, I have used their doctors myself. You don’t remain thirty-eight for long without paying for it, and when it’s in such good condition and all in working order, you bet your sweet arse I know who else has been having the same tucks...’
Together they moved with the elite, surrounded by film stars and Parisian society. Jinks soaked up everything she saw like a sponge. Barbara never let her down, and whisked her to one designer after another. She also took her protegee’s wardrobe very seriously and introduced her to many young designers she thought more suitable than the named houses she herself preferred. After one show she insisted on taking Jinks backstage to meet Jerry Hall, a model as tall, and with feet as big as Jinks’, to give her a good look at what she could do with herself if she tried.
Barbara received so many invitations that did not include Jinks that occasionally she would depart for luncheons or dinners without her. On one of these evenings Jinks was sitting alone, brushing her hair and trying on some of her new clothes. She had ordered room service, so when there was a knock on the door she called for them to come in to set up her dinner. But there were no sounds of a trolley or clinking of cutlery, so she walked through to the lounge.