Free Harriet by Jilly Cooper Page A

handsome is Master Kit. Tall and golden as one of them sun-flowers, and enough charm to bring roses out of the ground in winter. But he always brings trouble. Drove his poor mother mad with worry. Magnificent scenery, indeed. He never moved out of Mrs. Erskine’s bedroom, and she lying there totally nude, as though butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth, and the central heating turned up so high, you’d think it was a heatwave. And it wasn’t just painting they got up to, neither.’
        ‘Whatever did Mr. Erskine say when he got home?’ said Harriet in awe. ‘He must have hit the roof.’
        "E did,’ said Mrs. Bottomley. ‘You should have heard them. Mr. Cory, very controlled as always, but very sarcastic, and Mrs. E. in hysterics. You could hear her shouting all over the house: "Well, at least I kept it in the family, this time"!’
        There was a pause before Mrs. Bottomley said, in a confidential voice, ‘You see Harriet, Master Kit wasn’t the first by a long way. Ever since Master Jonah was born, it’s been one young gentleman after another.’
        ‘But why does Mr. Erskine put up with it?’ said Harriet. ‘He doesn’t strike me as being the permissive type.’ Mrs. Bottomley shook her head.
        ‘He isn’t,’ she said glumly. ‘He’s tough in most ways, but where she’s concerned, he’s as weak as water. He loves her.’
        ‘But how’s he got the strength to divorce her now?’
        Mrs. Bottomley shrugged her plump shoulders. ‘Happen he won’t. She claims she wants to marry this Ronnie Acland, but I reckon Mr. Cory will take her back in the end. She likes being married to him. It gives her respectability, and he makes a lot of money. She’s extravagant, you know,wants the best of everything - and she likes having power over him, knowing he’s still under her spell.’
        Harriet understood so well how Cory felt. Now that she no longer worried about being able to keep William or where the next penny was coming from, all her thoughts centred on Simon.
        Her longing for him grew no less with time. It hungered in her, night and day, engulfing her senses and her reason in an aching void. She tried to fill the void with hard work, to stupefy the ache by watching endless television, and reading long into the night, but her loneliness deepened round her as though she were alone in a huge cave.
        Later that evening, after Mrs. Bottomley had gone up to bed, the telephone rang. Harriet answered it.
        ‘Mr. Erskine calling from Dublin,’ said the operator. Will you accept the call?’
        ‘Yes,’ said Harrie wondering what Cory was doing in Ireland.
        ‘Hullo, hullo, Co. Can I speak to Cory, please?’ It was a man’s voice - slow, lazy, expensive, very attractive. ‘He’s not here,; aid Harriet.
        ‘Hell, I thought he’d be back,’ said the voice. ‘Where is he?’
        ‘In Antibes still. Can I help?’
        ‘Not really, darling, unless you can lend me a couple of grand. I’ve found a horse Cory’s got to buy.’
        ‘Do you want to ring him?’ said Harriet. ‘I’ve got the number. Who is it?’
        The voice laughed. ‘Kit Erskine, registered black sheep. Hasn’t Botters been telling you horrible stories about me?’
        ‘Oh no, not at all.’ Even though he was miles away at the other end of a telephone, Harriet could feel herself blushing.
        ‘Of course she has. Don’t believe a word. It’s all true.’
        Harriet giggled.
        ‘And you must be Harriet?’ he went on. ‘The distressed gentlefuck.’
        ‘What do you mean?’ said Harriet furiously, immediately on the defensive. ‘How do you know?’
        ‘Cory told me or, rather, he issued king-sized ultimatums that I was to keep my thieving hands to myself where you’re concerned. Is that your little baby making that horrible noise?’
        ‘His teeth are hurting,’ said Harriet.
        ‘Why doesn’t he go to the dentist? Any news of Noel?’ Harriet,