Kind Hearts And Coronets Page #2

It will have to be a job, not a career,

after all, Mama.

I'm afraid so, Louis.

A D'Ascoyne in trade.

Did poor Mama's silly dreaming...

plant in my brain some seed

which was afterwards to grow...

into the most sensational

criminal endeavor of the century?

If so, I was not conscious of it

at the time...

for there were things

of more immediate concern.

Even potential dukes have to eat.

Mr. Perkins,

our lodger for nearly 15 years...

did his best to be helpful.

He was employed as shopwalker

in a local drapery store...

and found employment for me there.

became what was known

as a general assistant at the drapery.

This humiliation continued

for two dispiriting years.

And then one day, Mama,

who had broken her glasses...

and could not afford

to have them mended...

was knocked down by a tram

near Clapham Junction...

and fatally injured.

- Louis.

- Yes, Mama.

I should like to be buried

in the family vault.

Yes, Mama.

I wrote to the duke

informing him of Mama's dying wish.

His reply

was the curtest possible refusal.

Standing by Mama's poor little grave

in that hideous suburban cemetery...

I made an oath that I would revenge

the wrongs her family had done her.

It was no more than

a piece of youthful bravado...

but it was one of those acorns

from which great oaks are destined to grow.

Even then I went so far

as to examine the family tree...

and prune it

tojust the living members.

But what could I do to hurt them?

What could I take from them...

except, perhaps, their lives?

I indulged for a moment

in a fantasy of all 12 of them...

being wiped out simultaneously

at a family reunion...

by my unseen hand...

of the penniless boy from Clapham being

miraculously transplanted to his birthright.

I even speculated

as to how I might contrive it.

But there were

other more urgent problems.

Mama's tiny income came from an annuity

and had died with her.

The problem ofhow to live

on 25 shillings a week was solved for me...

by an invitation from Dr. Hallward

to lodge with them.

It was galling to accept the status

of a poor relation...

but the certainty of seeing Sibella every day

was too tempting to be refused.

Louis, I'm so glad you accepted.

It was my idea, you know.

- I've brought you something.

- Oh, Louis, you shouldn't have.

You can't possibly afford it.

Oh, what a bother. There's Lionel.

See you at supper.

The next few years

brought many such heartbreaks...

but they also brought promotion-

laces and ribbons

at 30 shillings a week...

fabrics at 32 and six.

Finally, ladies'underwear at 35.

I decided that

if I was to be a draper...

at least I would not be

a suburban draper.

So I migrated to a large modern store which

hadjust been opened in the West End...

at the gigantic salary

of two pounds a week.

Every lunchtime I went to see

how my inheritance was proceeding.

Sometimes the deaths column

brought good news.

Sometimes

the births column brought bad.

The advent of twin sons to the duke

was a terrible blow.

Fortunately,

an epidemic of diphtheria...

restored the status quo

almost immediately...

and even brought me a bonus

in the shape of the duchess.

That summer

the Hallwards gave a party.

- Good evening, Sibella.

- Hello, Louis.

- You do look nice.

- So do you.

- Doesn't he, Lionel?

- Very.

Emboldened by her kindness to me...

I made a decision

I'd been toying with for some time.

Well, that's the last of them,

thank heaven.

- What an evening.

- I thought it was a very nice evening.

It may have been for you.

It's awful being a woman,

having to dance with a lot of dull men...

laugh at their jokes

while they're treading on your feet.

- I didn't tread on your feet.

- You're not dull.

- And your jokes are funny.

- Thank you.

- Sibella?

- Mm-hmm?

Sibella, will you marry me?

Louis, of course not. Do get up.

You may be half Italian,

but even so...

you do look silly

playing the stage lover like that.

- Oh, I look silly, do I?

- Yes. Very.

Do I still look silly?

Now, will you marry me?

No.

- Why not?

- Because I just said I'd marry Lionel.

- You can't.

- Why not?

Well, he's a clod.

He's not a gentleman.

Listen to who's talking.

Whoever heard of a gentleman

blacking the lodger's boots?

That's a wicked thing to say.

Just because Mama was poor.

Lionel will be very rich one day.

- I might be a duke one day.

- Pigs might fly.

No, I might. Really, I might.

You see, Mama was the daughter-

Oh, yes. I know.

Well, when you are a duke...

you just come and show me your crown,

or whatever it's called...

and then I'll feel awfully silly,

won't I?

Yes, you will.

Anyhow, I'm going to marry Lionel,

and now I'm going to bed.

You will.

If there was a precise moment...

at which my insubstantial dreaming

took on solid purpose...

that was it.

The D'Ascoynes had not only

wronged my mother...

they were the obstacle between me

and all that I wanted.

The more I thought of them,

these people whom I had studied...

until I knew their names and histories

as well as I knew my own...

the more they became monsters

of arrogance and cruelty...

whose only function in the world

was to deprive me of my birthright.

only as Mama had painted it.

To pass in through

that magnificent gateway...

on visitor's day

at a cost of sixpence...

was a humiliating experience...

but I forced myself to undergo it.

I wanted a closer view of the target

at which I had determined to aim.

I little expected to catch

a glimpse of the bull's-eye.

Excuse me, sir.

There were then some eight people

between me and the dukedom...

all seemingly equally out of reach.

It is so difficult to make a neatjob

ofkilling people...

with whom one is not

on friendly terms.

I was almost resigned

to its being an impossibility...

when one afternoon, at a moment when

my thoughts were furthest from the subject...

fate took a hand.

If you've nothing better,

those will have to do.

These London shops

are so far behind Paris.

Parcel them up quickly,

and we'll take them with us.

- Charge them to my account.

- Yes, sir. What is the name?

Mr. Ascoyne D'Ascoyne.

At last, I was face to face with one of them.

This was the son

of Lord Ascoyne D'Ascoyne, the banker...

whose refusal to help me

towards a more dignified career...

had led to my present

ignominious occupation.

What right had this arrogant puppy...

to be standing on the other side

of the counter ordering me about?

In my excitement and anger,

I listened openly to their conversation.

I've booked rooms

at Cruickshanks' at Maidenhead.

We'll go down late

on Friday afternoon.

Are you sure it's safe?

It's the most discreet place.

In fact, anonymous.

Hey, you. Get on with that parcel,

and never mind what we're talking about.

Don't you dare touch me like that!

I'm not interested

in your idiotic conversation.

If you want to add impertinence

to your eavesdropping...

we'll soon see about that.

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