‘Oh, I don’t want to intrude. I’ll only be a few minutes.’
‘No, it’s fine,’ she said waving her hand. ‘Let me go and tell them to entertain themselves for a while.’
By the time she returned Christopher had wandered into the library.
‘I see you’ve added a few feminine touches.’
She smiled. There hadn’t been a great deal of time to do anything with the house, but she had removed a few of Saul’s slightly more masculine decorations: the dented blunderbuss on the mantelpiece, the antique pistols, the buffalo skin Zulu shields, the rather severe-looking stuffed stag’s head which looked down from the eaves.
‘I tried to tell myself that poor stag had been dead for twenty years, but his eyes still seemed to be following me around, giving me evil looks,’ she smiled.
Christopher laughed. ‘I was there when Saul shot it. Perhaps I should have taken it myself and pickled it; I could have appealed to a whole new generation of art lovers.’
They both found themselves looking at the grand portrait of Saul above the fireplace. ‘I do miss that old rogue …’ said Christopher quietly. ‘I didn’t see him enough over the last few years. I regret that.’
‘We all do,’ said Emma.
Christopher nodded, then shivered, shaking his shoulders like a dog.
‘Anyway, sorry for dropping by unannounced. I was on my way to London and thought I’d take a detour into Chilcot. I’ve just been to the church to pay my respects to Saul. I couldn’t make the funeral; Chessie my wife was in hospital.’
‘Oh, I’m sorry. Nothing serious I hope?’
Christopher shook his head.
‘Everything’s fine.’
He wandered over to the mantelpiece and picked up a silver frame containing a black and white photograph of Saul and himself in Egypt, and another of them arm-in-arm at the top of Mount Cook.
‘Look at him,’ said Christopher with affection, ‘he always was a big showman.’
‘You noticed he has the biggest gravestone in the church grounds?’ smiled Emma.
‘Of course he has,’ laughed Christopher. ‘He should have been an entertainer, not a businessman. I know he wouldn’t mind me saying that. But he was shrewd enough to give the company to you. That news filtered down as far as St Ives.’
‘Shrewd? Not everybody sees it that way.’
Christopher looked at her, rubbing his chin with his hand. Emma was startled to see that his artistic fingers were now twisted and gnarled by arthritis.
‘I wanted to drop by and see if you were OK,’ he said with a note of concern. ‘How is it going so far?’
‘Difficult,’ she said honestly.
‘Roger?’
Emma caught the co-conspirator’s smile.
She grinned back and nodded.
‘Roger always had a high
opinion of himself. Always been the failing of this company in my opinion. Saul allowed him to get away with far too much, indulged Roger’s ego. Actually, I think he was a little afraid of him. As I’m sure you know, Roger can be very charming, but he’s also very manipulative. Saul made him creative director at 25 because, well, because that’s what Roger wanted. And the company has been going downhill ever since.’
‘Well, he isn’t creative director of Milford any longer.’
‘You fired him?’ said Christopher, surprised.
‘Not exactly. Moved him along.’