The Prodigal Daughter (21 page)

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Authors: Jeffrey Archer

Tags: #Children of immigrants, #Children of immigrants - United States, #Westerns, #General, #Romance, #Sagas, #Fiction, #Businesswomen

BOOK: The Prodigal Daughter
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“That’s the
nearest anyone has been yet,” said Florentyna.

Everyone laughed
except Florentyna’s mother.

“Well, if you
can’t find a job in New York, you can always come and work in San Francisco,”
said Bella.

“I’ll bear the
offer in mind,” Florentyna said lightly.

To her relief,
further discussion of her future was impossible because the graduation ceremony
was about to begin. George Kerman, the former U.S. ambassador to Russia,
delivered the graduation address. His speech was received enthusiastically.
Florentyna particularly enjoyed the ‘quotation from Bismarck which ended his
peroration: “Let us leave just a few tasks for our children to perform.”

“You’ll deliver
that address one day,” said Edward as they passed Tricentennial Hall.

“And pray, sir.
what
will be my chosen subject?”

“The
problems of being the first woman President.”

Florentyna
laughed. “You still believe it, don’t youT’

“And so do you,
even if it will always fall upon me to remind you.”

Edward had been
seen regularly with Florentyna during the year, and friends hoped they might
soon announce their engagement, but Edward knew that would never be. This was
one woman who would always be unattainable.
he
thought. They were destined to be close friends, never lovers.

After Florentyna
had packed her last few belongings and said goodbye to her mother, she checked
that she had left nothing in her room and sat on the end of her bed reflecting
on her time at Radcliffe. All she had left to show for it was that she had
arrived with three suitcases and was leaving with six and a Bachelor of Arts
degree. A crimson ice hockey pennant once given to her by Scott was all that
remained on the wall.

Florentyna
unpinned the pennant, held it for a moment,
then
dropped it into the wastepaper basket.

She sat in the
back of the car with her father as the chauffeur drove out of the campus for
the last time.

“Could you drive
a little slower?” she asked.

“Certainly,
ma’am.”

Florentyna
turned and stared out of the rear window until the spires of Cambridge were no
longer visible above the trees, and there was nothing of her past to see.

13

T
HE CHAUFFEUR BROUGHT
THE ROLLS-ROYCE to a halt at the traffic lights on Arlington Street on the west
side of the Public Garden.
lie
waited for the lights
to turn green while Florentyna chatted with her father about their forthcoming
trip to Europe.

As the lights
changed,
another Rolls
passed in front of them,
turning offCommonwealth Avenue. Another graduate and parent were deep in
conversation in the back.

“I sometimes
think it would have been better for you to have gone to Yale, Richard,” she
said.

Richard’s mother
looked at him approvingly. He already had the fine aristocratic looks that had
attracted her to his father over twenty years before, and now he had made it
five generations of the family who had graduated from Harvard.

“Why Yale?” he
asked gently, pulling his mother back from her reminiscences.

“Well, it might
have been healthier for you to get away from the introverted air of Boston.”

“Don’t let
Father hear you say that; he would consider such a suggestion nothing less than
treason.”

“But do you have
to return to Harvard Business School, Richard? Surely there must be other
business schools?”

“Like Father, I
want to be a banker. If I’m going to follow in his footsteps, Yale isn’t
equipped to tie Harvard’s laces,” he said mockingly.

A few minutes
later, the Rolls came to a halt outside a large house on Beacon Hill. The front
door opened and a butler stood in the doorway.

“We have about
an hour before the guests
arrive
,” said Richard,
checking his watch. “I’ll go and change immediately. Mother, perhaps we could
meet up a little before seven-thirty in the West Room?” He even sounded like
his father, she thought.

Richard bounded
up the stairs two at a time; in most houses he could have managed three. His
mother followed behind at a more leisurely pace, her hand never once touching
the banister.

The butler
watched them disappear before returning to the pantry. Mr. Kane’s cousin, Henry
Cabot Lodge, would be joining them for dinner, so he wanted to double-check
that everything below stairs was perfect.

Richard stood in
the shower smiling at the thought of his mother’s concern.

He had always
wanted to graduate from Harvard and improve on his father’s achievements. He
couldn’t wait to enroll at the Business School next
fall,
although he had to admit he was looking forward to taking Mary Bigelow to
Barbados that summer. He had met Mary in the rehearsal rooms of the Music
Society and later they were both invited to play in the university string
quartet. The pert little lady from Radcliffe played the violin far better than
he performed on the cello. When he eventually serenaded the reluctant Mary into
bed he found she was again the better tuned, despite her pretense at
inexperience. Since those days he had also discovered she was highly strung.

Richard turned
the dial to “Cold” for a brief moment before leaping out. He dried and changed
into evening dress. He checked himself in the mirror: double-breasted. Richard
suspected he
WOUld
be the only person that night
wearing the latest fashion-not that it mattered when you were a little over six
feet, slim and dark. Mary had once said that he looked good in everything from
jock strap to morning coat.

He went
downstairs and waited in the West Room for his mother to join him.

When she
appeared the butler served them both a drink.

“Good
heavens,
are double-breasted suits back in fashion?” she
inquired.

“You had better
believe it.
The very latest thing, Mother.”

“I can’t believe
it,” she said. “I remember...”

The butler
coughed. They both looked around. “The Honorable Henry Cabot Lodge,” he
announced.

“Cabot,” said
Richard’s mother.

“Kate my (tear,”
he replied, before kissing her on the cheek.

Kate smiled; her
cousin was wearing a double-breasted jacket.

Richard smiled,
because it looked twenty years old.

Richard and Mary
Bigelow returned from Barbados almost as brown as the natives. They stopped off
in New York to have dinner with Richard’s parents, who thoroughly approved of
his choice. After all, she was the great-niece of Alan Lloyd, who had succeeded
Richard’s grandfather as chairman of the family bank.

Once Richard had
returned to the Red House, their Boston residence on Beacon Hill, he quickly
settled down and prepared himself for the Business School. Everyone had warned
him it was the most demanding course at the university with the largest number
ot dropouts, but once the term had started, even he was surprised by how little
free time he had to enjoy other pursuits. Mary began to despair when he had to
relinquish his place in the string quartet and could manage to see her only on
weekends.

At the end of
the first year she suggested they should return to Barbados and was
disappointed to find he intended to stay put in Boston and continue studying.

When Richard
returned for his final year he was determined to finish at or near the top of
his class, and his father warned him not to relax until after the last exam
paper had been completed. His father had added that if he did not make the top
10 percent he needn’t apply for a position at the bank. William Kane would not
be accused of nepotism.

At Christmas,
Richard rejoined his parents in New York but remained for only three days
before returning to Boston. His mother became quite anxious about the pressure
he was putting himself under, but Richard’s father pointed out that it was only
for another six months. Then he could relax for the rest of his life. Kate
reserved her opinion; she hadn’t seen her husband rclax in twenty-five years.

At Easter,
Richard called his mother to say he ought to remain in Boston during the brief
spring vacation, but she managed to convince him he should come down for his
father’s birthday.
lie
agreed but added that he would
have to return to Harvard the next morning.

Richard arrived
at the family home on East
Sixty-eighth
Street just
after four on the afternoon of his father’s birthday. His mother was there to
greet him, as were his sisters, Virginia and Lucy. His mother considered he
looked drawn and tired, and she longed for his exams to be over. Richard knew
that 135 his father would not break his routine at the bank for anyone’s
birthday. He would aff ive home a few minutes after seven.

“What have you
bought for Daddy’s birthday?” inquired Virginia.

“I was waiting
for your advice,” said Richard flatteringly, having quite forgotten about a
present.

“That’s what I
call leaving it until the last moment,” said Lucy. “I bought my present three
weeks ago.”

“I know the very
thing he needs,” said his mother. “
A pair of gloves-his old
ones are
nearly worn out.”

“Dark blue,
leather, with no pattern,” said Richard, laughing. “I’ll go to Bloomingdale’s
right now.”

He strode down
Lexington Avenue, falling in with the pace of the city. He was already looking
forward to joining his father in the
fall,
and felt
confident that if there were no distractions in the last few months he would
come out in that top 10 percent. He would emulate his father and one day
be
chairman of the bank. He smiled at the thought. He pushed
open the doors of Bloomingdale’s, strode up the steps and asked an assistant
where he could buy gloves. As he began making his way through the crowded store
he glanced at his watch. Plenty of time to be back and change for dinner before
his father returned. He looked up at the two girls behind the glove counter. He
smiled; the wrong one smiled back.

The smiling girl
came quickly forward. She was a honey blonde with a little too much lipstick
and one more button undone than Bloomingdale’s could possibly have approved of.
Richard couldn’t help admiring such confidence.

A small name tag
pinned over her left breast read “Maisie Luntz.”

“Can I help you,
sir?” she asked.

“Yes,” said
Richard. He glanced toward the dark-haired girl. “I need a pair of gloves, dark
blue, leather, with no pattern,” he said without letting his eyes return to the
blonde.

Maisie selected
a pair and put them on Richard’s hands, pushing the leather slowly down each
finger and then holding them up for him to admire.

“If they don’t
suit you, you could try another pair.”

“No, that’s just
fine,” he said. “Do I pay you or the other girl?”

“I can take care
of you.”

“Damn,” said
Richard under his breath. He left reluctantly, detennined he would return the
next day. Until that afternoon he had considered love at first sight the most
ridiculous clicm, fit only for readers of women’s magazines.

130TnE PRODIGAL
DAUGHTLR

His father was
delighted with the “sensible” present, as he referred to the gloves over dinner
that night, and even more delighted with Richard’s progress at Business School.

“If you we in
the top ten percent I shall be happy to consider offering you a position of
trainee at the bank,” he said for the thousandth time.

Virginia and
Lucy grinned. “What if Richard comes out number one, Daddy?

Will you make
him chairman?” asked Lucy.

“Don’t tx~ frivolous,
my girl. If Richard ever becomes chairman it will be because he will have
earned the position after years of dedicated, hard work.” He turned to his son.
“Now, when are you returning to Harvard?”

Richard was
about to say tomorrow, when he said, “I think tomorrow. “

“Quite right”
was
all his
father said.

The next day
Richard returned not to Hai vard, but to Bloomingdale’s, where he headed
straight for the glove counter. Before he had any chance of letting the other
girl serve him, Maisie pouDeed; he could do nothing about it except purchase
another pair of gloves and return home.

The following
morning, Richard returned to Bloomingdale’s for a third time and studied ties
on the next counter until Maisie was busy scrving a customer and the other girl
was free. He then marched confidently up to the counter and waited for her to
serve him. To Richard’s horror, Maisie disengaged herself in midsentence from
her customer and rushed over while the other girl took her place.

“Another pair of
gloves?” giggled the blonde.

“Yes... Yes,” he
said lamely.

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