had said, with what the journalist described as charming modesty, that he wasn’t nearly talented enough. ‘I thought I could succeed with cosmetics rather than on the stage. With my wife’s help, of course. No, a great deal more than help: she is the prime mover behind the House of Farrell. I want us to be regarded as a team.’
Florence liked that; it showed modesty and some rather up-to-date thinking. Her view of men was coloured by the distinctly bombastic ones who ran the store and treated the women who worked there with a condescension that came close to rudeness. She much preferred the rather flamboyant chaps who did the make up for special promotions, clearly homosexuals, although that was only hinted at, with reference to fairies and amidst much giggling in the ladies’. They were fun and gossipy and treated the girls as equals, admiring their hairstyles and their clothes and discussing films and music with them.
Cornelius Farrell clearly belonged to neither camp; he was a red-blooded man who not only admired women but liked them and valued them. Florence sat looking at his picture and rereading the article and thought how very fortunate Mrs Farrell was to have captured such an unusual example.
‘Daddy! Hello, it’s me!’
‘Hello, my darling.’ Bertie’s heart always lifted when he heard Lucy’s voice.
‘I’m – well, can I come home this weekend?’
‘Darling, of course you can. Want me to come and collect you?’
‘Um – that might be nice. If you really don’t mind.’
‘Sweetheart, of course I don’t mind. What time will you be ready?’
‘Well, actually . . .’
‘Yes?’
‘I’m ready now.’
‘But it’s only Thursday. Lectures been cancelled?’
‘Um, sort of . . .’
‘Now what does that mean? You’re not cutting them, are you, Lucy? You know that’s not a good idea.’
‘Well, you see, Daddy, I’m not going to any more. I’m leaving uni. Now.’
‘Lucy, you can’t take that sort of decision on your own, there’s far too much at stake.’
‘Like – like what?’
‘Like your future.’
‘Dad, have you read the statistics lately? Half the graduates in the country can’t get decent jobs. They’re working in coffee shops. And that’s the lucky ones. I honestly don’t think a degree’s going to do me any good at all. Unless I wanted to be a teacher and I don’t. It’s different for Rob, he’s doing medicine and there’s a cast-iron job at the end of it. Not for me there isn’t. Honestly, I’ve thought about it really hard, and I know I don’t want to stay here. Some days I feel so bored and – and disillusioned I could cry. Oh, Daddy, I’d like to come home and explain properly. Try and make you understand.’
‘Well, of course I – we – will listen very carefully to what you have to say. But Lucy, it’s not even the end of term. Surely it would be better to see that out at the very least?’
‘Daddy, what would be the point?’
‘The point,’ said Bertie, ‘is that it might look just a little better on your CV. You have to think of these things, Lucinda. You’re not a child any more.’
He hardly ever called her Lucinda. It meant he was serious. If not actually cross.
‘Well, all right. I’ll – think about it. But – well, when can you come? I so want to see you.’
‘I’ll come on Saturday morning. As early as I can.’
Bertie put the phone down. He had a sense of frustration at the thought of what she was so wantonly throwing away, but she was touchingly interested in him. It was soothing, set against Priscilla’s uber-involvement in her charities and her slightly disdainful disinterest in him.
And Lucy would provide a most useful tool in the battle over the house – the valuation of it at two and a half million had sent Priscilla into overdrive. For a time at least Lucy would need her room, and besides she loved the house, would be horrified at her mother’s plan. And it would be lovely to have her at home,
Florence liked that; it showed modesty and some rather up-to-date thinking. Her view of men was coloured by the distinctly bombastic ones who ran the store and treated the women who worked there with a condescension that came close to rudeness. She much preferred the rather flamboyant chaps who did the make up for special promotions, clearly homosexuals, although that was only hinted at, with reference to fairies and amidst much giggling in the ladies’. They were fun and gossipy and treated the girls as equals, admiring their hairstyles and their clothes and discussing films and music with them.
Cornelius Farrell clearly belonged to neither camp; he was a red-blooded man who not only admired women but liked them and valued them. Florence sat looking at his picture and rereading the article and thought how very fortunate Mrs Farrell was to have captured such an unusual example.
‘Daddy! Hello, it’s me!’
‘Hello, my darling.’ Bertie’s heart always lifted when he heard Lucy’s voice.
‘I’m – well, can I come home this weekend?’
‘Darling, of course you can. Want me to come and collect you?’
‘Um – that might be nice. If you really don’t mind.’
‘Sweetheart, of course I don’t mind. What time will you be ready?’
‘Well, actually . . .’
‘Yes?’
‘I’m ready now.’
‘But it’s only Thursday. Lectures been cancelled?’
‘Um, sort of . . .’
‘Now what does that mean? You’re not cutting them, are you, Lucy? You know that’s not a good idea.’
‘Well, you see, Daddy, I’m not going to any more. I’m leaving uni. Now.’
‘Lucy, you can’t take that sort of decision on your own, there’s far too much at stake.’
‘Like – like what?’
‘Like your future.’
‘Dad, have you read the statistics lately? Half the graduates in the country can’t get decent jobs. They’re working in coffee shops. And that’s the lucky ones. I honestly don’t think a degree’s going to do me any good at all. Unless I wanted to be a teacher and I don’t. It’s different for Rob, he’s doing medicine and there’s a cast-iron job at the end of it. Not for me there isn’t. Honestly, I’ve thought about it really hard, and I know I don’t want to stay here. Some days I feel so bored and – and disillusioned I could cry. Oh, Daddy, I’d like to come home and explain properly. Try and make you understand.’
‘Well, of course I – we – will listen very carefully to what you have to say. But Lucy, it’s not even the end of term. Surely it would be better to see that out at the very least?’
‘Daddy, what would be the point?’
‘The point,’ said Bertie, ‘is that it might look just a little better on your CV. You have to think of these things, Lucinda. You’re not a child any more.’
He hardly ever called her Lucinda. It meant he was serious. If not actually cross.
‘Well, all right. I’ll – think about it. But – well, when can you come? I so want to see you.’
‘I’ll come on Saturday morning. As early as I can.’
Bertie put the phone down. He had a sense of frustration at the thought of what she was so wantonly throwing away, but she was touchingly interested in him. It was soothing, set against Priscilla’s uber-involvement in her charities and her slightly disdainful disinterest in him.
And Lucy would provide a most useful tool in the battle over the house – the valuation of it at two and a half million had sent Priscilla into overdrive. For a time at least Lucy would need her room, and besides she loved the house, would be horrified at her mother’s plan. And it would be lovely to have her at home,
Similar Books
