Cometh the Hour: A Novel by Jeffrey Archer Page B

Markham?”
    “Mrs. Clifton always leaves a change of clothes in the guest bedroom, sir, in case of an emergency.”
    “This is unquestionably an emergency,” said Giles, taking Karin by the hand and leading her out of the room.
    “Won’t she object?” asked Karin as they climbed the stairs to the first floor.
    “It’s difficult to object to something you don’t know about.”
    “Perhaps you should call her?”
    “I have a feeling Emma might be doing something a little more important than worrying about which clothes she left in London,” said Giles as he opened the door to the guest bedroom.
    Karin pulled open a large wardrobe to find not one, but several suits and dresses, not to mention a rack of shoes she would never have seen in a worker’s cooperative.
    “Come and join me downstairs once you’re ready,” said Giles. He spent the next forty minutes trying to finish the morning papers, while being regularly interrupted by phone calls offering congratulations or trying to arrange interviews. He even found the odd moment to speculate about why Harold Wilson wanted to see him.
    “Mr. Clifton is on the line, sir,” said Markham, passing him the phone once again.
    “Harry, how are you?”
    “I’m fine, but having read the morning papers, I’m just calling to find out how you are after escaping from the Germans a second time.”
    Giles laughed. “Never better.”
    “I presume being reunited with Miss Pengelly is the cause of you sounding so pleased with yourself.”
    “Got it in one. As well as being beautiful, Karin’s the most delightful, kind, thoughtful and considerate creature I’ve ever met.”
    “Isn’t it a little early to be making such an unequivocal judgment?” suggested Harry.
    “No. This time, I’ve really struck gold.”
    “Let’s hope you’re right. And how do you feel about the press describing you as a cross between Richard Hannay and Douglas Bader?”
    “I see myself more as Heathcliff,” said Giles, laughing.
    “So when are we going to be allowed to meet this paragon?”
    “We’ll be driving down to Bristol on Friday evening, so if you and Emma are free for lunch on Saturday—”
    “Sebastian’s coming down on Saturday, and Emma’s hoping to talk to him about taking over as chairman. But you’re welcome to join us.”
    “No, I think I’ll skip that, but why don’t you all come over to the Hall for lunch on Sunday?”
    “Isn’t that putting a little too much pressure on Karin?” said Harry.
    “When you’ve been living under a Communist regime for most of your life, I don’t think you’d consider having lunch with the Cliftons as pressure.”
    “If you’re sure, then we’ll see you both on Sunday.”
    “I’m sure,” said Giles, as the front door bell rang. “Got to dash, Harry.” He put the phone down and checked his watch. Could it possibly be ten o’clock already? He almost ran into the hall to find Markham opening the front door.
    “Good morning, Mr. Pengelly, Sir Giles is expecting you.”
    “Good morning,” said Pengelly, giving the butler a slight bow.
    “Come on in,” said Giles, as they shook hands. “Markham, can you rustle up some fresh coffee while I take Mr. Pengelly through to the drawing room.”
    “Of course, sir.”
    “Karin should be down in a moment. It’s a long story, but she’s trying to decide which of my sister’s clothes to wear.”
    Pengelly laughed. “Women have enough trouble deciding which of their own clothes to wear.”
    “Did you have any difficulty finding us?”
    “No, I left it all to the taxi driver. A rare experience for me, but this is a special occasion.”
    “It certainly is,” said Giles. “The chance to be reunited with your daughter when you thought you might never see her again.”
    “I’ll be eternally grateful to you, Sir Giles. And if the Telegraph is to be believed, it was a close-run thing.”
    “Brookes exaggerated the whole incident,” said Giles, as the two of them sat down,