murmured Granny.
I glanced at her under the guise of studying the starters. She seemed more annoyed about Nicky’s behaviour than she ever had been about Allegra’s carryings-on. And Allegra had been expelled from six different schools, married a man who was already technically married to someone else, and nearly been arrested for international fraud.
‘Never mind,’ I said, trying to sound blasé. ‘It was lovely to have some time to chat on our own.’
Alexander inclined his head graciously. ‘You’re too sweet, Melissa. I can only apologise on his behalf.’
Granny tutted to herself. ‘Well, while we’re still on our own, as you can see, Alexander really needs some outside help,’ she said. ‘And, as I’ve told him, I don’t know anyone who could do a better job of knocking some sense into Nicky than you.’ She took a large sip of wine. ‘Any sense at all would be a good start.’
‘Dilys,’ began Alexander, with a swift look over the table at me, ‘you know, perhaps it’s a little unfair to Melissa to—’
Granny held up a hand. ‘Not at all. Melissa’s dealt with much more awful types than Nicky, haven’t you, darling? That dreadful actor boy in New York, for instance – tell Alexander about him.’
‘Well,’ I began, turning pink, ‘Godric wasn’t so awful – he was just a fish out of water, and I helped him to—’
‘He was an embarrassment,’ interrupted Granny. ‘Have you heard of him, Alex, darling? Ric Spencer? English actor, was in that film with the big plane crash? Anyway, he was upsetting people, sulking in interviews, no idea how to behave whatsoever. And Melissa stepped in and smoothed off his edges, and now he’s meant to be the next Hugh Grant, isn’t he? Did you tell me he’s in the running for James Bond?’
I blushed. ‘Yes, well, that was meant to be confidential . . .’
Alexander sighed deeply and spread his snowy-white napkin on his lap. ‘Dilys, I don’t doubt Melissa’s . . . capabilities for a second. I just wonder if it’s fair to land her with such a Herculean task.’ He smiled sadly at me.
‘Just what exactly is this Herculean task?’ I asked sweetly. ‘If you would explain what it is, I’ll be able to tell you whether I’m up to it or not.’
Alexander and Granny looked at each other.
‘He’s your grandson, Alex,’ said Granny encouragingly. ‘Better explain before he gets back, don’t you think?’
Alexander hesitated, then looked me square in the eye.
I tried not to melt.
‘My father was the last reigning prince-governor of a small province on the Montenegran coast,’ he said. ‘It wasn’t large, but we had a beautiful, ancient castle, and a marina and a wonderful forest where we kept truffle hounds . . . Anyway, there was a revolution in the nineteen thirties, long before your time, of course . . .’
‘And ours, darling,’ Granny reminded him.
Alexander allowed himself a little smile. ‘And ours. In any case, we were forced to abandon our family home in a great hurry, and move to France, but I have dreamed of returning ever since. And now, I am so pleased to say, there’s a chance that we can.’
‘Oh, how lovely!’ I exclaimed. ‘Just like a film!’
‘Ah.’ He raised a finger. ‘There are conditions. The country is not rich, and we must maintain the castle ourselves, which is not a problem. It would be an honour to do so. And we must allow people to look around some of it, and allow the BBC to film some drama there once a year, or somesuch. My lawyers are looking into that. But the main difficulty is that the government is very traditional. They want a family, a respectable family that they can show off to tourists.’ He shrugged his shoulders in a gorgeously European manner.
‘Ah,’ I said, beginning to understand.
‘My daughter, Oriane, is not . . .’ He turned to Granny. ‘What is the best way to put this, Dilys?’
‘Oriane reminds me very much of your mother,’ said Granny,
I glanced at her under the guise of studying the starters. She seemed more annoyed about Nicky’s behaviour than she ever had been about Allegra’s carryings-on. And Allegra had been expelled from six different schools, married a man who was already technically married to someone else, and nearly been arrested for international fraud.
‘Never mind,’ I said, trying to sound blasé. ‘It was lovely to have some time to chat on our own.’
Alexander inclined his head graciously. ‘You’re too sweet, Melissa. I can only apologise on his behalf.’
Granny tutted to herself. ‘Well, while we’re still on our own, as you can see, Alexander really needs some outside help,’ she said. ‘And, as I’ve told him, I don’t know anyone who could do a better job of knocking some sense into Nicky than you.’ She took a large sip of wine. ‘Any sense at all would be a good start.’
‘Dilys,’ began Alexander, with a swift look over the table at me, ‘you know, perhaps it’s a little unfair to Melissa to—’
Granny held up a hand. ‘Not at all. Melissa’s dealt with much more awful types than Nicky, haven’t you, darling? That dreadful actor boy in New York, for instance – tell Alexander about him.’
‘Well,’ I began, turning pink, ‘Godric wasn’t so awful – he was just a fish out of water, and I helped him to—’
‘He was an embarrassment,’ interrupted Granny. ‘Have you heard of him, Alex, darling? Ric Spencer? English actor, was in that film with the big plane crash? Anyway, he was upsetting people, sulking in interviews, no idea how to behave whatsoever. And Melissa stepped in and smoothed off his edges, and now he’s meant to be the next Hugh Grant, isn’t he? Did you tell me he’s in the running for James Bond?’
I blushed. ‘Yes, well, that was meant to be confidential . . .’
Alexander sighed deeply and spread his snowy-white napkin on his lap. ‘Dilys, I don’t doubt Melissa’s . . . capabilities for a second. I just wonder if it’s fair to land her with such a Herculean task.’ He smiled sadly at me.
‘Just what exactly is this Herculean task?’ I asked sweetly. ‘If you would explain what it is, I’ll be able to tell you whether I’m up to it or not.’
Alexander and Granny looked at each other.
‘He’s your grandson, Alex,’ said Granny encouragingly. ‘Better explain before he gets back, don’t you think?’
Alexander hesitated, then looked me square in the eye.
I tried not to melt.
‘My father was the last reigning prince-governor of a small province on the Montenegran coast,’ he said. ‘It wasn’t large, but we had a beautiful, ancient castle, and a marina and a wonderful forest where we kept truffle hounds . . . Anyway, there was a revolution in the nineteen thirties, long before your time, of course . . .’
‘And ours, darling,’ Granny reminded him.
Alexander allowed himself a little smile. ‘And ours. In any case, we were forced to abandon our family home in a great hurry, and move to France, but I have dreamed of returning ever since. And now, I am so pleased to say, there’s a chance that we can.’
‘Oh, how lovely!’ I exclaimed. ‘Just like a film!’
‘Ah.’ He raised a finger. ‘There are conditions. The country is not rich, and we must maintain the castle ourselves, which is not a problem. It would be an honour to do so. And we must allow people to look around some of it, and allow the BBC to film some drama there once a year, or somesuch. My lawyers are looking into that. But the main difficulty is that the government is very traditional. They want a family, a respectable family that they can show off to tourists.’ He shrugged his shoulders in a gorgeously European manner.
‘Ah,’ I said, beginning to understand.
‘My daughter, Oriane, is not . . .’ He turned to Granny. ‘What is the best way to put this, Dilys?’
‘Oriane reminds me very much of your mother,’ said Granny,
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