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buyer thinks you’re fearless. Writing about your fear – terror, even – would be much more gripping than any Captain Scott stiff-upper-lip heroics.’
    ‘Is that so? Do I understand you to be suggesting some sort of “warts and all” portrait then?’
    ‘ I’m suggesting you tell the whole story. Present yourself as an ordinary man with both strengths and weaknesses. That can only serve to highlight your outstanding courage and leadership, not to mention your astonishing powers of endurance. If you’ll forgive my saying so, Mr MacNab, you should be dead. I’d like to help you write a book that explains exactly why you’re not.’
    Sholto regarded me with some suspicion, then said, ‘And what about my personal life? Are you proposing a confessional approach there too?’
    ‘I am, th ough of course I realise this might make uncomfortable demands on you and other members of your family.’
    ‘They’re dead.’
    ‘I beg your pardon?’
    ‘My wives. They’re both d ead. They can’t suffer any more,’ he added, avoiding my eyes.
    I thought it best not to comment and there followed a pause in which Sholto was obviously consi dering something. He regarded me and said, ‘Do we really have to dredge up all the old stories? The gossip about my second wife?... And my poor daughter-in-law. You know people thought it was suicide?’ I nodded and Sholto passed a hand across his face, dragging the flesh across the fine bones. ‘I’m really not concerned about myself. I’m thinking of Alec. He’s never been – now how shall I put this? Between you and me, Jenny, Alec has never been mentally robust . His mother’s death… Then Coral’s… The lad took some hard knocks.’
    ‘ Mr MacNab, if I may speak freely—’
    He spread his hands. ‘Go ahead. That’s what this meeting’s for. Putting all our cards on the table.’
    ‘ I am in no way advising you what to do. That’s not within my remit. My job would be to help you tell your story in whatever way you wish to tell it. Any moral or artistic decisions must ultimately be yours.’
    ‘Of course. It will be my na me on the dust jacket.’
    ‘ Indeed. But Fergus has already mentioned you’d like your book to sell a lot of copies.’
    ‘Oh , yes, that’s the whole point! Only reason I’m doing it, in fact. You think I want to spend weeks cooped up indoors poring over old scrapbooks, talking about the adventures I used to have? The man I used to be?’ His laugh was a humourless bark. ‘I do not! Delightful though I’m sure your company would be, Jenny,’ he added graciously.
    ‘Well, if you want us to produce a bestseller, I suggest you’re absolutely frank with me and allow me to give the reader the inside story.’
    ‘Because scandal sells,’ he said wearily.
    ‘It certainly does. But I think there’s a way to tell your story without resorting to vulgar sensationalism.’
    ‘You do?’
    ‘Oh, yes. We need to present the man . The whole man, in all his endearing fallibility. I’m not suggesting we expose feet of clay, simply that we explain exactly why you did what you did. After all, to understand is to forgive.’
    Sholto smile d. ‘That’s what Liz used to say. My first wife. You know, she’s been dead for more than thirty years and I still miss her.’ He shook his head. ‘I was a bastard to her. A complete bastard.’
    I said nothing but my silence must have been eloquent. He shot me a defensive look, then went on quickly. ‘I was going to finish with Meredith. It was only ever meant to be a fling. Nothing serious. Liz understood that, I think. But then she went and died. And I never had the chance to explain.’
    ‘You do now, Mr MacNab. You can explain everything and readers will lap it up.’
    ‘You think so?’
    ‘I do. ’
    ‘Well , you’ve given me a lot to think about, Jenny… Your vision of my book isn’t quite what I had in mind, but I have to admit, I can see the sense in what you say. I mean, one has to compete with