Sister to Sister

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by Olivia Hayfield




  Olivia Hayfield is the pen name of British author Sue Copsey. Sue is usually to be found in her office editing other people’s books, while Olivia is likely to be in her writing hut at the bottom of the garden, wondering what well-known historical characters would be like if they were alive today.

  Sue worked for several years as a press officer at London Zoo, and then became an editor at Dorling Kindersley UK. She and her husband later moved to New Zealand, where Sue continues to work in publishing. She is also the author of several children’s books, including The Ghosts of Tarawera, which received a Notable Book Award from the Storylines Children’s Literature Trust of New Zealand. Wife After Wife was her first adult novel.

  Sue lives in Auckland with her husband and two children.

  Also by Olivia Hayfield

  Wife After Wife

  Sister to Sister

  Olivia Hayfield

  History repeats

  P I A T K U S

  First published in Great Britain in 2021 by Piatkus Copyright © Sue Copsey 2021

  Lyrics from ‘Woodstock’ written by Joni Mitchell, © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC.

  The moral right of the author has been asserted.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted,

  in any form or by any means, without the prior permission in writing of the publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

  ISBN: 978-0-349-42332-6

  Piatkus

  Little, Brown Book Group Carmelite House

  50 Victoria Embankment London EC4Y 0DZ

  www.littlebrown.co.uk www.hachette.co.uk

  For Helena

  Not quite as red, but just as feisty

  Cast of Characters

  The Rose family

  HARRY ROSE

  King Henry VIII

  Billionaire head of media giant Rose Corp (retired – in theory). Still a devilishly handsome charmer.

  CLARE ROSE

  Catherine Parr

  Fifth wife of Harry Rose. Kind and wise. Harry’s rock.

  ELIZA ROSE

  Queen Elizabeth I, the Virgin Queen

  Daughter of Harry Rose and his second wife, Ana. English student at Oxford. Smart and vivacious with a jealous streak. Weakness for glamorous men, but won’t let them physically close.

  MARIA ROSE

  Queen Mary I, Bloody Mary

  Daughter of Harry Rose and his first wife, Katie. Acting CEO at Rose Corp. Strict Catholic; lacks people skills. Troubled.

  EDDIE ROSE

  King Edward VI

  Son of Harry Rose and his third wife, Janette. Schoolboy at Eton. A fine, wholesome young man.

  Eliza’s Oxford friends

  WILL BARDINGTON

  William Shakespeare

  Gifted English literature student. Active in Drama and Poetry Societies. A drama queen.

  KIT MARLEY

  Christopher Marlowe

  Studying English with Will and Eliza. Androgynous, wildly creative, enigmatic. In touch with his dark side.

  FRANKIE MALLARD

  Sir Francis Drake;

  explorer, first ship’s captain to circumnavigate the globe

  Geography student. A keen sailor.

  LEIGH WALTERS

  Sir Walter Raleigh;

  explored the New World, bringer of tobacco and potatoes

  Economics student. Heavy smoker.

  Rose staff and board members

  JOHN STUDLEY

  John Dudley, Duke of Northumberland

  Crony of Harry Rose; trustee of Eddie Rose. Ex-Army, has grand ambitions for sons Gil and Rob.

  ROB STUDLEY

  Robert Dudley, Earl of Leicester

  Editorial assistant at Rose Corp; childhood playmate of Eliza. Good-looking metrosexual; an exuberant, twinkly-eyed charmer.

  TERRI ROBBINS-MORE

  Sir Thomas More

  Fearsome editor of The Rack; long-time friend and colleague of Harry Rose. Takes a special interest in Eliza. Nickname: Cruella.

  CECIL WALSHAM

  William Cecil/Francis Walsingham; chief advisor/principal secretary to Elizabeth I

  Consultant and later Chief Operating Officer at Rose Corp. Reliable, all-knowing, wise, patient. Harry’s spy.

  FRANCESCA ‘CHESS’ LISLE

  Lady Jane Grey

  Eliza’s cousin – daughter of Harry’s sister Megan; board member. Progressive, well-educated, feminist. Dating Gil Studley.

  SEYMOUR MORRISSEY

  Sir Thomas Seymour, Baron Seymour of Sudely

  Brother of Harry’s third wife, Janette; Eliza’s step-uncle. Trustee of Eddie Rose. Charismatic, with a dark side.

  RICH MORRISSEY

  Edward Seymour, Duke of Somerset

  Janette’s other brother; also a trustee of Eddie’s.

  ANGELO ‘RIZZ’ RIZZIO

  David Rizzio

  Adorable young production assistant at Rose Corp. Sings while he works.

  Rose relatives

  MACKENZIE ‘MAC’ JAMES

  Mary, Queen of Scots

  Daughter of Harry’s older sister, Margot James. Strikingly attractive, strong-willed, ambitious. Questionable taste in men.

  MARGOT JAMES

  Margaret Tudor;

  married King James IV of Scotland

  Humourless older sister of Harry Rose. Holds one-third of Rose shares. Lives in a Scottish castle; shoots things.

  MEGAN LISLE

  Mary Tudor;

  sister of Henry VIII

  Harry Rose’s younger sister, married to his best friend Charles.

  CHARLES LISLE

  Charles Brandon, Duke of Suffolk

  Harry’s best friend and brother-in-law. A retired banker.

  HELENA LISLE

  Eleanor Brandon

  Eliza’s cousin; second daughter of Megan Lisle; an artist.

  HENRY ‘STU’ BLUNT

  Henry Fitzroy/Henry Stuart (Lord Darnley)

  Son of Harry Rose and his mistress Bennie Blunt. Grew up in Australia. A loose cannon – wild, drinks a lot and avoids work. A bitter man.

  And the rest . . .

  PHIL SEVILLE

  King Philip of Spain

  Billionaire head of US Christian media company Hapsburg Inc. Right-wing fundamentalist. A snake.

  AMY HART

  Amy Dudley, née Robsart

  Rob Studley’s sweet, shy partner. A nurse. Often sad.

  HAMISH EARLE

  James Hepburn, Earl of Bothwell

  A Scottish financier. Old friend of Mackenzie James. Corrupt, with shadowy contacts.

  CASSANDRA LISLE

  no Tudor equivalent

  First wife of Charles Lisle; a recovered alcoholic. Runs a wellness retreat in Wales.

  ANDRE SOKOLOV

  no Tudor equivalent

  Russian billionaire and owner of Premier League football team. An evil man with no moral compass.

  I would rather be a beggar and single than a queen and married.

  ELIZABETH I (1533–1603)

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

&nb
sp; Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  Chapter 49

  Chapter 50

  Chapter 51

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgements

  Readers Guide – Questions for discussion

  The history behind the characters . . . A Q & A with Olivia Hayfield

  Chapter 1

  Eliza

  ‘Bloody Maria,’ said Terri. She took a savage bite of her apple and frowned at a bunch of high-spirited students gliding past in a punt.

  Eliza was about to ask what her sister had done now, when the punter, a tall, rangy young man with a mop of chocolate-coloured curls, spotted them picnicking under a willow tree and yelled, ‘Hey! Eliza Rose! Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day? Thou art more lovely and—’ He waved to attract her attention, lost his grip on the pole and fell over the side with a splash.

  As the squealing girls hauled him back in, Eliza doubled over with laughter. ‘Oh my god,’ she spluttered. ‘That was so on purpose. He’s such a drama queen.’

  ‘ . . . rough winds do shake the darling buds of May!’ the young man finished. He shook his head like a dog, fished out his pole, stood back up and gave an elaborate bow.

  ‘Who the fuck was that?’ asked Terri as the punt drifted away down the Cherwell.

  ‘Will Bardington. He’s in my English tutorial group. I love him. Sorry, what were you saying about Bloody Maria?’

  Terri regarded Eliza for a moment. ‘Part of me wants to just leave you in peace to enjoy your clichéd Oxford experience, even though it’s a load of balls and punts, but the other part thinks I should keep you up to speed with what your psycho sister’s up to. After all, you’re going to have to come and restore sanity at some point.’

  ‘What’s she done now?’

  ‘More on the tedious theme of cleaning up Rose publications, especially the women’s mags. Hooray!’s Hot Bod of the Month is no more. Shame. It was an institution. And this week she took issue with a Celebrity Cellulite Secrets piece. Labelled it “body shaming”, but it’s just an excuse to ban exposed flesh.’

  ‘But that stuff’s totally par for the course,’ said Eliza.

  ‘That’s precisely why she’s pissed off. She’s on a mission to change British magazine culture. It seems Rose will be spearheading the charge out of the cesspit of paparazzi crap. The Telegraph’s calling her the Clean-up Queen.’

  ‘Maybe she should have stuck with Human Resources,’ said Eliza. Before their father Harry Rose’s forced early retirement, Maria had headed up Rose Corp’s @People. Now she was Acting CEO.

  ‘Yup. Should never have been allowed near editorial policy. Gotta say, I miss your dad. He wasn’t a fan of sleaze, but he let the teams draw their own lines. Was very much hands-off. Apart from with your mum, of course. More hands-on with her.’

  Eliza looked sideways at Terri, but she was gazing steadily ahead, her eyes hidden behind enormous sunglasses. She and Eliza’s mother, Ana, had been great friends, and Eliza knew Terri’s continuing mentorship was mostly to do with honouring Ana’s memory. Terri and Eliza also knew more than anyone else about the true facts surrounding Ana’s death. More, that is, apart from Harry Rose, and the Russian billionaire Andre Sokolov.

  Eliza leaned back, supporting herself on her elbows. The May sun shone through the willow fronds, throwing dancing spots of dappled light onto the tartan blanket. In front of them, mayflies dipped into the water, creating tiny ripples and rings. Swallows swooped low, snapping up insects, and dragonflies zipped about and hovered.

  From some distant ice cream van, the tinkle of ‘Greensleeves’ blew across on the breeze.

  ‘Dad still won’t talk about Mum,’ said Eliza, popping a grape into her mouth. ‘He always changes the subject when I ask about her.’

  ‘He’ll get there,’ said Terri. ‘But back to Maria. A word in her ear might help, before she does too much damage. Remind her she’s meant to be running the big picture stuff past you, as per the arrangement with Harry.’

  ‘Not sure she’d take a blind bit of notice, to be honest.’

  ‘Give it a try – otherwise I’ll have to speak to the board about reining her in. Mia’s considering resigning.’

  ‘Oh no,’ said Eliza. Hooray’s editor had been with Rose for decades.

  ‘She still hasn’t got over Harry’s departure,’ said Terri. ‘Any more of this and she’ll spit the dummy and leave. And you can be sure Maria would recruit a replacement who’d back her clean-up campaign. If we’re not careful, we’ll end up with a bunch of 1950s Good Housekeeping clones.’

  As Eliza enjoyed the bucolic scene, she couldn’t work up any enthusiasm for being back in London, even if only for a short while. Late spring in Oxford was so seductive. The ancient, venerable feel of it all – the mellow stone colleges, the dreaming spires, the water meadows; the spirits of all those great minds passing on the academic torch.

  Terri was right – she was a cliché. But in a way, this made her appreciate her good fortune all the more. She was aware of how lucky she was to be living this life. Never before had she had friends who inspired her like her fellow students did. When she was with them, anything seemed possible; they could – and would – change the world. Friends like Will Bardington and Kit Marley from her tutorial group, bursting with creativity. Frankie Mallard (Geography) and Leigh Walters (Economics), her closest female friends.

  Conversely, Eliza’s relationship with her half-sister, ten years her senior, was tricky at best, often fraught. If Eliza’s new friends were shining lights, Maria was a shadow.

  ‘Maybe Dad could talk to her.’ So I don’t have to.

  ‘I thought the idea was to keep Harry at arm’s length.’

  Eliza sighed. ‘True.’

  Harry’s daughters, and his wife Clare, had ‘persuaded’ him to step down from Rose Corp after revelations in the press about his affairs over the years, and his treatment of two of his wives. They believed he was at least partly to blame for Ana’s and Caitlyn’s deaths, and that he’d never clear his troubled conscience unless he accepted responsibility.

  Harry and Clare were currently sailing the South Pacific on Harry’s super-yacht Janette. On his video calls home, Eliza sensed he was relieved to be out of the public eye after his downfall, but that his exile was hurting badly. Rose Corp was his life, his identity.

  Tough. He still remained tight-lipped on the subject of Ana, particularly on her death, and Eliza couldn’t let it go. It felt unresolved; it niggled away at her, and she couldn’t help prodding it, like a person worrying a painful tooth. She loved her father dearly, but his refusal to open up on the subject of her mother was exasperating.

  ‘OK,’ she said. ‘I’ll call Maria tonight. And I’ll be back at Rose in the summer vacation. Maybe on The Rack again?’

  ‘Does it for me,’ said Terri.

  ‘Great! I love working for you.’

  ‘Christ, that’s a first,’ said Terri. ‘Must do something about my soft spot. Can’t be seen to be mellowing in my old age.’

  Eliza knew it was all bluster. Terri Robbins-More’s management style was notoriously tyrannical, but to writers, editors and designers, a job on The Rack, Britain’s most-awarded magazine, was the stuff of career dreams.

  Eliza wondered how old Te
rri actually was. She guessed about the same age as Dad – mid-fifties. When her hair had started to turn grey, she’d dyed her swept-over fringe white, and the rest back to her natural black. ‘Your mum called me Cruella,’ she’d told Eliza, ‘so think of it as a tribute to her.’

  ‘Your cousin’s starting at Rose this summer, too,’ said Terri. ‘Came in for an interview. Considering the silver spoon wedged in her entitled millennial mouth, she doesn’t seem too annoying.’

  ‘Chess?’ Francesca Lisle was the daughter of Harry’s younger sister, Megan. ‘She’s cool. Very smart. Maybe she could work with you?’

  ‘Nepotism may be accepted practice at Rose, but I prefer to choose my team based on talent and experience, not on who their bloody uncle is and how many shares they have.’

  ‘But you didn’t mind having me around?’

  ‘Any complicity in that arrangement was down to your dearly departed mother’s memory. Although I’ll grant you’re acceptably talented. But my benevolence does not extend to cousins. So no. Cousin Chess can look elsewhere. And maybe you should park yourself with Maria, keep an eye on her extremist tendencies. Offer to be an extra PA, or something.’

  ‘She wouldn’t want that.’

  Eliza and Maria’s work relationship was built on eggshell-thin foundations. They’d rubbed along during Eliza’s recent stint at Rose, thanks to a shared need to demonstrate to Harry and others on the board that they were capable heirs to the business. Eliza had been right behind Maria’s equality and ethics goals, although, from what Terri was saying, those goals seemed to have shifted significantly, from worthy to reactionary.

 

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