Plain Jane in the Spotlight. Lucy Gordon

will climb to the financial top again. It’s in the Falcon genes. Marcel is like Amos too, except for being half French. He makes his money from hotels. He’s got a big, glamorous place in Paris and he’s recently bought another one in London to “extend his empire”. Amos loves that. To him, that’s how a Falcon should think, in terms of empire.’

      ‘Perhaps you need to play a Roman emperor,’ Charlene mused. ‘How about Julius Caesar?’

      ‘Better still, Nero,’ he said, catching her mood. ‘Or Caligula.’

      ‘But Nero was a tyrant,’ Charlene objected.

      ‘Great. That makes him a true Falcon.’

      ‘And Caligula was mad. Wouldn’t your father hate that?’

      ‘Not if it made money.’

      They laughed together.

      ‘Haven’t you got two other brothers?’

      ‘Yes, there’s Leonid, who’s Russian and lives in Moscow. We don’t know a lot about him, but he must be successful because Amos always speaks of him with respect. Jackson’s different. He’s a naturalist. He’s written books and has a television series about wildlife all over the world.’

      ‘That doesn’t sound like it makes him a millionaire.’

      ‘No, he’s not. But Amos respects him, nonetheless, because the world knows him as a “serious man” doing a “serious job”. I just “flaunt myself for the press”, but Jackson “defends the environment” and that elevates the name Falcon, even if not in business.

      ‘He actually told me once that I should change my name because he didn’t want to be connected with someone “prancing around for the cameras”.’

      ‘Your father doesn’t want you to be called after him?’ she asked, aghast.

      ‘He despises what I do. He was furious when I wouldn’t take a different name.’

      ‘No wonder you feel shut out,’ she said sympathetically.

      ‘Not by the others. I get on fine with my brothers, what little I see of them. But I think Amos is just hanging on in the hope that one day I’ll change into a mini-Amos.’

      ‘You could always act it,’ she suggested.

      ‘Not if I want to stay sane,’ he said hastily. ‘This way, at least I know who I am. Or I would, if people didn’t keep wanting me to put on a performance in private as well as in front of the cameras.’

      ‘You poor soul.’ She sighed. ‘The burdens of fame. Just think of all those unemployed actors out there who must be so grateful they don’t have your problems.’

      He scowled for a moment, but then relaxed and squeezed her hand, smiling ruefully.

      ‘Yeah, right. I must be coming across as a bit of a wimp, eh? It’s your fault. You’re such a tempting, sympathetic shoulder to cry on that I gave in. But no more.’ His voice deepened and he assumed a haughty mien. ‘From now on, just macho authority and stern resolve.’