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by Shalini Boland


  That evening, the Chevaliers and the Swintons reconvened in the sumptuous dark-wood-panelled dining room. A myriad of white stars twinkled in the ocean sky through a hexagonal glass roof. Carved columns, Persian carpets and tropical potted palms added to the feeling of splendour.

  The two families had just enjoyed a delicious leisurely dinner.

  ‘Mmmm, this chocolate orange mousse is absolute heaven,’ Freddie said. He closed his eyes and savoured the taste of his dessert.

  Alexandre tried again to talk to Leonora who sat on his left. She looked stunning in a pale blue satin gown the exact same shade as her eyes, which contrasted beautifully with her milky white skin and raven hair.

  ‘And are you also a fan of chocolate orange mousse?’ he asked with a half smile that usually made any female within a twenty yard radius turn weak at the knees.

  ‘I like it well enough,’ she said, shrugging her pretty shoulders. Then she deliberately turned to her left and began to engage his Papa in conversation, leaving him staring at the back of her perfect head.

  Alexandre was dumfounded. Had he offended her in some way? All evening he had tried to strike up conversations with her, but she had merely nodded or smiled politely. He could not recall saying anything out of order. Isobel sat on his right and she too gave him the cold shoulder. It was just too bad, to be sitting between two females who would not talk to him.

  He caught his mother’s eye. She sat across from him and threw him a sympathetic glance, tilting her head and raising her eyebrows as if to say, what is to be done?

  The entire crossing stayed mainly calm and they only experienced the odd moment of mild sea-sickness. Midway on the crossing they stopped at Valetta, the large dockyard in Malta, to disgorge a few passengers and take on a few more, but soon they steamed back out to sea.

  The air felt noticeably warmer and the atmosphere on ship became more light hearted and fun. But Alexandre’s growing excitement was tinged with confusion. The arrival of Leonora Swinton had greatly unsettled him and he did not know why.

  She was undoubtedly beautiful, sophisticated and interesting, but he had met many other women with these attributes and they had not made him as nervous. She obviously did not care for him greatly – she either ignored him, or made cutting remarks which he did not know how to deal with.

  But why should this trouble him so much? He hardly knew the girl. Could it just be the fact she had not fallen for him? This was the first time Alexandre had been rejected in such a way, but surely he was not so arrogant as to think every female on the planet would instantly worship and adore him? Was he? Actually, he realised he probably was.

  He grinned to himself. Over the past month his record with women had been absolutely abysmal. First, the Lily incident which had led to uproar and instant banishment, followed by his sister’s disgust with him and now the beautiful Leonora Swinton had failed to be won over. Well, he sincerely hoped his bad luck would stop here.

  The shame of it was, they could have passed a very pleasant time conversing with one another instead of all this cold-shoulder nonsense. But she had taken against him for some unknown reason, so he should probably forget any thoughts he might once have entertained.

  Maybe it was all a question of balance. His life had become more exciting and interesting, but his charms had fallen by the wayside. Well alright, he would take the adventure for now and try to work on his relationships. Or maybe he could try a little reverse psychology and ignore both his sister and Leonora. At least this would spare him the constant humiliation of being snubbed. Yes – he would concentrate all his efforts and attention on the trip and ignore these temperamental women.

  *

  There was an excited buzz aboard the Mistral. They would reach their destination today and everyone was out on deck trying to be the first to spot land.

  Out of nothing, a haze of coastline gradually shaped itself into a blurred outline, taking on more definition to finally appear solidly in front of them like an astonishing magic trick.

  Alexandre felt his heart rate speed up as they steamed purposefully forward on the undulating blue Aegean Sea and up the Gulf of Smyrna. As the ship drew closer to port, he enjoyed the un-European sight of red tiled chimneyless roofs and painted balconies, interspersed with the smooth domes and white minarets of a multitude of mosques. Fruit trees and tall cypresses grew everywhere, and behind the city, on top of a craggy mountain, stood the dark walls of a dilapidated ancient fortress.

  ‘Well, children,’ Papa announced. ‘At last we are in Turkey. Let us try to enjoy every minute.’

  ‘Papa,’ Jacques said. ‘May we ride on a camel to get to our hotel?’

  ‘I shouldn’t think so,’ Isobel replied.

  ‘Do not worry, Jacques, the camels will still be here tomorrow,’ Papa replied. ‘We will all need a good rest tonight before we undertake the next part of the journey.’

  Alexandre imagined the exotic sights and sounds he would soon be experiencing. He could not wait to soak up the foreign atmosphere. To start living his dreams.

  Chapter Five

  *

  Mr Vasey-Smith continued talking. ‘I’m afraid the terms of the will are very clear, if you do not actually reside in the property, you will not receive a penny of the inheritance. It will remain in trust, however, for another four years, in case you change your mind, after which time it will pass to the next beneficiary, your brother, Ben, when he reaches sixteen years of age.’

  ‘Well it looks like we’re moving to Gloucestershire, Maddy,’ Trevor interrupted. He turned to Mr Vasey-Smith. ‘What’s this house like? Is it big? Is it in a nice place?’

  Mr Vasey-Smith ignored him. ‘Madison, the decision rests with you and I understand it is a lot to take in. Perhaps you would like time to think about it? Here are the details of the property we have put together for you to look at today.’ He handed her a glossy-looking brochure, which she took without looking at. ‘Would you care to sit in our private lounge and examine it at your leisure? As you will see, the property has continued to be well cared for and maintained during the last century.

  ‘Mr and Mrs Johnson, Ben, I have arranged for a car to take you to lunch in Covent Garden followed by a top West End show of your choice. Perhaps we should give Madison some space to reflect. We can meet back here at 6pm.’ He put an envelope in Trevor’s hand.

  Trevor looked at the contents - some theatre tickets and a thick wad of crisp twenty pound notes.

  Mr Vasey-Smith continued, ‘Madison, is this agreeable with you?’

  Maddy’s mind whirled and span. She would appreciate some time to herself, where no one was talking to her or telling her what to do.

  ‘Yeah … Some space.’

  ‘Fine. Mr Johnson?’ Mr Vasey-Smith rose from his chair and indicated for him to do the same. Trevor didn’t speak. He just waved the envelope in front of Angie’s eyes so she could glimpse the cash inside.

  ‘Oh, a show!’ she said. ‘What a treat. Ben, would you like to see a show? I’ve always wanted to see Billy Elliot.’

  ‘That’s about dancing.’ He didn’t look too impressed. ‘What other ones are there?’

  ‘Should we be leaving Madison here on her own? This is an important day for her.’ Trevor said. He paused and then nodded his head once, as if reaching a decision. ‘Now, Maddy, don’t go deciding anything till we get back. Just do like Mr Vasey-Smith says and have a little time to yourself. We’ll all have a think and then we can sort out what we’re going to do later, once we get back.’

  Maddy gritted her teeth and tried to ignore his patronising, overly friendly tone. He was seriously getting on her nerves. Hadn’t Mr Vasey-Smith told them it was her decision; nothing to do with them. She couldn’t wait for them to leave, so she could think straight.

  ‘Yeah, Trevor. See you later.’

  He looked at her, trying to spot any attitude in her words. But she plastered on a smile and he seemed satisfied.

  ‘Bye, Benny Boy. Have fun watching the
dancing.’

  ‘Shut up, Mads. Gonna see something cool aren’t we, Angie?’

  ‘There’s a list here, Ben. We’ll have a look on the way. You be alright, Maddy?’

  ‘Yes, yes.’

  ‘Alright! Only asking. See you later, love.’

  Mr Vasey-Smith buzzed the receptionist to come and show the Johnsons and Ben out to their car, leaving him and Madison alone in the room. It was only eleven fifteen, but Madison felt like she’d been there for hours. The wall clock ticked faintly.

  ‘Will the house and everything really be mine?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘And living there - that’s my decision too? No one else can decide. I mean, Trevor, he can’t tell me what to do and make me move there or anything?’

  ‘Madison, all of this is about you. Nobody else is involved. Nobody else can make the decision. You are the sole beneficiary ... that is, if you want to be.’

  ‘Right,’ she exhaled.

  ‘If you’ll allow me to suggest something …’

  She nodded.

  ‘Why don’t you take me up on my offer of sitting in the private lounge to look at the details of the house, maybe before you rip them to shreds?’

  She looked down and realised she had twisted the details around in her hands until they were nearly torn in two. She gasped. ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t even realise ...’

  ‘It’s not a problem, don’t worry about it.’ He smiled. ‘Follow me.’

  He led her through another door to a beautifully furnished sitting room with a cream chaise longue, two tan leather armchairs and an oversized flowery sofa. Soft landscapes sat in gilt frames and a huge ornate mirror hung decadently over a carved wooden fireplace. The faint scent of vanilla hung in the air and shafts of diffuse sunlight warmed the room. Heavy pale blue silk curtains billowed in the breeze which floated in from an open sash window above a wrought-iron Juliet balcony.

  It was like no room Madison had ever been in before and she felt an urge to fall into the sofa and close her eyes.

  ‘Please make yourself comfortable. I’ll ask Marilyn to bring you some lunch in about an hour. If you need me, just pick up the phone.’ He pointed to a telephone which sat discreetly on the lower shelf of one of the side tables. There’s a bathroom outside, first door on the right.’

  With that, he deposited the family tree scroll on the table and left the room, closing the door with a soft click.

  Madison put the screwed up details on the table along with her glass of lemonade. She walked over to the open window and looked out. Busy weekend traffic sounds filtered up from the thoroughfare below. Immediately opposite, stood similar buildings to this one: large-windowed stately edifices reeking of power and money. Was she now part of that world?

  A skip of excitement dared to make itself felt in her chest. She wanted to smile, but didn’t know if she could let herself. There had to be a catch, well, there was a catch - moving to the back arse of nowhere, that was the catch. She supposed she should at least look at the details of this place.

  She smoothed out the … well, it was practically a brochure. I mean, what sort of house had its own brochure? Maybe, if she was lucky, it would be in a lively part of the countryside, if there was such a thing, or near a big town. She bounced down onto the sofa, picked up the brochure and couldn’t believe what she was looking at.

  It was an aerial shot of a house, but it wasn’t a house, it was a mansion set in what looked like acres of gardens. Shock hit Madison. She’d had a vague image in her mind of a house like a larger version of Trevor and Angie’s terrace. She realised how far off the mark she was, but then if her ancestor was a millionaire, of course he was going to live in a place like that.

  God, Trevor would wet himself if he saw this. Madison groaned. She really didn’t want to witness his excitement when he saw the brochure. How was she going to deal with him and Angie?

  She turned over the page and saw the house from the front, it was stunning. She began to read: … the charming market town of Tetbury … ‘Marchwood‘, a period property in excellent order … original features, nine bedrooms … games room ... lavishly furnished … extensive grounds … woodland. She looked at photographs which showed rooms not dissimilar to the one she was currently sitting in. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to live there. All that space. Me and Ben could get bikes. We could get a dog, maybe even a horse. We could definitely get one of those massive trampolines, Ben would love that.

  But one thing she did know - she didn’t want Trevor and Angie to be there with them, telling them what to do. Trevor acting like the Lord of the Manor. It would be unbearable. How could she fix it so she and Ben lived there alone? Her mindset had shifted and she realised she might actually, really like to live there.

  Think of the freedom. And it wasn’t as if her school would miss her. She could just leave without telling them and then she’d never have to see any of her teachers again. Or maybe she could go back to school for one more day just to wind Haggis up for the pure fun of it. Now that would be good. She could wear all her most outrageous clothes and snog some fit bloke right outside her window. Haggis would go even more mental than before. But then again, could she really be bothered with all that? Probably not. It just didn’t seem that important anymore.

  The comfort of this room and the beauty of the house in the brochure had completely seduced her. She and Ben could actually live like this all the time. And, countryside or no countryside, there was no way she was ever going to turn down the prospect of sixty one million quid. I mean, who did she think she was kidding?

  The problem was, she had always been so used to fighting against everything that came her way, she couldn’t break the habit. It was an automatic reaction borne out of years of having to battle against the system. Now, when something good actually came her way, she was still fighting, not trusting that anyone else could really have her best interests at heart. But how could she have even thought for a second about turning down this opportunity for her and Ben?

  She’d ask Vasey-Smith how to go about sorting the Trevor and Angie situation. If anyone knew a way, he would. And she could tell he didn’t particularly like Trevor anyway. He’d got rid of him pretty quick-sharpish, packed him off to the West End, no problem. Maddy smiled, thinking of the wad of cash in the envelope - yes, Mr Vasey-Smith knew Trevor all right.

  She spent the next hour studying the photographs in the brochure, trying to imagine herself in the rooms or walking in the gardens. And then she looked, fascinated, at her family tree. Even though her relations were no longer living, it felt amazing to know she came from somewhere. These names on the paper were her ancestors and one of them had actually left her everything he owned. It was nothing less than a miracle.

  She allowed herself another small smile and hugged herself excitedly. This was it, the start of her real life.

  A light knock on the door interrupted her thoughts and a young woman came in with a tray. On it was a fancy chicken salad, some funny bread rolls and some fruit and chocolates. Maddy was starving, she hadn’t realised how hungry until she’d seen the food. She would speak to Mr Vasey-Smith after she’d eaten.

  Trevor, Angie and Ben bustled back into the offices of Hamilton Blythe at 6.20pm. A secretary showed them back up to the conference room where Maddy and Mr Vasey-Smith waited. Their cheeks were flushed and they were laden down with shopping bags.

  ‘Mads, it was mint!’ Ben said. ‘You should’ve come, you’d’ve loved it. We saw the Lion King. You’ve got to see it.’

  ‘It was fantastic, love,’ Angie agreed. ‘Pity you had to stay here.’

  ‘That’s okay. Glad it was good.’

  ‘So,’ said Trevor, rubbing his hands together. ‘What’s the scores on the doors? We moving to the country? Any decisions been made or what?’

  Maddy’s nerves kicked in, but Mr Vasey-Smith had assured her he would handle everything He worked for her now.

  ‘Yes, a decision has been reached,’ the solicitor answe
red. ‘Madison has decided she would very much like to move to her new home in Gloucestershire with Ben.’

  ‘Nice one, Madison,’ Trevor smiled. ‘Let’s have a butcher’s at our new place then? Where’s these details?’ He sat down at the conference table and drummed his fingers on the wooden surface. Everyone else was still standing.

  ‘Mr Johnson, Madison and Ben will be moving to Gloucestershire on their own. There are a couple of trusted retainers there who will look after all their needs.’

  ‘Now, hold on a minute …’ Trevor’s smile disappeared and he stood up again.

  ‘They’re just a couple of kids!’ Angie said, her face flushed. ‘They need us, we‘re their foster parents.’

  Trevor put a hand on her arm. ‘I’ll handle this, Ange.’ He turned to the solicitor and pointed to himself with his two forefingers. ‘We are their legal guardians and there is no way they are moving out of our care. Over my dead body, in fact.’

  ‘Excuse me,’ Madison said. ‘I am still here you know.’

  ‘Maddy, this posh bloke is trying to get one over on us. Thinks because he went to private school, he can treat people like dirt. Well, we’ve put a roof over your heads for three years and if you think you can walk out on us now you’ve got a ton of cash in the bank … well ...’

  ‘Trevor,’ Maddy replied. ‘It’s my decision, not yours or his. No one’s trying to get anything over on anyone. I’ve had a pretty crap life up till now and this is mine and Ben’s chance for a better life.’

  ‘Well thanks a lot!’ Angie exclaimed. ‘’Crap life’ is it? Me and Trevor have tried our best. I know our place isn’t a fancy house in the country, but at least we took you in and we’ve put up with a hell of a lot. You’ve been quite a little madam to live with.’

  ‘I didn’t mean that,’ Madison took a deep breath. ‘I meant, I’ve got no real family or place of my own …’

  ‘Let’s all calm down a bit.’ Mr Vasey-Smith interrupted.

 

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