The Heirloom Obsession

by SD Saunders

  Turning, I made to run to the gardens to escape the words still ringing in my ears, and bumped straight into Philip. He looked straight at me and then the French doors knowing instantly I had overheard. His pompous, overbearing look of glee made my skin crawl. He pointed his cane at me. “Well, well, my dear cousin finally realised what a thieving scoundrel your stable boy is”, he crowed at me, repetitiously rubbing his cane’s silver lion head handle. “He only ever wanted you to line his own pockets. I guess the emerald heirloom was too much for him to resist, stealing it from around your neck and then leaving you for dead, and on your birthday”, his scornful voice still rings in my ears.

  I insisted that Jack wouldn’t do that, he just couldn’t, I pleaded but this just seemed to make him more insistent.

  “Oh but he did, dear cousin and your father cannot pursue him for fear of humiliation and ruining your reputation. After all, it was your involvement in a secret rendezvous with this scoundrel that gave him the opportunity; he didn’t stick around, did he? If innocent, he would have, you silly little girl. If he cared one little bit for you, he would have been at your side”.

  He raised his cane, his face contorted in rage and for one awful moment, I thought he would strike me, but just as quickly his face changed to concern, a smile on his lips, his eyes darting past me. I turned to see father approaching. “Do not speak of this to your father, he has been hurt by your silly antics enough”, he growled at me, and on seeing father’s white drawn face as he approached, I had no choice but to concede. How I made it to my room without letting my tears fall, I still do not know but knowing Jack has left me and stolen the necklace seems too much to bear. Maybe that’s why I still can’t remember; my doctor says some memories are too painful for the mind to tolerate and so we simply block them out. I re-read the note arranging for Jack and I to meet that evening and I cannot deny what Philip has said. My heart is broken, but Philip is right on one thing. I cannot cause father and mother any more pain, so will try my best to compose myself for them. I will not speak of Jack again. I will be the perfect daughter and hopefully one day my heart will heal”.

  Christina

  Melody closed the journal, tears in her eyes for Christina’s plight. If Jack had stolen the necklace, how had it ended up inside a secret pocket of the gown? Frowning at unanswered questions swirling around in her head, Melody placed the journal back into her bag and headed out of the coffee house.

  The afternoon in the shop dragged on and by closing time, Melody felt relief to be heading home. As she locked up, Rick chatted to her about the day, his quick check of her car and the familiar surrounding area feeling strange to her over wrought mind.

  “So once I’ve seen you safely inside the cottage, I’ll be stationed outside in the car till Alex returns”, he informed her as he opened the door to her car.

  “Sure thing and Rick”, she hesitated as he leaned in, “thank you”. He nodded and gently closed her car door.

  Standing under the powerful shower, Melody felt the day’s tensions easing, as the water sluiced over her tired body. The call to Alex from the coffee house re-played over in her mind, his concerned voice reassuring her that he would investigate this new lead and reminding her to be safe and to keep Rick close. Smiling, as memories of his concern washed over her, he really did seem to care. It was a lovely feeling to be cared for, she mused. Cutting the water off and wrapping her towel securely around herself, she grabbed her pile of clothes and headed to her room.

  They would be driving to Christina’s home later and she felt excitement build as she opened her wardrobe to select something to wear. Pulling a dove grey jersey dress out, she had bought this dress on a whim, it was so unlike her usual attire. She ran her hand over the ever so soft material, holding it up to herself, she smiled. Yes, this would be perfect, for meeting Christina. Once dressed she pulled her curls into a high ponytail and applied a touch of makeup. Adding a pale pink belt and matching ballet pumps to finish the look. A simple gold necklace with a star pendant the only jewellery she wore nestling at the hollow in her neck. Melody gazed at herself, the knee length dress clung to her curves, revealing her slim legs. Doubt crept over her; maybe she should wear something else. She glanced back at her wardrobe biting her lip, the doorbell ringing pulled Melody from her thoughts. Grabbing a pair of delicate gold star earrings, she started to put them in as she hurried down the stairs.

  Flinging the front door open, Alex’s frame filled the space. “No safety chain on, Mel”, he admonished, his lop-sided grin softening his words as he squinted, the sunlight temporarily blinding him.

  “Oh, I forgot”, she grimaced, standing back to allow him in. Closing the door, she turned to him. His eyes now focused on her jersey clad body, she felt herself blushing.

  “You look beautiful”, his low growl of approval making her glad she hadn’t changed her dress. Taking a step closer, he reached out and pulled her into his arms, the smell of his aftershave and soap intoxicating her senses, his charcoal trousers and suit jacket bringing out the blue in his eyes. Resting a hand on his chest, Melody felt his strong heartbeat beneath the crisp white shirt. The first three buttons open, revealing a sprinkling of dark hair.

  “You look good too”, she muttered, reaching up to trace his strong jaw. Bending his head down, he captured her lips hungrily, parting them to explore inside, a low moan escaping her lips as he stepped back.

  “I’ve booked us a table at Bella Aroma”, he smiled down at her, tucking an escaped curl behind her ear. Glancing at his watch, he added. “After that, I thought we’d drive to Christina’s to introduce ourselves. I phoned her this afternoon and she was quite intrigued to meet us”. Smoothing her hands over her hips, she stepped back. “Let me just check on Toby and grab my bag”. Reluctantly, he stepped aside as she made her way past him and towards the kitchen.

  Alex parked his ford SUV close to the restaurant’s exit. She smiled at his choice. “Quick getaway”, she laughed as they walked into the restaurant. He quirked his eyebrow at her teasing and playfully smacked her bottom. “You never know, little minx”, he donned a look of conspiracy, which sent her into a fit of giggles.

  Seated in a secluded booth at the back of the restaurant, Melody looked over the menu as Alex ordered her a white wine and a sparkling water for himself, his deep voice settling her overly anxious nerves.

  “What do you fancy”, he asked as his hooded eyes roved over her face. You, she thought, biting her lip as she tried to concentrate on the menu.

  “I’ll have the creamy Tagliatelle and meatballs, it sounds nice”, she smiled up at the waiter and closed her menu.

  “Make that two”, Alex announced to the waiter. As he headed away with their order, Alex leaned in taking a sip of his water. “So Mel, did you bring the journal to show Christina”?

  “I did”, she nodded, tapping her bag beside her.

  “Good, she will probably want to see it. Her name’s Christina Alexander Trafford now; she has three children, two boys, Luke and Peter, and a girl, Elizabeth. Her husband died last year from a stroke. Her eldest son Luke, has recently had Trafford manor refurbished and modernised, hence the estate sale, but that’s as much as I know”. He sat back, watching Melody’s face as emotions played across it.

  “I wonder if they knew the trunk they sold included Christina’s journals. I was thinking of giving it back to her, after all, it is rightfully hers”, she spoke so quietly, he had to lean in closer to hear.

  “If that’s what you want, although I will confirm with her that the necklace will be returned to her after the gala. After all, we need it to flush out the thief for her sake as much as ours”.

  Melody nodded. “When will the paper run the story”?

  Alex lowered his voice. “The story runs in tomorrow’s edition. We will, of course let Christina know that as well”.

  “And at least then, I won’t need my bodyguard”.

  “We’ll see”, Alex sighed.

  The waiter appeared at that
moment, stopping any further discussion, placing their plates in front of them. Melody eyed her meal, her appetite suddenly deserting her.

  “Mm, it’s good”, Alex murmured appreciatively, scooping up another meatball. Swirling some pasta around her fork, Melody glanced across at Alex, his twinkling grey-blue eyes holding hers. He looked so carefree and happy, she could not help but smile; his mood was infectious.

  They were both silent on the drive to Christina’s. Leaving the busy town, they were soon driving down country lanes with fields of green, some with cattle grazing as far as the eye could see. As they approached a small lane, Alex slowed the SUV and turned in. The winding lane seemed to envelop them, its towering trees on either side, making it feel more like a tunnel. After what seemed like forever, they came to a stop at the end of the lane. A pair of black wrought iron gates stood shut, barring the way. Alex hopped out and walked over to the intercom. A moment later, the big gates whirred to life, slowly opening to permit them entrance.

  Shifting in his seat, he reached out his hand to caress Melody’s cheek. “Here we go Mel, ready”?

  “Ready as I’ll ever be”, she gulped. “Let’s do this”, she spoke, trying to sound confident.

  “That’s my girl, just remember, I’ll be right by your side”. Slipping the SUV in gear, they headed up the winding driveway. The palatial home loomed ahead of them, its white walls and columns glinting orange hues as the sunset washed over it.

  Stepping out onto the cobbled stone circular driveway, Melody made her way towards the fountain. She had seen it as they had driven up the drive. Taking a closer look, the two stone dolphins entwined as if in mid jump, water spouting from their mouths. She glanced up at Alex as he reached her side. “Beautiful, isn’t it”, she sighed, trailing her fingers in the clear water.

  “Mm, beautiful”, Alex said, looking into her eyes. She smiled shyly at him; he always did this to her, made her feel she was the only thing he could see. “Let’s go say hello”, he murmured, wrapping his arm around her shoulders and leading her around the fountain to the steps of the entrance and the large glass filled front door. As Alex pressed the brass bell, the high pitched ring seemed to echo through Melody. She leaned in a little closer to Alex; his response a gentle squeeze was all she needed. Movement inside the door caught her attention; just then as the door opened, a plump lady with rosy cheeks stood looking out at them.

  “Christina um Lady Alexander ‘Trafford”, Alex asked.

  She shook her head. “No, I’m Anne, is she expecting you”?

  “I spoke to her on the phone earlier today. I’m Alex Knight and this is Melody Croft”, he motioned towards Melody. Melody watched as the lady’s face softened and smiled at them, rubbing her hands on her apron.

  “Oh yes, come on in, she’s been expecting you”, she muttered, standing back to let them pass.

  Leading them through a grand hallway, her black court shoes silent on the high shine marble floor, walking around a stunning curved duel staircases, a large chandelier hanging directly above it picking out the gold fleur-de-lis pattern in the royal blue carpet lining the stairs, its magnificence not lost on Melody as she romanticised walking down one side of it, dressed in a gown running her fingers over the highly polished mahogany handrail with Alex waiting for her at the bottom dressed in a tux. “Here we are”, Anne’s voice jerked Melody back from her daydream as she briskly ushered them into a spacious room.

  “Lady Alexander ‘Trafford, your guests, Mr Knight and Ms Croft”, she announced, sweeping her arm towards them.

  “Thank you Anne”. Turning to her guests, she beckoned them in. “Please take a seat”, she motioned for them to sit. Taking a seat on a large ivory coloured baroque sofa that Lady Alexander ‘Trafford had indicated to them, Melody felt the cool silk against the backs of her legs making her unconsciously pull at the hem of her dress.

  “Would you care for some tea”, she asked looking from Melody to Alex.

  “That would be lovely, Lady Alexander ‘Trafford”, Alex accepted, as he rested back on the sofa.

  “Oh, please call me Christina”, she smiled at him.

  “Well, it’s nice to meet you Christina, I’m Alex”, pausing, he flicked a glance at Melody, “and this is Melody. She’s the one who purchased your old trunk and found the journals”.

  Christina’s eyes flicked to where Anne still stood hovering. “We’ll have that tea now, please Anne”.

  As Melody looked around the room, the glass windows reflected the glow of several lamps scattered around, mingling with the orangey hues of the sunset bathing the room in a warm glow. Huge pot plants strategically placed on each side of the doors, the same baroque style coffee table in the centre perched on a gold and cream silk Indian rug, enhancing the gold of the woodwork on the sofas and table, its opulence radiating over Melody. Turning her attention to Christina who was sitting regally on a smaller baroque sofa, her small frame encased in a soft oatmeal coloured cashmere sweater and skirt, her silver grey hair pinned up in a chignon, a simple pearl necklace and matching earrings her only accessories.

  “Ah, there you are, Anne”, Christina’s greeting pulled Melody back from her musings, “there will be fine, thank you”, she pointed towards the coffee table as Anne placed the tea tray down, the fine bone china tea set clinking gently. When Anne left, she turned to her guests. “Well, I must say I was surprised when I got your call. Of course I knew my son organised the estate sale, but I never once thought about my old gowns or journals turning up”. Pausing, she poured the tea. “Help yourselves to milk and sugar”, she smiled, waving her hand at the tray.

  Melody reached into her bag and pulled out the journal. “Here’s the journal we mentioned, there were three of them”, she said handing over the journal to Christina. “I was burgled and the thief took the other two, but luckily I had that one with me”.

  Turning the pages of the journal, Christina’s eyes misted, a gentle sigh escaping. “It’s been so long since I’ve seen this”. Taking the letters out, she lovingly opened them. “So long”, she sighed again.

  “Did you ever see Jack again”? Melody asked, leaning forward, gazing at the far off look in Christina’s eyes.

  “No, he never did come back”, waving at the letters, she added, “after my party it came to light that he had stolen something valuable from me, an heirloom. My father and mother would never speak of it, and when he sent this other letter, they hid it from me for years. When I discovered the letter, it was too late; my father was ill and I was newly married. I couldn’t bring myself to re-open those old wounds; I never will understand why he sent it”.

  “Did you ever regain your memories”? Alex asked, his voice soft.

  “Some but nothing of consequence”, she sighed, as her shoulders slumped slightly.

  “When I was unpicking your gown, I found a hidden pocket”. Melody paused, looking into Christina’s watery eyes. “I found an emerald and diamond necklace, was that what you thought Jack had stolen”?

  “Was it a g-gold gown”? Christina stammered, her eyes wide with shock.

  “Yes it was”, Melody nodded.

  Collapsing back onto the sofa, Christina raised her hand to her head, fingering a faint white scar on her forehead. “I have visions of that gown. I could never quite capture the memory, but I must have put it there. Oh god, Jack was innocent”, she gasped, the letters falling to the floor.

  Melody quickly went to her, kneeling down, retrieving the letters and placing them on the coffee table. Taking Christina’s frail hands in her own, “I’m so sorry”, she breathlessly stated, squeezing Christina’s hands.

  “It’s okay dear, just...”, she stopped mid-sentence, frowning at Alex as he picked up the letters and studied them, his frown deepening. “W-what’s wrong”, she stuttered, her green eyes sharply focused on his face.

  “These letters, you say Jack penned them both”?

  “Yes, what of it”?

  Waving the letters, he looked at Melody. “It’s ju
st they are both so different. I never noticed this before, the note requesting you meet on the eve of your party is in bold swirling script, while the other letter is in small cursive handwriting, so different”, he paused handing them the letters to inspect, “something seems off to me”, he stated rubbing his jaw.

  “I never compared them before, but if he didn’t write one or both, who did”? Christina asked, looking uncertainly at them.

  “I think whoever wants this necklace is playing a very devious game, the later letter with Jack’s full name and address in the corner”, he pointed at it, “I believe to be real that there was indeed a Jack Turner living at that address at the time it was written. The note on the eve of your party, however, I believe was not written by him”. Pausing, he looked between the two of them. “I think it was written by somebody you know, and was deliberately used to lure you away from the party to steal the necklace and set Jack up”.

  “But they never got the necklace, did they”? Melody mused aloud.

  “No, but they let Jack take the fall to cover themselves, and I’m sure whoever is after it now knows all about it, and thinks the journals hold the key to finding it”.

  “W-what will we do”, Christina croaked, her hands shaking.

  Melody gently rubbed her hand on Christina’s hands. “It’s okay, please don’t fret. We have a plan”, she soothed, looking to Alex for help.

  For the next half hour, Alex filled Christina in on the plans, explaining about the newspaper article being published the following day and the gala they would attend, with Melody wearing the necklace to flush out the thief with Christina’s permission. With her heartfelt plea to be safe and not take unnecessary risks, she agreed to the plan. After assuring her of the safety precautions and promising to keep her informed, Alex assured her that they would do all they could to exonerate Jack.

  As they made to leave, Alex stopped in the entranceway. Grabbing a notebook and pen from his jacket pocket and writing his number down, he smiled reassuringly at Christina. “If you think of anything or need help in anyway, don’t hesitate to call me anytime”. Placing the number in her hands, he reiterated, “Anytime”.