by Polly Carter
He grimaced to himself as his mind went over and over the problem but he couldn’t see a solution other than the one he’d articulated to himself. No amount of wheedling on his mother’s part was going to convince him that he had an obligation to marry Tina for her money. He loved Pearl and he wasn’t going to lose her but, and his gut tightened at the thought, he didn’t know if he would be able to live with himself if his plan was rejected, he walked away and the business crumbled through lack of expert leadership. He’d seen his mother suffer before; he didn’t want to be the cause of additional suffering. His hand thumped the steering wheel. He was the only one who could protect her. Damn Alan! It should be his job, but he’d made it clear when he’d started dating Linda that after three ex-wives had fleeced him of all they could, his money was locked away and not to share. Linda hadn’t minded. At the time, she had enough of her own and wasn’t about to share it with anyone else either, including Alan should the need arise.
Marcus suspected Linda hadn’t told Alan about Holding Corporations current crisis. He briefly wondered if he should, but decided against it. This was family business, and as yet Alan wasn’t family. He hadn’t proposed to Linda, and Marcus was unsure of his intentions. He would feel he was betraying his mother if he went behind her back; if she wanted Alan to know, she would tell him herself.
For the rest of tonight, though, all he wanted to think about was Pearl. He’d been missing her terribly and was desperate to wrap her in his arms and tell her he wanted to move into the flat and be there when she returned from the farm. He wouldn’t think about his family. That could wait. Tonight he would lose himself in Pearl. But the moment he opened the front door he could sense something was wrong. Switching on a light, he hurried through to the bedroom. The bed was empty, her teddy bear, Rusty, and Moppy were gone, and in their place lay the dress, the diamond choker and a note. He picked it up and his heart sank as he read Goodbye, Marcus. I’ve taken all I want. I’m catching a taxi to a hotel and will be on the 10 a.m. bus home tomorrow. I’ll be at the bus station at 9:45 if you want to see me before I leave.
As his eyes flicked over the note, he pulled his phone from his pocket and called her. It went straight to voicemail. He rang again, but it was pointless. She wasn’t going to answer. He left a garbled message asking her where she was and to call him, but without any real hope that she would. What could he do? How could he find her? There was no point ringing Jack or Mary. He doubted they would know anything and, if he rang, he’d only worry them. He reread the note. She’d covered her tracks to prevent him finding her tonight, so he had no choice but to wait till morning and go to the bus station. Curling himself up on the bed, his arms achingly empty, he steeled himself for a long night.
By nine o’clock the following morning he was already waiting at the bus station in case she was early. He bought himself a coffee and paced to and fro in the waiting room, taking his phone out every few minutes in case she contacted him. He’d tried calling her, but she wasn’t letting him get through. Alternating between anger and misery, he tried to understand why she was doing this to him. His mother must be involved somehow, but Pearl wouldn’t, couldn’t be punishing him for something his mother said or did, could she?
And then he saw her walking towards him. He frowned. She was different somehow, her back was that bit straighter, her head that bit higher. He rushed to her.
“Pearl! Baby! Where have you been? What’s going on?”
Snatching her into his arms, he had time to see the pain flash across her face before her mouth set hard in grim determination.
“Where have you been? What are you doing?” he asked again, scanning her face for an explanation. “Why are you catching the bus home, baby? I have my car. I’m taking you.”
Pearl wriggled from his grasp and faced him squarely.
“No, Marcus,” she said firmly. “It’s over. I’m leaving and going home. For good. I’ll send Marcie my resignation effective immediately. You can do what you like with what’s in the flat. I have my things here. Thank you for all you’ve done for me, but I can’t stay.”
Marcus stared at her, then raising his head, his eyes cast desperately about but saw nothing. His hand violently ruffled his hair. He looked down at her. He was once more struck by what a little thing she was in such a big world, and he was overwhelmed by her self-possession. He knew there was a frightened Little girl hiding inside, but adult Pearl was in charge.
“For God’s sake, what happened? What did my mother do to you?”
“This isn’t your mother’s fault. Honestly.” She reached out to put a hand on his arm. “I thought being a princess would be fun, like a game, and everyone else would be having fun. I thought I could get your mother to like me; that she would like me when she realised I love you and am not after your money.”
“And she will. I promise, baby. Come and have breakfast with us. I can take you home later.” Marcus was speaking quickly and urgently, desperate to change her mind.
She shook her head and wiped away a tiny tear that had escaped. “No. I realised something last night. As much as I love you, I don’t want to live in your world. I don’t feel part of it and never will, and I doubt I would ever truly be accepted.”
“No, that’s not true,” Marcus blurted out, but even he didn’t really believe his words. They’d been living in a fantasy for the last few months. There was a good reason he’d not introduced her to his mother before. It was almost as if he’d known this would inevitably follow. “I love you!” he cried, his voice breaking. “I want to live with you. I want to marry you. You can’t throw it all away.”
“Oh!” A tortured cry escaped her, her bottom lip and chin suddenly trembled violently and her facade of self-possession threatened to crumble. She shook her head and kicked the ground with her foot until she regained control and could face him. “No. It wouldn’t work. I would always be an outsider coming between you and your family. We would probably wind up hating each other. And I couldn’t bear that, Daddy.”
Her reference to their special relationship cut through his heart like the sharp blade of a sword, and he was suddenly hopeful, but she shook her head.
“No. I’ve been the happiest I’ve ever been in my life with you. Don’t you see,” she pleaded, “if I leave now, I will always have our beautiful memories, but if I stay they’ll eventually be destroyed. I don’t want that. I want to keep them as my most precious possession forever. Safe. Where they can never be damaged. That’s why I’m leaving, and why we’re never seeing each other again.”
“You can’t mean it!” Marcus could see Pearl’s mind was made up but he didn’t want to accept it, couldn’t accept it. He chewed his lip and looked wildly around as though he might find something to change her mind. Then his shoulders drooped. “All right,” he conceded. “Catch the bus if you must, but I’ll come and see you. I have a meeting with Mother this morning, but I’ll come after. If not today, as soon as I can.”
Pearl sadly shook her head. “No, Marcus. I don’t want you to. Please don’t. If you truly do care for me, love me even, you will stay away. I don’t belong in your world. I never will. You will only make me unhappy if you insist, and it will only prolong the pain of our break-up if we see each other.”
With no words left, Marcus took Pearl’s hand and led her to a seat. Sitting himself down he pulled her onto his lap and wrapped her tightly in his arms.
“I love you, baby,” he murmured against her neck.
“I love you too, Daddy,” he heard her whisper. No! His heart cried. Could he really be going to lose her? Surely life couldn’t be so cruel. But he couldn’t force her to stay if it would make her miserable; he loved her too much for that.
Adrenalin coursed through his body as he saw the bus that would take her out of his life pull into the bus station and people begin boarding. He couldn’t let this happen. His mind was scrambling trying to think of what he could do.
“At least let me drive you home?”
�
��No! I couldn’t be in the car with you all that time and then say goodbye again. Let me go while I’m strong enough. Please,” she begged him.
His throat too tight to speak, he released her so she could climb off his lap, helped load her bag into the bus’s luggage compartment, and walked with her to the steps. He was desperate to kiss her soft lips one last time, but when she hugged him, she turned her face away and he could only kiss her gently on the top of her head. He stepped away as she climbed aboard the bus, found her seat and locked eyes with him through the window, hers as big as moons in a face as pale as moonlight.
His chest was hurting so much he wanted to double over in pain, but forced himself to stand tall. He saw her spread one palm on the window as the bus pulled out of the station onto the main road and then headed out of the city taking his Little girl out of his life.
Chapter 27
Pearl
Pearl parked her boss’s car outside the jewellery shop in the main street of Darling Flats, collected her things and went in.
“Ah, there you are,” the owner, Reg Downey, greeted her. “Successful trip?”
She nodded, her eyes shining. “It was, I think. I might have even got lucky this time. And thank you so much for lending me your car.”
“You’re welcome. Lucky, eh? Well done,” he replied as she handed him his car keys. “Can I see what you got?”
“Of course. I’ll unpack them and then show you,” Pearl promised as she went through into the back room. Sitting herself down at a table, she opened the briefcase and removed a black velvet cloth, a jeweller’s loupe, a tablet and three small bags. When all was laid out and ready, she opened the bags and displayed their contents in front of her.
When she’d turned up at her parents’ farm in Darling Flats the day after her horrible night at the Holding’s party with her luggage and without Marcus, her mother had been sensitive enough not to ask questions until she was ready to talk. Her dad, apart from a few additional silent hugs when his back allowed, pretended nothing had happened.
Glad to have something to take her mind off her broken heart, Pearl dressed in her big girl clothes, locked her Little girl away and threw herself into caring for the farm and her parents. She rang her Aunt Nancy and said there was no longer any need for her to come as she would be there to take care of Jack and Mary, and then she made ready for the start of the fruit picking, pulling out and cleaning the pickers’ baskets and tidying the packing shed. The picking started the following week by which time both Jack and Mary were able to start doing a few things, and Pearl could keep herself busy with hard physical work from sunrise until well after sunset and collapse exhausted into bed as soon as dinner was done and the kitchen cleaned.
After the last lot of fruit had left for market and the thick fog of pain shrouding her had begun to thin, she realised her love of jewels and her desire to have them in her life burned as bright as ever. After discussing her desire with her parents and getting their encouragement to look for work outside the farm, her first thought was Reg Downey’s shop, the Darling Flats Watchmaker & Jewellers. Reg had started his business as a young man and done well enough to raise his family on the proceeds. In recent times, however, profits had been steadily falling and Reg, on the threshold of retirement, was considering closing down. The demand for watches had plummeted, he rarely sold any jewellery, and what he made from repairs barely covered the costs of keeping his doors open.
He wasn’t quite ready to admit defeat, though, so when Pearl approached him about work, after an hour of her enthusiasm, ideas and encouragement, he agreed to employ her starting off at one day a week. That became two days a week, and then he began taking those two days off, leaving her in charge. Quickly seeing how the business could be improved, she found the courage to make some suggestions, in particular clearing out old stock by heavily discounting it, and replacing it with up-to-date, fashionable items with a wider range of prices.
At first Reg had been reluctant to sell his old stock at a loss and buy in new stock which he feared might be throwing good money after bad, but then Pearl offered to bring jewellery in and sell it on consignment and he agreed to that. Without a lot of her own money to buy from the wholesalers, Pearl had to go slowly, but she had an excellent eye and understanding of what customers wanted.
She sourced new wholesalers with fashionable jewellery and instigated a small advertising campaign. As turnover rose and his confidence grew, Reg allowed her to gradually discount the old stock and get rid of it, and before long he’d given her access to the shop’s money so she no longer had to use her own, and full responsibility for purchasing stock. Soon the shop had a whole new vibrant look and feel about it. Not only did locals start spending more in the shop, but tourists were also dropping in and, increasingly frequently, leaving with something they couldn’t resist.
Within a few months, Reg had felt confident enough to install Pearl as manager while he went into semi-retirement coming in only to carry out repairs and cover for Pearl, as he’d done today, if she wanted a day off.
While running the jewellery shop satisfied some of her ambition, she was as keen as ever to have her own jewellery business, so in her spare time she had set about building one online. She registered the name, Pearl’s Oyster, and created a website. Her evenings were spent online checking market sites and auctions, and gradually she developed her own modus operandi. She bought some jewellery online, but almost always from reputable sites. When she found something she was prepared to buy, she would offer a much lower price which was usually, but not always, rejected. If the item hadn’t sold after a certain amount of time, she repeated her offer, and sometimes it was accepted. Her success rate was low, but so were the prices she paid, so she could almost always resell the items at a profit.
Her preference, though, was to be able to see the jewellery before she bought it, and she managed to borrow a car frequently enough to be able to travel to auctions, market days, car boot sales, and anywhere else people might have jewellery for sale. She also took the bus on occasional trips to the city to follow up on jewellery advertised on online market sites and to scour second-hand shops. Tony, home from his travels, enjoyed driving her around and then dropping her at the bus station. It took up all her free time, but slowly and steadily she was creating a good business buying and selling jewellery.
The jewellery on the table in front of her she’d bought from private sellers in the surrounding towns. Reg had quite a few repairs waiting to be done, so it had suited him to spend the day in the shop leaving her free to go in search of stock. After looking at a considerable number of jewellery pieces of all types, she’d bought an antique emerald bracelet, a diamond pendant and a small plastic bag of unsorted cheap, costume jewellery. She wasn’t at all interested in glass stones and gold plating, but had spotted an interesting ring mixed in with the others that had made her heart beat a little faster. Something about it, even though she couldn’t see it properly, told her it wasn’t fake like the rest. She’d asked to see it out of the bag, but the seller had refused. “Take it all and look at it when it’s yours or stop wasting my time,” she’d said, so Pearl had gambled on her intuition and bought the lot.
Teasing herself by leaving that aside for the moment despite dying to inspect the ring, she picked up the emerald bracelet. She’d been in two minds about this one too, unconvinced it was everything the seller claimed. In the end, she’d decided it wasn’t suitable for Pearl’s Oyster, but she would buy it for the shop. It was eye-catching and she had bargained hard so it should make a fair profit, especially as antique and retro jewellery was currently extremely popular and among the shop’s best sellers.
Examining the emeralds minutely through her 10x triple-lens loupe, she decided her first assessment had been quite accurate. It was worth what it would fetch in the shop but probably not of sufficient quality to warrant the professional appraisal and certification required for sale through Pearl’s Oyster.
She picked up the second item, a
diamond pendant, and held the loupe up to her eye. She’d seen the pendant offered on the internet and offered half the asking price. Her offer had been summarily dismissed, but the seller had later made a counter-offer when no one else had shown any interest. Pearl didn’t waver on her initial offer, and eventually the seller relented and Pearl bought it for the price she wanted.
Her commitment to quality had already earned her online business five-star reviews and plenty of positive feedback. Her goal was, one day, to be trading in expensive items, but that was for the future; for the present, she was content to keep learning, test her eye and praise herself for her successes. This diamond pendant, for instance, unlike the bracelet, seemed promising and was worth getting appraised.
Those two out of the way, her heart beating faster, she picked up the plastic bag and tipped out the costume jewellery, rifling through for the ring she’d glimpsed. She picked it up and turned it around in her fingers, savouring the look and feel of it. In a minute she’d find out if she’d been right and if she had indeed found a hidden treasure.
Firstly, was it silver, white gold or could it even be platinum? She checked inside the band and saw a tiny pt. It was platinum, then, which meant the blue stone was most likely a natural sapphire. She inspected it through her loupe. No air bubbles, no lines, nothing to indicate it was man-made. She breathed onto it. Two seconds later, the fog started to disappear and was gone in a second. All signs it might be an authentic, natural sapphire. She slipped the ring on her finger and held her hand up to admire it. She would definitely get a professional appraisal, and if it was as good as she hoped, on top of the likely profit was the huge satisfaction she got from having spotted an unidentified treasure.