by Sk Quinn
She hangs up the phone and nods at me. ‘That door right behind you.’ She lowers her voice. ‘There’s been a lot of shouting. Just to warn you.’
54
When I walk into the office, Patrick is frowning.
He’s handsome and chiselled as ever, wearing a black suit and white shirt. He sits on a high-backed leather chair
The lady behind the shiny walnut desk is frowning too. She has a curly black bonnet of hair and powdery white skin.
She’s too thin, just like Daphne said. And her brown suit is badly fitting and hanging off her in all the wrong places.
‘Well Patrick,’ she says, her voice sharp and clear like a school mistress. ‘I thought we were here for business. Not social visits from your nearest and dearest.’
‘I’m guessing Seraphina has some important reason for coming to see me,’ says Patrick. ‘Would I be right?’
I blush. Suddenly, my thing about Zara being a bridesmaid seems silly and teenage.
‘It felt important at the time,’ I admit.
‘Take a seat, Seraphina,’ says Patrick, pulling a spinning leather chair towards me. ‘It’s good you’re here. This concerns you too.’
‘Are you talking about Bertie?’ I ask.
‘Among other things, yes.’
Miss Daniels puts her elbows on the table. ‘You were his nanny, is that right?’
‘Well I still am really,’ I say. ‘I mean – I still look after him.’
‘Then you must care about the boy,’ says Miss Daniels.
‘Very much so,’ I say.
‘In that case, perhaps you can help Patrick see reason.’
‘In what way?’
‘Dirk Mansfield is prepared to make a settlement,’ says Miss Daniels. ‘But only if Bertie won’t speak against him. The boy needs to be kept out of the courtroom. I’m sure you understand that as much as anybody Miss …?’
‘Harper,’ I say.
‘Well Miss Harper.’ She strides to a filter coffee machine. ‘Young Bertie has had plenty of traumas in his life. Wouldn’t you agree?’
‘Yes I would.’
‘And I think we can all agree that it’s not a good idea to put him through any more. The pressure of a court case. Seeing Dirk face to face, in light of what he’s accusing him of … not a good idea.’
‘No it isn’t,’ I say, glancing at Patrick. ‘But Dirk needs to be punished for his crimes. And that can’t happen unless Bertie testifies. Right?’
‘It depends how you look at punishment,’ says Miss Daniels. ‘Dirk has already suffered. He’s in prison right now. With criminals.’
‘He is a criminal,’ says Patrick.
‘He’s an old man now, Patrick,’ says Veronica. ‘Frail. And he’s given up his share of Mansfield castle to try and reach some sort of agreement. Surely he’s suffered enough.’
‘No,’ says Patrick. ‘That man should rot in prison for the rest of his days. He tortured my nephew. No settlement will be reached. Bertie will testify. And my father will stay in prison.’
‘But Patrick …’ My voice falters. ‘Can we do that to Bertie? Really? After all he’s been through?’
‘It’s not a question of “can we”,’ says Patrick. ‘We must. It’s as simple as that.’
‘What sort of settlement does Dirk want to agree?’ I ask Miss Daniels.
‘Seraphina—’
‘I just want to hear the options,’ I tell Patrick. ‘Please. I love Bertie. I’d do anything not to hurt him again. If there’s a way—’
‘Your fiancée seems like a reasonable woman,’ says Miss Daniels. ‘She at least is seeing sense.’ She pours coffee into a mug and takes a sip. ‘Miss Harper, the turning over of Mansfield Castle to Anise is a temporary measure. Dirk had me draw up a special contract. He can take the castle back at any point.’ She clears her throat. ‘I understand the Thornburn brothers are living in the castle right now.’
‘Correct,’ says Patrick.
‘And I imagine, knowing what I do of the Thornburn family, that the situation is somewhat uncomfortable.’
‘You could put it that way,’ Patrick admits.
‘Not a great way to start married life,’ she says. ‘With unwelcome guests in your new home. And of course, it can’t be very healthy for young Bertie.’
‘No it isn’t,’ I say.
‘Dirk can take the castle back again,’ says Miss Daniels. ‘And the Thornburns will no longer have the right to live there. But he’ll only do that if Bertie is kept away from the witness stand. And Patrick must sign something to that effect.’
‘That’s not a settlement,’ I say. ‘That’s blackmail.’
Patrick lips flick into a smile.
I turn to Patrick. ‘Bertie will have to testify. Won’t he? It’s the only way.’
Patrick nods.
‘Then we’ll help him. We’ll be there to support him. But he has to speak out. Or else Dirk could walk free and hurt others.’
‘I thought you were going to be reasonable,’ says Miss Daniels, frowning. ‘Miss Harper, hasn’t Bertie been hurt enough?’
‘Yes,’ I say. ‘But this is the only way.’
‘I think we’re finished with this meeting for today,’ says Patrick, standing. ‘I’m sorry it’s come to this, Miss Daniels. That you’d side with my father in all of this. Foolish. Very foolish.’ He takes my hand. ‘Come on Seraphina. Let’s go.’
55
Out on the street, Patrick says: ‘So? Would you mind telling me what this visit is all about?’
‘Oh it doesn’t matter right now,’ I say. ‘Patrick, I’m so afraid for Bertie. If he has to testify … it could break him.’
‘It could,’ Patrick agrees. ‘But I don’t think it will. If I didn’t think he could cope, I wouldn’t be suggesting he testifies.’
I bite my lip. ‘I wish there was another way.’
‘So do I.’ Patrick pulls me to him. ‘Believe me. So do I. But I’m still intrigued by this city visit of yours. It must be important. For you to come all the way out here to see me.’
‘Can’t you guess what it’s about?’ I say, smiling. ‘You usually can.’
‘It’s something to do with the wedding,’ says Patrick. ‘Let me guess. You’ve been talking to my mother, so … have you learned the grand tradition of the Mansfield sisters and cousins being bridesmaids?’
‘Yes.’
‘And you’re furious that Zara could be a bridesmaid? Would I be right?’
I laugh. ‘Yes again.’
‘Tradition is tradition.’ He strokes my hair. ‘That’s how my grandmother will want things done.’
I feel my blood pressure rising. ‘Are you marrying me or your grandmother?’
‘Definitely you.’
‘What if I invite my ex-boyfriend to the wedding?’ I fume. ‘And have him give me away at the altar? How would you like that?’
Patrick’s face turns thunderous. ‘I’d hate it. As you well know.’
‘Then why don’t you understand why I can’t have Zara as my bridesmaid?’
‘I do understand. But if you’re going to join the Mansfield family, you’ll have to get used to tradition. There’ll be plenty more traditions to follow when we marry. Believe me.’
‘Oh?’ I raise an eyebrow. ‘Like what?’
‘Like having our wedding portrait painted and hung in the Long Gallery. And buying you a crested silver cutlery set to eat with once you carry the Mansfield name. And trying for our first baby on the wedding night.’ He slides his hand around to my backside and pulls me close to him.
‘What was that last one again?’
‘It’s one of our strongest traditions.’ He lowers his lips to my ear. ‘And I aim to succeed on the first try.’
‘Wait.’ I put my hands on his shoulders. ‘Just slow down a minute. You want me to get pregnant the same night we marry?’
‘Of course I do. What could be more perfect.’
I laugh. ‘Oh I don’t know. Perhaps a few y
ears of married life together? Maybe a career for me? I have my own things I’d like to do, you know.’
‘You’ll still look after Bertie. No one will take that away from you. But you’ll have a child of your own too.’
‘Patrick, I’m not ready for children. There are things I want to do with my life first. And with you.’
‘Well if you want me to tie you down on our wedding night, I can arrange that too—’
‘Stop it,’ I say, slapping his arm. ‘This isn’t a joke. This is serious. You really want to have children that quickly? Before we’ve even had any time together? For some stupid tradition?’
‘Traditions aren’t stupid, Seraphina. They’re important.’
‘Why?’
‘Because they’re where we come from. They’re our history.’
‘Not my history, Patrick Mansfield. The only tradition my family ever had was not paying our rent on time.’
‘And yet, still you agreed to the tradition of marriage.’
‘To you. I want to marry you. Not the tradition of marriage. I want to commit to you. And you to me …’
Patrick’s lips curl up. ‘And we’ll do that through the tradition of marriage. The old ways of doing things are important, Seraphina. Especially in my family. You’ll come to understand that in time.’
I put my hands on my hips. ‘Don’t you dare patronise me, Patrick Mansfield. I’m not having Zara as my bridesmaid. I don’t care how traditional it is. And I’m not getting pregnant on my wedding night. Sharon will be my bridesmaid. So will my sister. If Anise stops being so crazy, I can accept her as my bridesmaid as well.’
The smile reaches Patrick’s eyes. ‘Well that’s very generous of you.’
‘Yes it is. This is my wedding too, Patrick. I’m already marrying in a huge cathedral—’
‘And that’s such a sacrifice? Having your wedding in one of the world’s greatest historical buildings?’
‘Yes. Because that building has nothing to do with me. It’s all to do with you and your family.’
‘They’re your family now.’
‘Not yet they’re not.’
‘But they will be.’
‘No they won’t. Not if you insist on Zara being my bridesmaid.’
‘You feel that strongly about it?’
‘Of course I do!’ I explode.
‘Then maybe we can break that tradition,’ he says, pulling me close to him again. ‘But I have to insist on the wedding night tradition—’
‘Patrick!’
‘Well, well. Someone has strong opinions today.’
‘I have strong opinions every day.’
‘Of course. How silly of me to forget. Well how about this. On our wedding night, I try to convince you to have my baby. And if I don’t succeed, you’ll have all the time you want to have your career. Or whatever it is you want to do.’
‘Agreed,’ I say, although my voice is cautious. ‘Depending on what you mean by “convince”. What exactly do you have planned?’
‘I’m not going to ruin all your wedding day surprises, Seraphina.’
‘Stop teasing.’
‘Convince. As in, try to persuade you that my way is the best way.’
‘As long as you won’t get to upset when I say no.’
‘You won’t say no.’
‘Oh yes I will.’
‘Let’s just wait and see.’
56
We have lunch with Bertie and Daphne in the members’ room at the Scottish Parliament building.
It’s very grand and formal, with long red curtains and huge gold-trimmed bookcases.
I get the feeling Patrick is trying to prepare me for my wedding day. When I’ll be walking down the aisle of a huge cathedral.
I’m eyeing up Bertie the whole time, uneasy about our conversation with Miss Daniels this morning.
I know Patrick thinks Bertie is strong. But he’s been through so much. It kills me that we might have to put him through even more trauma.
Bertie seems to have no idea what might be in store for him.
He eats a little soup at the meal and he has colour in his cheeks. He even smiles at one of my jokes, and talks about Just William.
I can see Daphne is pleased he’s making progress, but it makes me worry. To think that just as we’re winning him over again, we might end up knocking him down.
I don’t know if Patrick is thinking the same thing, but he looks all serious and stern as we eat.
At the end of the meal, suited waiters bring us coffee and a frothy milk for Bertie. I can’t hold back any more.
‘Bertie,’ I say. ‘We saw a lady today. To talk about Grandpa.’
Bertie’s eyes go big and wide.
‘You’ve been through so much, Bertie. But we might need you to be strong again. We might need you to … to tell people what Grandpa did to you.’
I move closer to him, but he shrinks back from me.
‘You know we would never ask you to do this unless we really had to,’ I explain. ‘But … your grandpa might walk free if you don’t testify. If you don’t tell people what he did.’
Bertie looks up at me, his eyes all sad. He shakes his head a little. ‘Can’t.’
‘I understand, Bertie. I know it feels that way. But …’ I glance at Patrick. ‘Uncle Patrick thinks you can do it. And that even after everything you’ve been through, you can still be strong. I know bad things have happened to you. Worse than any boy of your age should go through. But if you do this, Grandpa will go away for good.’
‘Forever?’ Bertie asks, his voice stilted.
‘Forever and ever,’ I say. ‘And he’ll never hurt anyone again.’
Bertie looks at the floor. ‘He hurt me.’
‘Yes. I know. And that’s what we need you to tell people. How he hurt you.’
‘Can’t.’
I glance at Patrick again. And I know Patrick is right. Bertie is strong. He’s strong enough to do this. It’ll be bad, no doubt about it. But it won’t break him. He’ll survive it, just like he survived everything else.
‘Bertie, you can do this,’ I say, putting my hands on his shoulders. ‘You can.’
‘No.’
‘Yes. Yes you can. I’ll be right with you. The whole time. And we’ll do this together. We’re a family. You, me and Patrick. I don’t know about your mother. I don’t know what will happen with her. But I’ll be with you forever. I won’t leave you. Okay?’
Bertie blinks. ‘Okay,’ he says softly.
I fold him into a hug, and he lets me. ‘Okay,’ I say.
57
Back at the castle, I tell Patrick and Daphne that I need some time with Bertie alone.
Then the two of us go for a walk in the woods.
We reach a sawn off tree stump and I ask Bertie to sit down.
‘Listen,’ I tell him. ‘What lies ahead of you is difficult. No doubt about it. But once it’s over it’s over.’
Bertie gives a sad little nod. He’s all tucked up inside his duffel coat and his white-blond hair blows in the breeze.
‘My dad had a special prayer when things were difficult,’ I say. ‘Shall I tell you it?’
‘Yes please.’
‘He used to say, “God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.”’ I smile. ‘I even got my name from that prayer. Seraphina. Serenity. Anyway. Right now Bertie, there’s something you can change. But you need courage. And my dad always used to say that the most courageous people are the ones who practise the most.’
Bertie looks at me blankly.
‘What I mean is, courage takes practise. Preparation. So. You and I are going to practise what you’re going to say in court. We’re going to practise, practise and practise again. Until you’re so used to saying it that it’s like singing a song. Okay?’
‘I don’t want to,’ says Bertie.
‘I know.’ I perch on the edge of the tree stump. ‘I
know you don’t. But trust me Bertie – once we get through those first few times it will get easier. I promise it will. I used to look after a little girl once who was scared of dogs. Terrified, actually. And do you know what we did?’
‘What?’
‘We practised being around dogs. First, we just sat with a dog in the room. Then, when she got used to that, I stroked the dog and she put her hand on top of mine. And then finally she stroked the dog. And after that she wasn’t afraid anymore.’
‘I’ll always be scared,’ says Bertie.
‘No. No, you won’t. But you have to practise. Okay? Will you try? Please? For me?’
Bertie bites his lip, and I smile. ‘I do that too,’ I say. ‘When I’m nervous. So does Wila.’
Bertie manages a little smile too.
‘So listen,’ I tell him. ‘You’re safe here. It’s just you and me. No one can hurt you. No one else is listening. Can you tell me? Tell me what Grandpa did?’
Bertie’s body stiffens.
‘It’s okay Bertie,’ I say. ‘Take your time.’
‘He hurt me,’ says Bertie.
I feel sick. But I know we have to carry on. He has to learn how to talk about this. Or Dirk could walk free.
‘How did he hurt you Bertie?’ I ask, hating that question.
‘He wouldn’t let me eat,’ says Bertie, his hands beginning to shake. ‘He … if I talked. He wouldn’t let me have food if I talked. And he hit me. With a long thing.’
‘Do you mean a belt?’ I ask. ‘Like men wear around their waist?’
Bertie nods. ‘Yes.’
‘So he hit you with a belt?’
Bertie nods.
‘Try to say the words, Bertie,’ I say, putting an arm around him. ‘Okay? Can you say the words out loud?’
‘He … hit me with a belt,’ says Bertie. ‘And he wouldn’t give me food. He told me the food was bad sometimes too. If I talked, he said he’d poison my food. And he’d kill my mother. He said I shouldn’t talk anymore.’
‘He wanted to stop you talking,’ I say. ‘Do you know why?’
Bertie nods. ‘Because I heard.’