‘It wasn’t a holiday – those war-torn African children are in crisis. Zak and Abbey are probably two of a handful of adults they can trust. But yeah, funny the things people will do for love, isn’t it?’
We exchanged looks.
‘I think the original Earl of Croxley who fought against the Spanish Armada would be mega proud of Abbey, heading to a war-zone.’ I gave a tentative smile. ‘Please, Edward… Can’t you see that the last thing I wanted was to hurt you? Abbey hoped me taking part – as her —would reconcile the two brothers.’
Edward looked sad. ‘If she was that bothered, she should have turned up herself.’
I stared at him for a moment, and then shook my head.
‘Have you even thought what it was like for me, facing the cameras for that first cookery lesson, having previously been told I’d just be helping out in a coffee shop? But I stepped up to the mark. God knows how I would have managed without Kathleen’s help. It’s not all been a bundle of laughs.’
‘Kathleen was in on this?’
Oops.
‘Were Father and I the only ones not to know?’ His face flushed deeper. ‘Dennis Smith was right about you and your cookery skills – or lack of. I should have listened to his years of expertise. Instead, I was loyal to my supposed cousin. What a joke.’
‘The lies…were for the greater good,’ I said, still holding his gaze.
‘The words “lies” and “good” don’t belong in the same breath. The one thing I love… liked about you, Gemma, was…’ his cheeks flushed ‘your lack of agenda – you were who you were. But now…’ He ran a hand through his honey curls and looked about ten years old.
I took his hand. ‘What is it, Edward?’ I said softly. ‘Someone’s lied to you big time before?’
He jerked away once more. ‘You don’t understand – or know the real me at all.’
‘But at least admit…If it wasn’t for me, you wouldn’t have got this far. Who thought of the evacuee reunion? And my antics with Nick caught the attention of the younger viewers. Does all that count for nothing? We’ve got this far.’
‘What’s been the point? We’ll have lost the viewers’ trust, now.’
‘Saving your bloody family, that’s what! And how do you think I feel as the new national joke? I’ve had to transform my appearance and the way I move. I’ve had to speak posh and constantly worry that I’m letting someone down. Well, stuff you, if you can’t see the good in that.’ With a stifled sob, I picked up my shoes and raced through the maze, tripping as I went. Edward caught me just as I was about to tumble over and helped me regain my balance.
‘Edward… It’s me…’ I implored. ‘It’s Gemma, who likes to dip in the pond…play Tig in the woods and chase…’
‘I… I don’t want to see you until the final show on Saturday – when we’ll no doubt lose,’ he muttered. ‘Please, Gemma, understand. The betrayal hurts too much.’ He eased his grip on my arm. ‘It’s not that I’m saying I’m perfect, but lies…No, I can’t take any more.’
Biting my cheeks inside, I stared at his expressionless face. How could he dismiss what we had so easily and bring it to an end? Well, there was no way I’d allow myself to cry in front of him. With blurred vision, I headed for the house.
LORD EDWARD’S E-DIARY
Wednesday 12th September
‘Comments’
10.55p.m. I have just come from… Am about to return to the Drake Diner and our guests after…This library is providing refuge, whilst I recover from an enormous shock. Apologies for my incoherence, blog-readers, but I’ve just been told what I suspect Roxy might call ‘the biggest bit of gossip yet’.
Chapter 28
Which would be the quickest way to shut someone up—a stiletto through the eye or death by arsenic-laced chocolate? I smiled sweetly at Charlie Chingo, who’d just sat down to interview me, having paced the Low Drawing Room several times, shaking his head.
Okay. I get it. It’s a surprise to see what I really look and sound like, but I’m not part of a freak show. Gemma Goodwin is a human being, even though she doesn’t speak as if she’s got marbles in her mouth and can’t get out of a car without flashing her thong.
Charlie gave a low whistle as he sat down opposite me, underneath the chandelier. ‘Damn, girl,’ he said finally, ‘you’ve got balls.’
Yeah, and you might lose yours in a minute, I thought. Funny, how, within seconds of meeting me as myself, he’d sworn and burped, showing a total lack of respect. He’d never have done that in front of Abbey.
‘Are we ready?’ I asked Roxy, stomach cramping now. Urgh. Job interviews were bad enough, let alone ones where I was probably going to be interrogated like some criminal.
She nodded and I smoothed down my blouse. Deciding what to wear had been difficult. In the end I’d worn my shorts and high heels with one of Abbey’s silky tops. It was high-necked – an unusual style for me, but I’d come to like it. My false eyelashes were in place and it was great to powder on bronzer. I’d also nipped to the chemist that morning and bought a home-dye kit. Except I couldn’t get my head around going back to the chocolate-brown—somehow, it just didn’t seem ‘me’ any more. So I chose one more like my natural colour, called copper blonde. I dissed the chicken fillets, as well. Somehow, they just didn’t seem right.
‘So, Gemma Goodwin,’ said Charlie as the cameras rolled. ‘Chat with Chingo—first things first… A stay at Applebridge Hall must be a dream for a girl like you.’
‘A girl like me?’ I asked innocently.
‘No offence, but wasn’t your last job at Pizza Parlour?’
‘Yeah. So was Miss Croxley’s. We were both made redundant.’
From the far side of the room near the fireplace, Roxy grinned and gave me the thumbs-up. Charlie fiddled with his signet ring.
‘What I mean is… For anyone, me too, moving to a stately home for two weeks would be super cool! Was this high life one of the reasons you agreed to this charade? Talk about a top-notch holiday, with everything included!’
‘It sounded mega exciting, I’ll give you that…but no. When Abigail asked me to stand in as her, I thought it was a joke.’
Charlie guffawed. ‘Absolutely! I mean, could there be two more opposite characters than an aristocrat and…?’
‘A girl like me?’ I fixed a smile on my face.
Charlie ran a hand through his slicked back hair. ‘So tell me, Gemma, why did you agree to this madcap plan?’
Sorry, Abbey, the time had come to tell the truth. I told Charlie all about Zak and the African orphans.
‘I see. And Abigail’s trip is very commendable—but the favour she asked of you was huge, no question about that. What has been the most difficult thing about the last fortnight—apart from a, um, few teething problems with the cooking?’
I couldn’t help smiling – a few teething problems? Very polite!
‘Yeah, the cookery lessons, of course, although I think I did pretty well, considering I arrived believing my two weeks would be spent in a coffee shop.’
‘How did you feel when you heard news of the Food Academy?’
‘How do you think? Mega terrified. I wanted to do a runner, then and there.’
‘Why didn’t you?’
‘How could I go back on my promise? Guess I was lucky, as it turned out, as I’ve always been interested in learning about food.’ I looked around the room. ‘And it didn’t take long for me to fall in love with this place. After one night, I was smitten.’
Charlie leant forward. ‘With the posh furniture and amazing gardens?’
‘More than that. You see, when you’re here, as you know, it’s the imperfections that are most noticeable. Run your hand over the brickwork and sand will flake away. Stare hard enough at the awesome artwork and faded patches will catch your eye. No doubt, on the telly, Applebridge Hall looks like some grand manor from a film set, but take this room, for example… Look closely at the cracked floor tiles and chipped, um, strapwork, I think it’
s called, up in that corner…’ I pointed in the air. ‘…there are signs of damp. This place has a lived-in feel. You can almost hear past parties and celebrations and family arguments, echoing along the corridors…’ I bit my lip. ‘A night in this place and I realized, despite its size, Applebridge Hall is basically someone’s home.’
‘So, it wasn’t about being on the telly?’
‘No way. Celebrity life—I’ve always thought that must be a nightmare. But, don’t get me wrong, I love reality programmes, watch all the shows. It was one of the happiest days of my life when they brought back Big Brother.’
‘But you must have enjoyed acting out those movie scenes.’
I reached for my glass of water. Talk about twenty questions.
‘To start with, yes – because, as a fan of reality telly, I knew they were exactly the kind of thing I’d like to watch. I wasn’t patronising fans of the show, cos I like the same stuff. Although, as time moved on, it became more difficult.’
‘Why was that?’
‘I guess some of the stuff I’d learnt about ladylike behaviour had really stuck.’
‘And I believe you went undercover as Gemma and visited Marwick Castle. Like Nick, were you acting as the Applebridge PI?’
Ah. That cat would be well and truly out of the bag now, of course. The Baron and Harry would have recognized me—plus Roxy, who’d given me a lift home.
‘No. It wasn’t planned. I just happened to bump into the Baron’s son and he invited me over. I thought it would be interesting to have a look at the competition, but that’s all. Digging for dirt isn’t my style.’
Inwardly, I sighed. Everyone probably thought the worst of me now. There was no sign of Edward. Would he even bother to watch my interview tonight, when it was screened? Would he listen to me explain how Lady C trained me – about my lessons in deportment and etiquette? Would he appreciate just how much work I’d put in?
I cocked my head and nodded and hmmed and answered loads more questions.
‘Finally, Gemma…’
Finally? That sure was one great F word.
‘Would you like to turn to the camera and give the British public one good reason why they shouldn’t feel totally deceived? Remember Patsy, the first person to get knocked out of last year’s Big Brother?’
‘Yeah—everyone hated her because she tried to be “street”, when really she was a mega conservative suburban housewife.’
‘And Lenny from Celebrity Spa Weekend?’ said Charlie.
I nodded. He was voted out after the first night for bigging himself up as some kind of stud. When one of the women made a move, he locked himself in his bedroom.
‘The British Public are an eccentric lot themselves,’ said Charlie, ‘and the winners of these shows are as diverse as the birdlife in the Earl’s gardens. All they ask is that contestants are true to themselves.’ He shrugged. ‘Why should they still vote for Applebridge Hall when everything you’ve done over the last two weeks has been based on lies? When the whole appeal of Applebridge is supposed to be the history and tradition of the Croxley family?’
I gazed into the camera. There were no prepared words. The only thing I could do was talk from the heart. ‘Of course, it’s mega important to keep Applebridge Hall in good nick, so that all that history is preserved, but, really, there’s only one reason I agreed to this farce – to be there for my mate, Abbey.’ I gave a wry smile. ‘It’s a surprise to me, more than anyone, that the plan almost worked. Who am I? My ancestors haven’t been friends with a queen or hosted parties attended by Hollywood stars. But what this fortnight has taught me, more than anything else, is that money and status don’t change things that are important, like looking after your own and not letting down those you love.’
I took another sip of water, chest aching at no longer being part of the Croxley clan. It’d be great to merge their family with mine and have the Earl as a real uncle and Lady C as my aunt. I reckoned they’d both get on with my dad.
‘As for pretending to be an aristocrat,’ I continued. ‘Well, sorry, but I wouldn’t change that for the world. Lady C…I mean Constance, taught me that being a Lady isn’t about fancy clothes and houses; it’s about having morals and goals; it’s about having respect for yourself and nothing to do with some cliché of a woman who dresses like a nun and doesn’t say boo to a goose. A Lady is brave in spirit and actions. She is fair, she works hard and treats others like she’d like to be treated herself. In fact… I hope I’m now more ladylike than I was before.’
Wow. Where did that soapbox speech come from? Charlie stared at me intently, along with everyone else in the room.
‘That’s it,’ I said into the camera. ‘Vote how you like, but please don’t let my actions put you off Applebridge Hall. And…’ damn that wobble in my voice ‘…to their Lordships, I’d just like to say… Don’t think too badly of me. I meant well and tried my hardest for your family, for Abbey and this freakin’ amazin’ house.’
My chair scraped as I stood up, seconds after Gaynor called, ‘Cut’. Five minutes later, I sat down again in the kitchen, in front of a mug of tea, along with several cubes of Kathleen’s Highland fudge.
‘Och, don’t fret now,’ said Kathleen. ‘This will all blow over. A month from now you’ll have a new job and no one will remember Million Dollar Mansion.’ She smoothed down her floral apron and sat down opposite. I gave her a smile.
‘You’ve been brill, Kathleen,’ I said, ‘and sorry for dropping you in it with Edward. Has he spoken to you yet?’
She shook her head. ‘But the Earl came to see me early today. We ate breakfast together. He actually thanked me for helping you out.’
I nodded. ‘He and Lady C found me by the pond, just after lunch. The Earl gets it – he understands why I lied. He mumbled something about everything his father did to try and save this place; said, despite the failed business deals, he never gave up. He said needs must and I’d shown myself to be a loyal friend.’ I smiled again. ‘He and Lady C seem closer than ever. Clearly, he’s forgiven her for this stupid charade.’
‘Och, aye. They spend as much time together as Mr Thompson and his gun.’
‘Perhaps they’re loved up?’
Kathleen smiled. ‘Aye, perhaps. Despite all the furore, they were out birdwatching again this morning.’
‘Whereas Edward…’ I said. ‘He won’t listen to reason. When I tried to chat to him, just before my interview, he held up his hand. Back to his usual mega stubborn, uptight, withdrawn self…just like when I first arrived.’
‘I was reet surprised, you know, to find out about you and him. But, after some thought, I reckon you two could be good for each other.’ Kathleen patted my arm. ‘Give him some time, lassie.’
‘Time? He wants me out after the live final. And if we lose the show, there’s no way he’ll accept an olive stone, let alone a branch.’
‘Look… Try once more to talk to him – he just headed for the forest, up by the cemetery, a moment ago.’
I finished my tea. Guess it might be worth one last shot. ‘Can I borrow your cardie?’ I said. Clouds had gathered and if I was to catch him, I didn’t have time to head upstairs to change.
Wrapped up in the long brown woolly, I battled against the wind and headed up the hill. There was no sign of him by the cemetery. He must have been among the trees, checking out the fence at the back.
‘Aarggh!’ shouted a voice.
I ran into the woods. ‘Is that you, Edward? Everything all right?’ My heart raced as I cut among the trees, avoiding knotted roots and patches of tall grass. In the middle it was dark and I tripped over a stump. If only I’d changed into my jeans. I hopped up and down for a second, blood trickling down my shin. A loud grunt came from the back fence and, with a slight limp, I headed that way.
‘Edward?’ I said, out of breath. A tall figure sat on the ground, brooding face lit up by a chink of sunlight that had broken through the cloud and treetops.
‘What are you doing here?’
he muttered.
Panting, I came to a standstill by him. ‘What’s… happened?’
He gazed at my shin. ‘I could ask you the same question.’
‘It’s nothing. I tripped over. You shouted…’
He stared at me for a moment. ‘A sprained ankle is the least of my worries.’ His sock was pulled down to reveal a large purple-black bruise.
I slipped my hand under his arm. ‘Come on, let’s get you back to the house.’
He shook me off. ‘Don’t be ridiculous. I’m twice your size.’
‘What’s bonkers is you thinking you can get back without me to lean on. I’m not leaving. We can wait here all day if you like.’
He glared at me. I raised my eyebrows and, after a couple of minutes, won the stand-off.
With a big sigh he stood up. I slipped my arm around his waist and his arm rested on my shoulders. I looked up at him.
‘Let’s get this over with,’ he said, expressionless.
It took us twenty minutes to get out of the woods and, back aching, I suggested a sit-down by the cemetery. Collapsed on the grass, Edward tore up a fallen leaf.
‘Nice cardigan,’ he said.
Hurrah! His anger had mellowed to sarcasm. This was a start.
‘Tell Mr Thompson where I am,’ he muttered. ‘You go, before permanently damaging your back.’
‘Perhaps I could get the lawnmower?’ I said with a half-smile. Please let him smile back.
Instead, his brow furrowed. ‘I guess there are similarities to our situation and Titanic, in that the hero and heroine end up apart.’ He bit his lip. ‘It was one of my mother’s favourite films.’
‘Edward…We don’t need to split.’
‘Why? Who knows what secrets are in you, still untold?’
‘Everyone has secrets. They don’t necessarily have to be bad.’ I cleared my throat. ‘Look – there’s only one other thing I haven’t told you, that Charlie just reminded me of.’
He pursed his lips.
‘One night I went out to the pub— as myself. I met that Baron’s son, Harry. Little did I know, at the time, he must have been there to see Nick. Anyway, he asked me back to a party at the Castle. I thought it would be interesting to see what they were really like, compared to us.’
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