Chapter 10
"How about the bar and a beer?" "A beer?"
"I really appreciate the help you've been giving Elizabeth with those old papers of Albert's. The least I can do is buy you a drink."
"Thank you, Richard. That's a great idea."
"This round's on me."
*****
"So, are you finding anything of interest in that appalling pile of garbage from Elizabeth's old uncle?"
Michael muses into his glass. "Depends what you're looking for I suppose, but it's actually quite interesting, seeing someone else's life like this. Once you get past thirty-year-old bus tickets, you find the things that really tell you something." "Like what?"
"Did you know he was a bankrupt?"
"Was he now..."
Wonder if Elizabeth knew that....
".... That could explain a lot. What little I saw of him was mainly complaints that things weren't as they should be, and everything was better in his day."
"Mind you...." Michael gulp at his beer. ".... he must have recovered from it. At least enough to have owned his own home when he died."
"Ah-ah." I shake my head. "That house came from his second marriage. His first wife left him apparently. There was talk in the family that he married the second one because she was quite well-off."
Michael regards me from over his glass. "It doesn't sound as though you liked him much?"
"Well, the old boy didn't like me much either. Not that he had much to say. He was already pretty addled by the time I first met him. When she went to visit him, I'd just drop Elizabeth off, and return a couple of hours later to collect her. And since I was paying his care bills by then, it hardly mattered what he thought of me. Elizabeth knew I was doing the right thing by him and that's all that matters to me."
Michael nods, apparently deep in thought.
Time to change the subject.....
"So how are the wedding plans coming along?"
He is immediately more cheerful. "Ah, fine. Beth's been a brilliant help. She comes up with all kinds of things that James and I would miss.... You know.... Girl things.... I think Charlotte would be completely out of her depth without her." "Did she want a big wedding?"
"James wanted it for her. And in fairness, so do I."
"And for yourself, of course."
He smiles. "Of course. You only do this kind of thing once."
Let's hope that's true....
I jerk a thumb back to the dining room. "What's with James and Ben? They don't get on?"
"Ben? Oh, he's a miserable bastard." Michael stares into his empty glass, then offers it to the barman for a refill. "I shouldn't say it about my own brother, but he is. He lives too much in the world of how it ought to be and not enough in the world as it is. Plus, right now, he's sulking because he thinks he should have been my Best Man."
I wait until the barman has passed across the fresh glass and retreated along the bar. In a lowered voice, "I assume Ben doesn't know about you and James having met in the clubs?"
He snorts. "You've got to be kidding. No, it's not something I would ever tell him."
"And your, um, arrangement over Charlotte?"
He rubs his nose. "I'll tackle that one in time." Then sucking an inch from the top of the glass, "A good part of the problem is Ben's own background. He was never what you'd call the sunny sort, but he wasn't too bad until his own marriage went overboard."
"Ben was married?"
"Briefly, yes. But he found out that his wife had been playing away from home with his best friend. The was the end of the marriage...."
"I can imagine."
".... and it's left him with a chip on his shoulder and a misplaced sense of protectiveness towards me." He takes the rest of the glass in one long swallow, then wipes his mouth on the back of his hand. "You were right. I needed that. Thanks, Richard." "My pleasure."
"Now, back to work." He turns to head for the door. "Let's see if I can put together a seating plan that won't result in the meltdown of civilisation as we know it."
*****
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"Sir, I thought you would like to know. Since you've been, um, behaving yourself, there's talk of extending your privileges."
"In what way?"
"Extra exercise time. A pleasanter job."
"I fucking hate the laundries."
"Don't blame you, sir."
"Any chance of the library?"
"I'll see what could be done, sir, but I can't make any promises."
"I understand.... Any news?"
"Little but wedding arrangements. The two men seem to have it worked out between themselves. One is actually marrying her...."
"Which one?
"Summerford, sir. The other one is his Best Man."
"And she's happy with all this?"
"So I'm being told, sir."
"Anything else? Did you talk to Baxter?"
"Yes, sir. He says he can move any time you want with around twenty-four hours' notice."
"Excellent."
*****
The day before the wedding... and I feel like a spare part. Limping into the dining room, I find a small buzz of staff, moving efficiently and quietly, overseen by Beth, directing the laying out of the tables. "Can I help?"
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Her smile is brisk as she wipes hands on a cloth. "No, thank you, James. I think we have it under control. If you make sure the kitchen staff have everything they need, I think Michael and I can handle things in here." She eyes me. "You're favouring that leg. Why don't you go get some sunshine on it? Bake out the ache."
She's right, and I should do it, but I'm enjoying myself, watching my plans finally come together.
Soon have the knot safely tied....
So, I hang around, getting under the feet of staff who already know their jobs and how to do them.
Beth carries in the first layer of the cake. It's a beauty. I'm no expert on these things, but the thing is a minor work of art, almost plain white, but with a filigree of iced violets nestled at the base of each layer. Charlotte appears carrying another layer.
Not looking happy....
Stressed I suppose....
Beth nods one way... "Where do you want it, Charlotte? Here, by the window with that lovely backdrop over the view?" Then the other... "Or perhaps over there? Where it would be easier for the photographer."
Charlotte sets down her cake on the nearest table. Almost slams it down. "I really don't care...." Her voice is sharp, almost shrill. "...We've proved haven't we that I'm no good at formal dinners and how to do it properly. Ask Michael about the arrangements for his wedding."
I'm about to speak, to reprimand her, but Beth flashes laser beams at me, holding up a hand, and I subside.
"It's your wedding too," she says. "Charlotte... Relax. Tell you what..." She puts down her own cake, slides an arm around her cousin's waist. "... You're tired. Why not put your feet up for a bit? Have a bath or a glass of wine. You'll feel better for
it."
Charlotte nods, but glancing up, as she sees me, her face falls. "Sorry, Master," she mumbles, looking close to tears. Folding her arms, hunch-shouldered, she marches out.
"Young bride's nerves," says Beth. "I was just the same before my wedding. And think how hers turned out the first time around. She'll be fine." "Perhaps."
This isn't how I wanted it for her...
Surely Beth's right?
Wedding nerves...
Just nerves...
She'll be fine.
*****