by Sk Quinn
‘What did you hear?’
‘I heard … about Mummy’s mummy. Margaret. I heard Margaret was Mummy’s mummy.’
‘Margaret Calder?’
‘Yes. Margaret Calder.’
‘Okay Bertie. You’re doing great.’ I hug him, and although he’s shaking a little bit he’s okay. And I don’t think he needs to say anymore. He’s said more than enough to tell a courtroom why Dirk needs to be sent away for a very long time.
‘Listen,’ I say. ‘That was brilliant. Now all we have to do is practise. Okay? Keep practising and practising. Until you stop feeling scared. And then you’ll be ready to tell other people. Strangers. What Grandpa did. Okay?’
‘I can’t do it,’ says Bertie, stiffening again.
‘Yes you can Bertie,’ I say. ‘I believe in you. And so does Uncle Patrick. You’re strong and you can do this. I promise.’
58
When we get back to the castle, I see Danny roaming around the gardens in a red dressing gown and slippers.
He’s smoking a rolled-up cigarette and frowning.
‘Aren’t you cold, Danny?’ I call out, putting an arm around Bertie’s shoulder.
‘Sis! I wondered where you’d gone. Nah – not cold. Good to get some fresh air really. I’ll tell you one thing. We’re a long way from Camden town up here, aren’t we? There’s no bloody mobile phone signal.’
‘Tell me about it.’ I smile. ‘But in some parts of the castle there’s signal. Do you want me to show you?’
‘Yep. Need to phone the little lad. He’ll have forgotten all about me.’
‘Why don’t you bring him up here for a bit?’ I ask. ‘For the wedding.’
‘He’d like that. It sounds like you’re going to be crowned Queen of England or something.’
‘Not quite,’ I laugh. ‘Although you never know …’
As we get closer, Danny stoops down so he’s Bertie’s height. ‘And you must be Bertie? Am I right? I have a little lad about your age, you know. We should have a game of football some time.’
I’m about to tell Danny that Bertie is a little bit shy. But then Bertie says:
‘Yes please!’ In a big bright voice.
I’m surprised. ‘Bertie doesn’t usually take to strangers,’ I tell Danny.
‘I’m not strange,’ says Danny. ‘Am I Bertie?’
‘No,’ says Bertie. ‘You’re Sera’s brother.’
‘That’s right! How did you know that?’
‘You look like her. Were you in an accident?’
‘Yep. But from now on, I’m staying out of trouble. Do you get into trouble sometimes Bertie? Or are you a good boy?’
‘I get into trouble,’ says Bertie.
‘Hardly,’ I tell him. ‘The only trouble you get into is caused by other people. You are a good boy, Bertie. A very good boy. Come on. Let’s get you inside and get some food into you.’
‘Sounds like a good idea,’ says Danny, stubbing his cigarette out on the castle wall. ‘What are we having?’
‘You and your bottomless stomach,’ I laugh. ‘Whatever the housekeeper has, I guess.’
‘Ooo, get you! The housekeeper,’ Danny teases. ‘Sounds like you’re getting used to the high life.’
I grin. ‘You know, I just might be.’
59
After Danny has made his phone call, we head up to the West Wing lounge.
Daphne and Patrick are already there.
‘Well, well,’ says Daphne, smiling softly. ‘And who might this strapping young lad be? Another Harper, surely? He has your eyes, Seraphina.’
‘How do you do,’ says Danny, reaching forward and shaking Daphne’s hand. He nods at Patrick. ‘All right mate? Look, I really haven’t had a chance to thank you. I appreciate the help, I really do.’
‘Don’t mention it,’ says Patrick, his eyes fixed on me. ‘How’s Bertie?’
‘He’s good,’ I say, steering Bertie towards a sofa. ‘We had a good talk. And … I think we can do this. Bertie is a very strong little boy.’
‘He certainly is,’ says Daphne.
Danny throws himself on a sofa. ‘Nice in here, isn’t it?’ He’s still wearing his dressing gown, and it falls open showing red boxer shorts.
‘Danny!’ I shout.
Danny looks down. ‘Oh right. Sorry. Keep forgetting I’m not in my own home.’ He grins at everyone, pulling his dressing gown together. ‘So. What’s the plan for the wedding then? When’s Dad coming down?’
‘Um … I haven’t told Dad about the wedding yet.’
‘You haven’t?’
‘I’ve been trying but the calls won’t connect. He must be on the road.’
‘Well you’d better tell him quick,’ says Danny. ‘Or he might end up missing it.’
‘I know. I know, it’s just … the longer I leave it, the harder it is.’
‘I don’t get what’s so hard.’
‘Seraphina doesn’t want me meeting her family,’ says Patrick, throwing a smile my way. ‘Isn’t that right?’
‘Um …’
‘Can’t say I blame you,’ says Danny. ‘I mean, our family aren’t exactly … well. We’re a bit out of place somewhere like this, if you know what I mean. But Dad’s all right. Decent and honest.’
‘And dead against rushing into things,’ I say. ‘He’s going to be furious at me for getting married so quickly.’
‘You’re probably right there,’ says Danny. ‘But even so. You need to hurry up and call him. Why don’t you try now?’ Danny pulls his mobile out of his dressing gown pocket. ‘Here. Catch.’
I catch the phone. ‘Fine,’ I sigh. ‘I’ll try again. But it’ll be voicemail again. Trust me.’
‘Then leave a message.’
‘Leave a message telling him I’m getting married? I don’t think so.’
60
I settle myself on the sofa next to Patrick and make the call.
The call connects and Dad picks up on the second ring.
‘Danny boy!’
‘No – it’s not Danny, Dad. It’s Sera.’
‘Sera? Sweetheart! What are you doing with Danny’s phone?’
‘Danny’s here with me.’
‘How are you both?’
‘Good. Great actually.’ I take a deep breath. ‘Dad, I’ve been trying to phone you for a while. I have something to tell you.’
‘Uh oh.’
‘No. It’s good news really. Um … Dad, I’m getting married.’
There’s a long pause.
‘I’m sorry love, the line’s bad here. I thought you said … did you say you were getting married?’
‘Yes.’
Another long pause.
‘You’re not pulling my leg are you?’
‘No.’ I smile. ‘It’s not a joke. I really am getting married Dad.’
‘But … I didn’t even know you had a boyfriend.’
‘I didn’t. Until recently.’
‘So who is he? Have I met him?’
‘No. But you might have heard of him. His name is Patrick Mansfield.’
‘Patrick … Patrick … no, it doesn’t ring a bell. Wait. He’s not one of Danny’s friends is he? God – tell me he isn’t. You could do better than—’
‘No,’ I laugh. ‘He … well I suppose you could say I met him at work.’
‘Oh? What does he do then?’
‘He’s sort of a groundskeeper. At a castle.’ I decide not to tell Dad that Patrick is a Lord and owns a castle. He’s already got enough to take in.
‘Oh. Right. So he likes the outdoors, does he?’
‘Yes he does.’
‘Sera love … don’t you think … I mean this all sounds very sudden. How well do you really know this man?’
‘Really well.’
‘But how can you? You’ve only known him five minutes.’
‘But … I know him Dad. And he knows me. This is the right thing.’
‘Your mother and I rushed into marriage. It’s never a good idea
to rush. This man could be a monster for all you know.’
‘He’s a good man, Dad. I promise. Ask Danny and Wila. Ask anyone.’
I feel Patrick’s arms squeeze around mine. ‘May I speak with him?’ he asks.
‘Dad, Patrick … uh, he wants to speak to you.’
‘Put him on,’ says Dad, and I can hear him getting all puffed up. ‘I want to speak to him too. This man who wants to marry my daughter in so much of a hurry.’
I cover the receiver and say to Patrick: ‘Are you sure this is a good idea? He’s pretty upset.’
‘Seraphina. It’ll be fine.’ Patrick takes the phone out of my hand. ‘Mr Harper? Your daughter is the best thing that ever happened to me. The most beautiful, pure hearted, brave woman I’ve ever met. And I will be honoured to be part of her family. May I invite you up to the castle at your soonest convenience for an honorary dinner before the wedding?’
I smile to myself, thinking of my dad getting all flustered on the other end of the line. He’s a sucker for anyone saying nice things about his children.
A moment later, Patrick says: ‘It’s settled then. I’ll arrange the flight. And I am very much looking forward to meeting you sir.’
He hangs up the phone and throws it back to Danny.
‘Sir!’ Danny laughs. ‘That’s the first time the old man will have been called that.’
‘But not the last,’ says Patrick, his eyes hard. ‘I intend to treat your father with the utmost respect when he arrives.’
‘So he’s coming here?’ I say.
‘Yes he is.’
‘When?’
‘Tomorrow.’
‘Excellent!’ says Danny, clapping his hands together. ‘I love a few fireworks.’
‘What fireworks?’ I say.
‘Sort of a groundskeeper?’ Danny raises an eyebrow at me. ‘Was that your way of telling Dad that Lord Patrick here owns half of Scotland?’
‘One thing at a time Danny,’ I say. ‘Let him meet Patrick first.’
‘Just make sure I’m there when he does,’ says Danny, rubbing his hands together. ‘I can’t wait.’
61
The next day, Patrick, Danny and I travel to Edinburgh airport by limousine.
Bertie stays with Daphne.
We wait for Dad by the arrivals gate.
When Dad comes through the gate, he looks small, tired and older than I remember.
He’s pretty short, my dad. With very white hair and a kindly, shrivelled up face. He always reminds me a little of a garden gnome without the beard.
He’s wearing his usual truckers uniform of blue jeans and a blue denim jacket, with a black t-shirt underneath.
Danny waves when he sees him. ‘Oi! Dad! Over here!’
I wave too, feeling self-conscious all of a sudden. Like a bad daughter.
Patrick stands tall behind me, hard and solid. He insisted on wearing a suit to meet my father. I tried to tell him that there was no need. That my dad would be more comfortable if he wore jeans. But Patrick wouldn’t hear of it.
As my dad comes closer, tattered black rucksack on his shoulders, Patrick steps forward.
‘An honour to meet you, Mr Harper sir. An honour.’
He grabs my dad’s hand and shakes it heartily.
Dad looks up. And up. ‘So you’re the man who wants to marry my daughter? And what makes you think you’re good enough?’
I put my hand to my forehead. ‘Great Dad. Thanks for starting everything off on the right foot.’
Patrick laughs. ‘I’m not sure anybody is good enough for Seraphina, Mr Harper. But I can promise that I’ll dedicate my whole life to trying.’
‘You two have barely known each other five minutes,’ says Dad. ‘Don’t get carried away with yourselves.’
‘Mr Harper, when Seraphina was born did you know you loved her?’
‘Of course I did,’ says Dad, puffing out his chest. ‘I knew I’d do anything for her. That I’d protect her for the rest of my life.’
‘And yet you’d only known her five minutes.’
‘That’s different—’
‘It’s not. When you’re in love, you know it. In here.’ Patrick thumps his chest. ‘Seraphina is meant to be with me. I’ll make her happy. I promise you that.’
‘We all make promises—’
‘Patrick would never break a promise,’ I say, taking Patrick’s hand. ‘He’s the most honest man I’ve ever met. Look – I’m sorry this has all been sprung on you. I should have told you sooner. But I was scared you’d disapprove. I love Patrick, Dad. More than anything. And like he says, when you know you know.’
‘Well.’ Dad scratches his white stubble. ‘How’s about we go get a cup of tea somewhere?’
‘An excellent idea,’ says Patrick. ‘Where would you like to go, Mr Harper? We can serve afternoon tea back at the castle. Or take refreshment at the airport lounge – it’s very comfortable. I can vouch for the standard of the coffee and the catering.’
‘If your employer will let you take afternoon tea at the castle, well … that sounds very nice.’
I hear a splurt of laughter.
‘Shut up Danny,’ I hiss.
I glance at Patrick.
Patrick says: ‘Actually Mr Harper—’
‘Yes!’ I interrupt. ‘That sounds like a great idea Dad. You’ll love the castle. It’s really beautiful.’
‘Must be nice to work at a castle,’ says Dad, as we head out of the airport, and towards our limo.
‘Yes it is,’ I say.
‘Actually I was talking to—’
‘So how was the flight?’ I interrupt, steering Dad towards the limo.
62
In the limo, Dad stares out of the window.
‘It’s been years since I’ve come to Scotland,’ he says. ‘I always loved it. Beautiful scenery. And the Scots like their whisky, isn’t that right Patrick?’
‘I enjoy a drop or two,’ says Patrick. ‘How about we open a bottle when we get back to the castle? And we can really get to know each other?’
‘No!’ I blurt out. ‘I mean, Dad’s had a long flight and I’m sure he’ll be tired. You’ll just want to go to bed, won’t you Dad?’
‘It’s only the afternoon,’ says Dad. ‘A drop of whisky would be just the ticket. Then me and your young man can have a good talk.’
That’s what I’m afraid of, I think.
‘I could go a drop of whisky,’ says Danny, his feet up on the leather seats. He winks at me. ‘Always good to have a drink to watch the fireworks.’
I glare at him.
‘So Patrick,’ says Dad. ‘This employer of yours must be a very generous fellow.’
‘I beg your pardon?’ says Patrick.
‘To put on a limo for his staff. Very generous indeed.’
Patrick glances at me. ‘Seraphina. I get the feeling you haven’t told your father as much about me as you should.’
‘Um … look, maybe we can talk about all this later.’
‘I don’t like dishonesty,’ says Patrick. ‘It’s a bad idea. Everything should be out in the open. Clear from the start.’
‘Seraphina.’ Dad puts on his serious parent voice. ‘Your young man is right. You should be honest with me.’ He blinks. ‘It’s nothing terrible, is it? You’re all right, aren’t you?’
‘I’m fine,’ I say.
‘Better than fine,’ says Danny. ‘She’s practically royal these days.’
‘Danny.’
‘Okay. Enough’s enough,’ says Dad. ‘Will someone tell me what’s going on?’
‘I think we should wait until we’re back at the castle,’ I say. ‘And you’ve had something to drink.’
63
Back at the castle, we show Dad his room – which is right next to Danny’s. He keeps going on about what a fine employer Patrick must have, to let family stay over.
Patrick’s jaw is so tight I think it might snap. But he doesn’t say anything. Instead, he escorts us to the top of the castle an
d into a room called the Turret Bar.
It’s a comfortable bar room with a pool table and darts board, and opens out onto a rooftop balcony.
There are red sofas and bar stools, and a long, wooden bar lined with different kinds of whisky.
Patrick goes straight behind the bar and grabs three shot glasses. ‘Let me give you gentleman one of Scotland’s finest. McDouglas Triple Distilled. Clear as a loch in spring time.’
He pours three drinks and pushes two towards Dad and Danny.
I laugh. ‘Hang on. So all the men get to drink whisky, but I don’t?’
‘I was just getting you a Dandelion and Burdock—’
‘I’d prefer whisky. I think I need it today.’
‘It’ll blow your head off.’
‘I can manage it.’
‘She can you know,’ says Danny. ‘She’s drunk me under the table many a time.’
‘Bertie’s with Daphne. It’s fine. I can have a drink,’ I insist. ‘And I love whisky. It matches my hair colour.’
‘A small one then,’ says Patrick, pouring a single measure into a shot glass.
‘Why can’t I have the same size as everyone else?’ I insist.
‘Seraphina, you can’t deny biology. Women are smaller.’
‘I’m taller than dad.’
‘I’d give her a drink if I were you mate,’ says Danny. ‘Or you’ll never hear the end of it.’
Patrick tips more whisky into the glass. ‘Don’t blame me if it goes straight to your head. This is strong stuff.’
I feel our fingers touch as Patrick passes me the glass and I get a little electric shock.
‘Don’t go getting blind drunk, Miss Harper,’ says Patrick.
‘I won’t.’
‘So.’ Danny grabs his whisky. ‘Who’s going to tell Dad about Patrick’s employment situation then?’
‘Danny.’ I glare at him. ‘You are such a trouble maker.’
‘But at least I’m fun.’
I sigh. ‘Only some of the time.’
Dad takes a sip of whisky. ‘Christ! This is good stuff, isn’t it? It does knock your socks off a bit.’
‘Dad—’
‘It’s okay Seraphina,’ says Dad. ‘I think I know what’s going on here. Has your young man lost his job, Seraphina? Is that what this big secret is?’
