Lizzie’s Daughters
Page 30
Francie frowned as she took the huge envelope. Opening it, she withdrew the magazine inside and saw the picture Michael had taken of her smiling at him as the wind blew her hair. She’d been wearing a coat over her glamorous dress and bent over her sketch pad, a thoughtful look on her face. She read the title and saw it was a photography magazine. Turning to the title page, she read out aloud the dedication, which said that the cover was of a young model named Francie Winters taken by Michael – and it had won a prestigious photography competition.
She saw that a brief message had been slipped inside the pages.
Sorry, it was the best I could do. I tried Vogue, because I thought they might use it for a cover as I said, but they refused it so I thought this was the next best thing. Happy Christmas Francie and hope to see you around…
Francie handed the magazine and the note to Betty. She frowned over it and returned it with a lift of her brows.
‘It’s a wonderful cover, Francie – not what you wanted but a nice gesture on his part…’
‘Yes…’ Francie’s smile was beautiful and Betty felt her sister’s happiness reach out to touch her. ‘It doesn’t matter now, Betty. I’ve made up my mind. Modelling was fun for a while and I enjoyed doing it – but Michael was right, it isn’t really the life I want. He’s an artist in his own field and he recognised my talent – art is what I do best and I’m going to work hard and try to learn all that I can so that perhaps one day I’ll have my own shows in London, Paris and even New York.
‘I’m sure you will,’ Betty told her lovingly. ‘If these portraits are a taste of what is to come, you’ll be a real talent one day, love. I can see your pictures selling for thousands of pounds and all the rich people in the world will want to own one. I’ll be offered a fortune for my painting, but I’ll never sell even if I’m starving in a garret…’
‘You’ll probably be rich and famous long before that,’ Francie said. ‘I’ll be known as the sister of that famous fashion designer…’
‘What are you two girls giggling over?’ Lizzie asked, smiling at them indulgently as they both fell about laughing.
‘Francie’s picture has won a prestigious prize for the photographer,’ Betty said and took it to her.
‘It’s lovely, Francie,’ their mother said and passed it on to Beth and then Sebastian took it. He looked at it for ages and then smiled his approval.
‘I’d like to meet this gentleman,’ he said. ‘I’d like a copy of this blown up to portrait size so that I can frame it… and perhaps he’d take photos of the family…’
‘I think he’s too busy, Dad,’ Francie said. ‘He’s a famous freelance fashion photographer, based in London, but he’s hardly ever here, because he’s in such demand…’
‘In that case he might care to come to Paris while we’re there next summer,’ Sebastian replied, his eyes never leaving her face. ‘I want a copy of this, Francie – and then I’ll have both my beautiful girls on the wall of my study…’ He looked proudly at the painting Francie had done of her sister.
Betty and Francie looked at each other and started giggling and clutching each other.
‘And what is so funny about that?’ Sebastian asked with a straight face, even though his eyes were laughing with them. ‘One of these days, when I’m old and grey and all my children have grown up and flown the nest, I’ll need something to remind me of my lovely daughters.’
‘We’ll never leave you alone for long,’ Betty promised. ‘We might be married or famous, we might even be living miles and miles away, but we’ll always be in touch… won’t we, Francie?’
‘Of course you will,’ Lizzie said and her smile embraced them all. ‘You’re our daughters and your father wants you to be happy and make your own lives and families. That is what having children is all about… the start of more families that go on and on until you are just a fond memory in the distant past…’
‘That’s very profound, Lizzie,’ Miriam said. ‘I didn’t realise you were such a deep thinker…’
‘I’m not,’ Lizzie disclaimed, ‘but I know that my family is what makes me happy. Success in business is good and it means you can afford the nice things in life… but loving and giving and enjoying your family is the important bit…’
‘Yes, I agree with you,’ Tony said surprising them all. ‘I wanted Matt to come into the business with me, but I’ve realised that he has his own talents and it’s only fair he has his chance to make them work… so I’ll be training up a younger man to help me – and you can do what makes you happy, son…’
‘Dad…’ Matt looked at him in surprise. ‘Thanks, that’s big of you to say it in front of everyone.’
‘Well, it is Christmas,’ Tony said gruffly. ‘And I’ve probably had too much of Sebastian’s wine and brandy…’
‘Have another glass,’ Sebastian said and lifted the decanter. ‘To the family… all of us, because each and every one of us is a part of Lizzie’s family and mine…’
‘To Beth and Tony and Matt…’ Lizzie raised her glass just as the telephone shrilled. Beth jumped up and ran to answer it. They could hear her voice chattering excitedly and when she returned a few minutes later she was beaming all over her face.
‘Jenny has a daughter and they’re both doing well,’ she said. ‘She’s having a rest now but we can go and see her later this evening…’
‘Oh, Beth, that’s wonderful,’ Lizzie said and got up to embrace her friend. ‘You must be so excited and happy for her.’
‘I can’t quite believe it,’ Beth said and looked at Tony. ‘We’re grandparents…’
‘This calls for a celebration,’ Sebastian said and produced the bottle of champagne he’d had cooling in the fridge.
‘Oh, I couldn’t…’ Beth looked at Tony. ‘Well, perhaps just one, although we’ve both had rather a lot to drink already…’
‘You can’t go without celebrating something like that,’ Sebastian insisted, pouring drinks into fragile crystal glasses. ‘I kept this back specially to toast the baby’s head.’
‘Yes, we’ll stay for the champagne,’ Tony said and Matt grinned at his mother.
‘Don’t worry, Mum. I’m driving because I’ve only had one glass of wine,’ he said and grinned, ‘and I’ll be taking you to the hospital this evening so just relax and enjoy the moment. It isn’t every day you become a grandparent for the first time…and I’m an uncle…’
‘No, it isn’t…’ Beth giggled and sat on the arm of Lizzie’s comfortable chair. ‘I’m so excited I don’t know whether I’m on my head or my heels…’
‘That’s too much of Sebastian’s wine or something…’ Matt teased and a look in his eyes made Betty go into a fit of giggles. He raised his brows at her, winked and then turned to Miriam. ‘Can we give you a lift home? I can assure you that I’m quite sober…’
‘That’s kind of you, Matt… yes, why not, but I’d rather have a cup of tea than champagne if you don’t mind, Sebastian.’
‘I’ll make it, Dad,’ Betty said and jumped up from her seat on the soft rug in front of the fire. Matt got up and followed her into the kitchen, saying that he would help her.
‘Dad’s generosity means I could come to Paris with you, Betty,’ he said. ‘I can write there as well as anywhere so we’ll get to spend time together that way…’
‘Yes, that would be nice,’ Betty said and closed the door behind them.
It was more than an hour later when Sebastian finally saw all their guests to the door and then came back to the sitting room and looked at his daughters.
‘Washing up time, you two! We’ll do it between us – and you will sit where you are, Lizzie.’
‘I can help…’
‘Do as Dad says, Mum,’ Betty said. ‘You were cooking all morning and we’re full of energy, aren’t we, Francie?’
‘Yep,’ Francie said and bounced up. ‘Most of it was done earlier; it’s only glasses and small plates – oh, and the trifle dishes. We made pigs of ourselves, Mum, and ate the lot…’
She ran after her sister and father and Lizzie heard them laughing and giggling in the kitchen as they worked. The sound was sweet music to her ears. They sounded so happy and she knew that as a family and individually they were all happy at this moment in time. Yes, her daughters would have bad days to come as well as good ones, because that happened to everyone, but for now they were happy, just as she and Sebastian were.
Her lovely daughters were showing their true natures by looking after her and she knew how lucky she was to have such a generous family. Not just Sebastian and her daughters, but Beth and her family, Aunt Miriam – and others who had not been there today but were not forgotten. Romany was spending Christmas with her latest man and Ed had found a widow he was enjoying spending time with. She’d asked him round for Christmas Day and it was the first Christmas for years that he’d not come to Lizzie for his dinner. She was glad he was content, though he’d never remarried.
In the summer they would do as Sebastian had suggested and take a house in France. Betty could send designs to her friends in Paris and meet up with them in a few months, when she was surer of what she wanted to do with her life, and Francie could work hard at college and try to pass the exam for the French art school.
It was a new adventure, another stage of their lives, and Lizzie was looking forward to it, just as she was to the birth of her son. Her daughters stood at a threshold and both of them were about to embark on the journey of a lifetime that would bring excitement, happiness, some sadness of course, and perhaps fame – but she would have a new life, a new child to care for.
Lizzie smiled with contentment. Happy just to sit back and watch them – her daughters. It was time to let them spread their wings and fly…
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Addictive Fiction
First published in the UK in 2017 by Aria, an imprint of Head of Zeus Ltd
Copyright © Rosie Clarke, 2017
The moral right of Rosie Clarke to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act of 1988.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.
This is a work of fiction. All characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
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A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
ISBN (E) 9781786692979
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