by Peter Martin
‘I know nothing of that, Garry. I do a job same as anyone else. But there really is nothing to worry about, and you won’t have to wait long now,’ Kala assured them. ‘You will be well looked after and just look around, it’s a beautiful place for a holiday.’
Garry chose not to comment, he supposed the others were sceptical too. Chris, however, had a face like thunder. But within a few minutes, a noise, almost like a tractor engine, or large diesel powered van could be heard in the distance. They all turned to see a sizeable people carrier type vehicle approaching down the dusty runway, driven at breakneck speed. Suddenly it came to an abrupt stop, the driver hastily got out, and without looking at anyone in the small group, opened all of the car doors and the boot, then just as quickly sat back in the driving seat.
‘Here we are, Garry, everyone,’ Kala said. ‘Akoni will take us to the house. Please do not be offended by his curt attitude, he’s deaf and dumb.’
After loading all their belongings in the boot, they all piled in, Garry and Delia sat in the front with Akoni and Kala, the rest squeezed in the back, all tightly packed. Glancing around to see if everyone was settled, Kala tapped Akoni on the shoulder, and away they sped.
He drove off down the runway stopping only to first open a gate and then lock it again behind them. Travelling on a very narrow track through the dense forest the vehicle struggled to get through, and on occasions, ripped the overhanging branches and plants that dared block their way.
Surprisingly, the van was not air-conditioned, and even with the windows open, it was oppressively hot. The climate reminded Garry of Montriga, but out here in the wilderness, it was hard to contend with the flies and other airborne insects around them. He found himself constantly brushing insects off with his hands, and hoped it wouldn’t be a problem indoors. His mind was temporarily distracted as the vehicle picked up speed, Akoni drove with a reckless abandon that defied sanity, and Garry held on for dear life with hands clenched to the sides of the seat. How Akoni found his way through and didn’t lose sight of the track, Garry couldn’t imagine, but somehow he did. All that could be seen was a mass of trees and plants that only occasionally let in the sun. There seemed no end to this vast jungle. The only one who seemed happy was Adam. And little did Garry know there was worse to come.
Now travelling uphill, the trees and vegetation became more spread out, allowing the crude road to widen and encouraging Akoni to drive ever faster.
Having travelled for about half an hour, they were now in the open on a sort of precipice; giving views to the valley below on one side and a huge ten feet high mesh fence on the other. Swinging round bend after bend, to the right then the left, at no time in his life had Garry ever had such a hair-raising experience. And right now had the urge to take the steering wheel from this maniac. A few hundred yards further on they turned a sharp left on to what appeared no more than a dirt track, thick with undergrowth to each side. After about sixty seconds, to Garry’s relief, the vehicle slowed down, directly ahead were large double gates. Akoni swiftly opened them with the remote control on the dashboard; and once the vehicle was through, the gates closed automatically. The track had now widened and was skirted with grass of about six feet high. This gave way to a landscaped area of gardens containing lawns, with all manner of flowers, trees and hedges. And straight in the middle, stood a two storey house its sandstone brickwork stood out in the bright sunlight. Charlene’s photographs didn’t do the place justice at all. And from the silence in the car, it seemed it had taken everyone’s breath away. Garry smiled to himself, it was what his mum might have called ‘Fit for a Queen’.
But he was brought back to reality by the crunch of gravel under the vehicle’s wheels, finally coming to a stop in front of double oak doors. Three cars were parked on the drive, a Rolls Royce, a Mercedes and a Morgan sports car. Another symbol of wealth.
After getting out of the vehicle Garry could contain himself no longer saying to Kala, ‘I recognise this from the pictures we were shown. But I have to say it’s about twice the size I imagined it to be and much more grand. In fact, it’s more like a mansion than a house.’
‘I see you are impressed – yes. Just wait until you see inside!’
Making their way up the three steps the double oak doors were opened by a thin young man standing just inside the doorway; his corkscrew hair, beady eyes, and goatee beard looked out of place with the smart black uniform bedecked with red buttons and a red bow tie on a white shirt. He bowed to them as a form of greeting, nodding to Kala whom he obviously knew.
‘Good afternoon Garry and family. Welcome to the house. Won’t you please come in,’ the footman waved them into the hallway, the floor to which was tiled in red and white marble causing Adam to jump from square to square.
As the front doors shut, Garry noticed how the flamboyantly dressed footman, fitted in with the opulence of the place. He was finding it hard to swallow that he could be connected with anyone who actually owned this mansion. And imagined that in the hallway alone, with its several doors, grand staircase and gallery, it would be easy to fit in the biggest part of his own modest house.
Still feeling apprehensive, Garry kept telling himself it would work out fine, and any pitfalls he’d imagined along the way would probably never happen. Ushered along through the third door on the left, by the footman, they were now in a large spacious room which at first sight resembled a ‘posh’ doctor’s waiting room rather than a homely room. Two settees were placed either side of the fireplace and a number of armchairs and coffee tables dotted around. It’s only saving grace being the French doors overlooking a patio area and garden beyond.
‘Please take a seat everyone. Now then, would any of you like refreshments? I imagine you must be hungry after such a long journey.’
Garry answered for his family saying, ‘Thank you, that would be very kind.’ And looking around he realised Kala was no longer there and wondered at what point she’d left.
‘Good, I shall bring refreshments to you very shortly. In the meantime, please make yourselves comfortable.’
A few minutes later he returned pushing a trolley containing platefuls of various sandwiches, a bowl of fruit and hot and cold drinks.
‘Help yourselves to whatever you like,’ he told them.
A general murmuring of ‘Thank You’ came from the group.
Without stopping to think Garry asked, ‘Just a minute. Can you tell me when we’ll be meeting up with my mother?’
‘I’m sorry, I’ve no idea. I’m just here to make sure you’re comfortable. But I can assure you, you’re very welcome and will be well looked after. Someone else will be along presently – who will answer any questions you might have.’ He then turned on his heels and left. And with that, they all helped themselves to drinks and the delicious sandwiches.
A little later Garry sat back in an armchair and stretched out his legs, he didn’t say anything to the others, just closed his eyes. His nerves were frayed as he tried to envisage what would happen next. Before long his thoughts were interrupted by Tom saying, ‘This certainly is a grand place, Dad.’
But Jane answered instead saying, ‘Yes, must have cost an absolute fortune.’
‘Well, to say she must have plenty of money is a bit of an understatement.’ Garry gazed around as if to emphasise his words.
‘Lucky woman.’ Delia said shaking her head.
‘No doubt, she’s had to work really hard to achieve this. I shouldn’t think there was any element of luck to it.’ Garry countered defensively. ‘And she can please herself how much she wants to spend.’
‘Well, how great for her. So what did she do, or moreover, who did she walk over to get it?’ Chris said bluntly.
Garry chose to ignore Chris’s last remark saying, ‘Oh to be rich.’
Just then the door opened and in strode Charlene looking as beautiful as ever, wearing jeans and a pink short sleeved blouse, her blond hair tied loosely back. She smiled warmly at the family saying, ‘Hallo th
ere Garry, Delia, everybody… glad to see you made it here safely. So what are your first impressions of the house?’ She walked further into the room to sit on the mahogany desk.
‘Mind boggling.’ Garry answered. ‘I for one wouldn’t like to guess how much all this is worth. It literally is out of this world.’
‘Well, I think it’s fantastic too, Grandad!’ Adam said looking over to Garry thrilled.
Then as down to earth as ever, Chris summed it up in a nutshell by saying, ‘It doesn’t need to be said because it’s obvious - whoever this belongs to is a multimillionaire.’
‘That’s true Chris.’ Charlene conceded
‘So how did they make their fortune?’
Charlene didn’t answer Cassie’s question, instead, she laughed saying, ‘Don’t worry, you’ll find out soon enough.’ But when she could see the conversation had dried up she continued, ‘I don’t know, you’re all so impatient. All in good time, my friends. You’ll learn everything in due course, it’s just a matter of waiting a little while longer.’
‘It’s frustrating for us – I had hoped she’d be at the door waiting to greet us,’ Garry said.
‘No, no, that’s not how things are done here. I have my itinerary and the first item on it is a grand tour of the house and its grounds. That’s if you’re not too tired after your long flight.’
‘I’d love to have a good look round,’ Delia said eagerly. And turning to Garry, his eyebrows raised, she continued, ‘You always say I’m nosey, and anyway we did get some sleep on the plane.’
‘Ok, I give in, love.’ Garry looked at his family with a wry smile and said, ‘When your mother’s in this sort of mood it’s best to go with the flow.’
‘Good, say no more. Well, when you’ve finished your drinks, I’ll begin the grand tour.’ Charlene told them.
And with that, they were soon up on their feet and ready to go.
‘Right then, if you’d like to follow me,’ Charlene said, walking towards the door.
She guided them back through the hall and starting with the rooms on the ground floor took them into the drawing room. Where the brick built fireplace with its ornate over mantle had been set with logs ready to be lit, and on the hearth was a huge Persian carpet. The walls were adorned with a number of oil paintings, one of which Garry recognised as a Lowry. But sitting uneasily among such grandeur in one corner a computer and in the other a plasma television. But when Adam sat on the velvet settee and proceeded to find out just how well sprung it was, they were all brought down to earth. After making a quick exit they found themselves in the dining room, in the middle of which stood a long Hepplewhite table surrounded by around twenty matching chairs. Along one wall stood a sideboard with a silver centrepiece made up with fresh flowers. Garry sensed his wife and daughter were in awe of everything they saw, but it would be difficult to live in such splendour; for one, Adam would be very long faced if he was unable to play normally for fear of damaging the furniture.
The ‘grand tour’ as Garry saw it went on, room after room, in fact, they had a room for everything, breakfast room, snooker room, a mini cinema, an orangery complete with a small swimming pool and that was only downstairs.
When it got to the upstairs, what with the endless bedrooms, bathrooms, four poster beds, and Jacuzzi’s, Garry felt he’d had enough and said, ‘Look, we’ve been travelling over twenty-four hours, do you think we could go to our rooms and freshen up in one of the bathrooms on show in this place?’
‘I just need to show you one more room, at the end of this corridor. It’s the most important, which is why I’ve left it till last. We call it the Awards and Pictures room. Come on, it may even answer some of your questions.’
She unlocked the door and in they filed.
‘Wow!’ Adam exclaimed yet again on entering.
This was akin to entering an art gallery. Gold and platinum discs hung on the far wall, presumably music awards. And in the right-hand corner stood a cabinet containing several statuettes and plaques, awards for roles of stage and screen. The other walls displayed framed pictures of famous people - film stars and several heads of state – which suggested the occupants of this house were well-to-do and probably in the public eye.
On studying the photographs Garry noticed one person common to all the pictures, a well-known celebrity, whose name was on the tip of his tongue - it would come to him soon. Another person in a few of the photographs also seemed familiar. Garry had seen him in several old films of the fifties or sixties. Were these two people connected in some way? Perhaps the older man may have been her manager?
And then out of the blue he recalled seeing a documentary about a very beautiful female country singer of the sixties, Lena Matthews, and this was that lady. She’d sold millions of records and had gone on to become an actress and a massive box office star. The older man was her father Sir Edward Matthews, who, if he remembered correctly, had received a Knighthood for services to the film industry. Although Garry thought he’d heard the man had suffered from cancer and had later died, it was only a vague recollection.
Garry had to concede, Charlene had been right, this room was indeed an eye-opener. If this lady was indeed his mother she must have been very young when he was born. And if the media got wind of her teenage pregnancy some forty odd years ago, coupled with the story of a mysterious adoption then there would certainly be an almighty scandal; which would explain the need for so much secrecy. It was hard to imagine that she could be his mother, and even harder to believe anyone could give away their son. The two question uppermost on his mind now were: how did she hide the fact she’d had a child? And, why did she wait until he was three years old before arranging the adoption? Perhaps these questions would soon be answered.
In her lifetime, she’d been considered by many to be one of the most beautiful women in the world. – and even now after nearly forty years in the business, she could still turn heads. She’d come from a theatrical background, her father a big star in his own right before her. He’d gone to Hollywood in the late forties and been very successful, ranked with the likes of Sir David Melview. The photographs portrayed a father and daughter with big smiles on their faces, both revelling in the limelight wanting to be adored. It sent shivers down his spine as he realised his life would have been altogether different had he been brought up in all of this. That was not to be: these two people his mother and grandfather saw to that. But even though he’d almost moved heaven and earth to get here, he felt satisfied with his lot, he would neither change his family nor his past.
Garry turned away to find Charlene staring at him with a contented smile on her face, she’d obviously been watching him and had enjoyed the moment he’d realised who his mother was.
‘Yes Garry, Lena has come a long way since her beginnings as a very young country singer all those years ago. I hope you all appreciate what an ordeal it’s been for her to find out the son she’d given up has been looking for her – particularly when you consider who she is. You should be very honoured that she’s consented to see you all,’ Charlene said in all seriousness.
‘Well, those are your words, not mine. I, as you’ve already seen, have led an entirely different life from this.’ He indicated with a wave of his hand. ‘And I will admit it is difficult to take in that Lena Matthews is my mother, but I don’t in any way feel honoured that she decided to see me. After all, she gave me away and only agreed, reluctantly I might add, to this meeting when I got close to finding her. But having looked at these photographs one thing which comes to mind – how about my father, was he famous too and who is he?’
A few seconds elapsed before Charlene answered. ‘That’s not for me to answer. I’ll leave Lena to tell you about it herself. But please remember your mother is still one of the biggest film stars in the world, and if I were in her shoes I wouldn’t want adverse publicity after what has been a wonderful career, an untainted one at that.’ Then looking from Garry to Delia, who had just joined her husband, said, ‘Maybe n
ow you’ll understand why we’ve had to be discreet about this?’
When Garry remained silent Delia said, ‘It makes sense I suppose. But I’ve been thinking, things don’t add up. If my memory serves me right, I’d estimate Lena Matthews to be in her late fifties, or early sixties, am I right? Well you’re forty-five, aren’t you Garry?’ He didn’t answer, but, Delia, determined to have her say continued, ‘That would make her anything from 13 to 16 years old when she had you, so when you were conceived she must have been well under the age of consent. Is that what all the fuss is about, Charlene?’
For a moment Charlene seemed completely taken aback by Delia’s blatant observation, but sidestepped her question by turning and saying specifically to Garry, ‘All I can say is, she couldn’t cope with looking after you Garry, and because of her illness, they forced her to give you up. But she’s told me never a day went by when she didn’t think about you; wondering where you were, and what you were doing. Please understand she wasn’t allowed to have any contact with you, even though she wanted to. And now it seems she can’t wait to meet you.’
Garry put on a brave face and tried to smile; he found the whole situation so emotional and was glad Delia hadn’t made any further comment. In truth at first he’d felt unwanted; now he didn’t really know what to think. Why wouldn’t they let him see her? There was just too much to take in – in fact, it was surreal. When he’d pulled himself together he said as calmly as he could, ‘When do we get to meet her, Charlene?’
‘Tonight. This very night. You are all invited to have dinner with her at seven o’clock. And I’m sure she’ll do her best to answer any questions you might have.’
‘Brilliant!’ Garry said, not knowing whether to laugh or cry.
He turned to see his family had now gathered round all seemingly pleased with the turn of events. Delighted in fact with the prospect of meeting a grandparent who’d turned out to be a celebrity, or even what today would be termed as a ‘superstar’.
