by Cathy Ace
Then the real fun began. According to tradition, the newlyweds and the procession of attendees were led along a thankfully dry pathway toward Chellingworth Hall by the energetic dancing of the (sadly, not quite complete) Anwen Morris, replete with their precious tools of the trade. Althea’s arm was taken for the walk by Edward who, as per Twyst tradition, had acted as Henry’s best man, while Clementine and her extended limb were dispatched in a car with Nurse Thomas.
The crowd gathered at the entrance to the hall and waited expectantly as Henry and Stephanie Twyst stepped gracefully over the extra-long broomstick that had been fashioned for the purpose and was wedged across the doorway. A cheer went up, the broomstick was removed, and hundreds of people flooded into the great hall to partake of tasty morsels provided by caterers who even Cook Davies had to admit had done a good job. The Young Wives’ Welsh cakes were swarmed over – under the delighted and watchful eye of Marjorie Pritchard – and the six harpists and the musicians from Cardiff University did a splendid job of making themselves heard above the hubbub, especially when only the harpists played the traditional Welsh tune of ‘The Ash Grove’ which silenced everyone with its sheer beauty and simplicity.
The Hills wandered hand in hand as Carol showed her husband around the rooms that were open; it was David’s first visit to Chellingworth Hall and he enjoyed it very much, though he kept asking Carol if she needed to sit down any time they were near an unoccupied seat. She finally gave in, to make him feel better, but insisted upon selecting a chair in the upper gallery near the balustrade so she didn’t miss anything happening in the main body of the great hall below.
Christine Wilson-Smythe’s parents chatted with as many of the locals as possible, while all the time trying to keep an eye on their daughter. She, meanwhile, had managed to find a quiet corner where she tried to find out from Alexander why he’d made such an effort to completely avoid Stephanie’s father. It had annoyed her, but she wasn’t sure why it should have done. All she could say for sure was Alexander had been acting in a most peculiar manner since he’d been sharing air with the Timbers couple, and she wanted to get to the bottom of it all. She managed to winkle out of him: ‘It’s something and nothing. He’s a retired timber merchant I once did business with. It didn’t turn out to be a satisfactory experience. I just hope the apple has fallen as far from the tree as possible.’
‘You did,’ was Christine’s heartfelt response.
‘This is true,’ acknowledged Alexander with a grin.
‘Was it bad?’ asked Christine pointedly. ‘Whatever you and Stephanie’s dad went through, I mean. Was it when you were …’ – she glanced around, making sure no one could overhear them – ‘Issy?’ she hissed, using the name by which Alexander had been known during his more nefarious years.
Alexander shook his head. ‘Not the Issy years, I’m pleased to say. At least he wouldn’t have anything from those times to hold over me, I don’t believe. But it wasn’t long after, and I was still learning the ropes of property development. I made some poor choices. He was one of them.’
‘Will he remember you because of it?’ she pressed.
‘Don’t know if he’s put two and two together, yet, but, with his now being the father of a duchess, and me here with you on my arm, maybe I have to reconsider the meaning of Mutually Assured Destruction, and, if it comes to it, make sure he understands it the same way.’
She didn’t like the expression on Alexander’s face as he spoke, but, not wanting to spoil the day, Christine decided to pursue the matter at a later date. What history might Alexander Bright and the father of a freshly-minted duchess have in common … and how bad could it be?
Althea Twyst held court in the morning room, as befitting a dowager duchess. She and Mavis had settled on two seats in a corner, and those who wanted to find the matriarch of the possibly-soon-to-be-increasing Twyst family were directed to the correct general area. She looked to be thoroughly enjoying the whole affair, though at one point Mavis suggested she might slow down on the sherry intake.
‘You have a point,’ agreed Althea grudgingly. ‘I am finding that with each glass my level of anxiety about what I should do about Clemmie is increasing.’
Both women regarded Lady Clementine Twyst whose wheelchair was backed into the unused fireplace of the room, her entire body and outstretched leg swathed in yards of lemon voile, offsetting her vivid pink hair which was gelled into swirls and peaks that looked quite alarming. Nurse Thomas was dressed in her best navy uniform and standing guard beside her charge.
‘Aye, kids.’ Mavis sounded resigned as she spoke. ‘We only want what’s best for them, but they never see it that way, do they?’
Annie Parker and her parents were impossible to miss – not only were they among the tallest people in the room, but the size of Eustelle’s hat meant they also had to be given a pretty wide berth. As soon as Annie spotted Tudor, who’d changed from his Morris dancing outfit into a dark suit, she called him over, much to her mother’s disgruntlement. Knowing she had to get to the bottom of whatever it was that was going on between them, Annie confronted her mother.
‘Eustelle, this is ridiculous. You’ve taken against Tudor for no apparent reason, and I want to know why.’
Tudor and Annie looked at Eustelle apprehensively, while Rodney whispered to his wife, ‘You got to say. Go on.’
Eustelle drew herself up to her full height – plus hat – and said, ‘There’s no point you denying it, Tudor Evans, so don’t you bother. I heard you talking to that boy who works for you in your kitchen last night when we were all there and you called my daughter a black you-know-what. And I won’t stand for that. You are not a nice man.’
Tudor and Annie looked at each other with amazement. ‘I said she’s a black what?’ said Tudor simply.
‘The “b” word.’ Eustelle looked about then whispered, ‘Bitch. A black bitch. And her legs is too long. That’s what you said.’
Rodney held his wife’s hand tightly, and nodded at his daughter. ‘That’s what she heard,’ he said sadly.
Eustelle shot a hateful glance at Tudor and Annie’s mouth dropped open – lost for words, for once.
To their surprise Tudor broke his silence by laughing, at first a quiet chuckle, then a full gale of laughter, which caused heads to turn.
‘I don’t know what you t’ink is so funny,’ said Eustelle, ‘you be quiet now. You insulted my child, and I won’t have it. Annie, this man is not the sort of person you should mix with. I t’ought he was a good man, but he ain’t.’
Annie still hadn’t spoken, but Tudor eventually answered the pleading in her eyes. He held up the screen of his phone for her to see. ‘Look. I was talking about a dog. I’m getting a puppy. A Labrador. The bloke I’ve been dealing with got me over to his place the other day – that’s where I had to go off to for a few hours. I told you Annie – I said I had to go to see a man about a dog. Anyway, there are only these two puppies left. See?’ He held the screen toward Eustelle. ‘A yellow and a black. Both are bitches, but the black one looks a bit leggy to me, and she might not turn out to be a good proportion. Besides, she’s always tripping over her own paws. Her balance seems right off. Might be something wrong with her ears. The yellow is perfect. But he reckons he doesn’t want to split them up. Says they’ve “bonded”. But I was telling him on the phone – which must have been what you heard, Eustelle – that I’m not interested in the black one, I just want the yellow one.’ He laughed again, then stopped when he saw the expressions on the faces of all three of the Parkers.
‘I’m sorry you got your wires crossed, Eustelle, but that’s all it was,’ he added in a more subdued tone. ‘If you’d listened a bit better you’d have heard me tell him I also thought that calling them “Sooty” and “Sweep” was a stupid idea because dogs should have proper names like – oh, I don’t know—’
‘Like Rosie and Gertie,’ said Annie, smiling at Tudor. ‘Rosie for the one that looks just like the Andrex puppy ’cause she’s
perfect, and if you had her she’d be Tudor’s Rose—’ she winked – ‘and Gertie for the gangly one. They used to call me Gangly Gertie at school.’
‘There you go, see, they are proper names, though I’m sorry people were so spiteful to you when you were little—’ Tudor smiled gratefully at Annie – ‘but, see, I can’t cope with two puppies, and the pub’s certainly not big enough for two energetic, full-grown Labradors. I know it’s a shame to split them up, but I just can’t take both.’
‘I’ll have Gertie,’ said Annie.
Her mother, father and Tudor all stared at her.
Annie suddenly looked coy. ‘Well, if I’m going to settle in the countryside I should probably have a dog, you know, for security. And I dare say it wouldn’t do me any harm to have to take her for walks. There are some lovely places around here.’
‘We could walk Rosie and Gertie together,’ said Tudor quickly.
‘Maybe we could,’ said Annie, ‘so long as Mum doesn’t object.’
Eustelle Parker looked stunned. ‘Who are you? And what have you done wit’ me daughter?’ she asked Annie. ‘What’s with you, callin’ me “Mum”? Sayin’ you’ll get a dog and take it for walks? You sick, child? Never called me Mum before.’
Annie winked happily at her father who said, ‘Getting yourself a puppy sounds like a great idea, my girl, it’ll help you settle here, I t’ink.’ He returned his daughter’s wink then added, ‘Now I’d better find your mother a drink, and I don’t mean tomato juice.’
Stephanie and Henry Twyst finally managed to find a moment to catch up with Christine and Alexander, interrupting their strained conversation.
‘Thanks for the gift, it’s lovely,’ said Stephanie, kissing Christine on the cheek. ‘Where on earth did you find it?’
‘I’ll be honest,’ replied Christine, ‘Annie sort of inspired me, though she had something rather more modern in mind. I spoke to Alexander who asked around, and, through his various contacts, we tracked it down. One of the dealers who owns a shop in Brighton had it in his personal collection. I knew it would be perfect for you both, if only I could find it.’
‘Thank you, Alexander,’ said Henry, ‘my hat’s off to you. No, our hats are off to you.’ He circled his wife’s waist – which looked tiny in her perfectly-sleeved, simple yet elegant gown of cream duchesse silk which some had said reminded them more of Princess Anne’s wedding dress than Lady Di’s or Kate Middleton’s – and squeezed her lovingly.
‘You’re very welcome, Your Graces,’ said Alexander with a grin.
‘I’ve heard about them, of course,’ said Henry, ‘but I’ve never actually seen one before. I understood they were terribly difficult to find outside a museum. Wonderful provenance. Jolly clever. Very thoughtful. Now, whenever we have visitors, we can show it off and joke that they might have to use it. Mother is always saying I don’t have a sense of humor – this’ll shut her up. A genuine Elizabethan chamber pot, exactly the sort of thing they’d have used when this place was built. Wonderful.’
The foursome raised their glasses to each other and Henry grinned as he said, ‘Bottoms up, my dear wife!’ Henry drained his glass, then noticed Edward was clearing his throat in the manner he reserved for attracting the duke’s attention. Handing his empty glass to his butler Henry said to his bride, ‘Back in a tick,’ and left.
Moments later Edward rang the dinner gong atop the main staircase. The crowd became quiet. ‘My Lords, Ladies and Gentlemen, your hosts, their Graces the Duke and Duchess of Chellingworth.’
Fueled by generous quantities of alcohol, the guests’ applause was hearty rather than polite, and Henry enjoyed having to ask everyone to stop after a moment or two.
‘My wife and I thank you all for helping us mark this very important day when we begin a new life together.’ Henry spoke hesitantly – he’d felt much more confident when he’d made his speech to himself in the bathroom mirror that morning. He cleared his throat in an attempt to give himself time to reflect upon what he wanted to say next. Not good at thinking on his feet, he spoke more quietly and slowly as he added, ‘We all know what’s been going on around here this past few days, and if you didn’t know about it until yesterday, the local constabulary made sure you noticed then. I think the helicopter was the final giveaway.’ Henry blushed when people laughed aloud. ‘So, without further ado, I have someone who wants to speak to you.’
Henry and Stephanie Twyst stood aside as Aubrey Morris walked out of the crowd at the foot of the stairs where he’d been standing largely unnoticed, and climbed up to join the happy couple.
His arm was in a sling, he limped, had two black eyes and an obviously broken nose. He was also blushing to the roots of his thick, sandy hair. A buzz ran through the crowd as his slight frame finally appeared high enough up the staircase for everyone to see him, then spontaneous applause rang out. Licking his dry lips he smiled nervously as he said, ‘Thank you, Your Graces. I … I’m not sure how to begin, but I know I want to thank everyone who was involved with getting me and Ann away from her father. Ann’s not too bad, just a bit dehydrated, they said. She’s stayed at the hospital to be with her mother, who’s in a bed there with three broken ribs, a broken arm and a hairline fracture of the skull.’
‘Give ’em our love, poor dabs,’ shouted a female voice in the crowd.
Aubrey nodded. ‘Yes, I’ll do that. I’m going straight back there after I leave here.’
‘Did Rhys do that to Netta?’ asked a bass voice from the back of the hall.
Again Aubrey nodded. ‘Yes. By then Ann and me were up at his house. He’d taken us back there. I saw him hit Netta flying when she tried to stop him getting away from the police. Knocked her flat, he did. Like I said, Ann’ll be fine, and they think her mam will be too, in time. Him though – Rhys – who knows? The accident he had when he was driving along the main road left him in a bad way. He … um … he might not make it.’
‘Who cares?’ shouted someone.
Aubrey Morris looked around to see who’d spoken, but gave up and said, ‘That’s the funny thing, see. Ann does. Whatever he’s done, he’s her father, and we think he did what he did to us with her health and well-being in mind. To him, he was protecting his child.’
‘What happened?’ shouted another voice. ‘Tell us what happened.’ A general nodding of heads and a rumbling of support followed.
Aubrey looked at Henry, seeking approval, which he got, then he straightened his sling and began, ‘Ann and I were planning a week’s holiday in Rome – next week, after the wedding here, and after our wedding on Tuesday.’ Aubrey blushed as gasps hissed around the great hall. ‘We’ve been planning it for a while, see. I’ll be honest, it was the duke who inspired us to make the move. If someone like the duke can take a big step like this and follow his heart, then so can we – that’s what we said. We thought if we went and got married Rhys wouldn’t be able to keep us apart any more. He’d have to lump it. So we got it all sorted out for Swansea Register Office, next Tuesday, then we were off for our honeymoon to Rome, where we’d always dreamed of visiting. Anyway, Rhys got wind of our plans last Sunday afternoon. He saw Ann coming into their house with a suitcase to pack, and frightened her into telling him what was going on. Went ballistic, he did, then locked her in her bedroom. Ann managed to hang onto her mobile, so she phoned me and we decided it was best if we both made ourselves scarce right away. I jumped into my van, and I went to get her. I parked it where I always do when I visit her, out of sight, just near a lay-by at the bottom of the hill where her house is. It’s where there’s a stump of an old tree where we’ve been forced to hide letters to each other. Rhys began to check her email and her phone, and he started to steal her letters too, see. Anyway, I waited a bit, then she phoned me when she thought he’d gone out, but he hadn’t, so when I got there it all went a bit wrong. He’s pretty strong, is Rhys Roberts, and I’ve never been what anyone would call physical.’
‘You do a lovely job with loose slates on the roof though,
Aubrey,’ called a woman’s voice, breaking the tension in the great hall.
Aubrey smiled, blushed again, and continued, ‘When he’d knocked me down for about the third time, I must have passed out, because I woke up in a barn or something, cold and hurting all over. I was all on my own, and I didn’t really know what had happened. I was tied up with some old rope to a couple of iron rings attached to the wall, and I couldn’t move much. As time passed I heard Ann shouting from somewhere nearby. I gathered she thought we were probably in a couple of old sheep sheds out on the hillside, and that’s where we were both stuck. For hours. Just when it got dark Rhys brought us supplies and blankets, but not much else. I told him I’d be missed, and did my best to persuade him to at least let Ann go, but he just hit me. I told him about the Anwen Morris regalia I had in my van ready for the meeting I was due to have here that Sunday night, which really set him off. He hit me more then, and kicked me too, and he told me in no uncertain terms he didn’t want Ann anywhere near me because of the curse that’s on the Anwen regalia. I tried to explain it was all rubbish, and begged him to let Ann and me go, but he wasn’t having any of it. He took my keys and said he’d get rid of the Morris dancing stuff once and for all. I thought he meant he’d chuck it in the river, or something, but I heard him muttering the best thing to do was to give it to someone else and let them have the problem of everyone in their family dying young. He sounded really bitter when he said it, but I don’t know what happened to it all. I’m sorry if it’s gone forever.’
‘I’ve got it all safe and sound, Aubrey, never you mind. I’ll keep it till you want it all back,’ said Tudor in his deepest bass.
