Marrying Simone

by Anna Jacobs

  He didn’t know when he’d enjoyed an evening so much. He loved watching the emotions play across her face. She was so pretty and vivid, though she didn’t seem to realise it, didn’t give herself credit for anything except being a wife and mother.

  He felt as if he’d known her for ages. They might have different backgrounds and skills, yet they communicated easily and shared a similar sense of humour.

  He hadn’t been lying when he’d told her unpleasant visitor that he wanted to get to know her better. He did. Very much.

  He was sorry when the evening ended. It had been a long time since he’d fancied a woman so much.

  In fact, his body had come back to life with a vengeance since he’d met her. He had worried about his lack of that sort of feeling after the accident. Clearly he needn’t have done. All it had taken to wake him again was a very short time spent with Simone.

  He would have to tread carefully, didn’t want to seem too pushy about that. She would be worth waiting for, he was sure.

  That night she featured in his dreams, of course she did. He hoped he featured in hers too. Unless he was much mistaken she was attracted to him as well.

  All too soon it was Sunday, the day Simone had arranged to meet her relatives. She had mixed feelings about this. Joe sounded very nice, judging by his emails – if you could judge a stranger by email – but she was worried that Lance might be there. His attentions had felt distinctly creepy and she didn’t want anything else to do with him.

  She arrived at Joe’s two minutes exactly after the specified time and sat in the car for a few moments, studying the house. It was another older dwelling, detached and built in red brick but the same size as its neighbours, unlike Pennerton House. The garden was tidy but not especially pretty and there were several cars parked in the street nearby.

  What was she doing, sitting here staring at it? She took a deep breath and got out, carefully undoing the seatbelt that had held the bunch of flowers and bottle of wine safe on the rear seat. She pondered who exactly were her hosts? Joe had told her a little about his relationship to her part of the family, but not which family members would be his other guests.

  Just as she lifted her hand to ring the bell, the door opened and a man smiled at her. ‘I saw you coming. You must be Simone. You look a bit like your father, but like the Pennertons, too, especially the curly hair.’

  ‘I’m pleased to meet you. These are for you.’ She thrust the flowers and wine at him and he took them.

  ‘Thank you.’ He glanced quickly at the label. ‘Australian wine. We love it. I think we’ll save this one to enjoy at our leisure. Come in, do. They’re all looking forward to meeting you.’

  As a woman came along the hall to join them, he gestured, ‘This is my wife, Fern. As I said in my email, she’s the relative and I’m the genealogist.’

  The two women nodded at one another and he added, ‘Look at the lovely flowers she’s brought, Fern.’

  ‘Gorgeous. Thank you, Simone. You go and put them in water, Joe, and I’ll start introducing Simone to our other guests.’

  He pretended to tug a forelock. ‘Yes, ma’am.’

  Fern linked her arm in Simone’s. ‘Come through. I’ll stay by your side to begin with, because you’re bound to get confused. Joe has me well trained and I can tell you which branch of the family tree each person is from.’

  ‘I’m afraid I don’t even know what the different branches are. My father is an appalling communicator about his family, always has been. He says the past should stay there.’

  ‘And your mother? Didn’t she tell you anything? Her family is also connected to the Pennertons.’

  ‘She won’t say much about it either, I’m afraid.’

  Fern stopped moving and frowned. ‘When they came here, they seemed to have got over all the fuss their getting together made, but admittedly they came for a flying visit only and asked me not to have any large family gatherings.’

  ‘It was you they came to see?’

  Fern looked at her in surprise. ‘They didn’t tell you anything at all, did they?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘They came mainly to see Henrietta, who’s a sort of great-aunt, the oldest family member. Your mother was very fond of her, stayed with her grandparents a lot when she was younger, and Henrietta is her grandmother’s younger sister.’

  ‘Someone told me she’s still alive.’

  ‘Yes. And she’d like to see you, if you have time. Come to think of it, her lawyer wanted your mother’s current address as well. I think there’s going to be some sort of small bequest for her. Henrietta is ninety now and she’s tidying up what she owns.’

  Curiouser and curiouser! Simone thought.

  Joe called out from the kitchen, which sounded like a plea for help with something that was cooking, and Fern shouted, ‘Coming.’ She turned to Simone. ‘Everyone here is friendly and happy to let the past go, so I hope you’ll enjoy yourself. You and I will get together another day and I’ll bring you up to date on … well, certain rather delicate family matters. Then we’ll arrange a visit to Henrietta, if that’s all right.’

  ‘Why don’t you and Joe come across to lunch one day next week?’

  ‘It’d be better if I came on my own, if you don’t mind. Joe’s a bit like your father, would rather let the past stay in the past. He’s only interested in the family genealogy in an academic way. And he doesn’t always see eye to eye with Henrietta, who can be a trifle autocratic. Well, more than a trifle, actually, because she had rather an important job back in the day.’

  ‘Then come on your own. Any day will be fine with me. I don’t have any firm engagements. This whole house swap opportunity blew up quite suddenly and I don’t know anyone over here.’

  ‘You do now.’

  ‘Yes. I do now.’ But one encounter didn’t make a friend and she was still missing Libby dreadfully.

  Of course she knew Russ now, but wasn’t sure how that was going to work out, whether it would turn into a long-term friendship. It had been less than two weeks of occasional meetings, but it felt as if she’d known him longer.

  Fern didn’t come back for a while, but people introduced themselves to Simone, so she was never left standing awkwardly wondering who to approach. Some of them said they had Australia on their bucket lists, or they’d visited Sydney during a world cruise. Typically, none of them had visited Western Australia. Not nearly as many tourists ever did.

  These were not poor people, she soon decided. They were treading carefully and studying her as warily as she was studying them.

  To her relief, there was no sign of Lance today.

  When lunch was served, she was taken to help herself at a buffet table before the others as ‘guest of honour’, which embarrassed her. She didn’t pile her plate, just chose a few things she could eat easily. She had given enough luncheon parties for Harvey’s work colleagues to know which foods could slip and slide about your plate.

  A short time later she turned from chatting to one person to see Lance standing in the doorway. Damn!

  ‘Who invited him?’ the woman next to her muttered.

  Simone gave her a quick look and risked asking, ‘What’s his connection to the family? He’s been pestering me for days to get together.’

  ‘You must have money,’ the woman whispered. ‘Don’t believe a word he says and keep your distance. If he wasn’t related, he’d not be joining this party. Look at Fern’s expression. She can’t stand him. You know what? I bet she didn’t invite him. But I suppose she can hardly turf him out now without embarrassing everyone. He’ll be counting on that.’

  Simone felt relieved that she wasn’t expected to welcome Lance with open arms. She tried to keep away from him, but he worked his way skilfully round the room and eventually trapped her in a corner.

  ‘I thought you’d be here,’ he said cheerfully. ‘We must arrange that get-together before we leave.’

  She was glad the woman whose name she couldn’t remember had been
so frank with her. It gave her the courage to say, ‘Maybe after I get back from my trip. Russ and I are going to be taking a holiday together for the next week or so.’

  His expression hardened for a moment or two, then he said with an attempt at lightness, ‘He certainly got in with you quickly.’

  In with her? What a strange thing to say! That wasn’t how you approached making friends – well, not how she did.

  Fern reappeared at her side, threaded an arm through hers and said, ‘There’s someone else I want you to meet. Do get yourself something to eat, Lance.’

  Relieved, Simone went off with her out to the garden. ‘Thanks for rescuing me.’

  ‘I can tell a damsel in distress at three paces,’ her companion said lightly. ‘What day would suit you for me to come and visit?’

  ‘Tomorrow, the day after, whenever.’

  ‘I thought I just heard you say you were going away with some guy.’

  ‘That’s my neighbour. He and I get on well, but I’ve only just met him and we’re not – you know – close. Yet. He kindly pretended we were getting together when Lance dropped in on me.’

  ‘Well, keep up the pretence. There’s a reason for you to stay away from Lance. I’ll tell you tomorrow, if that suits you.’

  ‘That’ll be fine.’

  Half an hour later, Simone again avoided Lance and went to say goodbye to Fern and Joe. ‘I wonder if one of you could walk me out to the car, so that I don’t get waylaid?’

  ‘I’ll do it,’ Fern said. ‘You go and head Lance off, Joe. He’s been pestering poor Simone.’

  ‘You must have something he wants. Leave it to me.’

  At the car, Fern said, ‘Tomorrow then. Give me your address. Oh, bother. I should have brought something out to write on.’

  ‘I have a notebook.’ Simone scrawled her details on a page and tore it out. ‘About noon?’

  ‘Fine by me. You need to know: I’m a coeliac. I can’t eat—’

  ‘I have a friend who’s got that condition. Unless you have any other food problems, you can trust me to cater safely for you and not offer anything with gluten in it, or even anything cross-contaminated by gluten.’

  ‘Thanks. Being coeliac causes trouble with some people who can’t be bothered to learn how to deal with it. As if it’s hard to provide a simple salad and protein.’ Fern looked towards the house. ‘Lance is looking out of the window. Oops, he’s moving across the room. Better get away quickly. I’ll intercept him if he escapes from Joe, who doesn’t like to be blunt with a relative.’ Almost to herself, she added, ‘Most of the women here would have no trouble whatsoever being blunt with Lance.’

  When Simone had left, Fern went back into the house and found Lance waiting for her in the hall.

  ‘Thank you for having me.’

  She nodded and would have continued on her way, but he put an arm across to stop her. ‘And by the way, you’ll not keep me away from her for ever.’

  ‘I don’t know what you hope to gain by pestering her.’

  ‘I need to know what she and her mother are going to be left.’

  ‘That’s Henrietta’s business.’

  ‘And mine. I’ve been cheated before by people in this family and you damned well know it.’

  ‘I don’t happen to agree. It was you trying to cheat your half-brother, if I remember correctly. Only, your mother was too smart for you.’

  ‘That’s not what my lawyer thinks.’

  ‘Been gambling again?’ Fern said. ‘Is that why you’re so desperate?’

  He didn’t answer but she reckoned from the way he scowled that she’d hit the target with that.

  ‘You’d better go now. And don’t come to my house again. I won’t hold back on throwing you out another time. I’d have plenty of willing helpers in the family to do it, too.’

  He shrugged and walked out to a rather old car.

  She was thoughtful as she stood watching him drive away. She’d really like to find out what was going on with Lance and Henrietta’s legacies. But for that, she’d need to speak to Henrietta and the oldest member of the family was playing her cards very close to her chest.

  Fern didn’t want to speak to him again, not ever. He was the sort of man who didn’t know how to be polite to women, still treated them as sex objects. Ugh! She hated the way he looked at her. He’d once tried to grab her, pretending it was a joke, and she’d had to kick his leg hard and threaten worse to make him let go.

  She’d never told Joe, who’d have made a fuss and drawn attention to the incident.

  Chapter Thirteen

  The following morning Simone was standing at the kitchen window when Russ came out of his house. He waved as he got into his car and drove off, looking happy. She hoped his plans for the new project were going well. She knew he’d had a sudden request to go and see his agent in London tomorrow. Where was he going today?

  As if that was any of her business!

  Later that morning Fern arrived for lunch bearing a gift of home-made strawberry jam. She looked round the room. ‘Nice place, this. You must tell me about leisure-village living arrangements another time. I have a recently retired friend looking for somewhere to live.’

  ‘Come and sit down. I’ll serve lunch in a minute or two.’

  ‘How about a cup of coffee now and lunch later? Today we really do need to talk frankly.’

  ‘OK by me. I particularly want to know what’s going on with Lance. Why is he harassing me?’

  ‘Harassing? Is it that bad?’

  Simone shrugged. ‘It feels like harassment. He gives me the shivers the way he looks at me, so calculating and sexist in an old-fashioned undress-you-with-his-eyes way.’

  ‘Good description of him. It’s not only you. He gives me and half the women in the family the shivers, too. His wife left him years ago and he hasn’t really got together with anyone since. He mainly ignores women of his own age and tries to chat up women who are far too young for him. Now, let’s start with your parents and come back to Lance after I’ve painted the whole picture – well, as far as I know it.’

  ‘Fine by me.’

  ‘First, I have a message from Great-Aunt Henrietta, though she prefers just Aunt as a title and she certainly doesn’t act like an old lady. She rang me yesterday evening with what we call one of her ‘royal commands’. She wants to meet you and asked me to invite you to go for lunch with her on Wednesday or Friday at Pennerton House, whichever suits you best. I think you’ll like her.’

  ‘I’m sure I will if you say so.’

  ‘She’s ninety now and is doing well physically for someone that age, and she’s as shrewd as they come. We try not to upset her when she has her mind set on something and at the moment she’s set on making a will that’s fair to everyone – and that includes you now. So if you wouldn’t mind going to see her?’ Head on one side, she looked at Simone.

  ‘I’d be happy to do that. I looked at her house from outside last week and was surprised at how big it is, like a small stately home. I’d love to see inside it. Would she show me round, do you think?’

  ‘She’d probably get her secretary to do that because she has mobility problems with stairs and hates people to see her struggling. You’ll like Elizabeth. She knows as much about the house as Henrietta does and watches over her employer like a mother hen. You’ve described exactly what the house is: a small stately home.’

  ‘I didn’t realise we had that sort of upper-class ancestor. When I found a Christmas card from her with an address on it, I assumed it was just a fancy house name.’

  Fern shrugged. ‘Well, the upper-class element seems to have been dying out of our lot for a while now. No one on my side wants to inherit the house because it would be such a burden to try to keep it going. Henrietta has spent a fortune on maintenance over the years. She’s talked to the closest relatives and told them she’s going to hand it over to the National Trust when she dies. They’ve expressed an interest. Everyone’s relieved.’

  �
��It would be hugely expensive to maintain.’

  ‘Tell me about it. The National Trust has agreed to take it on because it’s a little gem and has some rather special historical features from World War Two.’ She gave a wry smile. ‘Lance, of course, feels the house should come to him as the closest male relative, but he wasn’t even asked if he wanted it. Anyway, he’d only sell it and gamble away the money. Henrietta knows that.’

  Simone was surprised at how negatively Fern always spoke of Lance. What was it about him? She realised her companion was waiting for her to pay attention. ‘Sorry. My mind wandered for a moment or two there.’

  ‘I’m not surprised. There’s a lot to take in.’

  ‘Yes. I wish my parents had told me more.’

  ‘You can ask me any time you want to know something. Now, back to Henrietta. She does want to leave small bequests to various family members, items she feels should stay in the family. I doubt Lance will get any of those either unless he can change his habits. Henrietta doesn’t approve of gambling.’

  ‘Can’t she just leave him out of her will completely?’

  ‘She may do that, but he does have a son, and Kit is a nice chap. It’ll look so bad if he’s left something and his father isn’t.’

  ‘Oh.’ Simone waited, feeling a bit bewildered to have so many relatives.

  ‘Your mother used to be married to Lance’s father, Ralph, so—’ Fern broke off and stared at her companion. ‘You didn’t know that either?’

  For a few moments Simone could only gape at her. ‘I had no idea Mum had been married before, no. What was this Ralph like?’

  ‘I didn’t see him till he was older, but he was good-looking still, though a bit of a cold fish.’

  Fern paused again, as if to give this time to sink in and Simone gestured with one hand for her to continue.

  ‘The marriage didn’t last long and in case you’re wondering, she and Ralph didn’t have any children. She left him after six months and skipped off to Australia with your father while she was still married. Brits could just go and live there in those days. It was a couple of years before Ralph started looking round for another wife and everyone assumed he was waiting for a divorce to come through.’