Deborah downed her coffee, sped upstairs, then sped down them, remembering she had to clean her teeth. She gave herself a cursory cat lick then added deodorant and perfume. She told herself she could come back after the meeting for a full shower.
Back upstairs she found clean underwear but no tights. It was much too cold and her legs were too white to go bare-legged so she unhooked her tights from last night’s knickers and yanked them on.
She opened her wardrobe door and immediately cursed herself. She’d forgotten to collect her second-best business suit from the cleaners. She stared at yesterday’s suit. It was in a sorry heap on the floor. Bugger! She scooped it up and ran down to the kitchen and threw it into the tumble dryer with a shot of Febreze.
Back upstairs, she sat at her dressing table and looked in the mirror. A bit of touché éclat, blusher and lipstick should sort her out. In her make-up drawer she came across a couple of Nurofen and tossed those down as insurance, then fixed her face. Her shaking hand made a bit of a mess of her flicky eyeliner but an extra coat of mascara camouflaged that.
She ran downstairs, pulled the refreshed suit from the tumble drier, ran back upstairs for a neat white T-shirt and shoes, and made it to the door by 9.27. Taking a deep breath, and raking a hand through her unwashed but passable hair, she stepped out of the house and walked to the office.
Miss France had been the secretary for Penhaligon and Palmer Solicitors for as long as anyone could remember, but when Old Mr Penhaligon retired, so did she. Her replacement was a young law graduate called Grace who was far too qualified for the job but was happy to take on any conveyancing work as well as general office work.
‘Morning, Debs.’ Grace scanned her boss from head to toe. ‘Want me to go out for a coffee?’
‘Thank you, how kind.’
‘Rough meeting yesterday, was it?’
‘You could say that.’
‘Looks like you haven’t slept a wink. Up all night, were you?’
‘Why do you ask?’
‘Your suit has a stain on the jacket and there’s a hole in your tights.’
Deborah looked down in despair at the dried blob of tartare sauce and said the first thing that came into her head. ‘It was a dog – it jumped up at me on the walk in.’
‘Tall dog.’ Grace raised her eyebrows in disbelief. ‘I’ll pick up a pack of wet wipes and some new tights while I’m out. Latte? Large?’
‘Anything other than American tan.’ Deborah was already heading for her office.
Grace shook her head and laughed. ‘I mean the coffee, not the colour of your tights.’
As soon as Grace left, Deborah went to her office and began setting it up. First, she opened the only one of the large casement windows that actually did open, the other being long stuck with paint, to let the underlying pong of dry rot out, then she tidied away a pile of case files sitting on the floor next to her desk, and finally assembled a selection of chairs for her three clients.
On the wall above her desk was a foreboding portrait of Mr Penhaligon, the founder of these chambers. She surveyed him.
‘Well, Mr P, it’s Debs here. Goodness knows how it has happened, but I’ll try to look after your old practice as best I can. I went to Oxford, you know. Got a 2:1. Sorry it wasn’t better.’ She hitched her skirt up. ‘Sorry about this; I had a bit of a situation this morning. Don’t look.’ She pulled off her torn tights and threw them in the bin. ‘You probably know that I broke the cardinal rule last night and slept with a client’s son. Not very smart, I admit. And I have a hangover. So, I’d like all the help you can give me, please.’
The outer door slammed and Grace walked in. ‘Large latte, extra shot and nearly nude.’
‘Thanks.’ Deborah grabbed at the packet of tights. ‘How much do I owe you?’
‘Nothing. You’d do the same for me.’
Deborah thanked her, then looked at the clock. ‘Mrs Tallon-Kaur is due in seven minutes. Would you hold her until I’m ready?’
‘You’re the boss.’
Deborah pulled on her new tights, settled into the chair behind her desk and took a mouthful of the lifesaving coffee.
Sitting back in her chair she closed her eyes, lowered her shoulders and took a few deep breaths.
Her headache was almost bearable.
Opening her eyes, she opened the file in front of her.
The legacy due to Sennen was quite substantial. Certainly enough to help Henry with his mortgage. She banged her hand on the desk. She must not think about Henry Tallon.
She sipped some more coffee and concentrated.
Yes, the money could help both Sennen’s older children and there would still be enough to help her second family too.
If she were asked, that is what she would advise.
Then maybe Henry would come down to live in Trevay and they would fall in love and … She banged the desk again. Stop it.
Her door opened. It was Grace. ‘Mrs Tallon-Kaur is here.’
Deborah laid her head on the desk for just a moment then sat up, as bright-eyed as she could. ‘Please show her in.’
She got up and met Sennen at the door.
Today Sennen smelt of patchouli and was wearing her new jeans with an Indian kaftan.
Deborah was always surprised by Sennen’s height and had to resist standing on tiptoe as Sennen bent down to shake her hand.
Sennen looked at the chairs and asked hopefully, ‘Three chairs? Ella and Henry are coming?’
‘They’re certainly invited.’
‘Oh, that’s good. I have made some decisions and it would be better if they were both here when I say them.’
‘It’s always useful,’ smiled Deborah. ‘Has Grace offered you a coffee?’
‘Yes. She is taking the orders as we all arrive.’
There was the sound of someone else arriving. Grace knocked at the door and announced Ella, who was holding tightly to Kit’s hand, and Henry. Deborah was pleased to notice he looked worse than she felt. He kept his eyes firmly on the carpet.
Ella bent to kiss her mother on both cheeks. ‘Hello, Mum, you look nice.’
Sennen could have wept for this kindness. ‘Thank you, Ella. So do you.’
Suddenly the room felt a little cramped and over warm. Deborah started to feel flustered and faint. The room slid under her feet. She sat down.
Grace noticed. ‘Do you need more chairs, Miss Palmer?’ she asked with professional calm. ‘And before I get the coffees, perhaps I’ll open another window?’
‘Chairs, yes thank you but the window is a bit …’ She swallowed rising nausea. ‘A bit erm …’ Deborah gripped her desk.
Henry leapt up and, Deborah could tell, he almost immediately regretted it. He steadied himself on the back of his chair. ‘Let me help you.’ He crossed to the window and, after a few goes, managed to thump it open. ‘There.’ He took the opportunity of a gulp of fresh air. ‘Now chairs, where are they?’
Grace pointed out a heavy chair in the outer office. ‘Maybe that one?’
‘Of course.’ He made an effort to produce his winning Tallon smile. ‘Could you direct me to the gents first?’
‘On the landing. First left.’ She looked at the beads of sweat on his forehead and shaking hands. ‘Are you all right?’
‘This family stuff is very emotional.’ He wiped a hand across his brow. ‘Do you have any aspirin?’
Grace knew a hangover when she saw one. ‘I’ll get some when I go on the coffee run. It might be a bug.’ Grace narrowed her eyes. ‘Miss Palmer isn’t looking too good today either.’
‘Really? I must just … on the left?’ She watched as Henry scurried to the loo.
‘Will that be everything, Miss Palmer?’ asked Grace, fifteen minutes later, coffee and aspirin distributed and everyone seated.
Deborah gave her a thankful smile. ‘Yes, thank you.’
Grace closed the door silently behind her.
Deborah sipped some coffee, quelled her mild nausea and began. ‘You all now know the extent of Mrs Adela Tallon’s estate. As her nearest living relative, everything now passes to Mrs Sennen Tallon-Kaur. That is the law.’ She looked at Sennen, who held her hands to her mouth as if in prayer. Deborah continued, ‘All that needs to be done is to sign the relevant documentation and the money will be placed into Mrs Tallon-Kaur’s bank account.’
‘Thank you,’ breathed Sennen, ‘it’s almost too much to take in.’
Deborah stood up and offered her hand to Sennen. ‘Congratulations.’
‘You don’t know what this means to me.’ Sennen held out her trembling hand. ‘It’s a miracle.’
Henry shifted loudly in his seat. ‘So that’s it, is it?’
Deborah chanced a quick glance at him. ‘Yes.’
‘What about Ella and me?’
Ella put her hand on his arm. ‘Henry, the money is not ours.’
‘It shouldn’t be hers.’ He looked at the faces around him. ‘Just saying. I’m allowed to say what I think, am I not?’
Deborah opened her mouth to speak but Sennen beat her to it. ‘I have something to say. To you all. I have been thinking about what to do for the best with this windfall. What my parents would want me to do with it. So here it is.’
Ella looked at both Kit and Henry and smiled. ‘You see?’ she said. ‘I knew Mum would be fair.’
Henry frowned and gave Deborah a filthy glare as if it were her fault.
Sennen went on, ‘I hope you will all approve.’
Henry put his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands and groaned. ‘Please don’t let it be the local cats’ home.’
Sennen ignored him and turned her attention to Ellla and Kit. ‘I’m thinking of starting a painting school, here in Trevay, in memory of Mum and Poppa. The Tallon School of Art.’
Ella’s eyes lit up and her mouth opened in joy. ‘Brilliant. That’s a wonderful idea.’ Sennen held her hand up in front of her to stop her. ‘And, I should like it if you ran the school. You and Henry between you.’
Ella sat still, pink-faced with happiness, clutching at Kit’s hand. ‘Oh, my goodness. Oh. Oh. It’s perfect. Mum, thank you. Granny and Poppa would be thrilled.’ She turned to Henry. ‘Isn’t it wonderful, Henry?’
Henry scratched his elbow and pursed his lips. ‘I have a job in London. A good one. Why the hell would I want to run an art school?’
Kit had promised himself that he would say nothing in this meeting, he was only there to support Ella, but he couldn’t allow Henry to pour cold water on her happiness. ‘You could be a sleeping partner.’
‘Oh, fuck off,’ said Henry, appallingly, ‘this is nothing to do with you. You’re just my sister’s boyfriend.’ He stood up, almost knocking his chair over. ‘I’ve had enough of this fairy la la land crap.’
Ella was horrified. ‘Henry! Please. Sit down. Just listen. Please.’
Henry looked over at Sennen who was sitting with her eyes firmly on him. He stared back. ‘And how long will you be around to help with this school?’ he asked. ‘Because Ella hasn’t the faintest idea of how to run a business.’
Ella bridled. ‘I can learn.’
Henry ignored her and directed his anger towards Sennen. ‘As soon as things go wrong, when bills aren’t paid and the bailiffs come knocking, you’ll run away again, won’t you?’
Sennen kept calm. ‘I never meant to leave you forever.’
He splayed his hands out in front of him and looked bewildered. ‘And yet you did.’
‘I’m back now,’ she answered patiently.
‘For how long?’ asked Ella, gently.
‘I’m not sure.’ She twisted her wedding ring.
Henry said quietly, ‘And how much will you be taking home to your other family?’
Sennen shrugged. ‘Nothing.’
‘I don’t believe you,’ Henry said coldly.
‘Please, Henry, I am just trying to do a good thing, the right thing.’
‘Why start now?’
‘Stop it,’ pleaded Ella. ‘If it’s going to make you so beastly, let Mum have all the money. We have everything we have ever needed: Granny and Poppa’s love, their memories and keepsakes, their art. We don’t need anything else, least of all their money.’
Henry shouted, ‘What about my mortgage? What about you?’
‘Stuff it,’ said Ella peacefully. ‘Mum can do what she wants with it all. She never had what we had.’
Sennen blinked back a torrent of grief. ‘And that is the sorrow I carry with me forever. I lost them. I lost you.’
‘Oh, this again!’ Henry waved her words away.
Ella spoke. ‘It’s a kind and generous thought, but if it’s going to cause this much trouble, no thank you.’
Henry began to laugh. A rumbling laugh that swelled in his diaphragm and soared from his lips. He wiped his eyes. ‘This is ridiculous.’
Sennen’s mind was whirling. ‘But I want to help you.’
Henry scowled at her. ‘We’d rather go without, thank you.’
Deflated and confused, Sennen shook her head. ‘This is not how I hoped it would turn out. I’m sorry. I’ve come in all guns blazing and not thought things through at all. Maybe … maybe we could let this lie for a bit. Sit on it. Have a think. But I want you to know that this is something I would really like to do for you.’
‘Thank you,’ said Ella, ‘but perhaps it’s all just a bit too sudden.’
‘Yes. Sorry.’ Sennen picked up her bag and took Deborah’s hand. ‘Thank you. For everything.’
‘My pleasure. The money will be in your account by this afternoon.’
Sennen looked at her children. ‘May I take you out to lunch?’
‘You must be joking,’ mumbled Henry, looking at the floor.
Ella glared at him then turned to her mother. ‘Yes, please. I would love to have lunch.’
Sennen was grateful. ‘And you too of course, Kit?’
Deborah saw them all out as Henry fumed silently.
Deborah walked quietly back to her desk and sat down. ‘That was the worst meeting I have ever had.’ She kicked her shoes off and drained her coffee. ‘Well done.’
‘What is she thinking?’ Henry was biting his thumb. ‘She may as well give it all to the cats’ home.’
‘Instead of you?’
Henry gave a shamefaced grimace. ‘I’m sorry I left you this morning. Without saying goodbye.’
‘I didn’t notice,’ she said coldly.
‘Ah. So last night didn’t happen?’
‘No, it didn’t.’
He looked at her lapel. ‘Although you do have a tartare sauce stain on your jacket, evidence that it did.’
Deborah placed her hand defensively on the stain.
He looked at the rubbish bin by her desk. ‘And a pair of torn tights in your bin.’
‘I don’t have time for you, Henry. Last night was a mistake.’
‘Oh dear. I rather enjoyed it.’
She shot a look at his smugly handsome face and put her head on her desk in shame. ‘I have a terrible hangover,’ she mumbled.
‘Me too.’ He stretched his arms above his head. ‘If you’re not too busy, how about we take the afternoon off and blow away the cobwebs?’
Sennen walked Ella and Kit down to a small fish restaurant on the corner of the harbour. Rosemary had suggested it and she was waiting outside. She greeted Sennen with a kiss. ‘How did it go? No Henry with you?’
‘No,’ said Sennen,
‘But you’re okay?’
Ella put her arm around Sennen’s shoulders and replied, ‘Yes. We are okay but ready for a glass of something cold and white.’
The cheery waitress put them at a window table. The day was warming up and she had opened the sliding windows onto the view of passers-by and the harbour. Sennen took in a lungful of the salty air curling around them.
‘I shall miss this when I go back home.’
Ella was dismayed. ‘You’re not going soon, are you?’
‘I have to go back eventually.’
The waitress arrived, causing a distraction as she handed them menus. ‘Fish of the day is on the marble counter.’ She pointed to a counter in the centre of the room, heaped with ice and an abundance of seafood including lobster and crab.
‘Anything to drink?’
Rosemary chose a bottle of Sancerre for the table, then took Sennen to choose her fish.
The restaurant was filling up with more lunch customers.
Voices bounced off the white ceramic tiled walls and their chair legs scraped the ceramic floor.
While they were alone, Kit took Ella’s hand, ‘Ella, why don’t we announce our engagement to Sennen today? It’ll be some good news for her.’
Ella bit her lip. ‘I don’t know. I don’t want her to think I’m trying to keep her from going back to India … although …’
Rosemary and Sennen returned. ‘We’ve chosen the monkfish,’ Rosemary told them, ‘How about you two?’
‘Dover sole, I think,’ said Ella, closing the menu.
‘Me too,’ smiled Kit. He squeezed Ella’s hand conspiratorially and readied himself to break their news but the waitress arrived to take their order.
When she had gone, Rosemary wanted to know how the meeting had gone. ‘An art school? That’s marvellous and would do so much for Trevay,’ she exclaimed.
‘It feels right,’ agreed Sennen, ‘only Henry thinks it’s a waste of money.’
‘I’m sure he’ll come round,’ said Ella loyally. ‘He doesn’t like things changing too quickly. It took him a long time to settle in London after leaving here and he had a lot of grief counselling when Granny died.’
‘Did he?’ asked Sennen. ‘Oh, poor boy.’ She put her head in her hands. ‘I hadn’t thought of how Mum’s death would affect him. Affect both of you.’
‘It was very hard.’ Ella thought back. ‘Losing Poppa was awful, but we stuck together and Henry helped Granny get through. They were very, very close. When you left, Granny became everything to him. He remembered you, you see. It was easier for me because I didn’t.’
A weight of guilt and regret lowered itself onto Sennen’s shoulders, pressing down on her neck, pushing her into her chair so that she physically slumped. ‘Of course, yes.’
The waitress arrived with the monkfish. ‘Roasted monk-fish for two with crushed potato and watercress sauce.’
Kit prepared again to announce the news of their engagement, but, with ineffable timing, the waitress reappeared.
‘Two Dover soles with buttered leeks and shrimps.’
She placed them in front of Kit and Ella and standing back, clasped her hands. ‘Is there anything more I can get you? Some bread? More water?’ She looked at them. ‘No? Well, call me if you need anything.’
Sennen had lost interest in her food. ‘Ella, I can never explain how sorry I am to have made such a mess and taken so many wrong turnings. If I could turn back time I would never have left you. Sorry is just not a big enough word. All I can say is that I am here for both of you now, for as long as either of you need me or want me.’
Ella’s eyes began to brim with tears. ‘Don’t, Mum. What’s done is done and I want to get to know you now. Properly. Henry will come around.’
‘But I have missed so much. Birthdays, Christmases. Mum and Poppa.’
Kit took his moment. ‘Sennen, you haven’t missed it all. Ella and I are engaged to be married … if you don’t mind?’