It was so good to have seen Bert Simmonds today and to find that the images locked in her mind of that kind, caring man were all real. One day she'd go back to Rye, stay in the Mermaid Inn with Nick and walk down the High Street on his arm holding her head high.
'We do a pretty good wedding here at Oaklands,' Magnus said an hour later as he stretched out luxuriantly in an armchair. 'Even if I have to say it myself! There's usually someone who upsets a few people, but they were all remarkably well behaved. A better class of guest you see.'
Nick and Mel both laughed. It was good to see Magnus relaxed again and making jokes. They were on the settee together, Mel lying with her head on Nick's lap. Miles was sitting opposite Magnus by the fire, Conrad in another chair beside them.
'That chap Easton looked a little uneasy I thought,' Miles said. 'Your Aunt Gertrude asked him what connection he had to Camellia and he didn't know what to say.'
'Well, childhood-sweetheart-of-the-bride's-other-mother is a little hard to say,' Nick laughed. He knew Miles found it a little odd that Mel had invited Jack, but then Miles was an old man and his prejudices ran deep. He seemed to have forgotten that Magnus was an old love of Bonny's too. 'Especially to someone as deaf as Aunt Gertrude. I was very glad he came, he's a good man. Did you see the canteen of cutlery he gave us?'
'It's so wonderful,' Mel enthused. 'I never thought I'd ever own proper silver cutlery. But even better was the letter he gave me that he'd been holding onto from Lydia Wynter. Imagine her leaving me six thousand pounds?'
It wasn't the size of the legacy which thrilled her, so much as Lydia's warm words, and the knowledge that she had cared so deeply about Bonny and her child.
'For richer and richer,' Nick smiled down at her, stroking her forehead. They had heard from Helena's lawyers in Los Angeles. Once everything had been sorted out Mel would be inheriting everything from her too. 'Just think – last night I thought I was marrying a girl with a few bob in a post office book. Now I discover she's an heiress.'
'That must have been quite a shock to you, my dear,' Miles said gently. 'Though the nicest kind. I met Lydia you know at Bonny and John's wedding. She was a gracious, fine-looking woman and one I thought had a strong moral code. I'm pleased to discover I was correct. How very sensible she was to entrust Easton to hold onto your legacy until you were of a sensible age.'
'You know nothing much about the past bothers me now,' Mel said thoughtfully. 'It was wonderful to see Bert Simmonds too. It rounded everything off just perfectly.'
She looked across at Conrad, expecting that remark to spark off questions. He had such a fascination for family intrigues and all the time she and Bert were talking earlier, he'd been watching her intently. But to her surprise Conrad didn't even appear to be listening. He looked as if he was off on another planet.
'What's up, Con?' she asked. 1 thought you'd want to know what the gossips are saying in Rye?'
He blushed, right down to his neck, his eyes blinking furiously behind his specs.
'Come on, out with it,' she said, suddenly realising that he had been uncharacteristically quiet for the last couple of hours. 'Is there something wrong back at the restaurant?'
'No, it's dull and boring, but doing okay,' he said reluctantly. 'I'm sorry if I was miles away, but you see I've had something else on my mind.'
'Well, tell us,' Mel said.
'I can't, not now. I want to ask you something, but it's too impudent.'
Mel laughed and sat up straight. 'Impudent! You and me are old chums, you can ask whatever you like, within reason.'
'Yes, come on,' Nick encouraged him. 'As Dad used to say when I was a nipper, don't be afraid of the gold braid.'
Conrad smiled, but he still looked very unsure of himself. 'It's about Helena. Ever since Miles broke the news about you all, I've heard people saying they'd like to know the whole story. As you can imagine it's been hard for me not to reveal I know the complete, unedited version and I've spent a great deal of time thinking about every aspect of it.' He paused, looking nervously at Mel.
'Go on,' she urged him. 'You aren't going to ask if you can sell it to the News of the World?'
He looked indignant. 'Jesus, Mel! You know I wouldn't dream of doing that. But the more I've thought about it, the more aware I've become of just how dramatic it is.'
'You want to write it?' Mel grinned. 'You do! Don't you?'
'Not a newspaper story,' he shook his head and wrinkled his nose in disgust. 'No, I meant more of a biography.'
Magnus snorted, it was hard to say whether in disgust or approval, and Conrad blushed again.
'I know it's impertinent when there's hundreds of well-known biographers out there who'll come asking. But at least you can trust me to write it truthfully with some sensitivity.'
Miles sat bolt upright in his chair, looking straight into Conrad's eyes.
Magnus smiled and took a sip of his drink. He knew Miles had good reason to be wary of journalists, and he probably felt much the same way about biographers.
Nick put his arm around Mel's waist and held her, almost as if he expected her to spring out of her chair in indignation.
There was absolute silence for a moment, while everyone's eyes turned to Mel.
'I can't actually think of anyone more suitable to write it,' she said at length. 'You've seen every film. You know so much detail about her Hollywood days. But I think Miles is the one to decide, not me. Grandpa, what do you think?'
Miles turned to smile at Mel, as he did every time she called him Grandpa. 'Someone will write it one day, with or without my consent,' he said with a shrug. 'Better this lad who adored Helena, and cares about you, Melly. I'll probably be pushing up the daisies before it's finished anyway.'
'Don't say that, Grandpa. I'm counting on a few years of your company,' she replied. 'And if Con is to do it, he'll want help from you about Polly. What do you think, Nick?'
'Helena thought Con was a good sort,' Nick said, drawing Mel back closer to him until her head was resting on his chest. 'I think she'd approve. But we have to consider everyone else. I assume Con will give Dad and me a mention?'
'I wouldn't have to write about Magnus and Bonny,' Conrad said hastily. 'I could just say you were a friend of John Norton.'
'How do you feel about it, Magnus?' Mel asked.
'I'm a great believer in nepotism.' His eyes twinkled. 'For my part I'd rather have Con do it than some ferret with an eye for sensationalism. But she was your mother, Mel. Ultimately the decision has to lie with you.'
Mel thought for a moment or two. An image of herself and Bonny came to her – they were running along Camber Sands hand-in-hand, laughing and singing as they jumped over tiny waves. She had put her wedding bouquet on Helena's grave before they left the churchyard this morning and it had reminded her there was nowhere to place any flowers for Bonny. But Bonny would much rather be immortalised in a book than have a few flowers wilting somewhere for her.
Con could spin word-pictures so clear they jumped off the page. He'd make the funny things sing, the sad parts really moving. With his sharp understanding of human nature he'd bring every character to life. It would be a wonderful thing to pass on to her children and grandchildren.
'Yes, Con. You can go ahead, but with one proviso.'
'Whatever you say,'
'Bonny is to be treated with the same sensitivity as Helena.'
Nick was surprised by this request. He moved round on the seat so he could see Mel's face. It was as serene as it had been in church today.
'She loved me,' she said simply. 'All the trickery and lies were separate. Helena made me see that before Edward surprised us. I learned to love Helena in those last few minutes with her, but I loved Bonny from birth.'
Magnus frowned. He looked to Mel, then Nick, then back to Mel. 'You sound as if you've found one of your missing pieces.'
'Do you remember likening Bonny to a beautifully wrapped parcel?' she asked Magnus.
He smiled. 'I never got to the bot
tom of the wrapping,' he said wryly.
'I think I have,' she said softly. 'I think the file of letters was intended to be the final piece.'
Everyone looked puzzled.
'I could never understand why she kept those letters,' Mel said, looking at them each in turn. 'But the reason came to me when Grandpa found a few letters from Bonny to Helena up in the cottage. In the same way Helena couldn't bring herself to destroy all evidence of giving me to Bonny, Bonny hung on to those letters from Magnus, Miles, Jack and Helena. She wanted me to see them one day. I'm sure of that now. Not then, not without her explaining the rest of the story, but she kept them for me.'
She leaned back against Nick. 'Bonny didn't expect to die young. She sailed through life intending to put everything right, one day.'
'Who of us is ever quite prepared for death?' Magnus smirked. 'I go to bed nightly intending to put my affairs in order, but I haven't done it.'
'Exactly. That night when Edward was chasing after me, I kept thinking how much I still had to say to Nick, to Magnus, and to you, Con.'
Magnus nodded. 'I take your point. The Bonny I knew couldn't have imagined getting ill or dying.'
Mel sighed. 'Bonny had a great many flaws, but I've read those loving letters she sent to Helena before they fell out. There's such detail about me, each tooth, each word, what I weighed and ate. There was one which explained why they moved from Somerset to Rye: she felt guilt pressing in, always afraid she might meet someone from the nursing home where I was born. Yet she had so much compassion for Helena too. The woman who later drank herself stupid, who spent all the money and forgot even to buy food was as unhappy and lonely as Helena was herself.
'I'm sure she did write to Helena when I was older to try and make things up, and that Edward intercepted the letter. I suspect that he conned Bonny, just as he conned me. Maybe he promised that he'd take the two of us to America. Maybe that was why she seemed so happy and excited in those last few weeks, because she believed she was putting everything right at last.'
'And she trusted the wrong person,' Nick said thoughtfully.
'I had an argument with her not long after I'd turned fifteen. Amongst other things I asked her why she gave me a ridiculous name like Camellia. You see other kids always called me Camel or Cami-knickers. That afternoon when I got home from school, she insisted that I was to go out with her. She didn't take me very far, just to a road a few hundred yards away. There in a garden was this beautiful bush smothered with white flowers.'
'A camellia?' Magnus smirked.
'Yes. She said she'd named me that because it was the most beautiful thing she could think of, and so was I as a baby. She promised me that one day people would say it suited me.'
'She was quite right,' Nick said. 'It does, perfectly.'
Mel shrugged. 'I know now that it was Helena's choice, not Bonny's, but that doesn't matter. What does matter is the way they shared me in those early days, the strong bond of love between them. That's what the name represents to me now.'
The five of them fell silent. Magnus had that proud lion look again, resolute and dignified. Miles's eyes were damp. Mel's face had a golden glow as if lit from within.
Nick and Conrad looked at one another and smiled. 'Write it, Con,' Nick said.
'What do you think of Legacy of Love, for a title?' Conrad's eyes had a spark of fire in them. 'I think that's what both women left behind.'
ALSO AVAILABLE IN ARROW
Tara
Lesley Pearse
In the East End, twelve-year-old Tara witnesses her villain of a father almost kill her mother. She forges a determination then and there to change her life.
This is the story of three beautiful and talented women. Mabel, whose great love for a gambling man has brought her close to insanity; gentle Amy, who married a man brutalised by war and failure; and Tara, who is hungry for success and life on her own terms.
To have both, she must battle against the legacy these two women have left her, the deep prejudices and dangers of Whitechapel in the 1960s – with its gang leaders, rogues, market traders and dolly birds – and the passionate love she has had since girlhood for the charming wideboy and villain, Harry Collins.
Lesley Pearse, Camellia
Thank you for reading books on BookFrom.Net Share this book with friends