4. WHERE THERE’S A WILL…
FOUR
WHERE THERE’S A WILL…
‘He’s very good-looking,’ Orla said, looking at the photo of Benedict with approval. ‘I wonder why he’s chosen you?’
‘Well, thanks a bunch!’ Tess said. ‘You really know how to boost my confidence!’
‘But you know what I mean, don’t you? Of course, we might just be the two best-looking women on the site, mightn’t we? Anyway, if you don’t fancy him, tell him you have a lovely friend.’
‘He must already have seen your photograph,’ Tess said. ‘And he’s chosen me . Now what am I going to wear?’ What was she going to wear? Knowing what to wear had been a life-long problem for Tess, which was ironic since she always knew what suited everyone else.
‘Since it’s a lunchtime date I’d ditch the tiara,’ said Orla.
‘I might wear that royal blue dress I bought for Christmas, if I can still get into it.’ Would that dress be all right or would everyone be in jeans? It was yet another thing to worry about because; she was so unused to meeting new men and going to smart restaurants .
Now, squeezed into the royal blue dress, Tess looked across the table in Pelligrini’s (the most upmarket Italian ristorante for miles around) at her first ‘heart’, and reckoned he was even better looking than his photograph.
At that moment Benedict leaned forward and, gazing at her with his beautiful hazel eyes, said, ‘I’d like to take you to meet my mother.’
Tess nearly choked on her timballini tricolore (which was definitely not diet-appropriate) and said, ‘I beg your pardon?’
‘I think she’d like you,’ Benedict said.
‘She would ?’ This was moving far too fast. MMM had described this man as single, good-looking and successful, which sounded like an unbeatable combination as far as Tess was concerned. Benedict, in the flesh, did not disappoint. But there had to be a snag because it just couldn’t be this easy.
‘But you hardly know me,’ she protested, laying down her fork.
‘That doesn’t matter, Tess. I can tell by your appearance and listening to the way you speak that any man would be honoured to have you by his side.’
Tess wasn’t sure she could eat another mouthful. That she, Tess Templar, sixty-two years old, overweight and average in appearance, could be considered in any way attractive by this gorgeous man, beggared belief. There he sat, silver-haired, suave, charming and smiling with what she was sure were his own teeth. In fact, he could easily have been George Clooney’s older brother. What an amazing dating site this was! Were all the men as gorgeous as this?
‘Here,’ he said, ‘let me top up your glass.’ He’d even chosen the most expensive wine on offer, and she knew she was drinking it far too quickly. But she couldn’t believe she’d found this Adonis on the very first date! It was, she decided, ￡150 well spent. Orla would be green with envy. Absolutely green .
‘I hardly know what to say,’ Tess said, gulping the wine. She decided against telling him that nobody, not even her ex-husband, had ever said they’d be honoured to have her by their side. She began to wonder about his eyesight; he wasn’t wearing glasses but his velvety brown eyes appeared quite normal. And she wasn’t aware of having said anything particularly groundbreaking. Of course, she still had a trace of a Scottish accent, so perhaps he liked that.
He’d never married, Benedict told her. ‘Just never found the right person, but I’ve had a few partners over the years.’
They chatted generally for a bit and she was halfway through her zabaglione with bitter chocolate sauce (she was going to bitterly regret this at the next weigh-in), when he repeated, ‘So, would you be prepared to come with me to visit my mother? Just for an hour or so?’
Tess stared at him. ‘What, now ?’
‘Well, after we’ve had some coffee. I trust you’d like some coffee?’
‘Um, yes please.’ She polished off her dessert. ‘I have to ask: why ?’
‘Why what?’
‘Why do you want me to go with you to visit your mother when we’ve only just met?’
‘The thing is, she’s ninety-three today and I always visit her on her birthday. And, do you know what? She always asks me the same thing. “Benedict,” she says, “when are you ever going to settle down with a nice lady?” She says she’ll die happy when she knows I’ve found someone.’
‘She’s dying?’ Was this some kind of joke? Tess wondered. He’s found someone? Me ?
‘Well, she can’t last a lot longer, I suppose.’ Benedict summoned the waiter and ordered coffee. Then, smiling winningly, he continued, ‘You don’t have to marry me or anything, Tess!’ He laughed heartily at such a possibility. ‘But if you could just give the appearance of being a devoted friend – and I hope we will be friends – it would make her very happy. Could you manage that for half an hour or so? She doesn’t stay awake very long and I’ll do most of the talking. I’d be so grateful, Tess.’
The coffee arrived and Tess played for time, fiddling with her teaspoon and a sugar lump. Then she replaced the sugar lump in the bowl and felt a little more saintly. Why, she wondered, was a man as gorgeous as this not inundated with ladies falling over themselves to be his devoted friend? Why did he have to go online to find someone in the first place? None of this was making any sense at all. However, he had insisted on paying for an extremely expensive lunch in this renowned restaurant, so she supposed the least she could do was accompany him to see his old mother on her birthday. Particularly as she’d be more than happy to become his friend.
Tess pictured herself arriving at Amber’s wedding with this dishy man in tow! Oh, to see her ex-husband’s smug face! And that bloody Arsula!
Benedict settled the bill with his gold Amex card, then shepherded her out to the car park where she’d left her old Ford Focus earlier.
‘I’ll bring you back here afterwards,’ he told her, as he aimed his key at a beautiful dark green Aston Martin. This was getting better and better! He then opened the passenger door for her to lower herself into the sumptuous cream leather interior. Tess wondered if it would be very naff to take a picture, because no one would believe this.
The engine purred to life and they set off towards the city, Tess feeling more and more apprehensive. What had she let herself in for? This whole experience was becoming quite unbelievable. He didn’t talk much when he was driving, other than to mutter about the traffic. It didn’t matter how gorgeous your car might be – you couldn’t move any faster than anyone else in London.
Benedict parked outside a tall, terraced Georgian townhouse in Kensington.
As he opened the door for Tess to get out of the car, he said, ‘Such a waste! She’s only been using a couple of rooms for years.’ He then picked up a small gift-wrapped box from the rear seat before locking the car.
As they entered by the elegant black-painted door, Tess felt her mouth dry up with nerves. What on earth was she supposed to say to a ninety-three-year-old lady whom she knew nothing about?
‘What do I call her?’ she asked Benedict anxiously.
‘Oh, best just to call her Mrs de Vere,’ Benedict replied. ‘That was her final surname – I think. She was married three times, or was it four? No, one of them she never bothered to marry. Yes, stick with Mrs de Vere. And don’t worry, because we won’t be staying long. She’s very frail so she’ll probably fall asleep halfway through our visit anyway.’
At that moment a short, tubby woman emerged from a doorway on the left.
‘Ah, Mr Benedict!’ she said. ‘Your mother hoped you’d call this afternoon. She’s awake at the moment.’ She stared openly at Tess .
‘Thanks, Peg.’ He turned to Tess. ‘Peg looks after Mother. Peg, this is Tess.’
‘Pleased to meet you,’ said Peg, still gawping at Tess.
Feeling distinctly uncomfortable, Tess was led up the imposing central staircase towards one of at least half a dozen doors, where she was ushered into a large room with dark, heavily embossed wallpaper, and dark green velvet swag curtains framing French windows which, Tess could see, led out onto a small Juliet balcony. There was a huge open fire burning in the Adam fireplace and a distinct smell of mothballs. In the middle of the room was an enormous oak four-poster, on which reclined a tiny, ancient lady in a ruffled white nightgown. At first Tess thought she was asleep but, as they approached the bed, her eyes flew open.
‘Benedict, dear boy!’ she said in a surprisingly strong voice.
‘How are you, Mother?’ Benedict asked as he bent to kiss her. ‘And happy birthday! Just a little something from us!’ He handed her the box.
His mother laid the box to one side without even glancing at it. ‘And who,’ she asked, ‘is this ?’
‘This, Mother, is Tess,’ he replied, propelling Tess forward.
Tess held out her hand to grasp the old lady’s birdlike claw. ‘Happy birthday, Mrs de Vere,’ she said dutifully. She was aware of being studied again, and very thoroughly.
‘Have you known Benedict long?’ Mrs de Vere asked, never taking her eyes off Tess.
‘Not long, Mother,’ Benedict got in quickly. ‘But at last I’ve met someone special! I knew you’d be pleased! Now, what have you been up to? ’
‘What have I been up to?’ She turned her attention back to her son. ‘There’s not a lot I can get up to, lying here. Your brother’s coming over later.’
‘Aren’t you going to open your present?’ Benedict asked.
‘Later,’ she said, turning her attention back to Tess. ‘And what do you do for a living?’
‘I’m a dressmaker,’ Tess replied.
‘A dressmaker!’ Mrs de Vere digested this information for a minute. ‘And who exactly do you make dresses for?’
‘Well, anyone who wants one. I run a small boutique with my friend.’
‘How charming! And how did you meet Benedict?’
Tess gulped. Benedict said, ‘Oh, friend of a friend – you know how it is!’
‘No, I don’t,’ said his mother. ‘Tell me.’
‘I knew straight away she was the one for me,’ said Benedict, ignoring her question.
Tess looked at him in astonishment. What was going on and what was she supposed to say?
The old lady looked at Benedict, then at Tess, and then back to Benedict again.
‘You know his history?’ she asked, turning her attention back to Tess. ‘I can scarcely believe you’ve brought about this miraculous change at such a late stage in his life. It wouldn’t have anything to do with the will, would it, Benedict?’
‘Tess is a very special woman,’ Benedict replied. ‘And of course it’s nothing to do with the will! I’ve just come to my senses at long last.’
‘And you’re prepared to take him on?’ she asked Tess .
Tess thought quickly. ‘I like a challenge,’ she said.
‘You’ve certainly got one there,’ his mother replied.
Tess noticed the old lady’s eyelids beginning to droop, and prayed for an escape.
‘Anyway,’ said Benedict, ‘we don’t want to tire you, Mother, so I’ll pop in again later in the week.’
She peered at her son again. ‘I’ve no idea what took you so long to find a wife. But thank God for that!’ She closed her eyes. ‘I can die happy now, knowing both you and your brother are settled and I can divide things up the way they should be – half to you, half to him.’
‘Thank you,’ said Benedict, ‘but you aren’t going to be dying for a long time yet.’
Apparently satisfied, his mother succumbed to sleep, emitting gentle snores.
‘Time to go,’ said Benedict. ‘Let’s get you back to your car.’
Thoroughly confused, Tess let herself sink into the Aston Martin again and be driven back to Pelligrini’s car park in Surrey, Benedict strangely silent all the while. She couldn’t imagine what might happen next. Would he make a date there and then or would he phone her? Or was there something not quite right about this entire episode?
As Benedict parked and helped Tess out of the car, he said, ‘Thank you so much, Tess. You were terrific! Any time I can do you a favour in return… oh! ’ His attention was diverted towards a very attractive young man advancing at speed in their direction. ‘Oh, Maurice !’ he exclaimed, his whole face lighting up.
‘ Darling! ’ exclaimed Maurice in a very pronounced French accent. ‘How did it go? I thought you were never coming back!’ And with that he embraced Benedict fiercely. As an afterthought he turned to Tess and said, ‘Bonjour, you are Tess?’
Tess was at a loss for words.
Maurice wasn’t. He said, ‘Do you think it worked, mon cher?’
‘I think so,’ Benedict said. ‘Tess was really great and Mother appeared convinced.’
‘Très bien!’ said Maurice, putting an arm round Benedict’s waist. ‘Merci, Tess.’
‘Like I said, any time I can do you a favour, Tess,’ said Benedict, pecking her on the cheek, ‘just you let me know.’
‘Thank you for a lovely lunch,’ she said, before turning and walking quickly towards her car.
Tess didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. She’d been well and truly ‘used’. Used to fool an old lady. Then again, perhaps it was kinder that the old lady should die happy in the knowledge that her son had finally become heterosexual.
Later, the more Tess thought about the afternoon’s encounter, the more she wondered how Benedict’s mother, who seemed a wily old bird, could be so easily convinced that her son was about to settle down with a suitable woman. Perhaps she was happier being able to deceive herself into believing what she needed to believe. Perhaps Tess had done her a favour after all. But plainly, Benedict had not suddenly become heterosexual; it was all something to do with the conditions of the will. She’d never know and she never wanted to know. She herself had been taken for a fool, hadn’t she?
‘Any time I can do you a favour, Tess,’ were his parting words. Perhaps she should take him at his word and make a date with him for Amber’s wedding, because she was unlikely to find another man as good-looking and elegant. But no, Tess couldn’t do that. She owed it to Amber, and to herself, to attend the wedding with a genuine companion. Showing up with Benedict would be purely an act, tempting as it would be to see the look on Ursula’s face.
What a farce her first MMM date had been! Why on earth had she ever let Orla talk her into wasting ￡150? Still, it had been an experience and she’d probably had that amount spent on her at lunch. And she doubted she’d ever get to ride in an Aston Martin again.
At least the story had Orla in hoots of laughter a few hours later, as Tess descended a ladder, having placed some frothy hats above the wedding outfits on display.
‘Well,’ Orla said, wiping her eyes, ‘he might have been using you but, come on , you were planning to use him too – mainly to escort you to the wedding if nothing else, weren’t you?’
‘But I wanted him to be a little more than that, Orla. And he couldn’t have been more than a very occasional friend, could he?’
‘There are plenty of heterosexual fish in the sea, so you’ll just have to keep looking.’
‘But how come Benedict wasn’t listed as looking for a male partner?’
‘Because he wasn’t ,’ Orla explained with mock patience. ‘He obviously already has a partner. He was after a wholesome-looking woman to act the part of a possible wife in order to fool his poor old mother.’
‘ Wholesome! ’ Tess glared at Orla.
‘Well, you’d prefer to look wholesome rather than debauched, wouldn’t you? ’
Tess wasn’t at all sure she preferred to look wholesome. Was that how people viewed her, as wholesome ? She sighed; she certainly had her work cut out if she was going to achieve this slim glamorous image she had in mind. Did wholesome equal dull? Is that why Benedict really chose her?
‘How can I be sure these guys haven’t all got an ulterior motive?’ she asked.
‘You can only find out by meeting them. Anyway, you got a nice lunch out of it and no harm done. Let’s have a look on MMM and see who else there is.’