Chapter 12 #2
Marian also knew from phone conversations with her daughter, Rebecca, that she would be very keen to come back to Ireland and reconnect with her old friends in Dublin, where she had gone to school.
Rebecca had confessed that although Sydney was a great place to start her career, she yearned to come back home.
If her daughter settled in Dublin, they could see each other often, Marian thought with a dart of happiness.
But now she had to tackle Sylvia and prepare her for what might be a huge shock and the start of a lot of nasty gossip.
Marian was sure that, although Sylvia was greatly admired in town, there were also a lot of people who would be jealous of her status and would revel in the chance to take her down.
Having finished her lunch, Marian drove to Magnolia Manor and her meeting with Sylvia that was sure to be difficult.
Marian parked in the courtyard at the back of the manor, near Sylvia’s entrance door that led to the hall and the study beyond the kitchen.
But when she got out of the car, Sylvia opened the entrance door and told Marian to meet her on the terrace outside the big dining room as it was such a lovely day.
‘We can sit in the sun and look at the roses that have just come out in full bloom,’ she said. ‘I’ll bring coffee and cake.’
‘Great idea,’ Marian said and got back into her car. ‘I’ll park on the other side, so. See you in a minute.’
When she had parked the car, Marian made her way around the house and walked along the lawn to the terrace where Sylvia had just arrived carrying a basket.
She looked, as usual, very elegant in blue linen slacks and a pale pink shirt.
Her hair was brushed back from her lined but still beautiful face and her brown eyes were warm as she greeted Marian.
Sylvia moved with astonishing grace, probably due to all the exercise she was doing, Marian assumed, admiringly.
I hope I’ll be as fit and healthy when I reach Sylvia’s age, she thought.
Maybe it’s also due to a loving relationship with a man who appreciates her?
They sat down at a table near the railings which faced the rose garden, where red, yellow, pink and white roses were adorning every bush in the little garden inside a well-tended hedgerow.
There was a heady floral scent in the air that competed with the salty tang from the sea.
A slight humming sound from bees, too, which, combined with birdsong, made the terrace even lovelier.
‘What a gorgeous place this is,’ Marian said, admiring the sight of all the flowers.
‘My favourite place in the summer,’ Sylvia said as she took a thermos and mugs out of her basket. ‘In the winter, not so much.’
‘I can imagine,’ Marian said. ‘I haven’t been here in the winter yet, but I’d say it can get wild.’
‘That’s an understatement.’ Sylvia poured coffee into the mugs and pushed one of them across the table. ‘Sugar or milk? Or both?’
‘I take it black,’ Marian said.
‘So do I.’
‘Before I forget,’ Marian started, ‘Pierce asked me to tell you that they are giving a housewarming party on Sunday and that they’d love you and Arnaud to come.’
Sylvia nodded, smiling. ‘That sounds like fun. Tell him we’ll be there, even though he didn’t ask me himself.’
‘They should have sent you a card, but I think it was a spur-of-the moment idea,’ Marian explained.
‘I see, well, everyone is so casual these days.’ Sylvia took a plate with two slices of fruitcake covered in clingfilm out of the basket and handed one of them to Marian.
‘Maura, who works for Karina, made these for a tea party tomorrow and she gave two to me to taste. Her famous barmbrack, just like my mother used to make it.’
‘Oh, wonderful,’ Marian said and took a bite.
‘I haven’t had barmbrack since I left Dublin to go to Australia.
This one is delicious. So moist.’ She took another bite, relishing the rich taste of dried fruit with a hint of orange peel.
She took a sip of coffee, which made it even more tasty.
‘What a treat to have it with you in this beautiful spot.’
Sylvia smiled. ‘I agree. You’re very good company, Marian.’ She leaned forward. ‘But you have a weary look in your eyes, I have to say. Are you worried about something?’
‘Lots of things,’ Marian said with a sigh. ‘But I don’t want to trouble you with—’ She stopped, not knowing how to go on.
‘With what?’ Sylvia said, confused. ‘Is there something you need to tell me? Something that has to do with me? Or the family?’
‘Mostly you,’ Marian said. ‘But the family too. Oh, I don’t know how to explain it.’
‘Maybe you could try?’ Sylvia said softly. ‘I’m good at figuring out things even if they’re a little cryptic.’
Marian nodded, her heartbeat beginning to race. ‘The best start would be to read you something from the Internet.’
Sylvia nodded and sat back. ‘That sounds mysterious. Go on.’
‘You see, there is this novel that will be published soon,’ Marian started, as she fished her phone out of her handbag. ‘By this very popular author called John Peters.’
‘I’ve heard of him,’ Sylvia said. ‘But what does that have to do with me?’
‘Well, you see, his new novel is going to cause a lot of trouble for you.’
Sylvia raised an eyebrow. ‘Really? Why?’
‘Because, even though it’s fiction, the story seems to be about Magnolia Manor, this family, and – you.’ Marian drew breath.
‘Me?’ Sylvia’s eyes widened. ‘In what way?’
‘I’ll read the description to you,’ Marian said and unlocked her phone.
After a little bit of searching, she found the page.
‘It’s called Family Secrets. And here is the description of the plot.
’ Marian read the blurb out loud. She finished and drew breath, looking at Sylvia, who had turned very pale.
‘Oh,’ Sylvia finally said. ‘That’s quite a story.’
‘Ring any bells?’ Marian asked.
‘A whole carillon,’ Sylvia said. ‘It’s about us, isn’t it?’
‘Very thinly veiled, I’m afraid,’ Marian said. ‘But that’s not the worst bit, is it?’
‘No,’ Sylvia replied, meeting Marian’s gaze. ‘It’s the part about me.’
‘Yes,’ Marian said.
‘I fear that part in the description could start a lot of rumours,’ Sylvia said. ‘But as it’s fiction, will anyone believe any of it? I mean, “a beloved grandmother whose disreputable past will cause huge scandal if it is ever revealed”. That could be any grandmother, couldn’t it?’
‘Yes, of course it could. It’s probably all made up anyway,’ Marian soothed.
‘Or maybe not.’ Sylvia looked thoughtful. ‘Nobody would be able to prove it’s true, anyway. Whatever it is, I mean.’
‘Could it be based on real facts?’ Marian asked. ‘I mean, is there anything in your past that might be worth gossiping about?’
‘Plenty,’ Sylvia said with a sudden laugh. ‘But I’m not going to tell you. I’ll just say this: I have never done anything that I’m the slightest bit ashamed of. But if it came out, it might be misinterpreted. The past is the past and one’s youthful adventures should stay there.’
‘Of course,’ Marian said. ‘I agree a hundred per cent.’
Sylvia nodded, looking happier. ‘Good. Now, what I would like to know is, who in the family has been talking about things that we have all agreed should stay in the family? Do you have any idea?’