Chapter 22
TWENTY-TWO
‘It’s all lies, of course.’ Clara sipped a cup of herbal tea.
Heather, Violet and Primrose had popped into the lounge for some lunch after coming back from the protest, expecting it to be reasonably quiet, but all of the Campbells seemed to be in a state of extreme panic.
On her way to the lounge, Heather had seen Estella hurrying along behind Elizabeth as she stalked along the corridor, barking orders at her.
‘What is? The protest? I don’t think it is. I saw it for myself. It’s real.’ She frowned. ‘And I don’t think it’s going anywhere, either.’
‘No, not that. Although, that’s a huge annoyance. Bloody locals don’t know what’s good for them.’ Clara tutted. ‘No. It’s this.’ She slid a folded newspaper across the table to Heather, who squinted at the headline.
CAMPBELLS IN NEW SCANDAL OVER FAKE JEWELS
‘What’s this?’ Heather asked.
‘Read the article. Though it’s all wrong.’ Clara sliced a cooked tomato daintily in quarters; she only had two tomatoes on her plate. ‘Lies, like I just said.’
‘Falsehood flies, and truth comes limping after it,’ Aunt Joan said, from the opposite side of the table. ‘Jonathan Swift.’
‘Oh. Fun. I always rather liked “The naked truth is better than the best-dressed lie.”’ Aunt Chrissie chipped in. ‘Though I don’t remember who said it. Hello, Heather, dear.’
‘Hello, Aunties.’ Heather smiled distractedly at both aunts. She took the newspaper and read the article.
The Campbells of Glenorchy, whose family businesses include the Glenorchy Organic Tea Company, are in some hot water today.
Last week, Lady Elizabeth Campbell made a press announcement to a select number of invited attendees at Balhennie Castle about the forthcoming nuptials of her youngest son, Matthew, and his bride-to-be, Heather Balhennie of Skye. Miss Balhennie is the Laird of Balhennie’s niece.
At the event, Lady Elizabeth showed off a diamond and pearl necklace and matching earrings which, she boasted, were gifted to the family by a daughter of Queen Victoria.
Miss Balhennie was photographed wearing the Cottingley Jewels, as they are known, and Lady Campbell intimated that Miss Balhennie would be wearing them at her wedding.
However, since the photos were circulated in the press, a source has come forward to claim that the Cottingley Jewels are, in fact, in her possession, and that the necklace and earrings owned by the Campbell family are fakes.
The source, who wishes to remain anonymous, claims that her family have been in possession of the jewels since 1908, when they were gifted them by Queen Victoria herself.
The source also suggested to our reporter that she highly suspects the story about the jewels being given to the Campbells by Princess Charlotte is inaccurate.
The Glenorchy Foundation is currently under investigation after a routine audit found inconsistencies in their company accounts.
The Campbells are also currently under investigation for tax fraud.
Additionally, their new golf course development on the Isle of Skye – coincidentally the location of the wedding of their son Matthew to Heather Balhennie – has experienced serious local objections, with the islanders of Skye turning out in droves to protect the development yesterday. MORE ON PAGE TWO.
‘What the hell?’ Heather looked up from the paper. ‘Is this true, about the jewels?’
‘No! How could it be?’ Clara looked appalled. ‘Lady Campbell will issue a press release today. It’ll get sorted.’
‘Well, this unnamed source seems fairly sure,’ Heather said, doubtfully. ‘Surely the newspaper wouldn’t publish a story without knowing it was correct.’
‘Heather, don’t be na?ve,’ Violet said, from where she’d sat down at the end of the table. ‘Think about all those made-up stories in the papers, over the years. All those celebrities that journalists made up stuff about. It still happens.’
‘Thank you, Violet,’ Clara said, primly.
‘God. I need a coffee.’ Elizabeth swept into the lounge and poured herself a cup, drinking half of it in one go. ‘Bloody press.’
‘Hello, Lady Campbell,’ Aunt Joan said icily.
‘What? Hm. Good day. Though it’s hardly that,’ Elizabeth replied.
‘I see that basic manners weren’t on the curriculum of the finishing school you went to,’ Aunt Joan retorted, rolling her eyes.
Elizabeth stared at Aunt Joan for a long moment.
‘I didn’t go to a finishing school,’ she replied flatly.
‘It shows.’ Aunt Joan sniffed, and returned to her lunch: a vegetarian quiche, boiled potatoes in butter and broccoli, tossed in butter. Elizabeth’s face flushed, and Heather was surprised to observe that she seemed at a temporary loss for words. Instead, she turned to Clara.
‘I’ve issued a statement,’ she said. ‘We’ll go forward with you wearing the Cottingley jewels,’ she added, looking at Heather.
‘This is just press chatter. They’ve been on my back for months now about this tax fraud fiction.
They just want column inches, and unfortunately, we seem to be the topic of choice.
Not least with this golf course melodrama, which couldn’t have come at a worse time.
’ She made an anguished stress noise, like a cat trying to cough up a hairball.
‘Matthew tells me that you and your sisters visited the protest site. To what end?’ she demanded.
Heather felt as though she was being interrogated.
‘We were curious to see it,’ Heather replied, honestly. ‘Some of my colleagues at work let me know it was happening.’
‘It was nice. You should pop in, Liz,’ Primrose said, helping herself to some quiche.
‘I will not. Why did your colleagues let you know about it?’ Elizabeth frowned, ignoring Primrose calling her Liz. ‘How would they know?’
‘Because I work for an animal charity, and we care about stuff like that,’ Heather said, trying to keep her cool.
‘I don’t see what animals have to do with it,’ Elizabeth scoffed. ‘Unless the deer want to play a few rounds.’
‘I very much doubt that,’ Heather said, sweetly. She didn’t know whether Elizabeth was just ignorant about the impact that the golf course and building work would have on the natural habitats of the animals of Skye, or whether she just didn’t care.
‘Do you?’ Elizabeth raised a perfectly pencilled eyebrow.
Heather remembered Annie’s advice about her mother: stand up to her.
Well, that was fine, because when it came to animals, Heather would stand up for them all day long.
But she’d also promised Matty that she’d try to build bridges with Elizabeth – even though her future mother-in-law was making that pretty difficult right now.
‘Yes. Red deer are magnificent animals. In winter they migrate from the hills to lower altitudes for food. If you bulldoze their food, they’ll starve.
Pine martens are also native to Skye. They’ve already been hunted to near extinction.
The charity I work for has a conservation plan in effect to protect them: they’re a protected species. ’
‘Hm. Well, I don’t take much of an interest in the golf courses. They’re Arthur’s babies.’ Elizabeth pursed her lips. ‘He cares about those damn places more than anything else,’ she added.
For a moment, Heather saw Elizabeth’s composure flicker, and an unusually human expression possess her face: vulnerability. But as soon as Heather saw it, it was gone again and Elizabeth was continuing in her usual aggressive manner.
‘Anyway. Every Campbell bride wears the Cottingley jewels. It’s non-negotiable. Especially since many of my other requirements for the wedding were vetoed.’
‘Um. They weren’t vetoed. They were unacceptable,’ Violet broke in. ‘Clearly, that dunk in the Sound of Raasay didn’t wake you up to the fact that The. Whole. Wedding. Has. Already. Been. Organised.’
‘Heather, kindly tell your sister that I am not interested in her opinion,’ Elizabeth drawled.
‘And, may I say, on the subject of the press, how delighted we were to read about your aunt’s previous life as a topless model.
’ She shot a look at Aunt Chrissie, opposite.
‘Not something I had been informed of, prior to the engagement. Another fire to be put out. Like I don’t have enough to do. ’
‘I think you’ll find that Chrissie’s modelling has nothing to do with you, the press or this wedding, thank you very much, Lady Campbell,’ Aunt Joan replied crisply.
‘She’s been distraught over that story, and she didn’t even do anything wrong.
Not like tax fraud, Lady Campbell. That’s a serious matter.
’ Aunt Joan met Elizabeth’s furious glare with a gentle smile and a raised eyebrow.
‘A matter for the law, I’d say, wouldn’t you?
’ Her voice was soft; Aunt Joan very rarely had to raise her voice to make a point.
Heather grinned, watching her great-aunt sparring lazily with Elizabeth Campbell.
‘Entertainment over lunch. Perfect,’ she murmured to Violet, who had walked around the table to get the salt shaker.
‘Joanie.’ Aunt Chrissie nudged her sister.
‘Don’t. The poor woman’s got enough to worry about without us making her feel guilty about defrauding the nation.
Goodness knows the health service needs all the money it can get…
Lady Campbell must be absolutely at her wits’ end, thinking about all those poor people on the waiting lists.
Knowing that if she and all the other billionaires just paid their tax, well…
’ Chrissie trailed off, smiling distantly.
‘But then, I suppose you don’t think about these things in the back of an armour-plated jeep. ’
Heather stifled a snort of laughter. Her aunts could be savage.
‘Hm. You’re right, of course, dear. Though I do feel that nobody would have been interested in your modelling days, if it wasn’t for Lady Campbell and her media circus.
I wonder if you think you’re the ringmaster, dear?
’ Aunt Joan leaned forward solicitously.
‘Because you’re not. They are, and always will be. The papers. Television. All of them.’
‘Auntie. Please.’ Heather stood up, holding out her hands. She felt as though she was a lowly soldier, trying to pacify two war generals. ‘Lady Campbell is Matty’s mother. Like it or not, our families are going to be connected. Let’s be nice.’
‘I am perfectly nice, Heather Balhennie,’ Aunt Joan drawled. ‘The Balhennies are an old, respectable family. We look after our community. We don’t spend our time gadding about on television and entertaining the gutter press. Or building golf courses where they’ve got no business being.’
‘Well, I see I arrived at just the right time,’ Matty said, as he walked into the lounge. ‘Hello, everyone…’
‘Matthew. Thank goodness.’ Elizabeth covered her face with her hands. ‘Can you help me find my pills? It’s been rather a trying morning.’
‘What?’ He shook his head. ‘What’s going on?’
‘Oh, the press. And your new in-laws think it’s all very hilarious.
I don’t actually have time for their ridicule.
’ Elizabeth exhaled. ‘Might I remind all of you that I almost died out on that godforsaken boat? Arthur told me to try and be friendly with you all, but I just can’t.
I’ve tried,’ Elizabeth pronounced, dramatically, turning to Heather and her sisters.
‘We know that, Elizabeth,’ Violet said. ‘I mean, maybe you fell in because you were standing on a wet plastic seat in high heels with your arm in the air? But you seem all right now?’
‘See? At this time of crisis, Matthew, all they can do is be catty! Does no one understand the pressure I’m under?’ Elizabeth turned to her son, her voice getting more and more shrill until she was shouting.
‘Mum. Please. It’s okay.’ Matty approached his mother and took her hand, gingerly.
‘Come on. Let’s get you somewhere quiet.
’ He spoke to her as if she was a skittish horse, then he turned to Heather.
‘Seriously, Heather. Can’t you just all get on?
Can you just make an effort to be nice to Mum? We talked about this.’
Heather was so taken aback that she didn’t know what to say.
‘Excuse me? This is not Heather’s fault.’ Violet spoke for her. ‘Your mother is being a little much. That’s all there is to it.’
‘See?’ Elizabeth turned to her son and covered her face with her hands. ‘See how they talk to me?’
‘Vi—’ Heather protested.
‘Oh, come on. As if that woman can cry,’ Violet snorted. ‘She’s just hiding her dry eyes under those perfectly manicured claws of hers.’
‘Vi. That’s enough,’ Heather repeated. ‘Come on.’
‘Mum. Please. Come on. Let’s go.’ Matty held Elizabeth’s arm gently. ‘I’ll see you later, Heather.’ He guided his mother to the door; she shook off his arm and swept regally from the room.