Chapter Sixteen
‘And then guess what I found?’
‘More chairs?’
Clem was enjoying a well-deserved drink in the pub and had been telling Mari all about her explorations of the castle. So far, in the telling of her tale, she had uncovered so many chairs that she had lost count. Exactly how many dining chairs did a castle actually need? The two girls were laughing over their drinks as Clem dealt out another hand of cards on the table. Mari was a dab hand at crib and the two girls were neck and neck after the eighth round. She wasn’t going to tell Mari about the ugly incident with Miss Farano. She knew she was in the wrong and was trying to work out how to fix that on her own.
‘No, not chairs. Fabric! Rolls and rolls of fabric. It was like a haberdashery, lots of bales were still wrapped in brown paper and there were even bales of fabric folded in linen bags and I’ve only ever seen that in books. Then there were big trunks stuffed full of old clothes, and when I say old I mean some are so old that I’m calling the VA in the morning.’
Mari looked up and shook her head.
‘The Victoria and Albert Museum. In London?’
Mari smiled politely and then continued.
‘Are old clothes really that big a deal? I’ve got my nan’s away in the attic somewhere. Do you think your VA would like to see them as well?’
‘What decade are they from?’
‘The seventies.’
Clem gave a mock shudder. ‘Let’s leave the seventies in the attic for now, shall we?’
Mari raised her glass and chinked it against Clem’s with a smile.
‘So where’s it all from then? Did your family make their wealth in the textiles industry?’
Clem looked a bit startled and then laughed. ‘Do you know, I’ve got no idea.’
‘What nothing?’
‘Not a clue.’
Mari paused, clearly trying to find a way to broach her next question without seeming rude.
Clem filled the silence. ‘I suppose, the thing is, they ignored us all of our lives. They didn’t want to know a thing about us and I suppose in retaliation I didn’t want to know a thing about them either.’
‘I can’t imagine being so rich that I didn’t care where the money came from.’ As soon as she said it, Mari realised it had come out wrong. ‘Sorry that was crass. I take it back. I just meant that I would just be so curious to know. Like a riddle or a puzzle to solve.’
‘Ah, no offence taken and I get your point. It’s just every time I think of them, I think of how they treated my mother. We grew up living in a three-bed terrace house, all seven of us. We didn’t have a penny to rub together. Some nights my folks were so exhausted, holding down several jobs, that they would fall asleep before us. And then I discover just how much money and how many properties her family had. Ach, it makes me so mad.
‘Yesterday I found some of my mother’s earlier diaries. They were so full of happiness and excitement. When I compare them to her older ones we found after her funeral—’
She broke off, caught out by a sudden moment of grief. Seeing the world through her mother’s teenage eyes had been overwhelming and she had spent an hour just sobbing until she could get a grip. She had sounded so much like Ari. So optimistic and determined to see the best in everyone.
‘I’m sorry for bringing it up. That was wrong of me.’ Mari leant across the table and gave Clem’s hand a quick squeeze.
‘Don’t be daft.’
Clem was at pains to reassure her new friend. She had taken a shine to Mari and was anxious not to upset anyone else this week. ‘I’m just a bit sensitive about my family. I’ve never really thought of it as more than the seven of us; Mum, Da and us girls and now, of course, Leo and William. But that’s it, no aunts, uncles, grandparents, cousins. Just us. But you’re right, of course, my family goes back generations. They can’t all be bastards.’
Mari nodded her head sympathetically.
‘Why don’t you ask your sister. I bet she knows?’
‘Who. Ari?’
Mari thought about it; the name sounded so close to the one the two of them had been chatting about earlier in the week but she wasn’t certain.
‘Is she the youngest?’
‘No, that’s Aster.’ And then Clem grinned broadly. ‘Aster! You’re right; of course she’d know. How did you guess?’
‘Well you said the other night that she’s a bit like me, watching and taking notes. The first thing I would have done on hearing my family had titles and wealth and all that, would be to go and research the hell out of them.’
One of the blokes at the bar called over to Mari and asked if she’d like him to help himself, and with a good-natured scolding she told him to hold his horse and, excusing herself from the card game, she went and served the people at the bar. While she did that Clem lost herself in the flames, remembering her delight in finding those trunks. Some of the outfits had been incredible but lots were simply fun. Fancy dress costumes from the twenties, servants’ uniforms, children’s clothes, all spreading back at least a century. Clem had stopped rummaging in case she damaged something precious, but she knew simply from the trunks that there was a lot more to uncover.
‘So you like all that stuff then? Clothes and fabrics, and the like?’ said Mari returning from the bar and pulling her plait over her shoulder.
‘Yes. It’s my job, I design and make clothes.’
Mari grimaced.
‘That stuff does my head in. No offence. I mean, so long as it’s comfy that’s all I really care about, and I can wash the beer out easily.’ She shuffled the deck and began to deal again. ‘And now I’m stuck having to change my wedding dress, which I didn’t really like much in the first place. The idea of having to go through it all again is a total pain in the proverbial.’
Clem perked up; a clothing crisis. Now this was something that she was good at.
‘Why’ve you got to change your dress?!’ Clem leant forward, her cards forgotten, her expression so intent that Mari laughed. ‘Nothing so melodramatic, but my timetable has changed,’ and she pointed to her waist.
Clem looked blank for a second and then roared out loud, causing those at the bar to look over.
‘Shit, sorry. Is it a secret?’
‘No, not at all, shame is so last century but I’m not moving the wedding date. Everything is booked. However, chances are that my dress won’t fit. I tried it yesterday and it was already a squeeze, and the wedding is in two months’ time.’
Clem put her cards down and looked at Mari appraisingly.
‘Tell you what. Let me have a look at it and I’ll see if I can do anything to alter it for you. But only if you want. I do this sort of thing all day long. I’m a dab hand at last-minute alterations. If I can adjust your dress I will.’
‘Are you sure? I’d pay you.’
‘No, honestly, I can do alterations with my eyes closed, and it would be lovely to have something to work on. I’m between projects right now so you’d actually be doing me a favour.’
The two girls arranged a time for Clem to come over when Mari wasn’t working and they carried on with the cards.
‘He’s not coming you know,’ said Mari as Clem looked up at the main door that had just opened.
‘What?’
‘Rory Gowan. He doesn’t come in on a weekday.’
‘I wasn’t looking for him.’
‘Oh you just seemed to look up every time and I didn’t think you knew anyone else here.’
‘I know James Monroe,’ Clem protested. ‘I was wondering if he’d be dropping in. I owe him a drink.’
‘Ah, right enough then. Well, sometimes James does indeed pop in.’ She paused and then looked back at her cards grinning, ‘But Rory doesn’t.’