Authors: Georgiana Derwent
Adelaide was almost shouting now. Her anger was usually cold
and calm, but Tom was quickly realising that anything relating to Harriet could
make her irrationally furious.
“In that case I won’t make any opposition; I’ll just keep an
eye on proceedings.”
“That’s better. You need to take a step back Thomas. You’re
getting far too personal. You dislike George because he’s stronger than you are
and you’ve clearly still not shaken off your absurd crush on my daughter. I’ve
warned you about that before.”
“I’ve stayed away from her all term until I absolutely had
to step in, I promise. If you really want to know, she’s furious with me. I
don’t think you have to have any concerns on that front.”
“I’m glad to hear it, but I want to be sure. Make sure you
have your own date for the Cavaliers. Ideally make it someone my daughter can’t
stand and be insanely publicly passionate with her. Sometimes we just have to
be cruel to be kind.”
Tom moodily muttered his ascent.
“Excellent. I look forward to the debriefing on Saturday
evening. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a gallery launch to attend.”
***
The next morning, whilst still trying to decide how best to
respond to George, Harriet found another letter. She recognised the writing
immediately from various gift labels over the years. Harriet thought that
nothing could have surprised her after the previous night’s revelations, but
this was practically as shocking. Her mother never wrote.
Darling,
It’s been far too long since I’ve seen you, and I’m dying to
hear all about Oxford. I’m more proud of you than you could possibly know and I
can’t stop thinking about all the things you’ll have the chance to achieve.
I’ve decided it’s time for me to visit you and have a little chat. I’ll meet
you at Gee’s at 8 tomorrow night.
I love you so much and can’t wait to see you,
Mummy
***
The next evening, Harriet picked out a short black and white
patterned silk dress and added opaque tights and black heels with ribbons that
tied around her legs. The outfit showed off her sylph like figure to
perfection. She asked Caroline to help her with her make-up, guardedly telling
her the story of her mother’s disappearance as her friend carefully used smoky
eyeshadow to accentuate Harriet’s bright green eyes and highlighter to show off
her cheekbones. She twisted her dark hair up and secured it with a clip
decorated with a filigree butterfly.
“So your mother just walked out?” her friend asked in
amazement. “You talk about her as though she’s the greatest person ever. Don’t
you hate her?”
Harriet found it hard to formulate a reply. It was something
she’d struggled to understand herself over the years, but she could honestly
say she felt no anger towards her mother. “I never felt abandoned. She left
before I was old enough to really know her, so Aunt Kate was basically my real
mother for all practical purposes. Mum was just this magical figure who turned
up a few times a year looking beautiful and bringing gifts. People forgive
their parents far worse than that. Besides, you’d understand if you met her. In
fact I should introduce you some time. I think the two of you would get on.”
Just as Caroline left, still looking confused, Harriet’s
phone rang.
“Harriet, it’s me, Kate. I’m just calling to see how your
week’s been. Did you have a good night at the Halloween party?”
“Yes, it was quite fun,” she replied, not daring to even
hint at what had been going on over the last few days. “Anyway, guess what?
Mum’s coming to see me tonight.”
“Please don’t meet her alone,” Kate pleaded, sounding
shocked at the news. “She just can’t be trusted.”
“She’s my mum, auntie. I’ve got to see her,” Harriet
answered cautiously, not wanting to hurt the feelings of the woman who’d
brought her up. She never could understand the depths of Kate’s dislike for
Adelaide.
“Is the new husband coming? I want you to be careful around
him Harriet,” her aunt said firmly. “I’m serious.”
“He’s hardly new auntie, they’ve been married for sixteen
years. I know you’re not a fan, but he’s my step-father, not some kind of
monster.”
Kate steadfastly refused to allow her stepfather Gus into
the house. Harriet supposed that Kate has always been hurt that her beloved
brother’s widow had found someone to replace him so soon after his death.
“Just be careful, that’s all I’m saying.”
“Don’t worry, I’m not about to get utterly corrupted in one
evening.”
Kate laughed at this, but Harriet could tell it was forced.
Harriet felt deflated after the phone call, but as she set
off walking through the darkened city, her earlier excitement quickly returned.
Gee’s was amongst the nicest restaurants in Oxford, far outside of her student
budget. Sometimes, friends’ parents had come to visit and taken them there. Her
aunt and uncle, living further away than most people’s London and Home Counties
based relatives hadn’t made it down yet. When they did, they’d probably just
have a pub lunch. Gee’s was exactly the sort of place she’d felt her mother
would like, but she’d never expected a visit from her.
It was a long walk, further than she usually travelled in
Oxford, outside of the central grid of colleges, libraries and student bars.
She was regretting her choice of heels by the time she arrived, but would never
have dared to face her mother in flats.
Standing outside, she was impressed by the ornate glass and
wrought iron fronted building. Inside she could see candle filled chandeliers
hanging from the roof and beautifully decorated tables. A variety of attractive
and well-off looking people of all ages were clearly enjoying themselves.
The doorman took one look at her and led her straight to the
table where Adelaide and Gus were sitting. As he sat her down, he couldn’t take
his eyes off her mother.
“Harriet, darling,” she called, the excitement clear in her
voice.
She wore a heavy wool dress, high necked but cut above the
knees. Like almost all her clothes, it was red, in this case a deep burgundy.
Black open toed killer heels completed the look. Her fingernails and toes were
painted to match the dress and her lipstick was a deep blood red too. Harriet
knew that when she was born, her mother had been in her mid twenties, meaning
she must be in her forties now, but it was impossible to believe. She looked
like her slightly older sister.
The two of them embraced happily. “It’s so great to see
you,” Harriet said with a smile.
“You too. I really ought to have visited you before today.
Congratulations again on being accepted into Oxford. I can’t tell you how proud
I am of you darling. I hope you’re enjoying it as much as I did.”
Harriet nodded enthusiastically.
Gus had been silent so far, allowing them to have their
reunion in peace. After a moment though, he got up and gave her a tentative
hug.
“I’m so glad you were able to meet us,” he said. “Your
mother has been wanting to do this for weeks, and talking about nothing else
all day. I’m excited about seeing you for more than five minutes at a time
myself.”
“It’s good to see you too. Sorry about the way Kate acts,
I’d always have invited you in if it had been up to me.
On the rare occasions when her mother had visited her at her
aunt’s house, Gus had usually dropped her off. He’d always greeted her
charmingly and sometimes given her a little present, perhaps a Hamleys bear
when she’d been younger, or more recently, a book or small piece of jewellery.
She’d often thought that it’s be good to get to know him better, but Aunt
Kate’s attitude had made that impossible. She suspected he’d offered to help
Kate and Richard out financially in the past and been firmly rebuffed. His
apparent delight at seeing her today chased away the last of her doubts about
whether he’d made her mother choose between them.
“Anyway, how are things at the bank?” She asked, trying to
keep the conversation light.
“Oh, up and down, but I’m secure enough. I’ll have to leave
early unfortunately, I’m meeting a client tonight, but I thought I’d at least
say hello before leaving you and your mother to catch up.”
“I’ve ordered champagne to celebrate,” Adelaide interrupted,
summoning a waiter who appeared immediately and poured out three glasses of
Bollinger from a bottle sat in an elaborate ice bucket. “To my clever and
beautiful daughter,” she said and they raised their glasses and drank.
When they’d finished the bottle, Gus made his excuses. He
kissed Harriet on the cheek and told her he hoped to see her soon. He kissed
Adelaide full on the lips. Usually, such a public display of affection from
people in their forties and fifties would have mortified Harriet, but a
combination of their film star looks and general aura made it seem romantic and
beautiful.
After Gus had left, they made small talk whilst examining
the menu. Harriet settled on scallops followed by sea bass and her mother
ordered gravadlax and a rare steak.
Once the starters had arrived, her mother became more
intense. “I gather that you’ve been invited to the Cavaliers’ Winter Party.
That’s fantastic news. It’s such a prestigious society.”
“How on earth do you know that?” Harriet asked. “I have been
invited as it happens, but I haven’t decided whether to go yet. The guy who
asked me is a bit of a creep.”
“Oh don’t be silly darling. You can’t turn down something
like that. It doesn’t really matter who you go with. It’s one big party with
lots of people. Nothing bad could happen.”
“Where are you getting all of this information from?”
“Oh, I went a few times when I was at Oxford. Years ago of
course, but I remember it well.”
Harriet studied her mother’s face, for any sign that Tom’s
comments about the Cavaliers contained a grain of truth, but her expression
suggested only excitement at her daughter’s social success.
“You’re going to need a really showstopping dress if you
don’t want to look out of place,” her mother continued.
Worry about George and Tom had pushed that rather down
Harriet’s list of concerns, but it had crossed her mind. She was sure all the
female guests would have spent a fortune.
“So I bought you a few,” her mother said with a smile.
“We’ll try them on later, see what works. You’re about the same size as me so
it was easy to pick some out.”
They skipped puddings - “Sugar isn’t good for you darling,
and you don’t want to lose your gorgeous figure,”- but drank strong black
coffee and a glass of brandy each.
When her mother asked for the bill, the manager wandered
over, looking entranced, and explained that it was on the house.
Harriet was astonished, but Adelaide laughed lightly. “You’d
be surprised how often that happens to me.”
She left a large tip and led Harriet out to a Bentley parked
by the side of the restaurant. To Harriet’s amazement, there was a driver, who
was wearing a full Edwardian style chauffeur’s outfit and was startlingly
handsome. She tried to hide her surprise and act as though this sort of thing
happened to her every day. Relaxing into the soft leather seats, she wished
that it did. The odd thing about the vehicle was that its windows were blacked
out on both sides, so that they couldn’t see out anymore than other people
could see in. Harriet considered asking about this, but for all she knew, it
was standard for chauffeur driven cars, and she didn’t want to sound ignorant.
After a while, the car pulled smoothly to a halt. The driver
opened first her door and then her mother’s, helping them each out in turn.
“Thank you James, you can take a break and collect me at
midnight,” Adelaide said.
Harriet found herself just outside of the porters’ lodge. Students
weren’t easily impressed, but she saw a few glancing at the car with interest,
and several more staring at her mother.
“Miss French,” said the head porter. “What a surprise to see
you again. It’s been years.”
“Mrs French nowadays. Or indeed Mrs Piso on occasion. Still,
that’s an impressive memory for names and faces you’ve got there.”
“That’s my job Mrs French. I hope you enjoy seeing your
daughter. You really should do it more often.”
It took Harriet a while to put her finger on what was odd
about the perfectly civilised conversation. Then she realised. The porter had
been looking at her mother quite levelly and calmly, free from the look of awe
that all the waiters and passing students had shown. He’d also managed to hold
a normal, two sided, maybe even reprimanding conversation with her.
Adelaide looked slightly discomfited. “You are going to
allow me in aren’t you?”
“Once a member of the college always a member of the college
Mrs French. There’s nothing I or anyone else can do about that.” He turned to
Harriet. “Have a nice evening, Miss French.”
With that, Harriet led her mother to her staircase. When
they reached her landing, she was puzzled to see two long rails of clothing
accompanied by an eager looking, smartly dressed woman wearing a Selfridges
badge.
“What on earth?” Harriet exclaimed.
“As I said, you need a perfect dress. This is my favourite
personal shopper, and here are a selection of things in your size.
“Thanks, I guess. But how did you arrange this?”
“Oh, the usual way. Money and influence,” her mother said
with a light laugh.
Harriet hurriedly opened her door and let the woman wheel
the clothes rails into her room, wishing she’d tidied up a bit more first.
“As I explained on the phone, we’re looking for one cocktail
dress for a party, and another that would work for a formal dinner,” Adelaide
said. “One should be dramatic and figure hugging. Herve Leger or something. The
other should be floaty and romantic. Find some shoes to match as well. Maybe a
couple of Von Furstenberg dresses and similar things too for more casual
events.”