Page 18 of A Family Affair
‘Why?’ Levi hadn’t even met this Ziggy person, but he could picture a young girl, lying in her room feeling like her life had been trampled on.
‘Because the Armed Forces are the only organisation exempt from discriminating against a person with diabetes. Ziggy would never be able to join-up. So, in her eyes, there was no point in joining the cadets, either. Even learning to drive would be different for Ziggy. A new set of rules and regulations to follow. In her head, it seemed everything set her apart from her friends. Made her the odd one out.’
Levi shook his head. ‘I honestly had no idea or even thought about the impact it would have on someone, getting a diagnosis like that. Did things get easier for her?’
‘Yes, they did, but it wasn’t plain sailing and we had blips because–’ Honey didn’t continue, her attention was drawn elsewhere. ‘In fact, talk of the devil, here she is now.’
Honey nodded in the direction of the bar. As she approached, Ziggy’s electric pink dreadlocks bounced with each stride she took in her flowery Dr Martens. Waving tattooed arms that held a stack of jangling bracelets, her smile was broad, with an upper lip adorned with a piercing. As was her nose and both ears, many times over.
Ziggy spoke first. ‘Well this is a nice surprise. What are you doing drinking on a school night, Miss Honeysuckle?’ She pulled up a chair and extended her hand to Levi, her focus fully on him. ‘Andhello… I don’t think we’ve met.’
He extended his hand too, managing, ‘Hi, I’m Levi…’ then thankfully, before nerves took over and his words dried up, he was saved by Honey, who took over the conversation.
As she waded in, explaining about his car, thankfully omitting the date from hell part, then onto Lizzy’s son’s ears, and then something about Beryl and a box of stuff her grandad had dropped off earlier, Levi relaxed.
It was also hard to keep up.
Still, he was happy to sit back and observe Honey and Ziggy. He could tell they were a proper double act, finishing each other’s sentences, talking fast and furious, only coming up for air. They were amusing and real so after he offered to get the drinks in and they accepted, he left them to it.
Ordering a pint of snakebite and two cokes because he and Honey had to drive home, Levi accepted that his pitch might have to wait. It wasn’t a problem, and meant he would have to meet Honey again. That was a bonus and, for what he had in mind, there was plenty of time.
CHAPTER15
CLARISSA
Clarissa was nervous. And that wasn’t a state of being that she was altogether familiar or comfortable with. Her life was so perfunctory that there was little room for anyone or anything upsetting the equilibrium, yet here she was, waiting in the drawing room for a researcher from the production company. Clarissa was discombobulated.
It had been a bit of a whirlwind since Mr Henderson’s call, but as dear Jennifer said, it gave Clarissa less time to dither and back out.
She had provisionally agreed to meet ‘the cousin’ the following day. They would have lunch there at the Manor. Reassured that Jennifer and young Mr Tristan would be in attendance, she’d managed to put that potential trauma to the back of her mind.
Clarissa was dreading the encounter. He was probably a very nice chap, the American. On the other hand, if he was a descendant of her uncle, there was a very good chance the nasty-gene flowed through his veins.
Don’t think of him, not now. Focus on today and not the past.
Doing just that, Clarissa turned her attention to the television people, or whatever they were, who it seemed had strict schedules and time slots and were eager to get the ball rolling. Hence, an early morning meeting on a very sunny Friday had been arranged.
Clarissa could see the driveway from where she sat and was watching like a hungry hawk for what she imagined would be some kind of Winnebago with a satellite dish on its roof. She’d seen them on the news. A hoard of eager beavers would pile out and begin scouting around her grounds, trampling on her flower beds and peering in windows.
Stranger danger.The phrase that popped into Clarissa’s head, along with an information advert from way back. Charley the cat and his little friend who warned children everywhere of the dangers that lurked out there in the big bad world.‘Charley says…’
The arrival of a dusty hatchback, shooting along the tarmacked drive, followed by the disembarkation of only two bodies coincided with the click of a door handle.
Jennifer’s excited voice replaced Charley the cat’s. ‘They’re here! Shall I show them straight in?’ Jennifer cocked her head and gave Clarissa a concerned look. ‘Now remember, they’re just here to have a look around, not open all your closets looking for family skeletons.’
At this, Clarissa’s tension level dropped a notch. Jennifer had the knack of reading her charge well, and she’d spent much of breakfast reassuring Clarissa that she could still change her mind and put a stop to filming whenever she wanted. With this in mind, Clarissa straightened her back and said, ‘Show them in.’
* * *
They were getting on like a house on fire. Penny the researcher was a delight. Most affable, despite being a bit on the scruffy side, with her tangled fair hair, hoody and baseball boots that had seen better days. Clarissa presumed it was how young folk dressed these days.
Despite lacking in the appearance department, Penny was an intelligent scrap of a thing who informed Clarissa she had a modern history degree and fascination with all things gone before. She had a habit of blinking and clasping her notebook while she spoke, like a shield – maybe a nervous tic. So, as was Clarissa’s way, she resolved to put the young woman at her ease.
Terry, the photographer was the opposite. Gregarious and enthusiastic but polite with it and, while Clarissa and Penny chatted, after seeking permission, he got on with clicking away, zooming in on this and that, taking shots of the grounds from the window, his long limbs crouching and twisting, lost in his own artistic world.
Feeling much more comfortable, Clarissa decided it was time to get on and as previously agreed with Jennifer, would be pushed in her blasted wheelchair along the marbled corridors and around the vast reception rooms. There was absolutely no way she would be able to walk all that way.
‘Come along. Let me give you the grand tour and afterwards we can have some tea and biscuits. We will start with the dining room…’
