Page 51 of A Family Affair
Seconds passed before Chuck spoke but when he did it was to her face, looking her in the eye where a moment of honesty passed between them.
‘You probably don’t know what it’s like, not to fit in, comin’ from your fine family but I never have, not ever.’
Clarissa was tempted to disagree but replied instead, ‘You’d be surprised, but do go on. Why do you feel this way?’
‘I’m not sure how much you know about my family, if the PI explained about my parents and how I’m related to you, but truth is, I’m from rotten stock either side of the tracks. Whichever way you look at it.’
That had been a revelation because there’d been no hint of this from Tristan. According to the report she’d seen, that gave a genealogical rundown of where and who Chuck came from, the American connection began with her cousin, Quentin. He’d married an heiress, Mirabelle de Haviland, from Chicago.
Clarissa remembered the wedding like it was yesterday. A truly magnificent affair that would have financially crippled her Uncle Oscar. As it happened, Mirabelle’s father was happy to show the Brits how it was done, anddearuncle was off the hook. Clarissa could imagine him on one, hanging in the cold store in the cellar like a side of beef, because he was an animal. A beast of the worst kind.
Shaking that image off, Clarissa took the opportunity to fill in the gaps and speed things along, eager to get to whatever Tristan was up to.
‘I do know that after my cousin Quentin married Mirabelle they headed for Chicago and you are descended from the male line who, by all accounts had a marvellous time squandering their wealth and making a total hash of things. Your grandmother married Ronald Chamberlain, who’d relocated to Kentucky after being made bankrupt. Your mother, Delilah married Hank Chamberlain. So we can pick up the story there if you like. Tell me about them.’
Clarissa saw Chuck’s chest heave a sigh, so she sought to reassure him. ‘Chuck, please know that I’m not going to judge you by your parents because my father has a lot to answer for, as does his brother, but that’s another story for another day. I don’t care what Delilah and Hank did, I’m actually more interested in you. So please, relax.’
Chuck gave a nod and a smile then began. ‘My daddy was a man’s man. A drinker and nasty with it. Too handy with his fists, especially where I was concerned, because according to him and his warped view of the world, I was a big sissy. That’s what he called me all my life. I swear when I hear his voice and imagine his face he’s mad and snarling and calling me that name.’
This made Clarissa sad. ‘Oh Chuck, I’m so sorry but why did he call you that?’
He shrugged. ‘Simple really. I hated violence, never got into a fight, and would rather get beat up than defend myself. Wasn’t into sport so much, although I got real good at pretending I was. But what marked me out as a sissy was my love of music, and movies and getting lost in another world where singing and dancing took me to another place. And animals. I love animals so having a pa who worked at the abattoir and liked to bring his work home, verbally and in a plastic bag, wasn’t a good mix.’
Clarissa thought back to earlier when Cookie Beattie proudly brought out the silver platter and the awkward moment everyone realised a non-meat eater was about to throw up. ‘Ah, now I understand. You were most polite at lunch when you turned down the meat and had I known you were a vegetarian beforehand I’d have catered for you – but let’s blame Tristan for that. It’s easier and more fun. Please continue.’
‘So my daddy was a chauvinist and a bigot, and I used to thank the lord that I wasn’t homosexual, not that I’m against them, mind. I’ve met some great guys in New York who’re gay, but my life wouldn’t have been worth living. But my mama was worse. He was scared of her and that’s the truth of it.’
‘Oh you poor man. I’m almost scared to ask why.’ But she did, because Clarissa was nothing if not thorough, which was why Chuck explained.
‘Mama was the real mean one. She’s gone crazy so they locked her up in a home, and when my daddy died, I didn’t shed no tears. I’ve had time to think on it all and I suppose Mama was bitter. About everything and everyone who had more than her. My daddy came from people who had money and she thought she’d backed a winner, but they ended up on the bad side of town in a trailer park. My daddy was no stranger to jail and Mama spent a few nights behind bars, too. I forgot to mention that, sorry.’
At this Clarissa shook her head, by means of telling him there was no need. Chuck picked up the tale.
‘Well, it made her bitter and I was her whippin’ boy in the true sense of the word. She didn’t defend me when my daddy was mad. I think she enjoyed it, seeing him act that way. That’s what used to hurt the most. Not my daddy’s fist. The fact that my mama never stood up for me because she should’ve.’
At this remark Clarissa inhaled. Suddenly overwhelmed by a memory. Of that sense of injustice, a soul-destroying moment after being incredibly let down by the one person who should have stood by you. Your own mother.
Clarissa was becoming bogged down by the past, hers and Chuck’s, and they’d had such a lovely lunch, she didn’t want it all ruined by their memories, so sought to lift them, quickly.
‘Yes she should have protected you. But I can tell this is making us both feel sad so let’s move the story along. I know they’re gone, one way or another, and how and when is of no consequence anymore. You’re here now and that’s what matters.’
Chuck’s shoulders relaxed slightly and he rested against the arbour wall. Perhaps remembering his past and his parents had exhausted him.
‘You know somethin’, that’s the nicest thing anyone said to me in a long while so thank you, ma’am. And I’m very glad to be here, too. Meeting some decent family for once in my life, so I hope I haven’t’ disappointed you in any way and that we can become good friends. Because I’d like that a lot.’ Then when he gave her a rueful smile and laid his hand on her arm, it almost made Clarissa gasp.
It was such an unfamiliar gesture, the touch of another, one reserved only for Jennifer when she sought to reassure or give assistance.
Thankfully, Clarissa resisted the urge to recoil or react in a negative way and was forced to swallow a little lump in her throat, dismissing it thoroughly with a cough and a statement.
‘And so would I, Chuck. Now, you should know that I’m not used to meeting new people or opening my home to strangers, and most of the time my guard is up. I’m a very mistrustful old lady and I’d really prefer it not to be that way. So let’s get going and start again, shall we?’
Chuck stood and looked decidedly brighter. ‘I’d like that a lot, thank you, Miss Clarissa.’
She was about to suggest he dropped the ‘miss’ but then again it was endearing and part of who he was, so she remained silent, and waited patiently while he manoeuvred her onto the path.
As they set off towards the house her thoughts returned to the start of the conversation and the niggle of doubt she’d had with regards to Tristan. He’d clearly omitted certain facts from his initial report. Whilst Chuck had a less than salubrious backstory, which hadn’t put her off one bit, she should have been told. About the no-good, jailbird parents at least.
Had Tristan doctored the report from the PI and if he had, why? Was he that desperate to provide her with an heir? Maybe he wanted a bonus for doing so, but it was all very curious, which made her ask one last question.
