Privilege Without Love (eBook)

Chapter One

Resettlement

“Ready Martha, I really must not be late to keep my appointment with Mr Beckworth, he is a man who believes one should always be punctual. When my father invited him to various meetings here, he was always so prompt, daddy would say you could set your clock by him. I know he would regard it as excessively bad mannered of me to keep him waiting; plus I would not dare.” Martha and I then found ourselves giggling at that remark, before Martha answered, “I am ready Miss Gabriella”

Martha Barfield had been invited to join the other members of our small staff over a quarter of a century ago. She had always been part of my life and had taken that little extra care where I was concerned, in many ways having spoilt me when she could. Martha was utterly devoted to my parents, ensuring our home was run as my parents wished. I was often amazed that not a speck of dust was seen or allowed anywhere. Due to my father’s antique business, my home was filled with some of the most stunning beautiful antiques that could be bought outside most Royal Palaces. Thanks to my father’s enormous circle of friends and acquaintances, who always informed him when something special would be coming up for sale.

Sadly, Martha had lost her husband many years previously. She had asked her sister who was also a widow, to come and join our staff as a cook. Martha also enquired of her sister, if she would like to come and live with her in the dear little fisherman’s cottage on the edge of town, and where they still remain.

Looking at Martha’s kind understanding face, distressingly I knew she was very close to tears, so quickly said, “Martha, I deeply understand how hard it is for you. I know you have always been very happy working here, plus you and I have always been close. I give you my word that once I have settled in a new home, I will write and tell you all about it, and of course give you my address.” Those few words brought a small smile to her face, though I could see a tiny tear appear and quickly continued. “Your taxi my dear will be here very shortly. Martha, you must promise me, you will look after yourself, ensuring you will be well enough to come and visit with me.” Martha quickly took out a tiny, laced edged hankie, which was part of a set my mother had given to her for her birthday and wiped away her tear.

Taking a last look around the elegant drawing room my parents had created with a great deal of love, with its overly large Georgian fireplace, plaster walls topped with deep plaster coving and ceiling roses, all painted in white and pale ice blue. My father had beautiful top quality wooden floors fitted, then ensured the rest of the rooms in the house were fitted out in the same way. I had decided to leave the curtain fittings, though ensured the curtains themselves which had been made in China and were of pure silk, I would take with me. The enormous Indian carpets and Chinese rugs which had covered most of the floors, were now also carefully packed away. The list of course just went on and on, leaving an enormous task when the time comes to unpack once I resettle. Maybe it will even feel a little like Christmas once I start opening up the boxes, now containing so many exquisite things I had already forgotten about.

“Here is the front door key Miss Gabriella. I have indeed had it a very long time and stupid though it sounds; I will miss seeing it on my key ring.” Giving Martha a smile I took the key from her and said, “Thank you Martha, I understand how you feel as I also, will miss my door key.” As Martha reluctantly handed over her key, we both heard a car draw up the drive. Once again, a few tears escaped Martha’s eyes as I gently went on to coax her, “Come along Martha dear, I think this must be your taxi pulling up, as sadly I am no longer expecting other visitors.”

We walked to the front door without either of us saying another word. Once reaching it, Martha stretched out her arms, then gently gave me a loving hug. Stepping into the drive, I stood and waited as Martha carefully climbed into the taxi, each going on to agonizingly wave goodbye to the other. Within a matter of moments, the taxi and the lady who had been so much part of my life disappeared out of the large double wrought iron gates. Once having reached the bottom of the fairly short but well-kept drive, which our gardener took such great care of, I returned for the last time into the wide, beautifully decorated sunny hallway. Once there, I tried to recapture in my mind’s eye, the various happy events I had experienced while living here with my parents, then quickly remembered I simply did not have the time to reminisce, as I dare not keep Mr Beckworth waiting.

Earlier in the morning, having packed my car up with the cases I wished to take with me, including my precious computer bag. All my other personal and household items having already been sent ahead, I proceeded to pick up my coat and handbag off the hall chair for the last time. Stepping outside, knowing this would be the last time I would lock the front door, I desperately wanted to cry. I knew though it was futile, as nothing would now change the situation I found myself in, plus I did not wish Mr Beckworth to see me with red eyes. Throwing my coat and handbag onto the back seat, I stepped into the car my darling parents had insisted on buying me, as they were celebrating a tremendous business deal my father had successfully completed.

While starting up the car, I could not help taking a last look at the house I had called home and had been brought up in. Being set in its own grounds, I could not help myself by also taking a final glimpse at the front garden, with its beautiful array of shrubs and trees. Some being very old, many others my dearest father had bought over the years and loved helping our gardener to plant them. My young girl’s imagination allowed me to believe this was a small magical park. The lawns in spring were covered in various types of daffodils, crocuses, and primroses, along with many other wonderful bulbs which grew in the borders. As we lived a little out of the village, the house was surrounded by fields. Sometimes, bunny rabbits would come to visit, also squirrels and so many wonderful birds would be singing away in the various trees. Summer days were filled with laughter, and Martha would serve afternoon tea containing yummy tiny cucumber sandwiches and homemade cake. All served under one of the old apple trees, giving a light relief from the heat of the afternoon sun.

Then came the first snows, regardless of it being freezing cold, the snow would turn the garden into a white magical playground. My parents would build a snowman and help me to dress him up, with Martha always finding a spare carrot for his nose. My father had an old pipe which we were allowed to use just for this occasion. My parents and I would then indulge in a snowball fight, mother and I against my father, our laughter echoing around the garden. Now painfully, I must leave this beautiful happy world my parents had created for me and take those precious memories to another town where the three of us had enjoyed such wonderful holidays.

“Good morning, may I help you.” The young receptionist asked, as she greeted me with a pleasant smile the moment I walked into Mr Beckworth’s chambers, having arrived two minutes before my appointed time. Informing her who I was, she immediately went to knock on Mr Beckworth’s door, to inform him I was in reception and waiting to see him.

“Show the young lady in immediately,” I heard Mr Beckworth order his receptionist. The young lady gave me a sweet smile and asked, “Please will you come this way Miss Sky,” the young lady kindly informed me. Regardless I had already overheard Mr Beckworth say he would see me right away, I followed her to Mr Beckworth’s office, then thanked her and found Mr Beckworth waiting at the open door to greet me.

“Welcome Miss Gabriella,” he said as he held out his hand to shake mine. Mr Beckworth has always addressed me by my first name for as far back as I can remember, including adding the Miss. “Good morning Mr Beckworth.” I replied, then smiled and went on to ask, “Please will you call me Gabriella?” I requested. Mr Beckworth smiled; then gently gave me his answer which took me totally by surprise.

“No, my dear, it would be very wrong of me to do so. My respect for both you and your parent’s memory, is far too great. I am sure you know how deeply sorry I am we are meeting like this, please do come in and take a seat. May I offer you a cup of tea or coffee.” For a few moments, I kept my thoughts to myself, then said. “Very well Mr Beckworth, I understand and appreciate your reasons. Thank you for your offer of a cup of tea, but for the moment, I am quite drowning in tea, as Martha has been overly kind which I am sure you will understand.” Mr Beckworth smiled, then waited for me to sit in one of the two comfortable chairs opposite his desk, which were situated close to the window overlooking one of the pretty main streets of the town.

“Miss Gabriella, I am sure you understand this conversation is indeed very hard, in fact it is almost as painful for me, as it is for you. Having been your parent’s friend, confidante, as well as their solicitor for over thirty years. No one my dear, could have expected them to pass away in such terrible tragic circumstances. Sadly, bringing this enormous change to your life, which you my dear must now have to undertake.” Quietly answering, I said, “Thank you Mr Beckworth, I deeply appreciate your kindness.” I gave him a quick smile before continuing, hoping to try and lighten a deeply disturbing situation which affected both of us.

Mr...