The Monte Carlo Proposal

CHAPTER NINE

Della’s Story

LOOK, I’ve got a great family, OK? They’re not quite like anyone else’s family, but they’re great. Especially Grandad.

My mother was his daughter, and the person Grandad loved best in all the world after his wife had died. When she got married everyone in the family thought Grandad would hate sharing her, but he and my father took to each other from the first.

They shared the same vice-gambling. Nothing serious. Just the odd visit to the bookies and a bit too much wagered on how fast a horse or dog could run. Kindred spirits.

They moved in with him, everyone lived happily until I was born, and then they were even happier. It lasted for three years. Until Mum and Dad died together in a car crash. After that, as I’d told Jack, Grandad raised me.

It took a while for me to understand that I came from a family of crooks. Or, as Uncle Alec used to say, we lived on the edge. He meant the edge of the law, the edge of a jail sentence.

Alec’s speciality was insurance fraud, or what he called ‘victimless crime’.

‘Who loses?’ he’d cry. ‘So maybe they put a penny on the premiums, but nobody notices that.’

Grandad would frown in a puzzled way, but he wasn’t great at arguing things through. And Alec could always silence him with a wink and a compliment about our new kitchen. Recently an insurance firm had replaced everything after a fire under a chip pan had covered the old one with soot. It now looked really lovely.

I’d been away staying with friends at the time, so I hadn’t seen the fire, but I knew Grandad didn’t like it mentioned.

Someone who could really argue the toss was Uncle Harry. He was a lawyer, and the one really respectable member of the family. He lived a good, decent life, paid his taxes without a murmur and maintained honest values.

The problem was his wife, who seemed to have a poor sense of direction and kept walking into doors. Alec loathed Harry. He kept making barbed remarks like, ‘Nobody’s ever seen my wife with a black eye.’

Which was true. Him, maybe. Her, never.

I was fond of Alec, and when he said that Harry was a poor advertisement for honesty I had to agree.

Their father was Grandad’s brother, Tommy, who used to refer to himself sentimentally as ‘one of the old-style villains’, trying to sound like the Godfather. Grandad said he was just a small time con artist who made a mess of everything he touched, but he had status because he’d been around so long and had done more time than anyone else. This didn’t seem to me a great recommendation, but my family sees things in their own way.

Tommy had six offspring, five of whom had gone into the business, and their offspring had followed. So I guess that made us a dynasty.

They lived by low-level crime, usually starting with shoplifting when they were under ten. Aunt Hetta: now there was an expert! She’d go into a big store with her three daughters, who’d collect things and deliver them to her. The cameras would pick up the kids, but they were always clean by the time they left the store. Aunt Hetta would sail out, loaded to the teeth, with nobody taking any notice of her.

She took me on one of these raids when I was eight, and I was really good at it. But then Grandad found out and hit the roof. I heard part of the row he had with Hetta, although I didn’t understand much. He said if he caught her leading me astray again he’d make her sorry she was born. She said he was depriving me of the family heritage.

‘How’s the poor girl ever going to earn a decent living if she doesn’t learn now?’ she wailed.

Grandad had been raised amongst all this, but he always claimed that he swore to go straight when I was growing up because he didn’t want to get sent to jail and have me put in care.

Like everything he said there was a pinch of truth in there, buried deep under a load of tinsel.

We lived reasonably well, because Grandad would occasionally have a big win on ‘the gee-gees’. But the wins were too big and too regular to be pure chance.

Later I realised that he had friends who knew what was going to win and tipped him off. I met one of them once, and he winked and said. ‘I like to pay my debts.’

But he wouldn’t say what Grandad had done to be repaid. Or when. Grandad wouldn’t say either.

He supplemented his wins with a few cash-in-hand jobs at a builder’s yard, plus, of course, all the state benefits he could apply for. Harry, being a lawyer, was a big help with getting the forms and telling him what to say on them. Alec said it was the only time in his life Harry ever did anything useful.

This was Grandad’s notion of ‘going straight’. I learned early on that he had his own version of everything. No story was ever quite as he said, but always embellished to make it more entertaining. To a child this seemed wonderful. So what if he was a bit dodgy? All right, more than a bit. How easy do you think it is for a man who was raised to be a crook to suddenly go straight?

He gave me a happy, magical childhood, and the security of knowing that he loved me without limit and I loved him without limit. And there was no more to be said.

Sometimes he’d get sentimental about the old days and want a ‘final fling’. Since he was useless at it he always got caught and went away for a few months.

When this happened I’d live with my cousins, who’d gone into white-collar crime and were big-time now. I’d live in their flash houses, receive expensive presents and go on their luxurious holidays.

That was how I discovered high living, but, given that Grandad had raised me to be honest, it might have been better not to know about it. I met a lot of the wrong people. Charmers, all of them, but you couldn’t have a sustained relationship with someone who might vanish into jail at any time.

Then I set my heart on being an actress. I got almost no work, but Grandad assured me we were in the money and he could keep me going.

Of course that was one of his daydreams, and I ought to have known it. But I suppose I blinded myself to what I didn’t want to know until I got a call from a police station. Grandad had returned to his old ways. It was a disaster. If he’d ever had any skills, which I seriously doubt, he’d forgotten them. He ended up behind bars and I did some thinking.

This was my fault. How was he supposed to stay on the straight and narrow when I was being a drain on him? He’d always looked after me, and now it was time for me to look after him.

I abandoned the theatre, which didn’t seem to notice my departure any more than it had noticed my arrival, and I got jobs demonstrating in stores. I lived as frugally as possible, saving for when Grandad came home.

I saw him on every visiting day, and it broke my heart to see him in that place. He was too old for prison, and I had to keep his spirits up by talking about the times we’d have together when he was released.

On my last visit I’d told him about being a waitress on The Silverado.

‘It’s just for a few weeks,’ I assured him. ‘I’ll come and see you as soon as I’m back in England. You’ll be out soon after that, and we’ll never let this happen again. Will we?’

‘Never,’ he said, holding up his hand. ‘That’s a promise.’

The trouble was, it had always been a promise. He was easy-going, and people could talk him into things.

So from now on I was going to be in total control of everything-my life, his life, the lot. No more nasty surprises.

And what did I have to go and do? Fall in love with a man I could never have. Brilliant!

Right from the start I knew Jack and I had no future.

It didn’t matter that I’d never been a crook. Practically everyone else I knew was. Mud sticks. Jack might be a millionaire, but he couldn’t afford me.

So our time together had to be something apart. I would enjoy, leave it, and remember it without bitterness.

I didn’t know how long we’d have. Jack had wanted us to stay together for a while after we left the boat. I thought we might even have a month.

But then I called home and found that Grandad had been released early. So I had to return at once. I allowed myself that one last evening with Jack. I thought I could handle it, but he took my breath away by asking me to marry him. The one thing I’d never thought of.

For a few glorious moments I let myself dream. I’ve never wanted anything so much in my life, and I never will again.

But I couldn’t say yes, for his sake. He made it hard for me by talking about love in a voice that seemed to wrap itself around my heart. If only, I thought, he would stop talking like that. If only he would never stop.

I made him give me a little time, just to put off actually saying no, which was going to break my heart.

Perhaps I shouldn’t have made love with him, but I knew that if I didn’t spend that night in his arms I’d regret it all my days.

I remember returning to our cabin after an evening at a little restaurant on the shore. There was some foolery with the dreary nightdress which I found pushed away under the bed, and he took it from me and tossed it away.

After that there was no going back. He grabbed me in a sort of frenzy. I suppose he was rough, but I didn’t mind because I knew it was only frustration, and I was feeling it too. If he’d gone on being restrained I’d probably have thumped him.

I heard some material tear and thought it must be my dress. Actually it was his silk shirt, as I discovered when I stepped over it later.

But if he didn’t rip my dress it was only because he didn’t need to. He was an expert in removing delicate things without damage, but I was pulling my own clothes off at the same time as his.

I suppose we were naked at about the same moment, and that was like a confirmation that this was really going to happen at last. So then there was no need to rush to bed. There was time to stand there and feel our bodies against each other.

It was so good. I knew his body well from having spent so much time gazing at it. I knew the heaviness in his shoulders, the hint of power kept in reserve, seldom needing to be used. I knew the way his torso narrowed down to lean hips and long, muscular thighs. I could still feel him lying against me, as he’d done the first morning, his desire unmistakeable. I’d wanted him then and I wanted him now.

I brushed my lips across his chest, listening to his heartbeat, hearing it grow a little more urgent as I moved my hands over him. It was the same with me. As his fingers tips roved all over me, exploring, inciting, my pulse grew faster.

He was murmuring soft words. ‘All my life-all my life-’

Did he mean that he’d waited for me all his life? Or that we would have a lifetime together? I couldn’t afford to wonder. Too much grief lay that way. Tonight I was going to be his in every way I could. In my heart I was already his for ever, and I tried to show him in ways he’d remember later.

I said he was always in control, but he was losing it then, and that was wonderful. He’d asked me to be his wife, and this was as good as our wedding night, even though the wedding would never take place.

We walked slowly to the bed, not hurrying because the world and time were ours. He sat on the edge and drew me towards him, between his legs, so that he could rest his head against my breasts. I wrapped my arms about him, feeling strangely protective of this strong man.

I felt the tears come as I realised that he trusted me enough to be vulnerable to me. I knew I mustn’t think of that. Not when I was about to betray his trust and desert him.

He kissed my breasts so gently, so lovingly, that all sense of strain fell away from me. I was nothing now but this man’s lover, with no purpose in life but to receive his love and give it back a thousandfold.

So I arched into him, clasping my hands behind his head and inciting him to love me with his tongue, his lips. And he did, again and again. I took deep breaths, bracing myself for the shattering, beautiful sensations that went through me.

But before long that wasn’t enough. I wanted him to feel the same. So I drew him down on the bed, made love to him with all my heart, and had the happiness of feeling his response.

‘Do you know how much I want you?’ he whispered.

‘Not until you show me,’ I whispered back.

So he did, easing over me and accepting the welcome I offered him. We became one with mutual joy. I could see my own feelings mirrored in his eyes and I smiled, knowing that he was as much mine in that moment as I was his.

And we were still each other’s when he left me, because we lay for a long time holding on, making the moment last. Maybe I only imagined it, but I like to think we fell asleep in the same moment.

I awoke after an hour. It wasn’t yet dawn, so I still had a little longer before life ended. Jack was sleeping on his front, his face turned towards me, his lips moving slightly as he breathed.

I kissed him. He didn’t stir, and I kissed him again, then again, saying goodbye. I tried not to cry, but I was never going to see him again and I couldn’t stop. A tear fell on his face. I dried it quickly and turned over to muffle the rest in the pillow.

Behind me I heard him stir and move closer to me, saying softly, ‘Are you all right?’

I muttered and buried my face deeper in the pillow. I didn’t want him to know I was crying.

I felt him settle down and go to sleep against me, his arm over me. Oh, Jack, Jack!

I took the coward’s way, slipping out in the dawn without waking Jack. He’d moved by then, and I was able to ease my way out of the bed without disturbing him.

After the loving we’d had it was cruel to leave him like that. It had probably been cruel to make love to him at all, but I wasn’t strong enough to do anything else. After Jack, life was going to be a bleak vista of greys, and I would need that night to help me through it.

Luckily he’s a heavy sleeper, and I was able to write my letter, dress and slip out without him knowing. I took a taxi to the railway station and a train to London, heading for Uncle Alec’s house and reaching it just before lunch.

Grandad was there, actually looking out of the window, and the sight of his face when he saw me made me feel for a moment that all the pain was worth it. I wasn’t always going to believe that, but I did at that moment. When the front door was opened he flung his arms around me, and I could actually feel him sobbing with relief.

I did a bit of crying too. It was so good to have him back, and now he was all I had to love.

Let me try to show him to you. Imagine Father Christmas-big white beard, twinkling eyes, the lot. At first sight he comes across as naïve and gullible, which part of him is. But there’s more to those eyes than a twinkle. He knows, as the saying goes, how many beans make five. He also knows how to pretend they’re six.

That’s my grandad. Great-hearted, generous, lovable, shrewd, dodgy, wildly unreliable and slightly potty.

‘Where’ve you been, girl?’ he asked, wiping his eyes. ‘I’ve missed you.’

‘I’ve missed you too,’ I said huskily. ‘I told you I was working on a ship. I left it at Southampton this morning and came straight here.’

‘Yeah, I remember you telling me now. Do well out of it, did you?’

I didn’t bother him with the details of how I’d changed ships. He didn’t need to know.

‘Yes, I did pretty well,’ I said cheerfully.

By this time the rest of the family were collecting around us. Most of them had come there today, so that we could have a party to celebrate. Alec, Hetta, more uncles and several of my cousins. Not all, of course, because two were unavoidably detained.

The mood was very jolly. They noticed the suitcases Jack had bought me, and their obvious value caused some comment. When I opened one to take out a dress for the party there were cheers as they viewed the contents.

‘Here, girl, you found yourself a millionaire, or what?’

‘Or what!’ I said, trying to laugh. ‘Definitely what!’

Maria, Hetta’s eldest daughter, held up one of the other dresses and twirled with it.

‘Don’t suppose your “what” has any brothers?’ she asked.

‘No, he’s unique,’ I said.

All three of Hetta’s daughters were into full-time shoplifting now, and doing very well at it. Lisa had tried something more sophisticated-computer hacking and stealing credit card numbers on-line. But she didn’t have a gift for it and made such a mess of things that she had to dump a valuable laptop in a lake to get rid of the evidence. At least, she thought it was valuable. She hadn’t been able to ask the price when she obtained it, but she’d seen one like it in a catalogue.

So she rejoined her sisters in the shops, and was soon back in business. The family were dead proud of them all. Hetta was especially proud of Lisa, who’d tried to broaden her horizons and ‘dream her dreams’.

‘She may have made a mess of it, but you’ve got to hand it to her for trying,’ she said.

‘Are you all right, luv?’ Grandad asked me halfway through the evening.

‘Yes, I’m fine.’

‘Only, you’re just staring into space.’

‘I guess it all feels a little weird to hear them talking that way, as though it’s the same as any other career. At any minute I expect to hear that they’re going to have a convention and an awards scheme.’

‘Well, I wouldn’t win any awards for that last job,’ he said with a sigh.

‘No, and there aren’t going to be any more,’ I told him firmly. ‘You’ve retired.’

It was a good party. Grandad and I stayed the night, but we were both looking forward to leaving next day and getting back to our own home. It was a tiny rented apartment in South London. Nothing grand, but it was cosy, and even now I loved it. We’d been happy there.

The first day at home wasn’t too bad because there was so much to do. Cleaning, buying food, making lots of tea and chatting while we drank it. After the jollity of the night before Grandad was a bit quiet, and once he just stopped what he was doing and flung his arms around me. I comforted him as I would have done a child, because that was what he was now. He was my child and I was going to protect him.

But when it was time to go to bed and I found myself alone there were no more defences against what was happening inside me. I loved Jack, and I’d walked away from him. It was for ever. No going back.

If I should weaken I had only to remember the party yesterday-crooks, con merchants, jailbirds, all milling around swapping jokes as if it was the most natural thing in the world. Even to mention Jack’s name among them could damage him, and I wouldn’t do it.

Suddenly I felt colder than at any time in my life. I got up and turned on the heating. But I was still cold.

After that first salary cheque, Jack had given me another one, so for a while we had enough to manage on. Just in case he was trying to trace me I opened a bank account in another part of London and deposited the cheques there. I half wondered if he would stop them, but that would have been spiteful, and not like Jack.

Sure enough, they cleared easily, and I drew out the money in cash to put it in my normal account. Things were fine for a bit. I couldn’t get a decent job, because leaving Grandad alone for long was too chancy, but I did some part-time work. It didn’t pay well. As the money ran out I began to sell my new clothes.

In the end the only thing I had left to sell was Charlie. I put it off as long as possible, but there was no choice.

He was my last link with Jack, but I didn’t cry. I was beyond that. And besides, I had to keep up a brave face for Grandad.

I thought I’d fooled him, but of course I hadn’t. One day he went out alone, came home, and told me he’d got a job as a waiter.

‘But you know nothing about being a waiter,’ I said, stunned.

‘Yes, I do. My cellmate used to be head waiter at-’ He named a top London hotel. ‘He served royalty. He told me all about it.’

He did well at first. He was a good mimic and picked up enough to get by. I thought perhaps our troubles were almost over.

But they were just beginning.