My Daughter, Audrey [ON HOLD]

The Other Mother

Her hair was pulled in a strict bun covered by a wide brim silk hat.  She wore large, round black shades with leopard arms.   She had a string of large pearls around her copper colored skin and a shirt dress made out of the finest French material.   She had white silk gloves that passed her wrists that were adorned with tasteful gold and silver jewelry.   In her hands she held a black leather bag with diamond studs on the strap and a huge emerald in the front.   Her shoes were polished pumps in a bold red that matched her color season.    Ms. Helen Trapp was dressed to please, seduce, persuade, and conquer the small side of Liverpool, England.  She believed that the English men would bow to her will and hand over Audrey willingly.  Little did she know that Peter had changed much over the years they hadn’t seen each other—she was not aware of the battles he was capable of winning.  

               The black limousine she was riding in pulled into the vintage town, bringing a repulsed gasp to Helen’s face.  She waved her hand in front of her nose and took out her handkerchief.  “You can smell the foulness from here!  Good gracious, this is not place for that girl.  Matthew, pull over by the shop.  I need to powder my nose and tidy my hair.  Wouldn’t want to look like I’ve been in a hurricane before I meet my penniless lover!”  Helen observed herself in her hand-held mirror before snapping it shut and primping her hair.   The limo parked by the curb and Helen’s servant got out of the passenger seat and opened her door.   Her fashionable heels kicked out first and then landed softly on the rainy stones.  Helen looked at her servant’s watch and shook her head shamefully.

               “The rain delayed us; we could have been at the house twenty minutes ago!  Doesn’t matter, Peter has probably forgotten that we’re coming.”   Helen strutted into the shop, which so happened to be the tailor’s shop.   She walked up to the counter and tapped the bell.  

               Bill appeared with scissors in his hands and a spool of thread clenched between his teeth.  He took the thread out and placed it on the counter.  Smiling widely, he said welcomingly, “Good morning, ma’am!  What can I do for ya?”  He examined her fine clothes and widened his eyes.  “Ya don’t look like you need any adjusting or fitting, ya looking for someone, miss?”

               “No, just the restroom, sir,” Helen replied coldly, chewing on the inside of her lip impatiently.  

               “In the back, lass, to your left.”

               “Thank you.”  Helen marched towards the backroom and on her way there, she saw a portrait of Peter, Audrey, and Jennie.  It was a splendid photo, indeed.   Peter had both his arms around the girls; Jennie was beaming and her mouth was opened in a gorgeous smile, as if Peter had just tickled her to make her smile more for the camera.   Audrey was clutching onto Peter’s arm and her smile was content and innocent.  Helen stomped one foot.  “I see you are already starting the family album!”  Helen returned to the front desk.  She tapped the bell again, this time more obnoxiously, even though Bill was standing right there.

               “Oh, haha, not me ma’am, the lad is.”

               “The portrait, you may think it’s by chance I tell you this, but that young girl in the photo, that is my daughter!”

               Bill turned around and spotted the family portrait tacked to the wall.  “Oh yes, Audrey.  You must be mistaken, miss, that’s Peter’s daughter.”

               “Well, I might as well let you know that I’m here to collect my daughter.  So, if Peter tries to tell you that she’s his, you might as well not believe him and instead believe he’s after her for the money!  She’s worth a lot of money--,”

               “You’re American, aren’t you?”  Bill interrupted, bemused at why she was shooting off from the mouth with him.

               “No, I originated from England, but practically raised in America.”

               “What does this have to do with Peter again?”

               “He’s kidnapped my daughter for money purposes, that dirty rat!  We’re here to settle the rightful ownership.”

               “Why are you talking to me about it?”

               Helen wasn’t sure herself—she just enjoyed complaining about her problems and making people feel sorry for her.  She wasn’t that bright.  “I just want you to know that if they question you about her--,”

               “Listen, ma’am, I have work to do.  I have no time to be pulled into anything involving court cases or any cases in a matter of fact.    I don’t know you at all, but I know Peter.  And I know that he would never do such an abominable thing!  He told me the story one evening—about you leaving the letter, you must be Helen.”

               Helen tightened her lips and tromped to the bathroom.  She didn’t say a word to him afterwards as well.   She stormed out to the vehicle, grunting curse words and being upset with more trivial things.   “Hurry, I spent too much time in that stupid tailor shop.  Oh well, at least my entry into their dirty hole will be a lavish one!”