Sweet Satisfaction (Purple UGC Winner 2014)

Sweet Satisfaction - Sixty-Six

Sixty-Six

16th October 1915 -The Spectator

Advance of Germans into Serbia. Have also captured Belgrade. German air raid on the 13th- 2 women, 6 men killed, 34 injured.

I looked up from last weekend’s newspaper, horror swirling in my eyes. Had the last thing those poor people seen been the Zeppelins- the fish-shaped, German predators that haunted me still in my dreams? News around the village was that another battle, the Battle of Loos, had ceased on the 14th, only a day later for Britain to declare war on Bulgaria. It seemed like this war would never end, if the Germans kept wanting power and we kept creating conflict between more countries!

I shivered, and snapped at Sandy to stop brushing down the sideboards so vigorously.

“’Er royal highness is coming.”

“Let me guess, King’s wife is called Queen?” I said sarcastically.

“No, it’s me mother Caroline who will be coming, your auntie. An’ before yer ask, I live ‘ere cos she don’t want me.”

“Oh Sandy, I’m so sorry.” I got up and put my arm awkwardly around her, my newfound, strange little cousin. At least my mother did care about me, despite having affections for her uncle.

*****

The next day Caroline strode through the door, arms akimbo. Her hair was twirled up on her head in the most elaborate and large pompadour my eyes have ever seen, and an enormous wide-brimmed, feathered hat was atop this, the velvet colouring accentuating her creamy skin and cheekbones. She extended a slender hand flashing with an array of jewels from amber to onyx. Clearly, the war did not stop her in her extravagant dressing.

“I am your aunt Caroline. It is such an honour to meet you, the Kingston Heiress.” She laughed, almost a mocking laugh, and I felt no warmth towards this new aunt of mine. I also felt rather dowdy, in my plain dress.

“If little miss Elsie is here, that must mean my dear sister Isabella is too.” She turned around, large silk skirts swaying, clapping her hands together.

“Hello Isabella. I wonder why your husband isn’t here. Ooh, let me guess, he’s off killing more of our aunts and uncles?” Everyone shifted nervously. I blinked in bewilderment. She had only just arrived and she was making fights?

“Actually,” Mother replied coolly, stepping out of the shadows, “He’s gone to murder your husband for robbery of the jewels on your hands. Oh, I’m so sorry, I forgot that you don’t have a husband any more, because no-one would look at the likes of you. No wonder he ran off to Canada with his doxy.”

I couldn’t stop grinning, in spite of my mother’s rudeness. My mother certainly had a sharp tongue! But how could this vulture be my aunt? After all, she had started the insults. The tension in the room was rather thick, like fog.

“Now, now, girls, don’t fight. You haven’t seen each other in so long, can you not forget the bad blood between you?” My grandfather stepped forward and threw his arms between them, “It will harm Bella’s baby.”

“Is that another of King’s bastards?” Caroline smirked. I felt like someone had punched me; I clutched my stomach, letting out a gasp. I turned to Mary, eyes wide. Was it true? Was it honestly true?

My assorted cousins let out gaps. I shivered as King himself stepped forward. Was this man mine and Benjamin’s father, my brother who had died at this house?

“Stop it, both of you, stop it! We are here because of my sister, my poor dead sister, and everyone has seemed to have forgotten that.”

*****

“We are gathered here together to celebrate the life of Mary Englewood…” I was seated in a pew at the back of the church and the vicar’s voice was like the constant patter of rain outside, which was making the sloping hills around the village fertile. My Mother was sobbing beside me, a handkerchief in her balled fist.

King walked up to the lectern, and began his speech. My stomach churned once more; this man could be my father, and he hadn’t commented on Caroline’s outburst. Did this mean it was true, this dirty little secret? Was I really going to lose my inheritance, the inheritance my brother had died for, to Mary, second best Mary?

His voice cracked after a while and the only things I heard where my grandmother’s parents were Ruskin and Elsa Maxwell, she loved her husband Victor and- It suddenly hit me so hard that I had to put one, black gloved hand to my mouth and the other to my stomach (again.) Wasn’t it just a strange coincidence that we were Kingstons and the crying man at the top of the church was called King?

*****

After the burial, we all stood around uncertainly, the men shifting in ill-fitting suits, back at the Englewood House, as I liked to call it. I had grieved little during the service, even though I felt a little hollow and empty- my mind was too busy swimming with confusion.

Sandy pushed past another little cousin pointing at me to their mother, saying “Look that’s the Kingston Heiress”, and asked if I was alright by myself.

“Is King King’s real name?” I blurted out suddenly. She smiled.

“No it ain’t, miss. ‘Is name’s Samuel King Maxwell. Bit like me, really, me real name’s Sandra Ruskin Englewood-Collington.”

Suddenly I realised how well I fitted into this family, even if I couldn’t grieve properly for my grandmother, knowing my mother might have helped her demise, or if I couldn’t remember the difference between Aunt Jane and Jean. We were all characters from a charade box waiting to be guessed correctly.