Shining Knights

Sidney hit the punching ball hard. It was Sunday morning, after breakfast and before setting off to Lady Denham's. He had the gym all to himself, and he was growing more and more frustrated.

Gigi did not settle in well. She loathed Gussie Griffiths, to whom she referred to only as her "jailer". She got on reasonably well with Mary (but then, everyone did), but his secret hope that two little girls plus baby James and the cutie that was Henry would distract her from her troubled love life had not been fulfilled. Instead, she kept trying to blackmail him.

As to his siblings: Diana wanted to prescribe him some homoeopathic nonsense "to calm your temper, brother", Arthur ignored all concerns about diabetes and had missed an appointment to have a blood sample taken, and Tom sang the praise of Charlotte Heywood, a song Sidney did not want to hear.

He had treated her like an ass. He knew that. He had known that the moment he said those words. I don't care. I am not interested in your approval or disapproval. I don't think of you at all, Miss Heywood. She had acted like an adult, apologised for her errors, and offered peace – and he had reacted as if he was a petulant child… but that was an insult to Jenny, Alicia, and Henry. He had responded with precisely the same behaviour he had reproached Charlotte Heywood for: baseless criticism, thoughtless disparagement, little understanding. The punching ball bounced around wildly after his next strike, too fast to be hit again.

Worst of all, Charlotte Heywood obviously thought of him as an ass as well. She had simply stopped seeing him. She had asked Babington about his golfing lesson and discussed Instagram posts with Crowe while perfectly pretending that he was not there, standing next to his friends. She had helped out in the Conservatory on Saturday afternoon – Tom was a bit short of staff because of the wedding in the ballroom – and managed to serve him tea without looking at him or speaking to him once. Yet his own words seemed to be written all across her face: I am not interested in your approval or disapproval, Mr Parker.

The punching ball was still wobbling around. Oh, how he needed something more bracing than hitting that stupid ball… perhaps a bath in the sea would cool down his temper.

"Mr Parker?" Kamila, Clara's Polish assistant housekeeper, was standing next to the rowing machine, a safe distance away from him. "Mrs Griffiths is asking for you to come up to the Denham Suite. It's that girl…"

Gigi had locked herself into the master bedroom. "I'm not going," she shouted through the door.

"Gigi," Sidney said, wiping the sweat from his brow. "The lady of the town has been kind enough to invite you for lunch. It's a Denham tradition."

"I don't care about your stupid traditions!"

"There's nothing stupid about meeting new people and making conversation."

"I will be gawped at and served up for general amusement! Look at her, the millionaire's wayward daughter! Black as treacle and expelled from school!"

"Stop talking nonsense. No one knows about what happened in school unless you tell them. And this is 2017, not 1817. Even Lady Denham has seen a black teenager before. – And now open the door. My brother owns the hotel, it will take me less than five minutes to get into your room."

At last, Gigi turned the safety lock. When she stood in front of him, he saw that she had been crying heavily, her eyes bloodshot and swollen. For a moment, he was overcome with pity. "Look, Gigi," he said, touching her shoulder. "I promised your father I would look after you, and I will. One day, you'll understand. This is only for your good."

"So you say," she said full of defiance and vanished into the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind her again.

x

Charlotte had never been invited to a luncheon party before – at least not by someone as eminent as Lady Denham, and she did feel rather excited about the event. Dressed in her Sunday's best, her hair braided and pinned up, her large eyes even larger after a smart appliance of make-up, she met the Parker family and their friends in the hotel lobby to drive over to Sanditon House.

There was a bit of a mix up about who was going with whom. Arthur wanted to join Sidney in the Aston Martin, Charlotte looked in the other direction when someone – Mary Parker – suggested that she could go with Crowe, Babington and her brother-in-law in the BMW while the rest of them took the hotel bus, Gussie Griffiths insisted in riding in the front row, and Diana said she would get sick in the van.

Gigi Lambe did not want to go with anyone or anywhere at all. She was staring at the glass cabinets again as if considering which one to smash first. But that was not going to restrict Charlotte's pleasure. Once it was worked out that Mr Sidney Parker would, of course, drive his own car and accept only one person in the passenger seat – his foster daughter – she started to enjoy the occasion.

Walking into Lady Denham's drawing-room was like taking a passage back in time. To a delicate taste though the dark paintings covering the walls, depicting scenes of sea gods and their prey (mostly dead), would have more historical than artistic value. The room, Mary Parker told Charlotte, had been laid out like that more than two-hundred years ago, and it had been decreed by the then Lady Denham that it had to remain unchanged – including the mosaic of a red snake covering the black floor.

"It's meant to serve as a reminder of how easily we fall into the traps of sinfulness," Mary said.

"That's a very out-dated view, isn't it?" Charlotte asked. At home in Willingden, they had no mosaic floor in the living room, but an IKEA rug. And one was more likely to walk into her younger siblings' scattered toys than into the traps of sinfulness.

"I'm so glad to see you, Charlotte," someone behind her said. It was Clara, looking rather lovely with freshly curled hair and a whiff of red lipstick to underline her pale complexion. Mary Parker moved on to other guests as the housekeeper took Charlotte's arm. "Stay close. That will attract him."

"Attract whom?" Charlotte asked, baffled.

"Edward Denham, of course." The golf instructor was on the other side of the room, talking to Babington and Crowe. These Denham cousins really were confounding.

"Why would you want to attract him?"

"Because she's out on a fishing mission," Esther said next to Charlotte. With the Beaufort girls miraculously recovered from their Friday illness, she had been able to join the lunch party instead of having to cover the reception desk.

"At least I'm not fishing with no bait," Clara said, her eyes narrowing, and then moving over to Mary and Diana Parker.

"Better stay away from her, Charlotte," Esther said, offering no further explanation. "Oh, look. Just another fisherman." Babington had come over to greet her.

"You're looking very well today, Esther." And she did indeed, dressed in green again, the best colour to complement her auburn hair. Yet she chose to ignore him, turning to Charlotte: "The wearisome thing about these events is the people you have to talk to, don't you agree?"

Babington took it with noble grace and an amiable smile. "I shan't be put off, you know."

"And I shall not be put on. – Have you seen the view of the park, Charlotte? Trees. Sky. Deer, if you're lucky."

Fortunately, Lady Denham now called everyone to go through to the dining room, and for Babington to escort her, and that put a preliminary end to more mysterious conversations.

The dining room turned out to be a replica of the drawing-room, with the paintings inspired by food rather than by dead animals. If there was another snake mosaic on the floor – or an apple, for that matter – it was invisible, covered by a long table that was laid out for a meal consisting of several courses. "Take your seats," Lady Denham said.

Charlotte eyed the starched napkins folded into fans, the confusing number of glasses at each place, and the mirror-like underplates with the Denham arms engraved in them. Never before had she sat down at such a magnificent table.

There was one drawback, of course. Just as Crowe (who according to his place card really seemed to go by no other name) took a seat on her left side, Sidney Parker moved in on her right. Insufferable man! She turned her head to the left, ready to engage Crowe in more social media talks when Sidney Parker said matter-of-factly: "So, Miss Heywood. Any observations on the assembled company?"

"You have no interest in my opinion, so I won't trouble you with it, Mr Parker," she told his place card.

"But I'm sure you have one." He even tried a smile. Not very convincing. "Come on, share it with me."

"Not for the world." What was wrong with that man? Quite simply, I don't care. Was he suffering from memory loss? "I've endured two tongue lashings from you, and I won't court a third. Save your unpleasantness for someone else. Or better still: Why not try to be civil?"

"Well said. Perhaps I shall."

"But please, not with me," she said and turned to Crowe. "Do you have any suggestions on how to improve the number of followers on our Instagram page?"

x

On the other side of the table, Sidney's brother was trying to convince his hostess and business partner of his latest scheme for attracting a new target group of guests. Sidney listened in, out of real interest and also because it was more agreeable than listening to Charlotte Heywood chatting merrily about the pitfalls of social media with his friend Crowe.

"The international cultural traveller," Tom said. "Come to Britain to enjoy our rich heritage and to dive deep into our history. Is there a better place to start such a tour of discovery than 1066 country?"

"But this isn't 1066 country," Diana observed.

"No, my dear, but it's next door." Tom was always the optimist. "I have a scheme to reap some of their profits. Sanditon – a vantage point of English history."

"We get on well as we are," Lady Denham said, looking more than ever like someone who had been around since 1066. "We have the sea and the beach and the golf course. We want the right kind of guests, Mr Parker. Spare me those nosy foreign tourists invading my garden because they cannot interpret the Keep Out signs."

"I rather agree, aunt," Edward Denham said. He seemed to be eager to join the conversation. Seated next to Gigi, he looked decidedly unhappy. Which was no surprise, Sidney thought, given the fact that there was probably no lady in the room more immune to his dubious charm than Georgiana Lambe. Speaking of charm: Charlotte Heywood was still happily discussing social media with Crowe, apparently having entirely forgotten her other neighbour.

"You would agree with me on anything, Edward, in the hope of remaining in my good graces," Lady Denham said. "If only your actions matched your words! - Now!" She looked around at her guests, probably in search of a new topic of conversation. And she found one.

"Miss Lambe! Georgiana, isn't it? – Born with a golden spoon in your mouth, like Edward. He keeps dawdling his life away as a golf instructor until I jump into the grave and he inherits all this. What are your plans?"

"I want to become a human rights lawyer," Gigi said. Sidney listened up. This was news to him.

"Oh," Lady Denham said. "You're one of those save-the-world-types, aren't you, Miss Lambe?"

"No, I'm not. I was only joking."

"Ah." It was just a short syllable, but Lady Denham managed to put a lot of displeasure into it. She certainly was not used to being the centre of jokes by a teenage girl – and at her own luncheon table! "So do you intend to do nothing? Spend your life in leisure and luxury?"

"I don't," Gigi said. "If I did, I might lose my head, come the revolution."

"So you're a champagne communist? Preach bread for the poor and have cake for yourself?" Lady Denham was growing visibly irritated.

"No. I just haven't decided yet. The only thing I know is that whatever career I choose, I'll have to be fifty per cent better than the rest."

"How's that? I'm sure your father will get you into the best universities…" First of all, we have to make sure she gets back into school, Sidney thought. But he was curious about where the conversation would be leading. Last time he checked, Gigi had wanted to open an art gallery to support young talents from minority backgrounds.

"I'll have to be ten per cent better than the rest because I'm a rich girl and everyone will believe I got to where I am with the help of my father's money," Gigi said. "And I'll have to be ten per cent better than the rest because I'm not a man."

"Oh, all you girls moaning about equality, and secretly craving a knight in shining armour!" Lady Denham sighed. Sidney sighed as well, but for other reasons. The last thing Georgiana Lambe was craving was a knight in shining armour. Gigi ignored them both.

"And I'll have to be twenty per cent better than the rest because I'm black." There was no comment from Lady Denham on that. In fact, all other conversations around the table had ceased. Even Charlotte Heywood had stopped discussing Instagram with Crowe: everyone was staring at Gigi now.

"I'm dying out of curiosity, Miss Lambe," Arthur said. "What is the final ten per cent for?"

"Well," Gigi said, looking once around the table until settling her gaze on Lady Denham with a surprisingly sweet smile. "That's of course for the fact that I am not only black, and a girl, but –"

"Thank you very much, Georgiana," Sidney interceded, having realised too late what Gigi was about to say. He would always describe himself as being tolerant, but he was not going to test that tolerance at Lady Denham's luncheon table. "We shall find a way to finish school first before discussing the challenges of the working world, shan't we?"

"You're not in school now?" Lady Denham asked.

"No," Gigi said, glaring at Sidney. "I got expelled."

"And how came that about? Did you try out the revolution with them?"

"No, I…" Gigi caught Sidney's warning gaze, and for once, she relented. "I didn't like school. We ain't suited."

"We ain't suited!" Arthur cried out, smacking his massive thighs. "Excellent, Miss Lambe! I wish I'd said that to my teachers only once! We ain't suited!" Lady Denham shot him a displeased if not murderous look. And she certainly was not finished with the young ladies around the table.

x

Charlotte had followed the exchange with some curiosity. What was it Sidney Parker had stopped Gigi Lambe from saying? Just another conundrum. Then she felt her hostess's gaze settle on her.

"And what do you think about the matter, Miss Heywood?" Lady Denham asked. "You are trying to make a career in the hotel industry – have you experienced the need to be better than your male colleagues because you're a woman? And unlike Miss Lambe not born with a golden spoon in your mouth?"

Charlotte chose her words carefully. "I don't believe in heritage, but in ability, Lady Denham. And I would very much like to believe that we are all being judged based on our abilities. But I have also seen prejudices prevail and that, if my opinion is not agreeable, I'm suddenly too young and too inexperienced to have one."

"As of course, you are," Lady Denham said.

"But how am I to learn and make my way if I don't speak out? If I never err, never misjudge? If I'm expected to be perfect the moment I venture out into the world? We are all entitled to missteps, whether we're born with a golden spoon or not." Charlotte slightly turned her head to the right. "Don't you agree, Mr Parker?"

Sidney swallowed hard on his mutton, shrugged his shoulders and reached for his water glass.

"No reply from Mr Parker," Lady Denham observed. "Might be as well. For you will have to make your way in the world, Miss Heywood. You will have to overcome the obstacle of being young and a woman, and from a place no-one has ever heard of, for there will be no shining knight for you, sweeping you off your feet, dancing with you into the sunset. In the real world, that knight will promise you eternal love and happiness, and then dump you for someone younger, or more attractive, or cheat on you with your best friend or your sister."

"What a bleak lookout that is, Lady Denham!" Mary Parker cried.

"Do you think? It's nothing but the truth."

"Still, you don't have to worry about me, Lady Denham," Charlotte said as if there was any probability that the old dragon would worry about her. "I shall be focussed on my career for the next few years."

"Indeed," the old lady said, raising her glass. "And that's what they all say until someone comes along and promises them a fairy tale. – To your shining knights!"

Notes:

The next chapter's title is "The Seagull and the Serpent", and it introduces two characters of some importance to the story: a seagull and a serpent (mark my words!).