Well, I said at the beginning of the previous chapter that we were bound for trouble, and here we are: ready to meet trouble itself. This chapter also comes with a major character twist. Two, come to think of it.
The Final Ten Percent
Charlotte picked up the picnic basket and tried not to stare at the two women holding each other in a tight embrace, oblivious to the world around them. To say that she felt embarrassed was an understatement. To say that she felt outsmarted by Gigi was another one.
Would you keep an eye on Gigi for me while I'm in Australia? See that she is kept out of mischief? she heard Sidney Parker say. Now here she was, right in the middle of apparent mischief, and all she could think of was Wi$**,'''''. She stepped closer and gave a distinct cough. "Hello?"
Gigi drew away from the other woman, a model-like beauty in her mid twenties. Gigi kept holding her hand. "This is Charlotte Heywood, my only friend and ally in this dreadful place. – And this is Otis."
"Otis-?" Charlotte asked, holding out her hand.
"Only Otis. It's a stage name." The woman had a good handshake and a full and pleasant voice with an American accent. "I'm an artist."
"I see."
"Is she not the most beautiful human being you have ever seen?" Gigi asked, melting against her lover.
"Forgive her," Otis said with an indulgent smile. "Her opinion of me is completely biased. You better ignore everything she's told you about me."
"As a matter of fact, she hasn't told me anything," Charlotte said, feeling annoyed, prim, and tricked all at the same time. "Until a moment ago, I did not even know about your existence."
"I'm sorry, Charlotte," Gigi said. "I had such trouble arranging this, and I couldn't take any risk." She looked at Otis, then at Charlotte again. "The truth is that we are not allowed to see each other."
"But we are not in a Victorian novel! Who would put up such boundaries?"
"My horrible foster father, who else?"
"Sidney?" Charlotte repeated in disbelief.
"Do you know of another one?" Gigi grabbed Otis's hand. "Come on. There is supposed to be a bluebell copse beyond the river bend. That's just the perfect spot for our picnic."
"Thank you for taking care of Gigi, Charlotte," Otis said. "I'm taking over now."
"What? No. I promised…" Gigi stopped in her tracks.
"You promised what?" Charlotte felt the colour rise to her cheeks.
"I promised Sidney to keep an eye on you while he's in Australia. Keep you out of mischief."
"So you're his spy?" The disappointment in Gigi's voice was evident. "Is he paying you well? For money is the only emotion Sidney Parker knows."
"Nonsense, Gigi, I'm not taking money from anyone. He… I… look, everyone is wondering why you had to leave school, why you're stuck here, watched by Mrs Griffiths, why he's taken your phone and cancelled your credit cards. I believed you were in real danger – false friends, or drugs, or whatever. - I had no idea this was about… love?"
"What else would it be about?" Otis asked, stepping forward. "It's always about love. Some people just can't bear to see others happy."
Charlotte ignored her. "Gigi, don't you think it's time to come out with the whole story?"
"There is no story." Gigi clasped Otis hand, smiling at her adoringly. "We met. We fell in love. Sidney Parker went mad."
Charlotte tried to digest and classify this information. Sidney Parker had a temper and easily went mad. No-one knew that better than herself. He was prejudiced and never held back when he believed to be in the right. Yet, the man she had met after Doktor Fuchs's visit was entirely different. That man had been appreciative of her, even humble at times, and endearing with the kids. There had to be more to the story.
"Why exactly would he go mad?" she asked.
"Are you that blind and naïve?" Otis asked. "Gigi is seventeen; I'm twenty-seven. She's a millionaire's daughter, I'm… scrambling by as an artist. And worst of all: she's a woman. I'm a woman." There it was, the final ten per cent. It was what Sidney had stopped Gigi from saying at Lady Denham's luncheon table.
"I can't believe Sidney to be so… so petty. Old-fashioned. Narrow-minded," Charlotte thought out loud.
"And yet he is," Gigi said. "Are you really going to deprive me of the best afternoon since I've come to Sanditon, Charlotte?"
"Yes… no." She felt utterly overwhelmed. "But I'm not going to leave you two alone together." Otis rolled her eyes.
"You've read too many Victorian novels, Charlotte. I'm not going to kidnap her, you know."
"Very well," Charlotte said, holding her head high. "Then there is no reason for you to be afraid of me joining you."
They walked over to the bluebell copse, Otis and Gigi hand in hand, Charlotte a few steps behind, carrying the picnic basket. Never had she felt so out of place. Never had a bluebell field looked so dreary, never had a Strawberry Secret tasted so dull. She had absolutely no idea of what to make of the situation. Undoubtedly, large chunks of the story were still missing. Why had Gigi been expelled? Why had Sidney taken her phone, cutting her off from any contact to the outside world?
While Gigi and Otis fed each other grapes and biscuits and bites of sandwiches, sharing giggles and kisses in between, Charlotte sat a little aside, half turning her back on them, desperately typing into her phone.
Mr Sidney Parker: Wi$**,'''''
Charlotte Heywood: I think I've messed up.
No.
Charlotte Heywood: Sydney, we are having a problem.
No.
Charlotte Heywood: Hello Mr Parker, can you please contact me asap? Thanks. CH
Maybe. But it was still the middle of the night in Sydney. Chances were that he was fast asleep, or that she would wake him up and have to deal with the ill-tempered, grumbling brute she had met on the balcony. And then, what was she to do? Call the police? Throw Otis into the river? Fasten Gigi to the rack of her bike and pedal her home?
"Are you telling him?" Gigi was looking over to her.
"No, I'm not." Charlotte tucked the phone away. "And even if I did, what could he do? He's on the other side of the world."
"Never underestimate the power of money," Otis said. "He made sure I lost my job when he found out about us. And then he made sure I would not find another one by smearing my name."
"Why would he do that?" With all his flaws, Sidney had never struck Charlotte as revengeful.
"Otis told you," Gigi said. "He doesn't bear to see other people happy and in love unless it's his silly brother and that poor wife of his. I told you I've known him since I was ten, and in all those years, I've only ever seen him care about the money he makes and that stupid car he drives. You cannot trust a single word he says."
"Why would you say that?"
"Because I know. I have proof."
"Then tell me." Charlotte sounded more grown-up than she was actually feeling like. Gigi took a deep breath.
"Two years ago, Daddy invited him to spend his summer holidays with us on the yacht in the Caribbean. And Number Two, who makes Number One and Number Three look like astrophysicists when it comes to intelligence, Number Two, that singular brain cell, fell for the great Sidney Parker the moment he stepped on board."
There was so much disdain now in Gigi's face that Charlotte felt the Strawberry Secret go sour in her stomach. "And if you think he acted like a gentleman, and that he chivalrously rejected her advances, you are wrong, Charlotte Heywood. They did it. Right there on the boat. On the beach. In the water. God knows where else."
Charlotte was feeling sick now. "Did… did your father know?"
Gigi shook her head. "Ironically, Daddy is terribly short-sighted. In every sense of the word. Doesn't see what is right under his nose. – But I knew. I caught them in the act."
"And still…" Charlotte had to work this through. "Still, your father made Sidney your… your foster father?"
"As I said, he has no idea of what is going on right under his nose. And even if he had, he probably would not have minded that much. Number Two as on the way out even before that holiday. They never last longer than a couple of years."
"And does he… does Sidney know that you know?"
Gigi grinned. "Well, he didn't know when he accepted to be my foster father. But now he does. And if you're still asking yourself why he has confiscated my phone and cancelled my credit cards, there you have your answer. He's trying to gag me."
"But…" Charlotte tried to bring these new facts in unison with what she had seen that afternoon after Doktor Fuchs's visit.
Sidney Parker, allowing little Henry to rub his snotty nose on his t-shirt. Sidney Parker, offering her his Strawberry Secret. Sidney Parker, making sure she got credit for the idea of the open-day. Sidney Parker, calling her Admiral Heywood.
Sidney Parker… she wished there was a more elegant expression for it, but there certainly was not: shagging his mentor's wife under his mentor's nose on his mentor's boat with his mentor's teenage daughter on board.
The man was even more disgusting than Edward Denham.
x
Normally, a fully reclining business class seat, a set of headphones plus a good supply of Chivas Regal did the trick for Sidney on long-haul flights.
Not this time.
His worries kept him awake: Gigi's father, still somewhere out on the Pacific, unaware of his daughter's antics. Gigi, her wild threats and misguided passions. Tom and his never-ending financial troubles. Gussie Griffiths, who in their video-calls claimed that Gigi was doing well, but even from around the other side of the world looked strained. Arthur, who according to Mary, had missed yet another appointment for having his blood sample taken. Babington, who had never worked out the principle of time-zones and called him at three o'clock in the night to tell him with a slurring voice that Esther Denham was a haughty bitch and the most fascinating woman he had ever met. mrscampion, who had put a comment on the post announcing the Sanditon Grand Hotel's open-day: Hope I'll be welcome – to which someone, probably Charlotte Heywood, had answered in all innocence: Of course! And you'll get a meringue swan for free – plus lots of fun
Well, Charlotte Heywood. That was a different chapter. Nothing to worry about there, though.
After the family beach walk, Mary had sent him a picture, with a short "Thought you might like this". Whenever he looked at it, he realised that he did like it indeed: It showed them walking across the mudflats, deep in conversation with each other, unaware of the photographer and glowing in the strange orange light of that evening.
Looking at Charlotte and himself in that picture had a singularly calming effect on him, especially when he had to spend another ten hours long working day with figuring out how his client's future ex-wife would get as little as possible of their joint fortune (which was a decidedly unromantic task). Looking at that picture made him scroll down his contact list down to D for Dimple. Then he would start typing messages:
Good morning England.
Hi. How are Gigi and my Admiral Heywood? (no)
Hi. How are Gigi and Admiral Heywood? (still not good)
Hope Tom and the open-day don't keep you too busy.
But he never sent them. It was early evening in England. What would she be thinking of him? That he was sleepless in Sydney?
Instead, he thought that he should really change Dimple to Charlotte Heywood before he returned home because if Crowe ever found out about it, there would be no end to his teasing.
And now he was returning home, two days earlier than expected and hopefully a pleasant surprise for his family and everyone else. Though terribly overtired and jetlagged. While queuing for immigration at Heathrow, it came to his mind to warn his brother, just to make sure that he had a bed ready for him at the hotel. And yes, he would happily return to the attic room. Then he scrolled up to D like Dimple and started typing: Will be down in Sanditon in about two hours, hope all's well with Gigi, but he had only managed the first two letters when an official voice barked "Next!", and he stumbled over his laptop case, his feet and his tiredness and dropped the phone on the ground.
Sidney cursed, which was no good considering he was standing in front of a British immigration officer. It made the immigration officer check his passport twice and send him straight over to his colleagues from customs.
Once released, he bought a ridiculously priced coffee from a stall in the arrival lounge and checked the spider app on his phone (nasty case of spider app, with the centre directly on the message button). Maybe he should just grab a taxi and fall asleep in his London bed, but… Sanditon. Sanditon. Tom. Mary. The kids. Arthur and Diana. Gigi.
Charlotte Heywood believed that they needed him, and he was not going to disappoint them again. Or Charlotte Heywood. He wanted to prove to her that he was a better man than she thought. So he walked over to the next rental car company, hired a nice flashy Porsche (nothing compared to the Aston Martin, but better than a Vauxhall), and wound his way through the airport traffic until he was finally on the way south, towards the coast.
It was a fine, sunny early summer afternoon, not too hot yet, just agreeable enough to open the Porsche's roof and let the sea breeze ruffle his hair. Sidney breathed saltwater and wet seaweed: the smells of home. When he passed the sign saying "Welcome to Sanditon, home to sea-bathing", he for once did not feel frustration, but positive tension.
Things were going to remain challenging, with the hotel, with Tom, with Gigi, but he was no longer alone in his fight for their well-being. There was a fierce little Admiral by his side now. Miss Heywood. Charlotte. There was no reason to continue that formal Miss-Heywood-Mr-Parker-nonsense any longer. In fact, he was quite looking forward to calling her by her first name… He had to brake sharply in front to the station building, causing the driver behind him to sound the horn – and sound the horn once more when he parked the Porsche on the station's disabled parking space.
Sidney did not care. A whole army of Constables Hankins chasing him would not have made him care. He only cared about the beautiful woman he saw standing in front of the Victorian station building. What was Otis doing here?
As he came closer and she caught his eye, he stopped dead in his tracks. There were two other women, waiting in the shadow of the bike shed, not seeing him.
"Yes, the great Sidney Parker," he heard Charlotte Heywood say. "The financial genius with tons of oh-so-important friends. One does wonder though: What is he trying to compensate with that silly old car?"
x
"Stop it, Charlotte," Otis quietly said, moving her head meaningfully.
"No, do go on, Miss Heywood," a deep voice behind Charlotte asked. "I'm intrigued to know what you believe I am compensating for with that silly old car."
There was no black hole opening up on Sanditon's station square, ready to swallow her. There was no giant sea serpent reaching out to her, grabbing her and pulling her down into the waves of the English Channel. She did not die on the spot either, though her heartbeat was quickening dangerously.
Charlotte just stood where she was. After what seemed half an eternity, she turned in slow motion.
Sidney Parker was right behind her, unshaven, uncombed, with heavy rings under his bloodshot eyes, wearing a wrinkled shirt that must have seen happier days as well. But he was not staring at her. He was staring at Otis.
"Miss Molyneux," Charlotte heard him say with a voice that came right out of the deep freezer. "You are the very last person I hoped to find in Sanditon."
Otis was not going to be intimidated. With a shrug of her shoulder, she said: "Sorry, Sid. Next time I visit, I'll let you know."
"There will be no next time. Get on the train and never come back."
"Sidney!" Gigi cried, hanging from his arm. Sidney shook her off as if she was an annoying insect.
"Get on the train, Miss Molyneux. Now. Or be sure I'll call the police."
Otis's mouth was twitching. "That's all you can do, right? Bully and threaten."
"You know I've got the law on my side. If I ever find you alone with Gigi again, I shall not be responsible for my actions. Have I made myself clear?"
Charlotte expected Otis and Gigi to protest, to call him out, to condemn his monstrosity, but to her surprise, the only thing they did was exchange a meaningful look. Then Otis caved in, blew Gigi a kiss and walked into the station building.
"You could at least allow them a proper parting!" Charlotte cried, watching her friend's lover disappear. Sidney spun around.
"Thank you, Miss Heywood. That's none of your business. – Gigi, my car's the Porsche over there. Get in and wait for me, and if you don't, be sure that you'll have half of the British police on your heels within ten minutes." Gigi stalked away, head and shoulders held high. Charlotte could guess that she was desperately fighting the tears but that she also knew, as any good warrior, when it was wise to concede a momentary defeat. Then she felt Sidney's gaze upon her.
"Did we not agree you would look out for her?" he said, looking down on her, his dark eyes full of contempt. Oh, how it hurt. "I should have known you were not to be trusted."
"And I should have known that despite all your kind words, you don't care at all about her happiness."
"Don't judge a situation you do not understand, Miss Heywood."
"I understand perfectly well, Mr Parker!"
"Yes," Sidney said, seemingly growing even taller. Or was she shrinking under his angry gaze? "Of course you do. After knowing Gigi what… three weeks? And that woman a couple of hours."
"That was enough time to understand that she's a fine person who cares very much for Gigi." Though, if one was perfectly honest, it was not enough time to understand that Otis also went by the name of Miss Molyneux.
Sidney shook his head. "You seem to find it impossible to distinguish between the truth and your own opinion, Miss Heywood."
That undid her.
"The truth?" she cried. "You wish to speak of the truth, Mr Parker? The truth is that you are so full of yourself that you can't accept to see two people stand up to you because they won't share your concept of a superficial lifestyle revolving around flashy cars and fast money."
"You speak out of turn." Something was changing in his face, but Charlotte did not care. She had held back long enough. All her anger about new babysitter and I don't think of you at all, all her frustration about the silence of the last days, all her disappointment about Gigi's revelations on Sidney's love life came out with her next words.
"Why should I expect anything better from a man so depraved that he doesn't keep his hands off his friend's wife?"
"That is enough!"
She had gone too far. Charlotte knew it the moment the words were out of her mouth.
He was breathing heavily, his face a mask of fury, and for a second, she thought he would strike her down. Then he shook his head in disdain. "I have no need to justify myself to the likes of you, Miss Heywood," he simply said and walked away to his car.
Charlotte remained where she was, petrified and expecting her head to explode. The tears did not come. The Porsche left the parking space with a wild roar. People started staring at her.
Where had all this gone wrong?
This morning, cuddled up in her bed and watched by the old herring gull, she had re-read the poem and thought about the distant country she longed to explore. One picnic and a few hours later, that country lay desolated and in ruins, and she had a distinct feeling that she would never travel there.
