Confessions
"There you are, Sidney! Everyone's looking for you. You've got a visitor." Diana held her hand out to Henry. "Come on, young man. Uncle Arthur has made Sticky Toffee Chocolate Lollypops for you and your sisters." Henry placed a wet kiss on Sidney's cheek and hopped off the bench.
"Who is the visitor?" Sidney asked. Diana smiled and shrugged her shoulders.
"See for yourself. But have a look in the mirror first."
Charlotte, he thought as he stood in front of the gym's washbasin, shoving cold water into his face and trying to remove Henry's snot from his shirt. Please, Lord, let it be Charlotte, come to save them all from Roboflex Monster Toy Figures, purple Christmas trees and the tragedy that tonight's Annual Sanditon Christmas Ball was bound to become.
Then he remembered that he was actually not a very religious person and that he had not done much to endear himself to the Lord in recent months. Also, as much as he would have loved to simply see her, a confrontation of Charlotte and Eliza at this stage was unlikely to change anything for the better.
It was not Charlotte, anyway. It was Gigi's father: George Lambe, standing in the middle of the lobby, suntanned and relaxed, sporting a white beard, squinting from behind thick lenses and greeting Sidney with open arms. "My dear boy! Don't look at me as if I was Father Christmas – it's still me."
"I… didn't expect to see you," Sidney admitted. "I thought you'd… still be sailing the seas." Since putting Gigi on a flight to Antigua a few days after Charlotte's departure, he had not heard much from his former mentor. There were some legal matters to discuss, but that was it. Gigi had stopped any communication with him the moment she realised that Charlotte was gone. After the summer holidays, she had not returned to school in England but continued to sail the world with her father and Number Three. Family healing, her father had called it in one of their few phone conversations. Sidney had not been too sorry to see himself relieved of foster-father-duties.
"We had to come home at some stage," George Lambe said. "Gigi will have to attend Otis's trial in January. She kept pestering Mrs Lambe and me about the Sanditon balls, so I said to myself: why not pay Sidney a surprise visit and treat my two ladies to a Christmas holiday at the Sanditon Grand."
"Indeed, why not," Sidney mumbled. "Where are Gigi and, err, Mrs Lambe?"
George gave a hearty laugh. "I know Gigi calls them by numbers. But incidentally, she's getting on quite well with Number Three. Had no other choice after five months in a boat. – They are up in their rooms, settling in." Sidney could not help but be amazed. Gigi, going on well with a new stepmother? Was she finally growing up? Or was George growing up, at least when it came to the choice of his wives? "I wanted to have a little chat with you first, my boy," his friend said. "Maybe in a less public place than the lobby?" For the first time in months, Sidney felt real hope. This was so unexpected – a genuine Christmas surprise. However, if he wanted to interest his mentor in an investment, he would have to play it delicately and with open cards.
"Let's go to the bar." The bar was officially closed at this hour, but with the bustle of the Christmas lunch in the Conservatory next door, it was the quietest place to find in the hotel. George Lambe settled down in an ancient leather armchair, looking more like Father Christmas than ever before. "Now tell me, Sidney," he said. "What exactly is going on here?"
"What do you mean?" Sidney asked, taking a seat facing him.
"I may be half-blind, but some things I see very clearly. Why is your Christmas decoration sponsored by a company for sanitary products, why did the girl at reception try to sell a handbag to Mrs Lambe on check-in, and why, why for God's sake, is the woman who wrecked your life eight years ago now in charge of everything?"
"The receptionists get a commission for every handbag they sell," Sidney explained. "The sponsor is Eliza's cooperation partner, so they just extended the partnership." That was the easy part. The rest was a long story, even though he restricted his tale to the details concerning Tom, his financial status, Regency Row and the search for a new investor after the fire.
He made sure never to mention Charlotte. However much she was part of the story, the core of the problem was their financial troubles and not the fact that he had fallen in love with Charlotte Heywood. George Lambe was a businessman, not a matchmaker: If he offered to get involved in the hotel, it would be for the perspective of the potential monetary profit, not for resolving a romance. Sidney had seen him take these decisions often enough: a good investment should be based on mutual understanding and expected financial profit. In the finance world, Charlotte was nothing but collateral damage, even though any insider realised that during her short stay, she had indeed become the heart of the Sanditon Grand Hotel.
However, after five months on a boat with Gigi, George Lambe certainly knew everything there was to know about Charlotte, including Sidney's anything but shining role in the story.
"So essentially," George said a few seconds after Sidney had finished detailing the hotel's current financial status, "you have sold yourself to that woman and her TV project."
"That's certainly one way to look at it." He could not meet his mentor's eye.
"But why?"
"As I told you. My family would have lost the hotel and their home."
"I've never known you to have such an altruistic nature, Sidney. Which part am I missing?" Sidney sighed. The man might be half-blind without his thick spectacles, yet his vision was surprisingly clear.
"Maybe I've changed, George. It's a family business. The Parkers have been at the heart of Sanditon for two-hundred years. You never want to be the generation that ruins such a tradition."
George thought about this for a moment. "Then why did you not come to me?" he finally asked.
"You were sailing the Pacific Ocean with your new wife. Even if I had managed to get hold of you, what was I supposed to say? My brother is the worst hotel manager in the world, so can you please chip in with seven million pounds? – Not very convincing. Not after everything you've taught for me."
"You have a point, Sidney. I might have taken it for a joke and finished the conversation." He laughed, making Sidney's heart sink. Then he turned serious again. "However, you went out all alone and took the whole world on your shoulders, and now you're wondering why you're feeling crushed?"
"It was not only about an investment. There's also the mess I made of looking after Gigi," Sidney conceded, looking down at his hands.
"Yes," George said. "I'll admit that was not your finest hour, my boy. But I believe the one person truly to blame for Gigi's misery is sitting in front of you." He lifted his hand when Sidney started to contradict him. "I'm her father. I exposed her to one stepmother after another, and I was not too picky when it came to those stepmothers, as long as they did not remind me of her mother, because that would have been too hurtful." Sidney nodded. He had never met the very first Mrs Lambe, but he knew that theirs had been a whirlwind romance of two completely opposite mindsets: one of Britain's top players in the financial sector, and an African-American human rights activist. A romance that ended in tragedy when Mrs Lambe died of breast cancer when Gigi was only three years old.
"I never offered Gigi a proper home," her father now said. "I dumped her in a boarding school as soon as she was old enough, just to make sure I was not bothered with her education. I decided to go on a sailing trip around the world. I abdicated responsibility and left my only child in the care of a young man hardly qualified to act as a surrogate father for a teenage girl." Sidney did not know what to say. He had never heard his mentor speaks so openly about his failures as a father. George took off his glasses and wiped them thoroughly before going on: "These past five months with Gigi on the yacht have been anything but plain sailing. I was tempted to throw her into the ocean more than once, especially when there were sharks around. She threatened to do the same with me. And with Mrs Lambe. She loves a bit of a drama." He smiled ruefully. "And then again, she's such a fighter, so stubborn, and sometimes, she so much reminds me of her mother that I cannot bear to have her around me because it makes the loss feel so fresh. - No matter what actually happened with Otis, it is not your fault, Sidney. I was a better mentor to you than I was a father to Gigi, and in the end, you were nothing but the guardian of my own failures."
Sidney swallowed hard and shifted uncomfortably in his chair. Liberating as it was to receive this absolution, the worst part still lay ahead of him. And he had to go through with it if he ever wanted to meet his mentor's eyes again. He could not ask for his money and yet, keep the worst hidden from him. He thought of Charlotte, looking at him in this way that made him want to tell her everything - the good, the bad, and the very evil. "There's something else," he said.
"Is there?"
"Yes." There was no turning back now. For a second, he saw Charlotte's face again, her eyes dark and serious. "Two years ago, when you invited me to Antigua to join your family on the yacht, I began an affair with Marissa."
There it was, out in the open. Sidney automatically ducked, in case his mentor started hurling the bar menu at him. But George did not do anything. He just kept staring at Sidney, which was even more disconcerting because behind the thick lenses and in the dim light of the bar, it was impossible to make out his eyes.
"Does Gigi know about this?" he asked after half an eternity.
"Yes."
"How?"
"She… she must have seen us, I'm afraid." Sidney kept George's gaze.
"Did she use it against you?"
"She tried to when I forbade her any contact to Otis. – But I thought I'd rather run the risk of losing your friendship than have Gigi under the spell of that woman."
"So you're at least a man of some principle, Sidney Parker."
"I'm not sure I can say that right now," he admitted. For a good while, George stared beyond him at the whiskey bottles lining the bar.
"I am disappointed in you, Sidney," he finally said. "Deeply disappointed. Can't deny it, even though I did have a suspicion. It was too much of a cliché not to be true: the sugar daddy's bored wife and his handsome protégé."
"I'm so sorry, George," Sidney said, holding his head down. And he was. Sorry and ashamed.
"Our marriage was close to over even before you stepped on board. But that's not an excuse.– How did it end?"
"We met again once in a hotel in London, but… it wasn't the same. Not without the scenery and… and the thrill of being caught in the act."
"It is a blow, but I'm relieved that you told me. I don't want to have any secrets standing between us, Sidney."
"Right," Sidney said, and strangely enough, ashamed as he was, he felt relieved as well.
"You have given me quite a lot to think about," At least, George did not punch him or leave the hotel immediately.
"I wish I could be less of a disappointment to you."
"Ask my ex-wives about who is a disappointment." He gave Sidney a sad grin. "We are all prone to failures and mistakes. If we are lucky, we can pretend they never happened. If we are unlucky, we'll have to bear the consequences, learn from them and make amends next time. – Now I'll…"
"Excuse me, Mr Parker?" Julia Beaufort came into the bar, nervously biting her lip. "Could you come to the Denham Suite? Mrs Campion is asking for you."
There we go again, Sidney thought, preparing himself for another appearance on Eliza TV. George hoisted himself up from his leather chair.
"I don't want to keep you from your duties." Was there a slight note of irony in his tone? Sidney could not say. "You've given me quite a bit to think about," George added. And we have not even come close to speaking about what is truly on my mind, Sidney realised. But this was only the prelude.
"Give my regards to Gigi and Mrs Lambe. I'm looking forward to seeing them at the ball," he said, wondering what he had achieved – whether he had achieved anything at all.
For once, there were no camera people around in the Denham Suite. Which meant that this was not a TV-compatible crisis, but a real crisis. "Eliza?" Sidney knocked on the door of the master bedroom.
She was not alone. By her side were her stylist, clutching her white ball gown for the evening, and Kamila, showing a complete poker face while wielding a spray bottle of something potentially very poisonous. "What's going on?" he asked.
"Ask your nieces!" Eliza cried, pointing at Jenny and Alicia. They were standing together in the corner of the room, looking very innocent and very sweet, munching happily on the remains of Arthur's Sticky Toffee Chocolate Lollypops.
"Jenny?" he said. "Alicia?"
"It was an accident," Jenny said. "I just wanted to take a look at Mrs Campion's pretty white ball gown." Alicia nodded eagerly, showing her chocolate tongue as she was licking her lollypop.
"Kamala says she can't fix it," Eliza cried.
Kamila shrugged her shoulders, keeping her poker face. "It will have to be sent to the dry cleaners. – But they are closed today," she added. The stylist moved forward to show Sidney the evidence. It was undeniable, there was an ugly chocolate-coloured smear on the lower back of the white dress.
"Jenny," he said. "Apologise to Eliza."
"No, I won't." Jenny folded her arms in front of her breast.
"Jenny Parker!"
"It's all ruined," Eliza sniffed. "What am I to wear tonight?"
"You can stay at home," Jenny suggested. Alicia giggled. Kamila's poker face twitched.
"Jenny, come with me." Sidney marched his niece out of the room and over to the lounge area of the Denham Suite. He made her sit down on the sofa and took a seat on a chair in front of her.
"You will apologise to Eliza," he said.
"Why should I?"
"Because you ruined her dress? Because of what you just said?"
"Very well." Jenny folded her arms in front of her again. "I'll apologise to her when she apologises to you." Sidney furrowed his brow.
"Why should Eliza apologise to me?"
"Because she made Charlotte go away." She looked straight at him, her gaze very serious and clear. He gasped.
"Jenny…"
"I know that you liked her, Uncle Sidney. I've seen you watching her when we built the sandcastle on the beach." Sidney shook his head, remembering that lovely afternoon. How he had been meditating on how pleasing it was to watch a beautiful young woman in beach shorts build a sandcastle. If only… ah, well. Enough of the ifs. Time for action.
"The thing is, Jenny, Charlotte will not come back simply because you start ruining Eliza's dresses."
"I know, but…" Now there was a slight shimmer in her eyes, her courage waning away. There was something very endearing about her demeanour. Clearly and in not too many years, she would be another young lady walking out into the world with her head held high, fighting for what she believed was right. Sidney moved a little closer and took her hands, searching her gaze.
"Apologise to her, Jenny. For my sake. That will give me a little peace, and time to think about what we can do to make Charlotte come back to Sanditon." She had to think this through. He saw the emotions work on her little face as she was balancing her loyalty towards Charlotte against her feelings for Eliza. It made him smile in a way he only understood when he realised that this was a rare thing to see these days at the Sanditon Grand Hotel: real emotions, not perverted in front of a camera.
"Alright," Jenny finally said. "I'll apologise to Mrs Party Pooper. But I'll keep my fingers crossed behind my back." Sidney pressed her hand with a smile. There were some details he was willing to overlook.
Notes:
In case you are missing her: The next chapter will bring news about Charlotte.
