'It's…certainly a statement piece.'
Bernie chuckled. 'Quite.'
A finely worked double strand gold necklace.
'So not your style.'
'I'll say.'
'Have you actually ever worn it?'
'A few times. For my 18th and 21st birthday parties. To the poshest of hospital functions with Marcus. I think he liked it more than I did. Said it made me look refined, like a lady.'
'Was he trying to make you Eliza Doolittle?'
Bernie smiled.
'My great grandmother gave it to me.'
Serena put it down as fast and as gently as she could.
'It won't break that easily; it's made of stern stuff' Bernie laughed.
'Much like your great grandmother.' Serena pictured that formidable woman in the photo.
'I wish I could have known her better although that would have been near on impossible since she was 98. She died when I was 3. She left it to me in her will.'
'Wow.'
'I've left it for Charlotte if she wants it. One day it'll come into fashion again.'
Serena picked up a piece of it again and in her fanciful mind, thought she could feel a slight thrum running through it, as if Eleanor Bramwell was present. She liked to think that she was.