Bella stood there, mouth opening and closing and saying nothing. Lori slid her arm into mine and stared interestedly at Bella, a little like a scientist watching a three-legged chicken. Bella tried to stare her down, but Lori could face a charging rhino with a slightly raised eyebrow, and Bella soon looked away in confusion.
I’d had enough by now; after the fun the previous night, and the shock of seeing ourselves plastered all over the tabloids this morning, the last thing I wanted for Lori right now was for her to be exposed to this poisonous old baggage, so I pointed at the gate, barring her way in case she tried to speak to Lori or stand her ground.
“I asked you to leave, Bella, now I’m telling you; get out, and don’t come back; you have no business here, nothing here belongs to you, and I don’t want you on my property again; if I see or hear of you coming here again, I’ll have you arrested for trespass.”
Lori looked at me with that raised eyebrow, and I knew I’d be in for some questions once the old bag had done a bunk, but for now she stood silently, her arm around my waist as we watched Bella stump back up the lane to where Maude and her repellent daughters waited in their car, barred by a Court Order from approaching the house. Don’t get me wrong; if she’d been the slightest bit less aggressive and self-entitled I’d have had Jimmy take her home, but she tried to beard me in my den, insulted my wife, and tried to force her way into my property, so as far as I was concerned, she could walk or crawl; I was done with her.
After she climbed into the car, it backed away up the lane until it came to the main road, turned, and was gone. Lori turned to look at me, her expression not happy at all.
“David, that was an old lady; did you really have to be so rude to her? I really thought you were better than that! That was a shameful display, I hope you’re pleased with yourself!”
She disengaged from my waist and stalked off inside the house, walking past Rosie and Jimmy as they waited inside the vestibule. I watched her in dismay, wondering just what I’d done to annoy her so deeply; whatever it was, I knew I had to clear the air quickly; it was never a good idea to let her simmer like that. I followed her into the house, Rosie patting me on the arm as I hurried past her; she’d seen the look on Lori’s face and knew that something had offended her. I found her in the study, looking at the painting of my parents, studying mother’s features intently. She turned as I came in, her features relaxed, but that slight narrowing of her eyes belying her calm appearance.
She turned back to once again study the painting, and reached up to touch it gently.
“So tell me David, what was all that about?”
David again; she really was mad at me. I thought quickly, and decided that she might as well hear the whole story.
“Lori, I’m sorry you had to see that; I wasn’t going to pop at her, I just don’t like having her around me, especially as she came here solely to intimidate and bully; Bella is a nasty, bitter, devious and deceitful person. Mother told me all about her before I left, to put me on my guard, and the trustees filled in a lot of the blanks, because mother knew I’d have to do something about this place one day, and deal with the various family members who think they have an axe to grind with us. She showed me the letters and documents Bella tried to foist on the trustees; she even tried to claim that my father was illegitimate, and that her husband was the rightful heir to this ramshackle crypt you see around you; I don’t care so much about that, if she wants this place she can have it, it’s one less headache for us, believe me!”
Lori grinned faintly at that; good, she was thawing! I continued with my explanation of the convoluted history between my immediate family and Bella the Bitch.
“What she also did though, the thing that pissed-off the family with her, was to forge a whole bunch of letters purporting to be from mother to her lover, my supposed real father, claiming that I wasn’t a real Denham, that I was illegitimate too. The trustees investigated, and discovered fairly quickly that the letters were forgeries, and were preparing to have her arrested for attempted fraud; apparently, with me discredited, she could go about claiming the trust funds, or a portion of them, as one of father’s heirs; mother stopped them, because she took pity on that hatchet-faced madwoman, but the problem with feeling sorry for someone like Bella is they take it as a sign of weakness.”
I paused for breath, and noted that Lori was looking less hostile and more relaxed, so I continued.
“Apparently, when mother married Charlie, Bella was incensed; she started claiming that Charlie had married mother to get his hands on my inheritance, this apparently in spite of the fact she was trying to prove I was illegitimate. Bella wants all the Denham legacy for herself, so she can live like the Dowager Duchess of Kiss-My-Arse. She’s bonkers, but not in an “olde-worlde, sweetly eccentric old aunt who keeps cats” sort of way; no, she’s malicious, just stupid enough to be dangerous, and she’ll stop at nothing; she even tried to claim Rosie wasn’t Uncle Jerry’s daughter, that Sybil had an affair with a gardener or some such rubbish; this is her own granddaughter, she was actually prepared to disinherit her only grandchild to get her claws on whatever properties Uncle Jerry and Aunt Sybil have. I can show you the letters if you like, they’re all in the bureau in the sitting room.”
I paused, watching the expression on Lori’s face, in her eyes, as the whole loony story of Bella’s schemes unreeled.
“She came here today to assert her “rights”, whatever she thinks they are, and to insult and bully us. I’m not having it; if she wants to pop at me, she’s welcome; I consider her more than marginally insane, but when she tries to intimidate and look down her nose at you, that’s where I draw the line. She came here to assert herself as head of the family, whatever that means, and to give us a tongue-lashing, she got one instead, and one she won’t forget in a hurry, either. Look at how she spoke to Rosie; do you really want someone like that cosying up to us and our baby? As far as I’m concerned, if there is a ‘Head’ of the family, it’s Uncle Richard, not her; him I’ll listen to; Bella can go take a running jump.”
By now, Lori was grinning as I finished telling her of the tricks Bella had tried to get her hands on this dump, and she reached out to poke me gently on the chin.
“OK, point taken, she deserved what she got; I just never want to see that side of David Denham ever again; my Doctor Man is a sweet, gentle man, and he was a sweet, gentle boy, I like having him around!”
I smiled happily.
“Now you know why Richard and Sophie avoid them like the plague! Maude’s no better, just more stupid; in fact, I’m tempted to chuck the keys for this hellhole into the duck pond and let the two of them mud-wrestle for possession; whoever drowns the other, they get to keep Denham Hall; it’s a win-win for me; I get rid of this bloody albatross around our necks forever, and at least one of those old Harpies as a bonus; where’s the down-side?”
Lori pealed out laughing, and stepped closer to hug me.
“Maybe we should sell tickets, it could be a major local attraction!”
I grinned back at her.
“Not likely! You’ve seen Bella, thankfully you’ve not met Maude; she’s got a face that would stop a clock; mother once said she’s got a face like a bulldog sucking a wasp, and I’d have to agree; she’s scary ugly!”
We walked back out to the main hall, Rosie and Jimmy looking relieved to see us close again, and tried to decide what to do for dinner. Rosie had picked up some supplies in the village on her way up that morning, so we debated whether to rough-it at the house or drive around until we found a restaurant in one of the nearby villages. Lori wanted to stay in, and Jimmy elected to stay in the coach-house that night; he thought the guest bedrooms were far too big, intimidating, and creepy, he felt more comfortable in one of the smaller bedrooms in the coach-house; besides, the bedrooms there had a commanding view of the driveway and the lane beyond, so anyone trying to sneak into the place would be in full view, so that was decided. The fridge in the huge, echoing kitchen had eggs, bacon, bread, milk and cheese, so Lori and Rosie whipped up some omelettes while we all sat at the kitchen table and chatted while we ate a light supper.
By now it was getting late, so Rosie asked Jimmy to take her home, which of course he jumped at, so we all said our goodnight’s and retired for the night. Lori and I stayed in what had been my mother’s bedroom, and some of her things were still there. They reminded me sharply of her, but Lori had never seen them, so there were no associations for her with the vacuum-packed clothes hanging in the closets and the various trinket boxes and bric-a-brac in the dresser drawers. The caretaker service had left the house pretty much as I remembered it; nothing was out of place, nothing had been removed or replaced; even the paintings had been cleaned and restored; they were certainly brighter and more legible than I remembered them as a boy, not that it made any of them look any more respectable than before; they were still the same villainous-looking bunch I knew and feared so much…
There was a painting on the wall in the dressing room that Lori requested I take down; that of General Sir Andrew Denham, otherwise known as ‘Black’ Andrew, General of the Royal Armies during the Civil War; he’d switched sides when he’d figured out the Royalist’s were losing, joined Cromwell and the New Model Army, and wreaked havoc in Ireland, with his habit of hanging everyone in sight; when the Restoration became imminent, he fled the country, took ship with the Dutch and promptly sailed off to pillage the Dutch and Portugese East Indiamen ships, amassing a huge fortune, a large chunk of which he expended in buying himself a Royal Pardon, after which he sailed off and began pillaging the Dutch and Portugese ships all over again.
It wasn’t until the King married Catherine of Braganza, a Portugese princess, that he was finally dragged off to the Tower of London and hanged for piracy, slave-trading without a Royal Warrant, plundering, pillaging and raping of coastal towns in the south of England when the piracy was a little slack, and generally pissing-off the king. The sight of him with his long curly wig and expression of dissipated evil leering at her was too much even for Lori’s nerve, so he ended up facing the wall in the corridor outside the bedroom.