Page 72 of The Un-Apparent Heir

“It’s gonna be an hour, love,” a woman behind the counter said. “Take this and a scone.”

Lucy had no hands, so she threw the scone haphazardly into her diaper bag and picked up the disappointing brewed tea.

“Thanks.”

She tried to be charitable. Her midwestern nice came out in situations like this.

“Luce, please. Let me help you,” Rose reached for Iona.

Lucy snapped, going into full mama bear mode.

“Do not touch my baby! Do not touch her! You do not get to touch her!”

Everyone stared at the argument between The Countess and The Other Woman. Lucy wondered if she had humiliated herself because she was the last to know about Rose’s schemes or if no one knew. She was mortified, high-tailing out of the coffee shop. She reached the car park behind the chemist, Rose calling after. Lucy put her cup of tea atop the car and feverishly buckled Iona into her seat.

“Lucy, please, wait up. What is going on?”

“Oh, you fuckingknowwhat is going on!” Lucy shouted—not caring who heard. “You’re a cunt is what is going on.”

Rose recoiled in horror.

“Yeah, I know that word. And I don’t throw it around, but God damn it if you come within five feet of my childreneveragain, so help me, I will smite you. In fact, I will run my mouth in London like you will not believe. Your children will have no hope for a good placement at any reputable school. Just call my bluff.”

“Lucy, I am sorry. Winston told you?—”

“He told me you attempted to ruin my marriage.”

“I never wanted that. I thought I was helping. He did not. We… he told me no. In no uncertain terms and?—”

“Winston and I do not have an arrangement, Rose. You are my dear friend—or you were. You held Iona during her fucking christening. You are not helping me and you are harming my children. I never, ever want to speak to you again.”

Iona, now terrified by her mother’s tone of voice, screamed. It made Lucy’s breasts leak and her heartache. She felt like the world’s worst mother—the world’s worst everything as she closed the car door, baby safely secured inside and ran around to the driver’s seat.

“Lucy, please?—”

“Go fuck yourself, Rose!” Lucy closed her door.

Lucy sobbed and waited for Rose to go. She wanted to run but wasn’t sure where. She longed to flee anywhere but here where she felt demoralised, ostracised, and totally out of place. She would have done anything to go back to a time when she wasn’t just Winston’s wife or the Countess or Malcolm’s mum. She wanted to be Lucy Chandler the Herder of Cats and Maker of Miracles. She missed her best friend. She missed Vanna, Ed, Paul, and Sanne. She missed London and the south. She missed everything that made her feel human again. And she missed her husband seeing her as a person and caring about her. She wanted to go back in time. She drove off, listening to a clunk. There went her tea. The baby was still shrieking.

“Fuck it,” Lucy said.

She drove back home before feeling ill. Lucy pulled off on the side of the road and vomited. Car still running, baby still crying, she realised that the thought of going back to the estate made her ill. Unable to function, she drove around, soothing her baby, and proceeded to the train station. She popped the baby in the pram and left her car behind. She stepped up to the ticket window.

“Two seats first class to Windsor, via London,” she said.

“That will be a long trip.”

“I could use the time,” Lucy replied.

They boarded the train. Lucy gave the baby another dose of paracetamol and the ear drops. As they flew through the countryside, now in England, Iona fell asleep. Clouds parted. She was terrified to leavethe boys behind. She feared this had ended things with Winston. At the same time, if she stayed, she felt she might do something dangerous. So, she held her baby tight and fled to the safety she had once known. She knew Natalie was down in Windsor with her family. That was all she could do.

18

SWORDPLAY

Sanne and Paul planned to celebrate their news with family at Windsor on a lovely Friday evening. Sanne was excited to cut the cake and determine if they were having two baby girls, two baby boys, or one of each. She prayed it would be two girls but would settle for one of each. She feared it was two boys.

They had dinner, Elliot’s favourite—a rack of lamb. It was delicious. Well, for everyone but Natalie who noticeably picked at her food. As per usual, Kiersten inhaled her food before anyone finished. Olav said no one put away food quite like his wife. Sanne wished she had Kiersten’s metabolism.

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