Lucy Gordon - The Monte Carlo Proposal

‘You don’t need to,’ I said. ‘He sounds exactly like mine.’

‘Really? Tell me about him?’

‘He’s never grown up either. Just like you said. Grandad has a child’s ability to see the world as he wants it to be, and he’s a great spinner of tales. When I was a little girl I thought it was wonderful, having someone who could dress the whole world up in glitter. I was furious when I discovered that other people call it lying, because it isn’t. It’s just fantasising, and when you’re used to it, it’s easy to sort out the truth.’

‘What did your parents say about his fantasies?’

‘I barely remember them. They died when I was two, and Grandad raised me.’

‘All alone? I mean, you didn’t have a grandmother?’

‘No, she was dead too. It was just him and me.’

I laughed suddenly, because things were coming back to me. Nice things that made me happy to remember.

‘This is what I mean about his stories. According to Grandad, a posse of social workers descended on him, trying to wrench me from his arms, and he beat them off at the door. Actually, his sister told me that he was visited by one friendly, understanding social worker, who had far too much on her plate and was relieved to mark this case “Solved”. When Grandad told her he could manage perfectly well she couldn’t get out of there fast enough.’

‘Did you have many other relatives?’

‘Loads. I was too young to realise why my parents had vanished, and I remember the family getting together a lot, and people crying. Grandad cried more than anyone, but he also cuddled me. Sometimes he cuddled and cried at the same time. We had a wonderful life together. We loved each other and we laughed a lot, and we were happy.’

I stopped because I was suddenly flooded with emotion as I thought of Grandad, how much I loved him and how wretched he was right now. It seemed terrible to be sitting here enjoying the high life while he-

‘What is it?’ Jack asked me.

‘Nothing,’ I said hastily.

‘You’re crying.’

‘I’m not.’

I knew he wasn’t fooled, but mercifully he didn’t press it. His manner simply became more gentle.

‘You love him very much, don’t you?’ he asked.

‘Yes,’ I said, blowing my nose. ‘You said you and Grandpa Nick were like a couple of kids, and that’s how it is with Grandad and me. He looks after me, I look after him.’

‘And it’s been that way for a long time, hasn’t it?’ he asked. ‘Since you were-what? Ten?’

‘More like six,’ I said.

‘Me too. I can’t claim as young as six, but I can remember helping Nick out with the books at the store, because he’d promised Dad he’d have them done by next day and he hadn’t even started them. He kept putting them off because he was hopeless at figures. I could manage figures OK. I don’t mean I was brilliant, but my mind worked that way. His didn’t. He thought it was rocket science. So I did the books, which didn’t leave me any time for my homework. So he came up to the school next day and gave them a sob story to get me off. I didn’t know where to look. I was so sure they’d see through him. But they didn’t. He did it so well.’

‘Oh, yes,’ I said, remembering my childhood. ‘He did it well.’

Now I really liked Jack. Having daft grandfathers, so alike that they might have been twins, was a true bond.

‘Nick was full of silly jokes and superstitions,’ Jack resumed. ‘He believed in lucky charms, and he had a dozen of them, all supposed to work for something different. The most important were the cufflinks. He was wearing them when he proposed to the most wonderful woman in the world, even though he reckoned he had no chance. But he was wrong. She said yes. So he decided they must be lucky, and he treasured them always. It meant a lot that he gave them to me. We both knew Dad wouldn’t have understood.’

‘Do they work?’ I asked.

‘Often enough to be hair-raising. Last night I went to the casino twice, the first time wearing a pair of my own.’

‘Solid gold?’

‘Please!’ he said in a scandalised voice. ‘Bully Jack doesn’t waste his time on gold. Solid platinum.’

I nodded sagely. ‘Twice the price.’

‘Right. Anyway I lost, which is what you expect in a casino. Then later I went back a second time, I was wearing Nick’s “lucky” links, and won ten grand.’

‘Aha! That’s how come you can afford me!’

He surveyed me wryly. ‘We passed ten grand about eleven-thirty this morning. And we haven’t even started on jewellery yet.’

‘Your grandpa sounds great. I can understand why you liked him so much.’

‘I loved him. Mind you, I blame him for everything. If he hadn’t started that store my Dad couldn’t have built it up into a chain and then left the lot to me. It was made very clear that I had to become a tycoon-whether I wanted it or not.’

‘And you expect me to believe that you didn’t?’

‘I wanted to be a vet. But the trouble with money is that if you have it you find that more keeps sticking to you, like mud. And people depend on you-the work-force, shareholders, your sister. You dream about getting out from under, but how can you when it’s going to affect them?’

‘I suppose we all dream of getting out from under,’ I mused. ‘What would your version be? Becoming a vet at last?’

‘No, it’s too late for that. I’d just like to get away and be a hobo of the waterways. I’d have a barge, and a great, stupid dog. Or maybe I’d be really extravagant and have two.’

‘Just you and the dogs?’

‘Probably. There aren’t too many people you could ask to spend their lives like that.’

‘Oh, this is to be a lifetime thing?’

‘You bet. The whole point is to be completely free of all the heavy stuff-obligations, responsibilities, and above all people’s expectations.’

I’m not sure if he knew it, but he gave a little sigh as he said the last words, and it told me a great deal.

‘That’s where the shoe really pinches?’

‘And how!’ he said with feeling.

‘Hence the dog?’

‘Dogs. At least three. I’ve just decided. Dogs have the right idea. They don’t expect anything from you except love and care. They aren’t trying to talk you into a bad investment, or get you drunk, hoping to muddle you into something you’ll regret. They don’t pay you daft compliments in an attempt to seduce you, because you’re rich and they want to get their hands on the goodies. And above all they aren’t trying to badger you into a marriage that would suit them.’

His voice got a little ragged on the last words.

‘Are you really that modest?’ I asked. ‘Or is it false modesty?’

‘What is?’

‘Your assumption that the women who seduce you are only after your money.’

Personally, I could think of a million other good reasons. Well, one anyway.

‘I only said they try to seduce me,’ he pointed out.

‘Of course. And you say, “Get thee behind me, Satan.”’

‘Never mind that,’ he said hastily. ‘We’ve got distracted. And I’d like to make it clear that when I mentioned money I wasn’t accusing you. If there’s one lady in the world who isn’t trying to fleece me, it’s you.’

‘Well, I don’t have to fleece you, do I?’ I pointed out. ‘You’re spending a fortune on me without giving me the trouble of seducing you-always assuming that I could.’

‘I’m not answering that. You don’t need me to answer that.’

I just smiled.

‘And,’ he pointed out, ‘always assuming that you’d want to.’

‘And I’m not answering that ,’ I told him. ‘You think I came down in the last shower?’