Lucy Gordon - The Monte Carlo Proposal

‘I came because it seems the only way to see you,’ she said curtly. ‘You’re never home and you’re always busy.’

‘I’m not too busy for you,’ I said, sitting beside her. ‘I’m glad you’re here, because I’ve got a lot to tell you.’

‘I can imagine. I heard about your party for your low-life friends. I’m not surprised I was excluded from that. All you think about now is how to make life easy for your little crook.’

‘She’s not a crook. The charges have been dropped.’

‘I suppose you did that?’

‘Yes, I did it.’

‘May I ask how?’

‘They were dropped because she’s innocent. She always was.’

She didn’t answer and I took her hands. ‘Gracie, come on-’

She tried to snatch her hands away. ‘Don’t call me Gracie.’

I kept hold. ‘I’ll call you Gracie if I want to. It’s what I used to call you, remember? When I was a boy?’

‘That was a long time ago.’

‘Not that long. You called me Jacko and I called you Gracie. We were happy then.’

I could see that the memory had softened her a little, but she wasn’t going to give in too easily.

‘We’re not those people any more.’

‘Yes, we are,’ I insisted. ‘That was our past. Ours. Yours and mine. And nobody else can ever share it or know about it.’

She looked at me.

‘Not even Della?’

‘Not even Della,’ I said, knowing I had to conceal how much Della had contributed to this moment. ‘You were a second mother to me, and nobody else knows what that means. I miss it, Gracie. I miss how close we were. Don’t you?’

‘Yes,’ she whispered, holding onto my hands now. ‘But you grew up and went away.’

‘You used to say I’d never grow up, and you were right. I’m still Jacko inside, and I always will be. Only to you, of course. I wouldn’t let anyone else call me that.’

She smiled hesitantly. ‘Jacko,’ she said.

I drew her to her feet.

‘Come on, I’m taking you to lunch. Things are happening, and I want you to be the first to know about them.’

I told my secretary to hold all calls, and we went out to the Ritz. It was a long lunch, and a happy one. It was years since we had felt so close. I told her all about my future plans, and although I could see she was shocked she didn’t make an issue of it. Near the end of lunch I slipped out to call Harry Oxton.

Grace didn’t seem surprised when he turned up to escort her home. She gave me a smile I hadn’t seen for years and said significantly, ‘I see Jacko the Joker is still alive.’

‘Good grief!’ I exclaimed. ‘That was one of your names for me too.’

‘Or sometimes Jumping Jacko.’

‘Yes, I remember now. Those names were truer than Bully Jack ever was, and I think they’ll be happier than he ever was.’

‘That all depends on her answer, I suppose?’ Grace said.

‘Yes, and it’s far from certain. Cross your fingers for me, Gracie.’

‘I will. The very best of luck-Jacko.’

We hugged each other tightly, and she went off with Harry.

Now I had the real mountain to climb. I ought to go round there, but I found myself putting it off. There was no hurry. She would know she was safe by now, and that was what mattered.

The truth was that I was scared to face her.

Della’s story

Grandad pounced on me as soon as I got home.

‘You’re in the clear,’ he carolled. ‘They’re dropping the charges.’

‘Where did you hear that?’

‘Jack told me. He was here. He went to see Cunningham and got him to agree.’

‘But how did he do that?’

‘Bribery and corruption, he said. Oops!’ He put his hand to his mouth. ‘He made me promise not to tell you.’

I hardly heard. I was beginning to realise that Jack hadn’t stayed around to tell me the good news himself.

‘Where is he?’ I asked.

‘He said he had to go.’

‘Did he say when he’d be back?’

Grandad shrugged.

Mixed with relief there was a sinking feeling inside me. Jack had done what he promised, but it hadn’t mattered enough to him to tell me himself and see my face. He couldn’t have told me more clearly that I was in the past.

All that day I was sure he’d call me, but the phone stayed silent. Didn’t he even want to hear about my joy? Didn’t he want to bother with me at all?

At last I gave in and called his office.

‘I’m sorry,’ his secretary told me. ‘Mr Bullen said to hold all calls.’

I hung up and sat staring at the phone.

It rang and I seized it up. ‘Jack?’

‘No, it’s Thomas Wendell. Just to keep you up to date with what’s happening. The police have confirmed to me that the case has been dropped, seeing as the Cunninghams have withdrawn the charges.’

‘Because of Mr Bullen?’

‘Oh, yes. He’s been pulling strings like crazy. He’s investing a fortune in that clapped-out firm, and I don’t think he’ll see much of it back. You’ll be getting written confirmation, but you can take it as definite. It’s all over.’

I thanked him politely but I was in a daze. His last words stood out in neon.

It’s all over.

Of course he’d been talking about the case, but there was an ominous second meaning.

It’s all over.

And it was. All over. Jack had done what he’d promised. He’d cleared whatever he’d thought was on his conscience and now he could forget me. In fact he’d started to forget me already.

‘When Jack comes back we’ll have a special celebration meal,’ Grandad said. ‘Beans on toast.’

‘He’s not coming, Grandad, and we should start packing.’

‘Packing? What are you talking about, luv?’

‘He’s helped us out and that’s it. I’m an embarrassment to him.’

‘You mean we’re an embarrassment.’ He looked crestfallen. ‘Is that why he keeps getting my name wrong?’

I didn’t answer. I was too preoccupied to hear this properly, or consider the implications.

It suddenly seemed terrible to be here, where we had no right to be, and I couldn’t wait to get out.

I had to write to him, and for some reason this letter was harder than the other one. I told him how grateful I was, thanked him, and promised to be no further trouble to him.

When I read it over I was thoroughly dissatisfied with it, but I knew I couldn’t do any better.

We packed up quickly and went out into the street. A few minutes’ walk brought us to the nearest tube station, and an hour later we were entering our own little home.

Grandad went to bed early. I sat up late, waiting for the phone to ring. Of course it didn’t. It was early light when I went upstairs and fell into a doze. It lasted on and off until the dawn, when I was awoken by the sound of someone banging on the front door.

I threw the window open and yelled, ‘Oi, I don’t know what you-?’

I stopped at the sight of Jack’s furious face glaring up at me.

‘Della, you have two seconds to get yourself down here and let me in. Then I’m breaking the door down.’

I was still pulling on my dressing gown as I opened the front door. He was inside in a moment, still furious.

‘A nice way to behave!’ he snapped. ‘You couldn’t wait around to see me, could you? Once it was settled you couldn’t get out fast enough. Well, that tells me where I stand.’

‘Jack, what-?’

‘I love you-do you understand that? I’m mad about you. I wanted to make everything right for you, and kiss you, and tell you I’d love you for ever. And, not for the first time, you weren’t there.’

‘I wasn’t there because you didn’t want me,’ I said indignantly. ‘You left a message with Grandad, then you walked out and told your secretary not to take my calls. What was I supposed to think?’