Doubting Abbey

‘Come, Chat with the Chingo!’ said Charlie and led me towards Lord Edward and his dad.

How could the TV presenter wear a jacket? The forecasters had been right about an Indian summer. Hopefully, I looked around for a tray of refreshing drinks to celebrate my arrival.

‘Welcome, Miss Abigail Croxley, to Million Dollar Mansion! How ya feeling? Nervous? Excited? Thrilled to be back at the ancestral pile?’ Charlie turned to the camera. ‘This is the Earl of Croxley’s niece, the dishy daughter of his younger brother, catering magnate, The Honourable Richard Croxley.’ Charlie raised his eyebrows up and down whilst I tried mega hard not to stare at a furry microphone held above our heads. ‘So tell us, Abigail – you must just lurrrve visiting your uncle and cousin. How does it feel to be back in the bosom of your heritage?’

‘Indeed, it is, um, an enormous pleasure to return,’ I declared. Before my makeover, a friendly man like him would have winked at the word ‘bosom’ and stared at my chest. Instead, Charlie lifted my hand to his lips and gave it a kiss. The Earl stepped forward and took his pipe out of his mouth. He wore tweed trousers, a checked shirt and tweed waistcoat like in that magazine in the park. Wow. Here was a living and breathing member of the aristocracy. The only group of people I belonged to was the Facebook Primark fan club.

‘Welcome to Applebridge Hall, Abigail,’ he said gruffly.

A whiff of tobacco reminded me of visits to the pub when I was little, watching Dad play darts and fighting Tom and Ryan for the last pork scratching or peanut.

‘Um, hello,’ I muttered, feeling like FRAUD was my middle name.

‘Speak up, girl,’ he said.

‘How nice to see you again, Uncle. I do hope you are well. Mummy and Daddy send their lo—’ better not overdo it ‘—their good wishes.’ Before I knew it, I’d planted a kiss on the old man’s bristly beard.

He grunted, lifted his pipe and inhaled, then about-turned and headed into the house. Oh, dear – but surely a friendly kiss was the right move for meeting a relative? I smiled at Edward, wondering how many female viewers would swap places with me right at this moment. Not that I’d risk getting close enough to kiss his cheek – it would look so wrong, if his supposed cousin couldn’t stop herself from stroking his tousled honey hair.

My mind went blank as he approached me. If only I’d paid more attention to Lady C’s every word. Should I call him by his full title? What was short for Edward? Ted? Was that too casual?

‘Hello, Teddy,’ I stuttered. Crap! How did that nickname slip out? His cheeks flashed red before he held out his hand and squeezed my fingers a little too tight. ‘I mean… I do hope you are well. The estate looks marvellous.’

‘Pleasant journey, Cousin?’ he said, still studying my face. It was weird. He kind of had the same nose as Abbey.

‘Very, um, nice, thank you,’ I said, squirming under his intense gaze. He had the tiniest green specks in his blue eyes… Ahem. Right. Concentrate. Now, what did Lady C say about conversation? Talk about the weather…

‘No blinding blizzards or black ice, if that’s what you mean,’ I said, my voice giving a little wobble.

‘Hardly,’ he replied dryly. ‘We’re only just in September.’

Charlie came in between us and put his arms around my shoulder. ‘What a family resemblance!’ he said. ‘Honey hair! Blue eyes! And Teddy! I like it, Lord Edward! You kept that name from us. Let’s hope that Abigail—’

‘Abbey,’ I said, breaking the rule on interrupting.

Charlie grinned. ‘Let’s hope that Abbey reveals more family secrets.’

By now Lord Edward’s face had turned an ugly shade of purple. Swiftly, I moved onto the line-up of staff that stood to attention outside the arched entrance.

‘Och, it’s lovely to meet you again, Miss Croxley,’ said Kathleen, the cook. She wore a bright apron and sensible lace-up shoes. Awkwardly, she curtsied. I smiled at her, both of us knowing she’d never previously met the grown-up Abigail Croxley. It didn’t feel right, a top cook like her kowtowing to a pizza waitress.

Next were two chambermaids in black dresses and white hats, only hired for my arrival, apparently. Each one curtsied in turn until I came to the estate manager, hunting gun slung over his shoulder. He nodded, looked at his watch and seemed on the verge of leaving before he gazed behind me. I wondered if he’d caught Lord Edward’s eye.

‘Ahem, welcome back, Miss Croxley,’ he said in a voice deeper than Barry White’s.

‘Thank you, Mr Thompson,’ I said, pleased at remembering his name. Then I smiled at the gardener. ‘I hope you are keeping well, um, Jean, and look forward to a stroll around the estate with you later.’

‘Of course, Miss,’ she said. ‘We’ve worked hard on the vegetable patch this year.’

I turned to her assistant, Nick, with his twinkly eyes and David Beckham stubble. Little did he know it, but we were actually going to be red-hot lovers! Not that I felt remotely kissable without my tan.

‘How splendid to see you again, Nick,’ I murmured, standing upright to make sure the fluffy mike caught every word. ‘I did so enjoy the weeks we spent together last year. Our time amongst the flower beds was delightful and you, um, sowed your seeds so well.’

Charlie snorted whilst Nick raised one eyebrow. I held his hand just a bit longer than Lady C would have deemed decent. His shake was firm, and his mouth twitched as if he was trying not to laugh. Nick was going to be a welcome contrast to the stuffiness of the Croxleys.

With a smile, I turned to Charlie. Drama was like my worst subject at school and I just hoped my aristocratic character came across as believable. Although a small part of me irrationally hoped to be found out, cos Jean, Nick and Kathleen seemed lovely. If only they could know the truth – but that was never going to happen. Truth, honour and loyalty were obviously important to the traditional Croxleys… I couldn’t ever imagine the old Earl being in on my secret and agreeing to fool the nation – not even to save his mansion.

‘Looks like Abigail has very fond memories of the gardens,’ said Charlie with a wink at the camera.

Lord Edward glared at me and rubbed the palm of his hand against the back of his neck.

‘And, with that, folks,’ said Charlie to the camera, ‘may I announce the start of the final. Two weeks from today I shall proudly announce the winner of Million Dollar Mansion. You’ve now met the cast from both here and Marwick Castle. So ready, steady go! Let the battle begin!’

He stood grinning at the camera for several seconds before Gaynor gave him the thumbs-up.

‘That’s a wrap, darlings,’ she said and lit a fag.

Charlie turned to me. ‘Good on ya, Abbey, you’re a natural in front of the camera. Once you’re settled, Bob, the sound operator will fit you up with a lapel mic.’ He turned to Edward. ‘See you at one then, Lord Edward, for your special announcement. I believe we’ll be filming it in the orchards. You and your cousin have just got time to stretch your legs.’

Charlie bowed and headed for Gaynor, taking a notebook out of his pocket. The staff had already gone back indoors. I glanced at Edward.

‘Um…pleasant enough man,’ I said and jerked my head towards Charlie, hands feeling clammy.

Edward scowled. ‘Don’t be naïve, cousin. These media types are only after one thing —a cheap story. Watch what you say to them. Now, come, we’ll walk to the pond. There’s a bench in the shade. I shall fill you in on today’s schedule. And it’s not Teddy. Nor Ted.’

‘So what should I call you?’

‘Edward is my name, Abigail.’

‘As you wish, but please – call me Abbey.’

I followed him down the path to the main drive and we headed across the lawns. Hands in pockets, he sauntered towards the pond.

‘Amaaazin’,’ I murmured, taking in my surroundings. ‘ggg,’ I added, hoping the end of the word didn’t arrive too late.

‘Landscaping costs a fortune nowadays,’ said Edward. ‘Jean was quite a find.’

We skirted the pond and headed for a bench.

‘And how long has Nick been in your employment?’ I asked. Ooh, listen to me, all formal. I was kind of getting the hang of talking posh, remembering everything Lady C had told me and trying to speak just like Abbey did.

Edward gave me a stare, as if to say: why so interested?

‘Don’t we all need to get our stories straight?’ I stuttered. Looked like he might already suspect something was afoot between me and Nick – I wanted the public to do that, not disapproving Teddy.

Quick. Change the subject. ‘Goodness, it’s hot.’ Without thinking, I kicked off my KMid shoes and headed towards a patch of bulrushes. I dipped a toe in the water, which was so clear it looked good enough to drink. A few small fish darted among the reeds. I plunged in the rest of my foot and squidged the sand on the bottom between my toes, just like I used to when me and Dad went fishing for tiddlers.

Ahhhh—bliss. Perhaps this would stop me feeling as if the midday sun was frazzling my brain. Lady C had offered me her sunhat, but per-lease. Wide-rimmed? Floral? Nothing was going to get me into that. Although perhaps I should have protected my grey cells, cos, aargh! What was I thinking? A lady would never complain about how she was feeling, let alone strip off and paddle in front of someone she didn’t know well. In fact, Abbey once had toothache for a whole weekend without telling me. Stoical…that was the word Lady C mentioned. Brave face. Stiff upper lip and all that.