Letter from a Stranger (17 page)

“Several things, darling. About a year before that, I closed the showroom. I stopped paying your mother your father’s salary. There was no longer an import company either. So what was the point? That was why she came to visit me in London in 1994. I still owned Auntie Beryl’s house just off Charles Street, and she stayed with me, trying to make nice, so I believe.…” Gabriele’s voice quavered slightly; she paused, cleared her throat before continuing a little unsteadily. “One afternoon, when I was out at appointments, she broke into my writing case. Can you believe that? She actually broke the lock, as bold as brass. She stole jewelry which Auntie Beryl had left me in her will. Plus a large amount of cash. Deborah also read personal documents, and it was those that set her off on a horrible rampage.”

Gabriele took out her handkerchief and blew her nose, dabbed at her eyes. “I was stunned that my own daughter would invade my privacy,
and
steal from me.”

Justine was aghast at this story, and leaning forward she touched her grandmother’s hand, patted it. “Don’t cry, Gran. I’m here now, and Richard will come soon, and we’ll make up for the pain she’s caused you. I promise you we will.”

Gabriele forced a smile, nodded, but was quiet, falling down into herself, as she endeavored to recoup her equilibrium.

After a few minutes, Justine asked, “Did you get the jewelry back? And the cash?”

“I did, yes, because she made one mistake. The things went missing when the help was off. They were on holiday. She couldn’t accuse them, and the house hadn’t been broken into. And so it was obviously your mother who had taken my things. She didn’t have a leg to stand on and I got everything back.”

Justine nodded. “And what kind of documents did she find, Gran?”

There was a long silence, before Gabriele said at last, “She found my marriage certificate. She discovered that I had married Uncle Trent a year before he died, that’s fourteen years ago now.”

“I’m so glad that happened, Grandma! He adored you, and he was such a lovely man, so kind and warm. But why didn’t you tell anybody? Like Dad? Or me and Rich? Or our mother, your daughter?” So-called, Justine thought, remembering her mother’s treachery over the years.

“I told your father. In fact, he was the one who urged me to marry Trent, and—”

“Why did Dad urge you to get married to him?” Justine interrupted, her curiosity aroused more than ever.

“Because he agreed with Trent that we
should
be married, in order to protect me should anything happen to Trent. You see, Trent was older than me, and he was diagnosed with leukemia a year before he died, and although he and I had been together for many years, I’d always resisted marrying him.”

Gabriele paused, lifted her hands helplessly, shook her head, looking rueful, as if she could find no good reason for this attitude on her part. She stared out into the room, lost for a moment in her thoughts.

After a second or two, as Justine waited patiently for her to catch her breath, Gabriele finally continued. “Trent was determined to make me his wife because he loved me, had loved me since the day we met, and because he had so little time left. He also wished to secure my future financially. He had never married, so had no offspring, but he did have a sister and a nephew. Being a lawyer he knew only too well how families could behave when money was involved. It occurred to him that his sister and her son might challenge his will.
If I wasn’t his wife.
”

“I understand,” Justine murmured. “You would be vulnerable, and that’s what Dad and Uncle Trent were endeavoring to prevent.”

“That’s right. So I finally at long last agreed to marry Trent, providing he left his sister and nephew the house in Long Island and his New York apartment. I didn’t want trouble. I’m not avaricious, and I basically agreed to get married to make Trent happy.”

“And did Uncle Trent agree to your suggestion?”

“He argued with me at first, but finally gave in, and left those two properties to his sister and nephew, who, by the way, were not only surprised at this bequest after Trent died, but also perfectly happy with what they got.”

“It was generous of Uncle Trent,” Justine murmured, and grimaced. “So Mom found the marriage certificate and that set her off. One thing I don’t quite understand.… What was her anger about? Uncle Trent was dead by then.”

“I’ll get to that in a minute, but let me explain something else. Many years ago, long before your mother was married to your father, I found a beautiful property in Connecticut. It was called Indian Ridge, the home we all loved except your mother, who didn’t really care about it. Trent bought it, put it in my name, and gave it to me outright. It has always been in my name and it still is—”

“Indian Ridge belongs to you! Not to Mom?” Justine’s astonishment showed on her face and she gaped at Gabriele, staggered by this announcement, and thinking yet again what a pathological liar her mother was.

“That’s correct, Justine,” Gabriele answered. “When your mother came to London ten years ago she demanded Indian Ridge. She wanted me to give it to her outright. I explained I couldn’t do that because it was in an unbreakable trust. The Somerset Trust had been created some years ago, and Indian Ridge is in the Somerset Trust for you and Richard, and your children, and then their children, and so on. You and he will inherit Indian Ridge one day, after I’m dead. It’s a pretty straightforward trust. Your mother didn’t like my news about the Somerset Trust. I pointed out to her that she had never really loved it or even liked the house, but that she could live there for as long as I was alive. After that it would be yours, and you and Richard would be in charge and could do what you wanted about the house.”

“Grandma, I’m so stunned about inheriting Indian Ridge, and Richard will be.… Thank you so much. I don’t know what else to say. It’s so very generous of you, and somehow a ‘thank you’ doesn’t seem quite enough.”

“You are my family. My only family, now that my auntie Beryl is dead. She was the last of my mother’s line except for me. Now you and Richard are the future line.… You and yours will carry on after I’m dead. As for your mother, I don’t know what to say about her.”

Justine was moved, so touched by Gabriele’s words she couldn’t speak. She was choked up and emotional for a moment or two, and she sat very still in the chair trying to steady herself.

At last, taking a deep breath, she said in a low voice, “I bet Deborah went berserk, lost her cool.”

“She was furious. And that is when she vowed never to speak to me again, never see me again, and that you and Richard were barred from my life. That I could never be in contact with you.”

“So that’s what the estrangement is all about. As you said, material things. Gran, I want—”

“Could I just finish this, darling, before you tell me what you need to say?”

“Yes, please do.”

“It’s important you know that the Somerset Trust was created when you were children, because I knew how much you and Richard cared about Indian Ridge, and Tony too. Your father loved that place with all his heart, and had he lived he would have continued to reside there, since I also named him in the Somerset Trust.”

“But not my mother?”

“No, Justine, not as far as the house is concerned. It didn’t matter to her, except for its intrinsic market value. She would sell it at the drop of a hat.”

Justine sat staring at her grandmother thoughtfully, and then asked at last, “Why didn’t you marry Uncle Trent when you were a younger woman? I mean, why did you wait until it was literally forced on you by Dad? Because Uncle Trent was ill and Dad knew he didn’t have long to live?”

A deep sigh escaped Gabriele, and she leaned forward. Her blue eyes, clear, full of intelligence, were fixed on her granddaughter. “Actually I always longed to marry him, deep inside myself. But I couldn’t. There was a terrible impediment, you see.”

Justine’s eyes narrowed and she cried heatedly, “My mother! She was the impediment. She didn’t like Trenton Saunders. I was aware of that when we were little. She never wanted us to go with you to his house on Long Island.
She was the impediment, wasn’t she
?”

“She was. But, darling, how did you know how she felt about Trent?” Gabriele sounded and looked astonished.

“Because I was a very observant child, if you recall. And she didn’t exactly hide her dislike of him. I might go as far as to call it hatred. She harbored great hatred for Uncle Trent, and I can’t imagine why. He was so lovely.”

“What you say is the truth. Your father loved Trent, and your father also loved me, and in the end he made me see sense. He said, ‘To hell with that bloody screwed-up daughter of yours, just live your life and be happy, and make that devoted man happy while he’s still on this earth.’ I’ve never forgotten your father’s words.”

“Where did you get married, Grandma?”

“City Hall in New York. Your father came along with us, jokingly saying he wanted to make sure we did it. Then he took us to lunch at Le Cirque afterwards. We never told anyone. Except Anita, who knew Trent well, and Larry Dalton, Michael’s father, who is my lawyer.”

“Oh, Gran darling, what a story, but if only you’d married him years before.…” She let her voice trail off. The past was the past, and nothing could change it now.

Gabriele said, “We were married legally for one year. However, as far as I’m concerned, we’d been a married couple all of the years we were together. Thirty years, actually, and as I once said to Trent, ‘A bit of paper’s not going to make much difference to us, or our lives.’ And he agreed.”

“It does when it comes to wills, and the legal stuff, though, doesn’t it, Gran?”

“It certainly does, darling. Now, I cut you off before. What was it you wanted to tell me?”

Justine took a deep breath, and as she thought of the words she had to say, she began to shake inside. “Gran, you must have wondered why Rich and I never came looking for you ten years ago, and since that time—”

“I figured your mother had told you some awful story about my behavior, or suggested that I had dementia, or Alzheimer’s, and was in a home or an asylum, something like that.”

Justine’s eyes filled with tears and they rolled down her face as she said in a half-choked voice, “She told us … she told us … you were dead, that you’d died in a plane crash.”

“Oh, my God!” Gabriele’s eyes welled. “Oh, my poor darling, you and Rich must have been so upset. And how could my daughter tell a horrendous lie like that?”

Justine jumped up and went to kneel next to her grandmother, took her hands in hers. Hands that had looked after her when she was ill, soothed her anguish when she was upset about something as a child. Those loving, caring hands, worn now and old, and she took them in hers and held them tightly, bent down and kissed them. “Upset is not the right word, Gran. We were heartbroken, and we grieved for you for years. When we found out you were alive I was dumbstruck and couldn’t wait to find you, and Rich felt the same way. And we were worried how you were doing, how you were.… And we were afraid you’d think we didn’t care, didn’t love you, but you know we do.”

Bending forward Gabriele put her arms around Justine and held her tightly. “I’ve never thought badly of either of you. Ever. I know the stuff you’re made of.… Let’s face it. Your father and I shepherded you through your formative years.”

Gabriele wiped her eyes, and so did Justine, and suddenly they looked at each other and began to laugh.

Gabriele said, “Thank you for finding me.”

Justine now gave her grandmother a very direct look, and said, “I want to ask you something.”

“Go ahead.”

“Why didn’t you come to New York immediately to see Richard and me? We wouldn’t have been influenced by our mother. We knew she was a liar and a cheat. We would have believed
you,
Gran.”

“I thought you wouldn’t see me, or have anything to do with me. Deborah had been in such a fury she had frightened me a bit. She can be verbally violent, as you know. Then just as I was getting my courage back, thinking about flying to New York, she sent me a letter and enclosed an e-mail from you and Richard.”

Gabriele went over to the desk, took out some papers. She explained, “Your mother wrote the following.
Mother: Be warned. Richard and Justine feel the same way about you as I do. They don’t want you in the family. They think you’re a liar. Which you are. They are disowning you as I did. Stay away from us. Deborah.
”

Justine was aghast. “How horrible! It’s not true. Honestly, it isn’t.”

Gabriele said, “This e-mail from you to her was enclosed. It says,
Dear Mom: Anyone who lies like your mother has no place in our lives. You did the right thing to disown her. We disown her too. We’re on your side. Love Richard and Justine.
I’m afraid I believed this.”

“Can I see the e-mail, please, Gran?”

“Here it is.” Gabriele handed both pieces of paper to her.

After reading the e-mail, Justine said, “It
was
sent from my computer. But not by me. It’s a forgery. She accessed my computer, sent it to herself. What a duplicitous woman.”

“I know what you mean,” Gabriele replied.

“And inventing that plane crash! How rotten she is.”

“Oddly enough I did have a car crash just after I got back to Istanbul ten years ago, and I was incapacitated for a few months with a broken leg and a broken shoulder. I couldn’t travel for a long time.”

“Thank God I found you, Gran. And thank God for flukes.” Justine paused, then looked over at the arched doorway. A sudden smile illuminated her face.

“Good evening, ladies,” Michael said, coming into the room. “I’ve been sent to collect you by my boss, otherwise known as Anita. She’d like you to come and join us for supper. I’m here to escort you across the courtyard.”

Eighteen

It was a beautiful night, the midnight blue sky sprinkled with the brightest of stars. A huge silver orb of a moon, which seemed much closer than it truly was, looked as if it had been strategically hung over the gardens, resembled a set design in a movie. In the distance, the Bosphorus appeared to have been painted with silver, and it shimmered in the moonlight.