BB
With an hour to go before his party, BB mentally checked his list, hoping he’d not forgotten anything. Champagne and wine in the fridge – tick. Beer and red wine on the terrace table with glasses – tick. Nibbles consisting of large packets of crisps and tortillas – tick. Cheese and biscuits – tick. Mini pasties – tick. Florentine biscuits to go with the coffee he planned to offer before everyone left – tick.
He hoped everyone he’d invited would come. So many new friends he’d made over the summer months but, having promised Rachel it wouldn’t be a large crowd, he’d tried to keep the guest list small. He guessed there’d never be more than eight or nine of them on the terrace at any given moment during the evening.
Johnnie had phoned to say he’d pop in early while Sabine babysat Carla before going home to let Sabine come. Harriet had said she, Frank and Ellie were looking forward to it. To his delight, Elisabett and Patricia had promised to drive over from Kingsbridge for the evening. BB smiled to himself. Introducing his English relatives to his friends promised to be the crowning event to an exciting few days.
Regatta Week had been amazing. The atmosphere in town, the thrill of crewing on board Chevalier in a race where she was placed second overall but first in her class had confirmed she was the boat for him.
Everything was now going ahead for him to buy her. Just a week or two whilst Johnnie helped him sort out the formalities – and he transferred the dollars – and she’d be his.
A knock on the open front door and Johnnie called out, ‘Hello?’
‘Come on through,’ BB shouted.
‘First to arrive, am I?’ Johnnie said. ‘Haven’t yet got used to planning my social life around the demands of Carla.’
‘No worries. We can have a glass of champagne together before everyone arrives. It gives me time to thank you personally for everything this summer.’
As BB poured the drinks, Johnnie noticed a picture postcard of the Scilly Isles propped up on the mantelpiece of the sitting room.
‘Rachel?’ he asked, indicating the card.
‘Yeah. She’s having a great time down on St Mary’s.’
‘Any idea when she’s due back?’
BB shook his head. ‘Not a clue. Ah, Harriet, Frank and Ellie are here. Let’s party.’
Elisabett and Patricia were the next to arrive, followed within minutes by Owen. BB made the introductions with a happy smile on his face.
‘Meet my newly discovered English relatives,’ he said. ‘I can’t tell you how happy I am to say that. My Dartmouth summer has been just perfect,’ he continued. ‘I’ve found the English Connection and, thanks to Johnnie,’ he raised his glass in Johnnie’s direction. ‘I’ve bought a boat. Mission accomplished.’
Johnnie raised his glass. ‘Cheers to that. Time for me to go home now and for Sabine to party. Bye, everyone. Thanks, BB.’
‘Bye,’ Harriet said absently, looking across the terrace to where Ellie and Patricia were talking together and helping themselves to nibbles. She turned to Frank.
‘Am I imagining it? Do you think there is a certain likeness between those two? I mean I know Patricia is a bit older but … ’ Her voice trailed away as she continued looking. ‘They look so similar to me.’
‘Mmm, they’ve both got the same shaped faces and neither of them are tall,’ Frank said. ‘They’ve both got brown hair too. Maybe that’s what makes them appear alike.’
‘No, it’s more than that,’ Harriet said. ‘I wonder how their connection to BB came about.’
‘Why don’t you ask BB or Elisabett if you’re interested,’ Frank said.
‘I’m probably imagining things that aren’t there but I will later. Oh good. Sabine’s here.’
Once Sabine had a glass of champagne in hand, BB took the three of them across to introduce them to Elisabett and Patricia, who was still talking to Ellie.
‘So pleased you found some relatives,’ Sabine said. ‘Is it a connection to the Holdsworth family like you were hoping?’
BB laughed. ‘You remember our first conversation. No not the Holdsworths. A much more recent connection than that through my Great-uncle Lance.’
‘How come?’ Sabine asked.
‘Operation OverLord down on Slapton beach. He and my granddad were GIs and Uncle Lance met the love of his love before he was killed. One Florrie Widdicombe, the mother of Elisabett.’
‘My father is a Widdicombe,’ Ellie said, unable to contain herself. ‘I wonder if we’re related.’
Elisabett looked at Frank. ‘I thought your name was Lewis. You certainly don’t look like a Widdicombe.’
‘That’s because I’m not,’ Frank said.
‘No, I meant my biological father,’ Ellie said quickly. ‘He was somebody called Oscar Widdicombe. He’s dead now. Maybe we’re related too?’
‘Told you,’ Harriet muttered to Frank. ‘Not just round faces.’
‘I can see more research coming up for everyone,’ Sabine said.
‘Not necessarily,’ Harriet said. She took a deep breath as everyone looked at her.
‘When Oscar and I were planning our wedding, I discovered his grandfather had a sister who had been cut off from the family because of an affair during the war. Her name was Florence Widdicombe. Apparently she was always called Florrie. Oscar and Amy never met her.’
Everybody looked at Harriet in stunned silence for several seconds, before the noise of the front door slamming closed made them all jump.
‘Hi, BB. I’ve come back early especially for your party. Hope there’s still some champagne left,’ and Rachel walked out onto the terrace to join them.
Harriet stared in disbelief at the woman and clutched at Frank’s arm as the words, ‘Vanessa Harford,’ escaped unbidden from her lips and she fainted.