One hundred and twenty-six

The next morning, a red petit taxi pulled up at the gates of the Omary mansion. It was a bright day, the light tinged with spring. Ghita got down, and was followed by Blaine. As they walked over the damp lawn, their hands touched.

A guard was standing to the left of the gate.

Rather than turn Ghita away as before, he signalled to a second guard in the security booth.

The gates opened electronically.

‘Welcome home, Miss Omary,’ he said.

They walked up the drive and over to the porch.

‘This is where you live?’ said Blaine, visibly shocked.

Ghita blushed.

‘If you’d like me to give it up, I will,’ she said.

‘No... no...’ Blaine stuttered. ‘I think I could become used to a lifestyle like this.’

They kissed and, as they did so, the front door opened inwards.

‘Welcome home, Mademoiselle,’ the butler proclaimed. ‘I trust you are well.’

‘I don’t think I have ever been this well,’ she replied, ‘and how are you?’

The servant appeared baffled. The Ghita Omary of old would never have enquired after anyone except herself.

‘I am very well indeed, Mademoiselle. Thank you for asking,’ he replied.

Ghita led the way through to the grand salon, pausing to greet the maids and other staff as they approached. She was trembling.

‘I feel so humble,’ she said, ‘so utterly unworthy of all this.’

Blaine kissed her on the cheek.

‘Believe me, you are worthy of it all,’ he said.

Ghita looked at her watch. Gone was the diamond-pavé Chopard, replaced by a Swatch.

‘The court’s acquittal went through last night,’ she said. ‘All our assets have been returned. But, best of all...’ she was cut off by the sound of the doorbell. ‘Best of all is this!’ she exclaimed.

Rushing back through the salon, she pulled the door open, and found herself in her father’s arms.

Neither would let go.

After the longest hug, Ghita remembered something important. She let go, kissing her father’s cheek as they parted.

‘This is Blaine, Baba, the most wonderful man in the world.’ She stopped, looked at the floor bashfully. ‘The second most wonderful man in the world.’

‘I believe it is you I have to thank,’ Omary said, extending his hand. ‘For saving me from... from limbo.’

‘He’s an angel,’ Ghita swooned. ‘A wonderful, silly, funny American angel!’