But that was impossible.
She looked at Betty, who was trembling.
‘Does this mean the Earl is my grandfather? No, it can’t be.’
But the evidence was undeniable.
The man Clemmie had identified as the Earl, the man whose image was displayed aboard the Royal Yacht, was the same man her granny claimed to be her grandfather.
‘I don’t know what to say. I’ve never seen any photographs of my great-great-grandfather when he was young, so I wouldn’t have recognised him, but yes, I can see the similarity.’
‘There’s nothing similar about it, they are the same person,’ declared Betty.
Clemmie looked towards Amelia, ‘What do you think?’
Amelia nodded. ‘I agree with Betty.’
Betty was quiet for a moment. ‘Did he actually give up the Queen’s daughter for a life on Puffin Island? I don’t know what to think. Was he more than just a humble café owner on the coast? Was he… was he secretly a nobleman, an Earl, a man with ties to royalty?
‘I’ve never questioned who I am until now.’
Just then, the front doorbell rang.
Betty was about to stand, but Clemmie was quicker, springing to her feet.
‘I’ll get it. Amelia, pour Granny a stiff drink. I think she needs it.’
As Clemmie left the room and made her way towards the door, her mind was spinning. The Earl was her great-great-grandfather? It seemed impossible. Unreal. And yet, here they were. What a secret to have buried for all these years. It seemed so surreal.
As she opened the door, she briefly closed her eyes. This was all she needed right at this moment.
Oliver stood on the doorstep, his face drawn with something between regret and urgency.
‘Please, let me explain.’
‘This really isn’t a good time,’ Clemmie said, her thoughts still tangled around Granny and the revelation they’d just uncovered.
‘Please, Clem,’ he said, his voice quieter now. ‘I’ve come all this way. I’ve been an idiot, and I need to explain. If, after that, you never want to see me again… I’ll go. I promise.’
Clemmie studied him for a second, then let out a breath. ‘Wait here.’ She shut the door and turned back towards the living room.
Betty was putting on her coat.
‘Where are you going?’ Clemmie asked, concerned.
‘I need some air. I need to think.’ Betty’s voice was firm but distant. ‘I’m going for a walk, I won’t be long.’
Clemmie and Amelia watched as she disappeared out of the back door.
‘To think, it’s usually Granny who is the keeper of secrets,’ Clemmie murmured. ‘I doubt she’s ever experienced this kind of shock before.’
‘Who was at the front door?’ Amelia asked.
‘Oliver. He’s here to explain. He must have jumped in his car the moment I left.’
Amelia glanced towards the back door, then back at Clemmie. ‘You listen to what he has to say. Call me if you need me.’ Without another word, she slipped outside after Betty.
Clemmie turned back towards the front door, steadying herself.
