Jemma’s Version
There’s a reverent silence in Derek’s office. Ashford and I sit opposite one another; Derek is at one end of the long, shiny wooden table and the secretary is at the other end.
“Following her marriage to Mr Ashford Parker, the twelfth Duke of Burlingham, Jemma Pears accesses her right to inherit the land and personal property bequeathed to her by her grandmother Catriona. The inheritance consists of: an estate…”
I’m struggling to pay attention, but I just can’t. Derek is reading the entries on the inventory one by one, but it’s an eighty-nine page file packed with numbers and words such as Manor Park, House, Monet, yacht, bonds, stocks… this is blowing my mind.
Even more, when he shows me the bank statements which are full of tiny little numbers.
As soon as Derek notices that I’m staring at the bunch of documents with a glazed look, he grabs a piece of paper and scribbles one big number on it, then he gives it to me.
“All right, Jemma, I can see that you’re not following what I’m saying, so this is all you need to know: the total amount of the account which will be in your name from tomorrow.”
I look at him wide eyed: I have never seen such a huge number in my whole life. It’s as long as an international telephone number! Both Ashford and I lean forward in disbelief.
When I see his amazed expression, I grab the note and hold it against my chest.
“Hands off, this stuff is mine! You’ll touch my money when and if I say so,” I threaten him, possessively.
“If it weren’t for me, you would keep dreaming about that money.”
Derek snatches the piece of paper out of my hands, balls it up and tosses it away, annoyed. “Let’s go on. Following his marriage to Ms Jemma Pears, Ashford Parker, Duke of Burlingham, takes possession of the agreed amount of money needed to clear the most pressing debts owed to various banks, so as to regain full control of his assets.”
Derek looks at us alternately, to make sure everything is clear.
“There’s one last point to clarify,” says Ashford with his arrogant attitude. “Marital life. There are four people at this table, four people who know that it’s a marriage of convenience. For this reason, I suggest that, after we sign the register at the Register Office, we go back to our lives the way we have led them to this day.”
“I agree. There’s no need to tell anyone,” I echo.
Derek coughs nervously. “Well, Ashford, maybe you’ll have to tell Portia, won’t you?”
“What does Portia have to do with it?”
“Who is Portia?” I ask curiously.
“Can we leave Portia out of this? She doesn’t need to know anything about it!”
“All right,” says Derek, raising his hands in surrender. “I just assumed…”
“You assumed wrong, as you often do, lately.” Ashford remarks.
“Anyway, I’m perfectly okay with pretending this never happened. What if my parents knew that I got married for money? It would kill them!”
“Well, can you imagine my mother? If she saw Jemma, she would have herself deported to the colonies!”
“We no longer own colonies,” points out Derek.
“We do, according to her.”
Derek points out the silver lining of the situation. “Cheer up, my friends! All your problems will be gone by tomorrow. Jemma, you will no longer have to worry about looking for a job in cheap theatres. And you, Ashford, you will retain your place in high society with no one any the wiser.”
Ashford looks right into my eyes. “And I’m confident that I will never see you again, after tomorrow.”
My eyes express just as much rancour. “You bet.”
*
How do you get dressed for a fake marriage? I mean, the marriage is real, but the reasons behind it aren’t: I don’t love Ashford, and we have no intention whatsoever of living together.
