Contents ( 71)
- THE
- DAUGHTER
- MICHELLE FRANCES
- PROLOGUE
- ONE
- TWO
- THREE
- FOUR
- FIVE
- SIX
- SEVEN
- EIGHT
- NINE
- TEN
- ELEVEN
- TWELVE
- THIRTEEN
- FOURTEEN
- FIFTEEN
- SIXTEEN
- SEVENTEEN
- EIGHTEEN
- NINETEEN
- TWENTY
- TWENTY-ONE
- TWENTY-TWO
- TWENTY-THREE
- TWENTY-FOUR
- TWENTY-FIVE
- TWENTY-SIX
- TWENTY-SEVEN
- TWENTY-EIGHT
- TWENTY-NINE
- THIRTY
- THIRTY-ONE
- THIRTY-TWO
- THIRTY-THREE
- THIRTY-FOUR
- THIRTY-FIVE
- THIRTY-SIX
- THIRTY-SEVEN
- THIRTY-EIGHT
- THIRTY-NINE
- FORTY
- FORTY-ONE
- FORTY-TWO
- FORTY-THREE
- FORTY-FOUR
- FORTY-FIVE
- FORTY-SIX
- FORTY-SEVEN
- FORTY-EIGHT
- FORTY-NINE
- FIFTY
- FIFTY-ONE
- FIFTY-TWO
- FIFTY-THREE
- FIFTY-FOUR
- FIFTY-FIVE
- FIFTY-SIX
- FIFTY-SEVEN
- FIFTY-EIGHT
- FIFTY-NINE
- SIXTY
- SIXTY-ONE
- SIXTY-TWO
- SIXTY-THREE
- SIXTY-FOUR
- EPILOGUE
- AUTHOR’S NOTE
- ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
FORTY-NINE
2010
They were still in the main hall, but Julia and Violet had moved to another table. It smarted, even though Kate had no desire to sit anywhere near them. She glanced across: Julia was laughing and joking with another mother, someone she seemed to know well. Oh, how I detest her.
The headmistress had been furnished with a gavel and was tapping it on the podium in front of her and calling for quiet so they could begin. The first lot was a bottle of sparkling wine that a pupil was holding aloft.
‘I can vouch for it!’ called out Julia. ‘I made it!’
Confused, Kate looked at Becky.
‘She owns the vineyard,’ whispered Becky. ‘Along with several acres of farmland.’
Kate watched as the bottle went for fifty pounds. On a single bottle of wine! she thought, not quite believing anything could taste that good. She sat drinking her tea, clapping politely as each item got sold off. Mothers were bidding for gifts for their children, prompting squeals of delight when they won. A set of horse-riding lessons. A generous voucher for a fashionable clothing store. They were all part of a club, one that excluded her and Becky.
The headmistress was announcing the next prize: two tickets for the Grand Prix at Silverstone in 2011. Kate’s mouth dropped, of all the . . . The heat rose up in her again as Julia looked over to her table with a mocking smile and then started to bid.
Oh, stuff you, thought Kate, turning away. She bit back her tears and kept her gaze towards the stage. She heard Julia’s yelp of delight as she won, heard her daughter’s exclamations of excitement.
‘And now for our last item,’ said the headmistress. ‘A two-week break at Longueville Manor, the most highly rated hotel in Jersey.’ A picture of a lovingly restored mansion with luxurious gardens flicked up on the screen behind the headmistress.
‘Oh, look, that’s where Uncle John stayed while he was house hunting,’ exclaimed Julia to her daughter.
How her voice grates, thought Kate. The self-satisfied smugness, the sense of entitlement.
‘It’s lovely, everyone,’ Julia called out jokingly and a bubble of laughter erupted in the hall.
Kate sat ram-rod straight, consumed with hostility.
‘So, if I can start the bidding at one hundred pounds?’ asked the headmistress.
Kate raised her hand.
‘Mum?’ asked Becky, startled. ‘What are you doing?’
‘Bidding,’ said Kate through gritted teeth. If she did some overtime, she’d be able to pay for it. It was for Becky, anyway. She’d never taken her anywhere special before, maybe this was one way she could do it.
‘But . . .’
‘Two hundred,’ called a voice.
‘Thank you,’ said the headmistress.
Kate’s heart did a little shudder when she heard Julia speak but she wasn’t going to give up that easily. ‘Five hundred,’ she called, firmly.
Becky looked in alarm at her mother. ‘What?’
‘Shush, Becky,’ said Kate. ‘I need to concentrate.’
‘A thousand,’ said Julia.