Page 32 of Jessica Beam is a Hot Mess
Chapter Ten
Gossip is inelegant. A Good Woman minds her own business.
Matilda Beam’sGood Woman Guide, 1959
‘This will be your room for the night.’ Peach opens a door on the second floor and shows me inside.
‘Oh no!’ I whisper, jogging backwards out of the bedroom with a terrified moan. I’ve never moaned in fright before, but this shit just got real. The room is filled with dolls. Not cute, toy dolls that wee themselves like you have when you’re a kid, but those serious-looking oldey-timey porcelain dolls that are as creepy as hell. There are loads of them lined up against the three huge floor-to-ceiling windows and sitting on top of a set of antique drawers. At least twenty of them are standing on the hardwood floors in various positions of activity. One of the dolls is holding a tiny doll replica of itself. I am gripped by fear.
‘Why?’ I say, venturing cautiously back inside. ‘Why so many dolls? Why would anyone do this?’
Peach gives a small shrug. ‘I don’t know. But I think they’re awful cute. That one’s my favourite. I call her Felicity.’ She points to a ringletted brunette doll sitting on a human-sized gold and blue striped armchair. It’s wearing little glass glasses and looking worriedly into a small book. I hate it. I hate Felicity.
The centre of the room holds what I suspect is London’s largest bed. It’s triple the size of my bed in Manchester and has a massive cushioned headboard upholstered in silk, the colour of which Summer would refer to asdove grey. Ordinarily I’d take a run up and fling myself onto it, have a good bounce. But after everything that’s happened today, I’m just not in the mood.
‘Well, that was fucking weird.’ I lie down on the bed, arms and legs spread out like a starfish. ‘I feel like I’m in some ridiculous abstract nightmare. Matilda Beam is crazy. I can’t believe we’re related. No offence. I mean, what was she talking about, “fixing me” and “redeeming herself”. She’s odd isn’t she?’
‘Oh, that’s just her way,’ Peach says softly, delicately emptying my bag of clothes. I offer to help, but she shakes her head no. ‘Matilda feels things very strongly. She’s a woman who is full of heart.’
‘Notthatfull of heart,’ I grumble. ‘I don’t mean to self–pity, but I lost my house and my best mate and my jobandmy − my pride today. I only wanted to borrow a bit of money, which she clearly has loads of and which I absolutely would have paid back, and she said no. Just like that! Without even a thought!’
‘Oh no, that’s nothin’ to do with you. Matilda Beam is completely and utterly broke.’ Peach suddenly clasps my blue lacy top to her bosom and uses the other hand to clamp to her head. ‘Oh jeepers. I didnotmean to let that slip. Please forget I said anything. Oh d-dear.’
I sit up again.
‘Broke? Grandma isskint?’ I indicate the grand room, the fancy antique furniture. ‘How?’
‘Hmmm.’ Peach frowns, loping over to the huge window and opening a balcony door. ‘I’ll let some air in, shall I?’
‘Oi, don’t worry.’ I scooch over to the edge of the bed and dangle my legs off. ‘You can tell me!’ I do my trustworthy smile. ‘I’m part of thefamily. I have a right to know. Plus I’m leaving not tomorrow but the day after. She’ll never know you told me. Come on. Why is she broke? Isn’t this house worth, like, a million quid?’
‘Five million,’ Peach replies promptly, a look of guilt flitting across her earnest face. She looks down. ‘Oh dear, I really shouldn’t … Mrs Beam always says that gossip is the height of inelegance.’
‘Er, it’s not gossip if it’strue, though. Tell me, Lady P!’
She smiles slightly at the nickname, her defences wilting. ‘I … I guess youareleaving soon … ’
‘No diggity, no doubt, I will be out of here in two days.’
‘Oh … all right then, I suppose it won’t do any harm. Well, you see, the truth is that Jack, your grandpa, left Matilda with an awful debt. He was a drinker, made some terrible investments over the years and lost all of their money.’ She hesitates. ‘I don’t think I should be … ’
‘Go on, Lady P, don’t worry.’
She bites her lip. ‘W-well … When he died, Matilda sold the bottom floor and remortgaged the rest so that she could pay off the enormous debts, and what was left she has used to keep going. But now the money has almost completely run out.’
‘Shit.’ I blink. Mr Belding – who has followed me upstairs – climbs onto my lap and I idly stroke his ears. ‘Why doesn’t she just move house? It must cost a fortune to run this place. She should just sell up. I don’t get what the big deal is.’
Peach nods, eyes wide. ‘You’re right, the bills here are huge, but Matilda Beam is, well, she’s about as stubborn as a mule. She won’t give up this house. It’s been in the Beam family for years and years andthensome. It was supposed to be passed down to her daughter and their daughter and—’
‘Me! The daughter’s daughter, that’s me!’
Peach gasps. ‘Of course, I guess it is.’
‘This house could possibly one day be mine?’ I jump up from the bed and walk around the room, trying my best to ignore the dolls. I get a vision of me as lady of the manor. Wafting about like I own the place, which I would. I could throw some truly game-changing parties in this house.
Peach gives me a grave look and I realize that my fantasizing is pretty inappropriate, given the story she’s telling me.
I lean forward. ‘How do you know all the goss anyway?’
