The Viscounts Daughter

Daddy raised an eyebrow. "For whom? I somehow gathered that from the amount of luggage." He looked at me. "He found out?" I was surprised. Even so, I nodded. "Later." He said.

Later turned out to be sooner, as soon as Charlie had flung her clothes around her room she was out to see the horses. Warlock was no longer, but daddy had bought a young mare and a gelding. He didn't ride much these days but always having a horse or two in the stables made him happy. Charlie would get plenty of opportunities to develop her riding skills. I joined dad in the breakfast room, which is where all family discussions took place. "How did you know, Daddy?"

"Eyes, my dear. You have blue eyes, so does Charles. Charlie has brown eyes. It's not enough to be specific but enough to make one wonder." He reached across the table and held my hand. "I suspected that not everything was good. Why I don't know, but if it has come to this I am neither totally surprised nor upset. I want my daughter to be happy. So are you going to tell me who Charlie's father is?"

"I can't daddy. Charles had me sign a legal document where I agreed to say nothing suggesting that Charlie was not his daughter, or who her father is."

"For the general public possibly, but keeping that from your father, Charlie's grandfather cannot be included in that document. Whoever he is, do you love him, more importantly does he love you?"

"I don't really know. It was a holiday romance if you like. I've never felt like that before."

"Nor since I would imagine."

"Daddy!"

"Don't get all uppity. You're thirty-nine years old. You should be able to talk about sex without blushing by now."

"Even if I were able, I certainly couldn't talk about it with Charles."

"Uptight was he?"

"You could say that, but then so was I."

"So you met wonder man on holiday and flung your inhibitions together with your clothes to the winds."

"Daddy, please?"

"Andrea. You have been married for near on twenty years. You have now turned up expecting me to take you in and don't want to tell me the reasons why. I love you, Andrea, but you don't want to grow old here, looking after your elderly father. You are still young with lots of life ahead of you. I want that life to be as happy as it can possibly get. It may be your lover or it may be another man, but whoever it is, it has to be a man who will run naked over hot coals for you, and for whom you would do the same. Life will be mundane for much of the time, but you have to have those moments where you fling away your inhibitions, society's constraints, and just love. I had that with your mother, we christened pretty well every field in home farm and loved and laughed together. You have to have that to balance ordinary life. Think about it Andrea. If there is a chance you have to take it."

It was easy to settle in my old home. It was like pulling on an old and frequently used sweater. There were newer ones in the drawer, but the old one always felt right. Getting Charlie into the school in Cirencester was no problem, after all, we were paying. The little madam disputed this but her beloved granpops talked her round. A divorce should be a relatively simple procedure when the two in the marriage had talked and agreed.

The solicitor however, thought differently. Almost every week there was another document to be studied and signed. It seemed as if they were inventing problems rather than solving them. I exploded when the solicitor asked for the name of the man who fathered Charlotte. Charles had agreed that this wasn't necessary and I phoned him. Charles never showed temper, yet from his tight voice and abrupt sentences, I knew he was incandescent. "Leave it with me, Andrea. I shall have to have a very pointed discussion with the man."

Charles later wrote to me apologising for the solicitor's impudence. He had believed that by pursuing this line he would save Charles a lot of money in support. He now understood our agreement and that any reference to Charles not being Charlotte's father was removed from all documents. With that, it all went very smoothly. Six months after leaving Charles I was a single woman again. Charlie still had the surname Anstruther, continuing the fiction that Charles was her father.

Daddy would still refer to my mysterious lover, needling me to tell him who it was. Charles and I had agreed not to tell Charlie that he wasn't her father, but as time went on I suspect that she started to doubt. She was boarding at Cirencester and only came home for the weekend twice during the term. Of course, at term's end she would be back with a huge pile of dirty washing and an eagerness to get a horse saddled and ride out as much as possible. She had been at Cirencester for eighteen months when she came home at term's end and for a day or two, she was very quiet and a little troubled. This phase ended when she tackled me at breakfast. "Mum, if I ask you a question will you tell me the truth?"

"Yes." I answered innocently.

"Is father my real father?" Charles had never allowed diminutives so he was always father not dad.

I thought quickly, but I had agreed to tell her the truth. Charlie was approaching thirteen so I guess she should be told the truth. I sighed. "Go and find granpops and we'll have a little talk." She looked at me curiously and went off to find her grandfather.

A grumbling granpops was dragged in by Charlie. His grumbles were only playacting as she could twist him around her little finger. "Sit down, granpops. Mummy has something to say."

I was blushing as I prepared to tell the truth. "The answer to your question, Charlie is no. Charles is not your real father." Telling a child this should have been answered by the child's tears. Not Charlie though, confirming my suspicion that she had worked that out for herself. I cleared my throat as I went on to the difficult bit. "Your real father is Richard Leigh."

There was silence for a moment and then Charlie gasped. "Richard Leigh, the film star?" I nodded. She had a beatific expression as she took it in. "Oh my God! This is fantastic. Richard Leigh, my dad. I can't wait to tell the girls as school, they all drool over him. Oh mum this is so cool."

I held up my hand to stop this exultation. "Charlie, you cannot tell them at school. Not ever. I agreed with Charles that there will be no word or inference that even suggests that he is not your father."

Charlie's face fell. "I can't say anything?"

"No."

Daddy then said something that frightened me. "Don't you think that Mr. and Mrs. Carter should know. I am presuming that Richard Leigh is in real life Richard Carter. I am sure that they would like to know they have a granddaughter."

"Daddy. Richard doesn't know."

"Well, girl. I suggest it's about time you tell him. He has a right to know."

This was one of those tangled webs we weave. I would love for Rich to know. I would love for him to meet his daughter. For everyone who knows, the more people who have to be bound into silence and once a secret has been told, it is no longer a secret. Daddy made my mind up for me. "It's Mr. and Mrs. Carter's golden wedding in two weeks. I know there's a party on and I shall have to show my face. I am sure that Richard will be there. I think I shall ask him up here. I won't say anything, Andrea that's up to you. For what my opinion is worth I think he should meet his daughter at the very least."

CHAPTER 5 - RICHARD

The film in the desert did not do too well; it very quickly went to DVD. The premiere in London would not rate Leicester Square nor did it rate a top cinema in Berlin. Helmut offered me his sister in law as escort for me at the Berlin premiere. She was his wife's sister. Together they would have stopped an infantry brigade. Tall, blonde, statuesque and both possessed of high and mighty breasts. After the premiere we went for a meal and then to Helmut's home for 'one more drink ja?' One more drink became another drink until we all had a pleasant glow.

I wasn't drunk. Lisa, Helmut's wife made sure of that. Even so, when Helmut wished me goodnight and disappeared with Helga his sister in law I was a little surprised. Lisa didn't turn a hair. She loosened her dress and first one, then the other mammary came into view. They were wonders of nature and not a sign of synthetic anywhere. The dress continued its journey to the floor and Lisa stood there in all her glory, and glory it was. "Ve haf some fun, Richard ja?" We did have some fun and I was not going to let the flag down in yet another England v Germany encounter.

It was twelve years after Andrea. I had fallen into the habit of viewing my days with Andrea as an epiphany, time before Andrea was history, and time after her was real time. I had to be realistic and understood that I would never meet her again, even though I yearned for that. I was a very busy actor, it appeared that Ashley's prediction was correct. No sooner had I finished with a film then another script landed on my doormat. Of course, they were not all for cinema. Many were for television dramas. I had no problem with that, as it appeared that for me exposure generated more work. Once more, I was reminded of the positives of not being the star. Apart from how the screenplay would be viewed, there was little difference in the process. Locations could be anywhere in the world, I had worked in the U.K. of course, but also in Eastern Europe, Australia, South Africa, Norway and India. I was frozen in Norway and had a severe reaction to the food in India.

I had deliberately made some space in my schedule to go back to Broughley for my parents Golden Wedding. If I didn't turn up, I would not hear the end of it from my mother who would bring up my absence at any time I saw her. Would there be a chance to see Andrea? I wished that but knew in my heart that I wouldn't. She was with her husband in London. The party was low-key but enjoyable for all that. It was good to meet old acquaintances and re-discover the things about people that made you like them. One old codger, Harry Bate challenged me. "All right young Carter. When are you going to pay me for that bloody motorbike then?" His accent was very rural, 'all' came out as orl, and 'bloody' came out as bleddy.

"It wasn't your bike in the first place, Harry. I remember asking you at the time and you said it was nothing to do with you."

"You did? Reckon I was drunk at the time then. Get me a drink and we'll call it quits."

A touch on my shoulder brought me round and I was face to face with Viscount Seddon. "Viscount Seddon. It is a pleasure to see you here."

"Well young man, your father has been a tower of strength for years, and your mother even more so for putting up with your father, so it would be remiss of me not come and offer my congratulations." He grinned. "And how is our home grown film star these days. I wanted to meet your wife, Have you brought her?"

"I am well, Sir. Quite busy, thankfully. I'm sorry to disappoint you, I am not married."

"I didn't think you would say that, every time I switch on the television there's some bloody film on with you in it with some gorgeous lovely all over you. I was sure you would have married one." His face crinkled so I knew he was joking. "Look. I have paid my compliments to your parents and I won't stay, else I will put a damper on the festivities. Come up to the house tomorrow morning. We'll have some coffee and you can tell me about all those lovely starlets you must have had lying under you. About ten thirty suit you.?" Then he was gone without my being able to reply.

I drove up to Viscount Seddon's home. He must have been waiting for me as he opened the door immediately I arrived. "Come in Richard. I'll get some coffee organised and we'll have it the front room." He indicated the door, then scuttled off, presumably to arrange to coffee. I was uncomfortable. Viscount Seddon had dealings with my father on a regular basis. I had seen him often when I was younger but not to talk to. Now he was treating me as an old friend and I was a little out of my depth. I turned the handle and peeked in. From my perspective, the room was empty and gathering courage I walked in.

My intuition told me that he had not invited me here to talk about my supposed conquest of those lovely starlets. It did occur to me that he may have had somehow learned of the episode of Andrea and me in South Devon. He couldn't play the part of the outraged father, after all Andrea was over twenty-one. Nonetheless, he could make me aware of his displeasure and I worried that he could turn that displeasure upon my father. I braced myself as the door opened. Andrea walked in wearing that lovely smile of hers. "Hello Rich." I must have worn a look of shock and she giggled, then took a step towards me, I took a faltering step towards her. She took another step and I, with more confidence took two. The last steps for both were taken hurriedly as I opened my arms and she ran into my embrace.

That embrace lasted, neither of us wanting to give way. Was it two seconds, two minutes or ten minutes? I had no idea except that Andrea was in my arms again and she was weeping. I released her and found my handkerchief. I wiped her eyes then she took the handkerchief and blew her nose. "Who would be a woman? I am so happy to see you again, Rich and I have to cry ruining our re-union."

"I should apologise, Andrea. Seeing you again was the last thought I would have had and I reacted instinctively. Is your husband here?"

She shook her head smiling and tears flicked. "No, Rich. I no longer have a husband. I am divorced."

"Oh. Should I be sorry?"

"Whether you're sorry is up to you. I'm not."

"If you are not sorry, then neither am I. May I ask why?"

"Because my husband found out that I had committed adultery."

It shouldn't have, but I felt hurt that Andrea would have been with another man. Not for one moment did I think that the reason for her divorce was her behaviour with me, after all that was twelve years ago. "Did you love this man?" I asked naively.

"It was a lot more than friendship. I had a deep attachment to him and now I am in his arms again I still have that deep attachment."

"Me?" I was astounded and yet a little flame of hope grew inside me. "But that was thirteen years ago. How did your husband find out after all that time?"

She smiled. "I think you should meet someone." She went to the door and opened it. She called out. "Charlie!" Leaving the door open, she came back to me. A very pretty girl in her early teens came into the room. "What is it, Mum." She asked rather testily. Then she saw me."Oh!"

"Rich. This is your daughter, Charlotte, known as Charlie."

There are many words in the English language to describe the shock I had just received. Thunderstruck, bowled over, gobsmacked are just three, but they described my countenance at that moment. I had acted this emotion on more than one occasion, but I had never experienced it as such. I knew then my portrayal of the emotion was lacking. Charlie did not seem to be surprised as I as she and her mother watched me with a seemingly detached attitude. At last, I was able to pull myself together. "My daughter?" Andrea and Charlie both nodded.

I then asked the most stupid of questions. "But how?"

Andrea giggled and asked if she would have to explain as Charlie, laughing said "Oh daddy!" That word brought me out of my extraordinary fog. Daddy! My daughter had called me daddy. Charlie advanced and held out her hand as if for me to shake. I shook my head and opened my arms and the girl, smiling walked into my arms. The emotions ran high as I cuddled my daughter. I looked over to Andrea and tears slipped softly and quietly down her cheeks. I held Charlie with one arm and offered the other to Andrea and she came into the group cuddle.

Novelists and scriptwriters would have used words that suggested my life should now be complete with a lover and a daughter. Andrea in everything she said and her actions indicated that she wanted to be my lover and that she was happy that her daughter had been sired by me. I, having this situation bounced upon me without preparation was in turmoil. Not for having Andrea back in my life, nor for having this lovely young girl call me daddy. My turmoil was because I didn't know how to be a father.

Most men learn this difficult role over years, from the birth of their progeny, adapting and growing into the role as their children grow up. I was presented with a lovely girl on the cusp of adulthood who had already developed character. How could I guide her through these formative years? My musing was interrupted by Viscount Seddon who chose this moment to enter the room, followed by the housekeeper carrying the tray with coffee. "Well young man. Now you have met your daughter, what do you think?"

"I have never had such a lovely surprise in my life, Sir."

"She'll run you ragged you know."

"Granpops!" Charlie exclaimed. "I will be very good. After all none of my friends at school will have a film star as a daddy. I will be the girl that all the others will want for a friend."

"Now that is something we have to discuss." Remarked the Viscount seriously. Andrea had been pouring coffee. She gave me a cup without asking how I took coffee. The Viscount noted that. "See that, Charlie. Your mum doesn't need to ask how he takes his coffee. It's sickening. Your grandmother could never remember if I wanted sugar or not, even after twelve years together." Andrea blushed and smiled.

We sat down and the Viscount broached the subject that needed discussion. "As part of the divorce settlement, Charles had Andrea sign a document preventing her from broadcasting or suggesting in any way that he wasn't the father of Charlie. He believed it would be injurious to his reputation if it became common knowledge. In other words he doesn't want to be labelled a cuckold. That means, Charlie you will have to forgo your celebrity at school. I would suggest you refer to Richard as your mother's good friend. You will still have a lot of friends but not as many as you thought." Charlie pulled a face.

"Charlie!" Andrea got her attention. "You are old enough to understand why. Charles was a good father when he thought you were his daughter and he didn't take against you when he knew you weren't. We must respect his wishes."

"It's unfair, Mum. I meet my real father and within a minute he was hugging me. That's what real fathers do. Charles never hugged me in all of my life. It's unfair to me and to daddy, that he cannot call me his daughter."

I indicated to Charlie that she should come and sit with me. I put my arm around her shoulder and spoke to her softly. "Charlie, we know the truth. Your mum's husband was not a bad man and he did his best for you. Men guard their self-respect and if others learn that a man's wife has been sleeping with someone else it demeans their dignity; making the husband a laughing stock. I fell in love with your mother all those years ago and knew that she would be intimate with Charles when she returned home. That hurt me, it brought tears to my eyes and I had no right to that emotion for she belonged to another. I can understand Charles' feelings. I have hurt him, although he didn't know at the time. Now for his sake and mine I have to bite my tongue. Let it be, Charlie. Let him keep his self-respect. I will call you daughter with pride and love but it can only be amongst our family"

Andrea had joined us we sat on the settee, kneeling down she took Charlie's hand. "What Rich and I did was very wrong, Charlie. Call this our punishment if you will and I am sorry that you have to be involved in that. Rich is right. We have to leave Charles with his self-respect."

Charlie did not like it, but she acquiesced. I hugged her to show my gratitude for her behaving as an adult. "I have some publicity shots. If you like I will sign them and you can give them to your friends, and those who want to be your friend. You can tell them that I am a good friend of your mother." Charlie's face lit up.