Diary of a Mummy Misfit #1 (54 page)

Took my fake Prada to visit Mrs S, content in the knowledge that I’d never have that problem to deal with.

Not a good day for the patient today but the doctors told us that’s quite normal after a hip op on an elderly person.  Pritesh clearly not in complete control of his senses as my comforting words and platonic hugs in the family room were rewarded with a rather clumsy attempt at a
proper
kiss!

Blushing as I write - months of fantasy evaporated as reality failed to live up to my imagination.  No spark whatsoever.  Neddy-man’s the one for me.

Told Pritesh in no uncertain terms that I would forgive him on this occasion but if he ever pulled a stunt like that again I’d most certainly be telling Ned.  Felt a bit mean because he did look decidedly sheepish but I had to put an end to the farce once and for all.

Thursday 25
^th
June

As I write, I feel particularly sick and shaky but hope that getting it down on paper might just help me to process the information. Am wondering if I’ll wake to discover it’s another dream - just as I did this morning when I was relieved to find that I wasn’t at the school gates proudly showing off my Primark carrier bag and telling the mothers how difficult it was to come by one.

This is one dream I hope I don’t wake up from though.

To get down to the nitty-gritty, a letter arrived today from ‘Signore Something-Or-Other’ - who is actually Signore Grimaldi from ‘Grimaldi, Benito and Alvarez Procuratores’ (solicitors).

Far from threatening legal action over parking offences, a formal and polite letter informed me that I, Libby Marchant, of 33 Connaught Street London was sole benefactor of Miss Maisie Mower’s last will and testament.  Deceased.  No other dependants.  Cause of death: stroke.

My fairy godmother has left everything to me!

Included in the envelope was another sealed letter with my Auntie Maisie’s elegant scrawl on the front - ‘To Libby - my Goddaughter’.

It read:

‘My Dear Libby

By the time you read this I will be long gone and floating as a beautiful angel in the sky - allow me my dreams, please!

I’m so sorry that I was denied the opportunity to be the Godmother I had always wanted to be.  You will probably know for yourself by now that your mother is not the easiest woman in the world and, much as I loved her, I found she was making my life a misery with her constant put-downs and insults.  What is it you young people are so fond of saying?  Aggro, I think.  All I ever got from your mother was aggro and I decided I didn’t have to put up with it any more.

My move to Italy was the best thing I ever did and, although I never married, I have led a very happy life and been courted by many debonair gentlemen.

Financially I have been extremely fortunate.  I found that I had a knack for buying and selling properties which kept me quite comfortable.  Also several ‘admirers’ graciously remembered me in their wills - so I’ve never been short of a few bob, as they say.

My one regret in life is that I was unable to be there to fulfil my Christian obligation to look after your welfare and offer guidance, but I’m hoping that I can make up for that now I am gone.

Being a spinster (such a foul word!) I have no family to whom I can bequeath my assets. I could have ended up a batty old dear and left it all to a donkey sanctuary but, remembering your love of animals, I can be almost certain that you will have a mangy old mutt or two living with you by now.  Am I right?

So, dear Libby, everything I have I leave to you and your waifs and strays.  As I write, I have no idea how much will be coming your way but I hope that it will make a difference to your life and you will remember me with fondness.

All best to your harridan of a mother - buy her a stiff G&T from me.

With much love

Auntie Maisie’

I don’t know how many times I’ve read and re-read that letter.  I’ve laughed, I’ve cried and I’ve looked up to the skies and thanked that floating angel.

Ned’s in a state of shock and has just downed his second stiff brandy.

We’ve been left around three quarters of a million pounds and a villa in Tuscany.

Friday 26
^th
June  AM

Didn’t get a lot of sleep last night.  Partly terrified that I
would
wake up and find it had all been a sick joke and partly because I can’t decide between a Hermes Birkin or a modest Dolce & Gabbana.

Joke!

Both Ned and I were quite restrained over breakfast this morning, having wavered between euphoria and disbelief so many times last night.  Think we’re both quietly trying to come to terms with what this actually means to us.  At the moment it’s just a figure and an unknown property but I think the reality will soon start to hit us and once we start jumping for joy, we may never stop.

Called in at Fenella’s on the way back from school and filled her in.

“Holy, fucking hot camel shit, Lib.  OH MY GOD!  It just couldn’t have come at a better time could it?  That’s
unbelievable!”

Told her about my Hermes Birkin/Dolce & Gabbana dilemma and we laughed like drains and knocked back a brandy each at half nine in the morning.

Have to admit it settled my tummy nicely.

PM

As if Ned doesn’t have enough to get his head around - he’s been offered the job!  Not only that, but they’ve asked if he’d mind leaving it until September before starting, although they’ll pay him a retainer.

The Cosmos really has been working overtime in our department!

Which means … we have the whole of the summer to sort out ‘our affairs’
(how posh!)
and to visit our villa in Tuscany to see if we want to keep it on or sell up and possibly buy elsewhere.

Oooh, listen to me!   I sound like a proper ‘Manor Houser’ now!

Saturday 27
^th
June

Mrs S now well on the road to recovery and probably home in a couple of weeks.  Pritesh apologised for his badly misjudged pass and said that he’d have words with his mum about dropping the whole matchmaking business.  He then had the cheek to ask me if I’d pass his mobile number to Gestapo as he‘d been chatting to her at the Christmas fair and found the ice queen act “vindaloo hot”.

Not quite sure that Mrs S will approve but, thankfully, that’s not my problem.  Felt a bit miffed by his choice and also that I could be replaced
quite
so easily but, hey, I’ll still have my dreams.

Had lunch with Ned and Max at a very upmarket restaurant in Mayfair.  Because we could!

Not that we intend to make a habit of it, but we just wanted to see what it felt like - Ned almost had a coronary when he saw the bill before remembering we could afford it.

Walked along to Knightsbridge and popped into Harvey Nicks -
as one does!
 Bought myself a new handbag and it’s not a designer label and didn’t cost many thousands of pounds but … I
liked
it.  Simple!  It cost me one hundred and twenty-seven pounds and it’s more than I’ve ever spent on a handbag in my life.  It’s now been named ‘The Maisie Bag’ and, if it’s possible to love a bag, I love it with all my heart.

Realised that we’ll need to let the school know of our changed status regarding CCL - how utterly ironic to think that, through my windfall, Gestapo may benefit.

Ned and I have agreed that we’d also like to donate a year’s fees to CCL - seems only right and proper and I’m sure Auntie Maisie would approve.

Managed to pluck up the courage to ring Mum and break the news of my good fortune to her.  Think it’s the first time I’ve ever heard her swear.  She ended the conversation with, “Well bugger me, Libby.  The silly little mare came through in the end!”

Sunday 28
^th
June  AM

Lovely family day at home, pottering about in the garden, playing with Lego and having a Sunday roast.

Think it was just what we needed after the excitement of the last few days.

Keep finding Ned in various places in the house, smiling, shaking his head and rubbing his chin in disbelief.

Also caught myself doing exactly the same thing - wonder when the shock will wear off?

PM

Stroked my ‘Maisie Bag’ goodnight and put it on the dressing table so that I could see it first thing in the morning.

I’m posh!

Monday 29
^th
June  AM

Think the reality is slowly hitting now and we’re beginning to realise how this can change our lives.