Nine Steps to Sara

“
R
epeat after me
,
I am Sara J
.
Darling
,
millionaire.  I own a mansion and a yacht
.”

The corner of Sara’s mouth tilted up into a faint smile as she conjured images of Elmer Fudd going through psychoanalysis to cure him of
his
rabbitosis
.
  “
I don’t own a yacht
.”

“
You could own a yacht…
” Joanie’s
green
eyes darted to the dark window for a brief squint before they returned to regard Sara steadily.  “Y
ou
don’t know
.”

“
That’s true, I suppose,
” Sara allowed, leaning back against the supple leather seats of the chauffeured Mercedes.  Despite the fact that the car was at least thirty years old by the body style, it’d obviously been kept in mint condition and still impressed the hell out of her.  It was the first time she’d ridden in a car that cost more than her college education and for sure was the first time she’d been driven around in the back seat
,
unless she counted the time she took a cab to the hospital on the night Jack was born (but somehow, she didn’t think that fell into quite the same category). 

Joanie had a good point though, she had very little understanding of her inheritance so far, only that it was big enough to earn her a plane ride and an all expense paid trip to
England
in style
,
and there was a
manor house
somewhere in the countryside with a family history she knew nothing about.  After the year she’d
had
, it hadn’t taken more than thirty seconds to decide to go check it out, especially when her best friend offered to come along for the ride.  Still, Joanie’s excited speculation had spilled into the ridiculous after so many hours spent traveling. 

“W
hy would I have a yacht?  It’s a land locked estate.
”
  Probably.  There could be a lake, she supposed.  If she hadn’t been so excited to get the heck out of town, she might have asked a few more questions.  As it was, she had a vague sense the estate was somewhere in the south, but that was about it.

Joanie waved her hand back and forth, unconcerned with logic.  “
So
?
England
is basically an island.  It’s like a nothing commute to get to the water
.”

A s
nort
came
from
the
front
seat
, and Sara looked up to
catch a flash of the driver’s grin.  “
I’m not too sure about that,
” she murmured, looking out the window, but she couldn’t penetrate the gloomy fog apart from the occasional glimpse of an empty paddock or a copse of dark trees.  “W
e’ve been driving an awful long time.
”

“You’re telling me, I shouldn’t have had those drinks on the train,” Joanie muttered, shifting in her seat.  “
Excuse me
,
driver?
” she leaned forward, bright auburn hair glowing as it caught in the dashboard lights.  “
How much longer is this gonna take?
”

“
Just until we arrive, Miss.
”
 

“Okay, thanks,” Joanie slumped back against the seat and
Sara
looked up
again
, teeth pressed against the inside of her lips to keep from laughing as she caught
his
wink
in the rearview mirror
.
 
Had he introduced himself?  Sara couldn’t be sure with all the rigmarole to get their luggage to the car and make sure Jack didn’t go wandering off on his own. 
What he must think of them…
Sara wasn’t sure what to expect from the locals yet.  Would they accept her as the new heir or did they have their hopes set on a different disposition for the estate?  Would they even care?  It wasn’t clear how much her family’s estate was tied up in the local community, but for a town called
Darlington
, she imagined it was close. 

Incapable of maintaining silence for more than a few minutes, Joanie snuck her way back onto Sara’s train of thought.  “
What is a Baronet anyway?  Is it like a baby Baron?”

“Near as I can tell it’s not as high up as a Baron; it just means Jack will have to get used to being called Sir.”

“That makes you a Lady I guess, huh?”

“I suppose so,” Sara smiled faintly at the tinge of jealousy in Joanie’s voice.

“
T
hank G
od you got the call after your divorce came through
,” she said, out of the blue.

“What?” Sara blinked,
not tracking the change in subject right away.
  “O
h
,
I don’t know, I could have used the luck
a little earlier in the game.”  When she thought of the tiny little apartment
th
e
y
’d been crammed into for the past six months… the call couldn’t have come
soon enough
.

“
Are you kidding me?
Peter would have pissed it all away inside of a year
.”

“
Joanie!
”
she exclaimed, somewhere between a whisper and a hiss.

“
What?
”

“
Shh, I don't want him to hear you
,” Sara scowled, even if it was true. 

“Oh p
lease, you know Jack can sleep through a hurri
cane,” Joanie demonstrated by poking the boy in the ribs with no response.  But for the slight rise and fall of his chest,
Jackson
appeared dead to the world. 
 

“Still…”
Sara look
ed
down at her sleeping son
,
slumped over
o
n the seat between them.  Small for a boy of eight,
his dark brown hair was the exact shade
as
hers,
blue eyes hidden behind round glasses that slipped low on his nose in his present position. 
Despite the fact that she knew he wasn’t listening, it didn’t feel right to talk about his father with him right there, even if she did agree with her friend’s opinion of the guy. 

“
I'm just saying, it gives me a happy to think he won't get his
hands on all your
money.
  Can you imagine Peter with some serious cash behind him?” a roll of the eyes was given. 

“I’m having a hard enough time picturing
me
with money,” Sara answered diplomatically, hoping to change the subject.  For the next twenty minutes they chatted about what might be waiting for them at the end of their journey.  Joanie seemed to think they’d land in an episode of Downton Abbey; the liveried servants lined up in front of the building, neatly dressed and pressed to greet her. 
Sara couldn’t imagin
e
owning something so large; she was convinced it’
d
be more along the lines of a cottage with some pretty gardens.  At least she hoped so; gardening was one of the few things she missed about the three bedroom split level home in LA.