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ONE
This Is Me
FRANCESCA
My porch. Breathe in and out.
My rocking chair. Breathe in and out.
My view. Breathe in and out.
My home. Breathe in and out.
Peace.
I close my eyes and inhale the warmth of the summer breeze and let the sun’s rays beam down on me. It’s only taken an ocean’s distance, three very expensive lawyers, and a quarter of a million dollars in renovation fees to finally find the elusive quiet that I hope to savor for eternity.
My stepfather’s last name is synonymous with corruption in Britain and most of Europe. He would have been convicted in the United States as well if the fink hadn’t escaped to Moldova, where he’s now hiding. He took his new young wife, leaving me to answer the millions of questions from the authorities and to suffer under scrutiny for over a year.
My mother’s family is wealthy in its own right, and I have enough money to live several lifetimes without worry. Family money comes with expectations and responsibilities, though. It also comes with judgment. I was a darling daughter of Phoebe Deleigh, of Deleigh Holdings. The collection of companies under the umbrella includes everything from oil and construction to perfumes and cosmetics.
Mom married Jessop Cannington after being a widow for over five years. When I was a baby, Dad died in a plane crash while on a business trip. He was desperate to come home to his wife and child, but the plane had technical issues and went down. There were seven people on the flight, including the crew members, and none made it home alive.
I was five years old when my mother walked down the aisle. Even at five, I knew that Jessop wasn’t the man everyone thought he was, but my mother loved him, and I loved my mother. My Grandparents made sure I went to the best schools and was introduced to society in a grand manner. It was also my grandparents, who saw Jessop for what he was and cut my mother off, except for a generous allowance.
That allowed us to live comfortably for the most part, but it also drove a wedge between Mom and her family. I was in college when Mom fell ill. Grandma Nora and Grandad Ian became my rocks. Not only did they pay for the best medical treatments and personal care for my mother, but they became my world.
Jessop, on the other hand, at first played the part of the devoted husband. That wore off quickly when the doctors told us that Mom would get progressively worse and that the muscular dystrophy would eventually take her from us. Jessop’s golden goose was gone. He spent the next three years filling his pockets and building his reputation in the business world. Little did his business partners know that it was all smoke and mirrors.
Jessop played the grieving widower, appealing to any unsuspecting soul who’d believe him. I moved in with my grandparents because I couldn’t take his hypocrisy any longer, especially when I found out he was dating a girl around my age.
I kept my distance from Jessop as much as I could, but that wasn’t always possible. That was my mistake. For appearance’s sake, I would occasionally meet him for lunch and celebrate his birthday with him. I played the dutiful stepdaughter, even when he decided to remarry, and, like an idiot, I was one of the bridesmaids at their wedding.
Grandad Ian was a very intelligent and shrewd man, and he changed his will, leaving me everything as his sole heir. Several years after my mother’s death, Grandma Nora died from a massive stroke. My Grandparents had no other children, and when Grandad Ian passed last year, at the height of the investigation into the fraud charges against Jessop, I inherited everything. The police, naturally, assumed that the Deleigh companies were integrated into his mess.
I still attribute my grandfather’s death to the stressful situation we were forced to endure. In the end, as I already knew, the Deleigh companies were cleared of all the dirty money Jessop was laundering. My grandfather never trusted Jessop and would never allow him anywhere near the companies that our family had built through the years.
However, the damage was done, and the best way now to deal with salvaging my sanity is to leave the business dealings to the boards of the organizations and to make myself present when required. The lawyers I hired have found legal representation here for me, and headed by the corporate bigwigs, the companies will continue to thrive.
I don’t care about the money, but I do care about our employees and their families’ security. Grandad taught me that it’s our obligation to give the best of ourselves back to those who work with the organization. It doesn’t matter what title we have, we’re all still people doing the best we can. Some of my best times were when Grandad Ian would take me to work with him to visit with everyone. I spent summers working at the different offices and learning all I could.
I thought I’d live in England forever, following in my grandfather’s footsteps, but Jessop screwed things up so badly that, for my own peace of mind, I needed to leave the country I called home.
So here I am, in the United States, where my father, Christopher Rawlings, was from. Mom told me wonderful stories about my father and how they met when he came to England on business and fell madly in love at first sight.
I thought about changing my name to Rawlings, but I refuse to be bullied by the paparazzi and decided that as much as I respect the stories about my father, I never really knew him, whereas my mother and grandparents raised me and loved me. Mom also thought that I would have more doors open for me with my mother’s surname. I stuck with the Deleigh name, and I will wear it proudly.
I’m ready for new beginnings, starting with my recently renovated home. I should get inside and start unpacking, but the sun beckons. Just a little longer; the boxes aren’t going anywhere, I decide.
TWO
Unpacking
HAMMER
I watch her for over an hour, and when she finally decides to go inside, the silhouette from the window shows her opening boxes, taking out each individually wrapped treasure, and setting it aside with loving care. Francesca is an enigma. Why would a woman with this much money come to a tiny town? To hide, of course. But from what?
Even from my room at the compound, I can see her house, and for some strange reason, I only settle into my bed once the lights in Francesca’s home are turned off.
