Even the clickity-clack of keyboards seemed muted in the vast, open hall of the library as people searched industriously for the answers they were seeking. For Della Clarke, unfortunately, answers were hard to come by. But, today, today was different. Elation was rushing through her veins as she read and re-read the email from Margaret Pritcher, the genealogist that she’d hired. It read: Dear Ms. Clarke, after considerable efforts, I have managed to locate several of your DNA relatives, all of whom live in the town of Berwick-upon-Tweed, United Kingdom. I can’t give you names or addresses, unfortunately, given the legalities, but at least I can lead you to the general area, more or less. The rest is up to you. Perhaps you might consider a visit to Berwick-upon-Tweed, where you can access their records in more detail. Do let me know what you decide, and I sincerely hope you find the family connections you are searching for. Sincerely, Margaret Pritcher.

Della had known that her mother, Allison Clarke, had grown up in the north of England, and that she’d come to the States alone, and pregnant with her, but that was all that her mother been willing to share, and every time Della had asked for more, her mother had always quickly changed the subject, saying it wasn’t worth talking about.

She’d lost her mother two years ago, and during that time, her longing to reach out had only grown stronger. She was tired of being lonely. She wanted lunch dates and family reunions, family pictures and Christmas Eve dinners. She wanted a family.

*************************************************************************************************************************

Two weeks later, Della drove her rental car through the town of Berwick-upon-Tweed, on her way to meet the genealogist that Margaret Pritcher had recommended that she meet with.

“Damn!” she exclaimed, as she drove right past the little sign that read, ‘Ye Olde Merry Swine.’ An onslaught of car horns warned her as she fought to get in the turn lane so that she could have another go at it, but by the time she finally found a spot to park in the small lot behind the pub, Della was sweating like an olde merry swine herself.

She supposed she’d always thought a British pub would be dark and smell of ale, but the interior of this one was surprisingly bright and warm, and smelled of herbs, baking pies, and sizzling sausages.

“Take a seat, I’ll be right with ya.” a purple haired woman with a tattoo sleeve scurried past her, carrying a tray of drinks to a table of four.

Della scanned the room, searching for a woman that was sitting alone. She spotted a middle aged woman waving hesitantly at her from across the room. Della approached her, just as hesitantly.

“Della Clarke?” the woman asked.

Della nodded.

The woman smiled, “Welcome to England. I’m Harriet Williams. Please, have a seat.”

Della sat down at the table, “Thank you for meeting with me, Ms. Williams…”

“Call me Harriet, and I assure you, it was quite exciting getting a call from a fellow genealogist asking for my assistance.”

“Oh? That’s good then,” Della watched as the harried waitress approached their table, “I don’t want to be a bother.”

“What can I get you?” the waitress asked, her pen already on the order pad.

“Uh, I’m not sure…”

“You should have the daily special, dear,” Harriet declared, seeing Della’s flustered expression, “It’s what I’m having.”

“I’ll have what she’s having then.” Della announced.

“Good choice. I’ll bring yours and Harriet’s out together.”

“Thanks, Phoebe.”

As the waitress zipped off, Della asked, “You know her?”

“Phoebe? Sure. We’re in the same book club,” Harriet leaned closer and said with a wink, “Actually, it’s more of a wine club, honestly, but we have been known to read the odd book, here and there.”

On the outside, Della smiled, but on the inside, she just felt a twinge of jealousy; her own life was so devoid of anything so fun as a book club. But, that was why she was here, to find somewhere that she belonged, to find a family.

Harriet pulled a folder out of her tote and placed it on the table, while Della looked on with what she could only call the tingles. There, in that simple manila folder, was information about her people, and she could hardly contain herself.

“Now, Margaret Pritcher did send me your mother’s details, and I was able to find her birth records. She was born here, in Berwick-upon-Tweed, and you actually have some family members that still reside here, but it’s not a large family, I should warn you.”

“It’s fine,” Della assured her, “I’m just so grateful to have a chance to meet them.”

“About that,” Harriet sighed as she flipped open the folder, “I did make a few calls. I was hoping to set up a few meetings with your family members, but I’m gutted to inform you that they weren’t exactly willing to do so…”

“They weren’t? But…”

“Look, Della, I wouldn’t take it to heart. Some people just need time to take it all in, is all. Now, I have some names for you. There’s your grandmother, Eloise Clarke. She’s your mother’s mother. And I also found your uncle, Howard Clarke, and a few cousins…”

“Cousins?”

“Let me see,” Harriet studied what looked like a very abbreviated family tree, “Annabel Jones, and Freddie Clarke.”

“Freddie Clarke?” Phoebe, the waitress asked, as she sat two plates of pub pies and two pints of ale down on the table, “What business do you have with him, Harriet?”

“You know him?”

“Sure. He comes in every now and again and has a few pints. Went to school with him,” Phoebe leaned over their table, “Bit of a dodgy bloke, if you ask me,” she raised back up, “But, you didn’t ask me, did ya?”

“Actually, do you happen to know where he lives?” Della asked her, ever hopeful.

“Nah, but I know someone who might. Let me give em’ a ring and I’ll let you know what I find out.”

As Phoebe walked away, Della watched Harriet use her fork to break through the top crust of her pie. Steam billowed invitingly out as the pastry fell away, revealing big chunks of carrots, onions, mushrooms, and tender beef. Della’s stomach growled so loudly that she was convinced the entire pub could hear it.

“It’s good that Phoebe might have an address for you. I can’t legally give you their addresses, you know, but I can certainly give you your family tree and let you know that any relatives you find on it might be listed in the phone book.”

“I appreciate that so much.” Della started eating, trying to contain a moan of delight as the flavorful beef melted in her mouth.

“Good, isn’t it?” Harriet chuckled.

They ate companionably as Harriet asked about her flight and where she was staying. Eventually, the pub traffic died down and a frazzled, Phoebe finally pulled a chair over to their table and collapsed into it with an exhausted sigh.

“I’m knackered. I swear, if I didn’t want another sleeve, I’d have quit this bloody job long ago.”

“You could always stop now, dear,” Harriet clucked, somewhat disapprovingly, “You have plenty of those tattoos already, I should say.”

“Harriet, you need to live a little,” Phoebe gave Della a wink, “We can meet up tonight, have a few drinks and go get matching tattoos, just for the hell of it.”

Della almost spit out her ale at the horrified expression that appeared on the older woman’s face.

“You know I’m just being cheeky, luv,” Phoebe suddenly stood up and searched her apron pocket, “I almost forgot,” she handed Della a piece of paper, “Here’s Freddie’s address. Got it from a bloke who hangs with him,” she sat back down, “Can I ask what you want to see him about?”

“Harriet tells me that he’s my cousin, though I’ve never met him.”

“That right? Well, best of luck to ya,” Phoebe stood up again, “Wish I could stay and chat but I’ve got to pick Davin up from preschool. And, Harriet, I’ll see you later this week.”

“That’s right, dear, we’ll see you then, and thank you for getting Freddie’s address for us.”

As Phoebe left, Della stared down at the address, her mind spinning with possibility. This one piece of paper could lead to the family that she’d been wanting all her life. All she had to do was reach out. Was she ready?

“I’ll leave you with this,” Harriet was saying, “And I’ve put my card in there as well, so if you have any questions, don’t hesitate to call me,” she smiled warmly as she reached for the check, “And lunch is on me, dear.”

*************************************************************************************************************************

The taxi pulled up outside the row of posh flats as Della struggled with anxiety in the back seat. She was here. It was time to meet her cousin, but she didn’t know what to expect, so her mind was giving equal billing to every possible scenario she could dream up, and it was exhausting.

“Did you want me to wait?” the driver asked her.

“No, that won’t be necessary.” Della answered as she paid and hopped out of the taxi. She’d opted to take a taxi instead of driving her rental car because she had quickly discovered that finding parking was almost impossible unless you were a local and knew all the secrets. She stopped on the sidewalk and stared up at the building. This was it. She climbed the stairs and used the lion’s head door knocker to announce her presence. She heard loud, 90’s era, rap music being turned down, and then footsteps. The door whipped open.

“Yeah?” the man asked.

Della’s eyes searched his face, looking for a family resemblance. He was tall and lanky, with her own round eyes and slightly turned down lips.

“Uh, hi, uh…”

The man closed the door on her.

Stunned, Della rapped on the door again.

The door whipped open again, “I don’t have all day, so what is it you want from me?” he asked, harshly.

Fearing that she would miss her chance, Della said, “I…I’m your cousin.”

The man’s expression didn’t change.

“I’m Della Clarke. From America.”

“I don’t have a cousin from America.”

“Yes, you do. Me. I’m your cousin. My mom is… was, Allison Clarke.”

“Was?”

“She, uh… she passed away.”

“Well, bloody sorry to hear that, but you can bugger off cause I got no need for a cousin.” He closed the door in her face once again.

Tears stung Della’s eyes as she stared at the lion’s head door knocker. This was not how she had anticipated this to go, exactly. She lifted her hand to knock again, but hesitated. What if he called the police on her? It wasn’t out of the realm of possibility, was it? And what would she say to them if he did?

Dejected, Della stomped down the stairs just as a light rain began to fall, “Wonderful. That’s just wonderful.” she arched her head back and stared murderously up at the sky.

***************************************************************************************************************************

By the time Della got back to the B&B, she was cold, damp, and tired. She took a hot shower and got dressed for dinner, trying to decide between going out to a pub, or staying in and having dinner with Charlie and Hazel Anderson, the owners of the B&B, who seemed like a lovely couple. They had told her when she checked in that she was welcome to have meals with them if she liked. Still, it did seem weird to impose. She grabbed her purse and opened the door; the smell of roasted meat and potatoes wafted up the stairs. She turned and tossed her purse on the bed. They had offered, after all.

When she wandered into the kitchen, Charlie was carving the roast, and Hazel was sliding the tray of popovers into the oven.

“Della, how good to see you,” Charlie smiled warmly in her direction, “Will you be dining with us this evening?”

“It does smell so good. You wouldn’t mind, would you?”

“Absolutely not,” Hazel exclaimed, as she pulled another plate from the cabinet, “We love it when our guests take a meal with us. Of course, it doesn’t happen often,” she shrugged, “I guess they feel like they’re imposing, but I assure you, that’s why we opened our B&B, so we could get to know people from all over.”

Della helped toss the salad and they took all of the food into the dining room and sat down around the table, where a roaring fire was going in the fireplace, and lit candles made the wine in their glasses glow like rubies.

“So, you mentioned that you were meeting with your family,” Hazel took a popover and handed the basket to Della, “How’s that going?”

Della frowned. She didn’t want to admit that her own cousin didn’t want anything to do with her, so she said, “Well, I was planning on going to see my grandmother tomorrow morning.”

“That’s smashing to hear,” Hazel beamed, “What did you say your grandmother’s name was?”

“Eloise Clarke.”

Hazel’s eyes widened. She glanced over at Charlie, and they shared a look.

“What?” Della asked, worriedly.

“Your grandmother is Eloise Clarke?” Hazel put her fork down.

“Yes, I think so. I’m pretty sure that was the name that I was given, and it makes sense, seeing as how Clarke is my last name.”

“We didn’t even connect the dots, did we?” Charlie shared another look with his wife.

“Do you know her?” Della asked them, tired of feeling left out of the loop, which, clearly, she was.

“Oh, we don’t know her, no, but we know of her. Everyone does.”

“Really? Why?”

“Because she lives in the castle on the hill, I suppose.” Hazel stabbed at a crusty piece of potato.

Della didn’t try to hide her surprise, “Castle?”

“Yes. Clarkesdon Castle up on Fain Hill,” Charlie answered. He glanced at Hazel, “It’s seen better days, but that’s to be expected, I suppose.”

“So, my grandmother lives in a castle. A real castle. That’s just… that’s just crazy.”

Charlie tore a popover in half and slid it through the gravy on his plate, “At least you know where to find her.” he smiled.

*************************************************************************************************************************

The next morning, after a full English breakfast served in Charlie and Hazel’s kitchen, and a rather maddening drive through town, Della finally drove up the drive towards Clarkesdon castle. Her nerves were getting the best of her, but she was determined to see it through. This was her grandmother, after all.

The drive ended in a circular driveway. She parked her rental behind a vintage Bentley and shut off the engine. It was misting lightly as she got out of the car and stared up at the castle. It was imposing. A bit decrepit, granted, but still imposing.

Della took a shaky breath and walked up to the door. Another iron clapper awaited her hand. She used it and stepped back to wait.

The door swung open and a tiny woman appeared. She was wearing a lavender blouse with a string of pearls hanging down, and her gray hair was swept up into a bun on the top of her head. Her eyes were studying Della over her bifocals.

“Hello,” Della smiled, “I’m Della Clarke. Are you Eloise Clarke?”

The woman’s fragile hand flew to her chest as she stepped backwards with a gasp.

Worried, Della reached out to steady her, but the woman pulled her arm away, “Leave.” she cried, moving to close the door on Della.

“You’re my grandmother,” Della said, refusing to budge, “I’m Allison Clarke’s daughter, from America.” Alarm bells were starting to ring in her head, but she ignored them; she just couldn’t conceive of a world where her own grandmother would not want to talk to her.

“I don’t have a daughter.”

Even though she was reeling, Della wasn’t about to give up that easily, not with something this important to her, “I’m your granddaughter. I… I am here to find my fam…”

“You’re no family of mine,” Eloise said, with a firm shake of her head, “I don’t know you, and I don’t want to know you, so if you came here expecting an inheritance, you’ll get none from me. Now, leave, and never come back.”

Tears came rushing to Della’s eyes, “Wait. Wait. Please. I don’t want any money from you. I… I just want to know my family. I swear, that’s all.”

Eloise’s face softened the tiniest bit, “Your mother was a drug addict who put me and her father through bloody hell. Like I said, I want nothing to do with you. Leave. Go on, child. Find your own way, like she did.”

As the heavy door closed in her face, Della was reeling. She didn’t know how she managed to get in the car, or how she managed to drive at all, but somehow she found herself pulling into a carpark in front of a little park. Her head was spinning as she got out and walked towards a bench. She took a seat and stared out at the pond where a family of ducks were swimming. She felt so lost, and alone, but also confused. Eloise had told her that her mother had been a drug addict. If that had been the case, then her mother had changed, because the mother that she had known had never even taken a pain reliever. She could have told Eloise that, if she’d been given a chance. She could have told her how wonderful a mother her daughter had turned out to be, but she couldn’t. Not now.

“Look’s like you could use a tissue.” a male voice said.

Della glanced up. A man with a book tucked under his arm was staring down at her.

“I don’t have one, unfortunately. I’m Nigel, though. Nigel Taylor-Hill.”

Della sniffed and quickly wiped her tears away, “I’m Della Clarke.”

“Nice to meet you, Della Clarke. I uh, I usually sit at this bench and read my book during my break, but I think you need it more than I do.”

“I can go…”

“No. Stay. It’s fine.”

“We could share it, if you want.” Della offered.

“Are you sure. I mean, you might want a bit of privacy.”

“It’s fine. I’m fine. I just, uh, I just got some bad news and I needed to process it.” Della tried to make light of her tears so as not to frighten him away.

Nigel took a seat on the far end of the bench, “I couldn’t help but notice that you have an American accent. What brings you to our fair shores?”

Frustratingly, tears rushed into her eyes again and she squinted them back, “I came to find my family, but apparently they don’t want me.” she spat, unable to keep the anger out of her voice.

“How bloody awful of them,” Nigel frowned as he cocked his head, “Perhaps it’s for the best, luv?”

Della put her arms around her chest in a self comforting way and sniffed, wondering if she could get away with wiping her nose on her sleeve, what he would think if she did, or why she even cared what he thought at all.

“Sorry. That probably sounds insensitive, doesn’t it? What I meant to say was that it’s rubbish that someone wouldn’t want to get to know you, Della Clarke.”

“Thank you. That was so sweet of you to say.” Della took another, closer look at him. He was actually quite handsome, which made her feel like even more of a sobbing, sniffling, snotty mess.

“It’s a long trip over just to meet some relatives, I should think.”

Della nodded her agreement as a squirrel climbed down the tree behind the bench and scampered off across the grass.

She glanced back at Nigel; he was now looking at her like he’d just been struck with an idea.

“What?” she asked him.

“You wouldn’t happen to be one of the Clarkes, would you?”

“You know them?” Della squeaked. Even after everything that had happened recently, she couldn’t help but want to know more about her family.

“Well, no. Not really. But I’ve heard stories…”

“What stories? Please, tell me.” Della implored him.

A scowl settled on Nigel’s face. He was clearly conflicted.

“Please just tell me,” Della pleaded, “It’s the only way I’ll probably ever know anything about them, honestly.”

“When you put it that way. Alright, my grandmother, Bonnie, used to know Eloise Clarke. They were school mates, and they kept up with each other for awhile after. She was actually in Eloise and Frank’s wedding. A bridesmaid. She was there when they had their kids, a son and a daughter, I think she said.”

Della was staring at him with rapt attention. She nodded for him to continue.

“From what I recall, the daughter started hanging with the wrong crowd from a young age. Got in all sorts of mess ups. Petty crimes, mostly. Nicking five and dime stuff. Tagging buildings. That sort of thing. By that time, my grandmother and Eloise had stopped talking… an argument or something, but Gran always took particular joy in hearing about Eloise’s troubles.”

“Go on,” Della prompted him, “What happened with the daughter?”

“Oh, right. I remember her saying that the daughter had run ins with the law and that Eloise and Frank always managed to get her out of it, while the other kids that she ran with went to young offender…”

Della’s chest felt heavy as she listened to his words. It didn’t seem real. It certainly wasn’t anyone that she’d known her mother to be.

“And then, I apparently she got knocked up,” Nigel was saying, “And no one knew who the father was. My Gran really got a kick out of that…”

“And she left,” Della whispered, “She left England and went to the States.”

Nigel was nodding, “That’s right. She le…” he threw his hand up to his face, “Bloody hell! You’re Eloise’s granddaughter, aren’t you?”

“I am.”

Nigel grimaced, “Forgive me. I’m a bloody idiot…”

“No, don’t feel bad. I begged you to tell me. Actually, I heard it all before, from Eloise,” Della stared out at the water. She wondered what Nigel was thinking of her and decided she should add, “Allison. My mother’s name was Allison Clarke. She was a wonderful mom to me. She raised me all alone, in a foreign country, working two jobs sometimes, just to keep us afloat. She never touched so much as a pain reliever, believe it or not.”

Nigel placed a tentative hand on hers, “That just makes it all the more sad that your Gran won’t give you the time of day, Della.”

“It does, doesn’t it?” she smiled softly and then stood up, “I should go, but thank you, Nigel, for talking to me, and telling me what you know.”

“Did it help, though, Della Clarke?”

“It did.”

Nigel breathed a sigh of relief, “Good. I’ll be here same time tomorrow and through the week, if you ever need to talk to someone.”

“Yeah?”

“I’ll even make sure to have a tissue with me next time, but I hope you won’t need it.”

“Fair enough.” Della grinned as she walked back to her car. She felt lighter, but the sadness still lingered around the edges.

*************************************************************************************************************************

Della took a sip of tea and looked around the pub. Ye Olde Merry Swine was quiet on this rainy mid afternoon, and it suited her mood perfectly. Even the rain pelting the mullioned windows sounded like a soothing melody to her frazzled nerves as she waited for Harriet Williams to arrive.

“Not here yet, luv?” Phoebe asked, as she settled a plate of shortbread next to Della’s tea cup.

“Oh, I didn’t order any cookies.” Della told her.

“Not cookies, luv. Biscuits,” Phoebe corrected her, “And they are on the house.”

“Well, then thank you. And… oh, look, Harriet just came in the door.”

The ladies watched Harriet give her umbrella a gentle shake as she came to the table.

“Cheerio,” she announced, as she slid into the booth opposite Della, “It’s sure pissing down out there. My hair must look a fright.”

“Hair looks fine, luv. I’ll bring your tea.”

As Phoebe hurried off, Harriet settled back and smiled softly at Della, “Now, tell me about your meet ups with your family. How did they go?”

“They didn’t, I’m afraid.” Della felt her voice crack, even just bringing the subject up. It was maddening how much this was affecting her.

“What?” Harriet gasped, looking horrified, “Why ever not?”

Della shrugged, weakly, “I went to see Freddie first, but he turned me away at the door. Wouldn’t even hear anything past my telling him that I was his cousin from America…”

“Bloody hell! What’s wrong with the lad?”

“I told you he was a bit of a rounder, didn’t I?” Phoebe sat another cup in front of Harriet and moved the plate of shortbread in the middle.

“He refused to even talk to her, Phoebes,” Harriet reached across the table and patted Della’s hand, “Go on, dear, have a biscuit.”

Della did as she was told. After a few nibbles, she added, “And Eloise Clarke, my own grandmother, told me that my mother was a drug addict, which isn’t true,” she hissed, “And shut the door of the castle in my face even.”

Phoebe and Harriet gasped in outrage.

“Just dreadful. I am so sorry, Della. I had no idea.” Harriet grabbed a biscuit, jammed it into her mouth and chewed furiously.

“I suppose I do have two relatives left.”

“That’s right. Your uncle and a female cousin if I remember.”

“Yes, my uncle Howard and my cousin, Annabel.”

“So there’s still hope then, dear…”

Phoebe snorted.

“I am trying to keep the girl’s hopes up here, Phoebes. If you’re not going to help, then perhaps you should go wipe off a few tables, huhm?”

Phoebe snorted again and left in a huff.

“I’m afraid she can be a bit negative,” Harriet informed her, “It’s because her ex is a bloody tyrant. Anyhoo, I would hate for you to give up, Della.”

Della took another sip of tea as she stared off into the distance, “I know. It’s just, well, it’s really hard to be turned down by your own family members. It’s not like these are distant relatives. They’re close relatives. My own grandmother!”

“It is terrible, but you mustn’t let it get you down.”

“I suppose you’re right.” Della searched in her bag and found the paper that she had scribbled their addresses on.

“Of course, I am, dear. Oh, and by the way, I was hoping you would come round my house for dinner tomorrow? I’m having a few friends over and I’d love for them to meet you.”

“I would love that. Thanks, Harriet.”

“Wonderful. Hey, Phoebe, are you coming over tomorrow?” she called across the room.

“Depends on if you’re having sausage rolls or not.” Phoebe answered.

Harriet groaned, “Fine. I suppose I can make sausage rolls.”

“Then Davin and I will both be there.”

************************************************************************************************************************

Della sat in her car, parked precariously on the side of the two lane road, and stared in frustration at the gates that blocked the entrance to her cousin, Annabel’s house. She waited for a few cars to pass and then stepped out and walked over to the metal gates. In the car, she hadn’t been able to see past the tall hedges that edged the property, but here, as she looked through the iron bars and up the long driveway at the imposing property, she realized her mistake, “Fuck. It’s a full blown estate.” she whispered.

A car started headed down the driveway towards her and Della yelped and ran back to her rental. She yanked the door open and jumped inside as her stomach did flip flops. She slumped in the seat and watched an Aston Martin pull onto the street and drive down the road.

“Should I follow it?” she asked herself as she sat up and thrummed the steering wheel.

“Why the hell not.” she answered herself, as she put the car in drive.

When the Aston Martin pulled into a slot in front of a strip mall of fancy shops, Della dutifully followed. She watched a woman get out of the car and walk into a clothing store. Della heaved a sigh of deliberation. She did want to see her cousin close up, but she wasn’t sure if she was ready to actually talk to her. Not yet. Not when it could mean facing another rejection.

Before she could talk herself out of it, Della jumped out and headed into the store. She skirted the sales lady and ducked behind a spinning display of designer sunglasses.

“Pardon me.” a slim hand reached past Della’s face and pulled out a pair of jewel encrusted sunglasses from their slot.

It was her cousin, Della realized, right there, standing beside her. She was several years younger, and taller, too, and much, much more elegant looking.

“Say, I think I would love these more in black,” Annabel whipped the glasses off and handed them to Della, “Do be a dear and go check in the back for me.”

It took a moment for Della to realize that her cousin thought that she worked there, “Oh, uh, I don’t actually work here.” she shrugged apologetically.

Annabel’s nose screwed up as though she was smelling something disgusting. She haughtily looked around the room before looking Della up and down, “You couldn’t possibly be shopping here.” she finally said, with a delicate sniff.

“And why is that?” Della dared ask, as she tried to forget that she had tossed a cardigan over an old band t-shirt that morning.

Annabel cocked her head and drew her lips tightly together as she pivoted away, clearly not concerning herself with speaking to someone like Della any longer.

Della thought about staying and watching Annabel shop, but once she caught sight of several sales ladies conferring with each other as they stared at her with concerned expressions, she thought better of it and scooted out the door.

Once in her rental, she considered her next move. The thought of appearing at her cousin’s gate and ringing to be let in no longer seemed plausible, seeing what had just transpired, so that left her with confronting Annabel when she came out of the shop.

“Fucking hell, I hate this!” Della slammed her hand on the steering wheel. She was infuriated to feel so nervous about reaching out to Annabel, but the fear of being turned away again was strangely powerful, and very, very real. Could she handle another rejection? She wasn’t sure.

Annabel suddenly stepped out of the shop, a shopping bag swinging from her wrist.

Della hopped out of the car, ignoring her emotions as she fast walked to catch up to her cousin before she reached her posh vehicle, “Annabel, wait.” she cried.

Annabel turned around. Her eyes narrowed, “How do you know my name?” she asked.

Della reached her. She smiled warmly, “My name is Della Clarke. I’m your cousin, from America.”

Annabel planted her hand on her hip, “My brother told me about you,” she exclaimed, “He said a nutter showed up at his doorstep, claiming to be his cousin…”

“I am his cousin. And yours, too,” Della explained, quickly, “My mother, Allison Clarke, was your father’s sister.”

Annabel suddenly leaned in so close that Della could smell her last cigarette as she spat, “You listen to me, you twat, stay the hell away from me and my family. If you think you can show up here and try to take our inheritance you’ve got another thing coming, because that castle is mine, and no one is taking it from me.”

“But that’s not why I’m here,” Della insisted, “I just want to know my family, that’s all…”

“That’s too bad, because we don’t want to know you.”

Della felt her face go pale as Annabel slid into her luxurious car without so much as a backward glance.

**************************************************************************************************************************

“So that’s pretty much that,” Della said, as Harriet, Royston, (Harriet’s husband) Phoebe, Charlotte, Fern, and Alice, all shook their heads, sadly, “I only have one other relative left to talk to, now.”

“I’m miffed just hearing about it,” Fern, Harriet’s next door neighbor and fellow book club member declared, as she popped another prawn toast in her mouth, “And you traveling all the way here just to meet them.”

“Seems to me that you’re better off not knowing ’em,” Phoebe turned away from the table and bellowed, “Davin, leave Quincy alone! I’m not telling you again.”

“It’s fine, dear,” Harriet said, “Quincy likes the attention from the kids.”

Phoebe stood up, “Quite right, but Davin will yank his tail off. Trust me, I know.”

As she disappeared into the front room to keep her son from yanking the dog’s tail, everyone turned their attention back to Della.

“You know, Della, my nephew happens to be a lawyer. I could introduce you.”

“Alice, why in the world would she need a lawyer?” Harriet asked.

“Because of the castle, Harriet,” Alice exclaimed, “It’s surely worth a small fortune, and Della would certainly have a legitimate claim on it should her grandmother…”

“No,” Della shook her head firmly, “No, I’m not interested in any inheritance. I just wanted a family…”

“Darling, I understand what you’re saying, but this is more than an inheritance,” Alice cocked her head like a wise old owl, “This is a family legacy we are talking about.”

Harriet placed a hand on Della’s arm, “Perhaps it couldn’t hurt to hear what the lawyer has to say on the matter, dear. It doesn’t mean that you have to follow through, of course.”

Charlotte, who was close to Phoebe and Della’s age, nudged her shoulder with her own and said, “Tell me that this isn’t the only thing you’ve done while you’ve been here?”

Della shrugged.

“Oh we are going to have to remedy that,” Charlotte pounded the table, “Let’s take her on a proper night out this weekend. Show her what jolly old England is really about.”

“Oh, I do love a night out,” Fern seconded, “Anything to get me out of the house these days.”

Harriet leaned in and whispered to Della, “She’s got three teenaged boys at home, dear.”

“In that case, how can I say no then.” Della said, as cheers went up around the table.

**********************************************************************************************************************

The next morning, Della woke up to abundant sunshine streaming in through the gauzy curtains in her room. She stretched as the smell of coffee and sizzling ham drifted up the stairs and under her door.

“I’m going to miss this when I go back home.” Della groaned. She got out of bed, took a quick shower, put on a quick face, and got dressed for the day.

“Hope you’re hungry,” Hazel said, as Della entered the kitchen, “Charlie made fried ham and apple crumble.”

Della inhaled deeply, letting the scent of cinnamon, apples, butter and salty meat fill her nostrils, “Ahhh, that smells like heaven.” she said, as she collapsed in a seat at the island.

The spiced oatmeal topping gave way to warm, cinnamon syrupy apples as she put her fork through the crumble, “You have got to teach me how to make this.” Della declared. She put the bite in her mouth and immediately moaned in delight.

“Now how are we supposed to have you come back to stay with us if we go and give you all our recipes?” Charlie asked her.

Hazel swatted him playfully with her dish towel, “Don’t listen to him, Della. Of course we would be happy to teach you.”

“You know, you could always put together a cookbook and offer it to your guests. I certainly know I would buy it.”

“Hey, that’s a good idea, Della,” Hazel swatted her husband again, “Isn’t it, Charlie?”

“Are our recipes that good?” he asked, dubiously.

Della finished her bite of juicy ham before saying, “They are. Trust me, they are.”

Hazel sat down and reached for the serving spoon, “So, what are your plans today, if I might ask?”

Before she had even realized that she had mentally planned her day, Della answered, “I think I might go for a walk over at the park, actually. It’s such a beautiful day.”

“What a lovely idea.” Hazel scooped herself a big helping of crumble.

“Yes, yes it is.” Della agreed, silently wondering if it was such a good idea, but knowing that even if it weren’t, she was still going to do it.

****************************************************************************************************************************

The bench was empty when she arrived, which suited her just fine because it gave her time to consider her actions and what they meant. After a few minutes of thought, Della decided that she was just hoping to see Nigel Taylor-Hill again and it didn’t have to mean a damn thing. That little chore taken care of, she reached in her jacket and pulled out the bag of stale bread that Charlie had given her. She tore off little hunks and tossed them out to the ducks, enjoying the warmth of the sun on her face.

Five minutes later, the bread tossed, Della sat back and checked her watch. Where was Nigel? Maybe he wasn’t coming. It was fine. Wasn’t it? After all, she hardly knew him.

She glanced to her left and saw a woman chasing a toddler towards the small playground. She looked to her right; a familiar figure was approaching. She smiled. He smiled back.

“Della, so good to see you here.” Nigel settled down on the bench beside her.

“It’s good to see you, too, Nigel. Hope I’m not disturbing your break time.”

“Not at all. That’s the good thing about a book, they wait for you.”

“True,” she sighed and leaned her head back against the bench, letting the sun wash her face, “I had never realized until I came to England just how much I enjoyed sunshine.”

Nigel chuckled, as he, too, laid his head back to enjoy the sun’s rays.

They sat that way, comfortable in their silence for several minutes, until the toddler that Della had noticed earlier ran by, chasing after the ducks. With loud quacks, the ducks scattered, some of them flying off, and some of them heading into the pond as the lad’s exhausted mom ran to stop him from following them into the water.

“You never told me if you attempted to meet another relative or how it went?” Nigel asked her as he sat upright again.

“Oh, that,” Della sat up too, “Yeah, not so good. I followed my cousin, Annabel, to a shop, a fancy one at that, and she thought that I worked there…”

“You followed her? Are you a stalker, Della?” he asked, with a smile.

“There’s a funny story to that, actually. See, I had originally drove out to her estate…”

“Estate?”

“Yep. A bonified estate, Nigel, with heavy iron gates and all. So, there I was, standing out in front of the gates, trying to figure out where the buzzer was, or even if I wanted to press it if I ever found it, when I see this car, an Aston Martin, I might add, barreling down the drive towards me, and I panicked and ran back to my rental car.”

“Completely understandable, luv.” Nigel said, encouragingly.

“I followed her, and I was intending to introduce myself in the store, but after she thought that I was an employee, I got embarrassed and went back out to my car, intending to leave, but I guess that I didn’t have enough humiliation for one day because when she came out, I ran after her and introduced myself…”

“Let me guess. She was a proper wretch about it?”

“You could say that. She called me a twat and a nutter, which I’m assuming means nuts, or something like that.”

“Pretty much what it means,” Nigel nodded, a small smile of amusement playing around his lips, “But you’re not. Nuts, I mean. Actually, it appears that you might be the only sane one of the bunch.”

Della laughed, “Well, there’s only my uncle remaining, and I don’t have much hope left, honestly.”

“I doubt I would either. Tell me that your entire trip hasn’t been miserable though.”

“No. No, it hasn’t. I’ve met so many wonderful people. In fact, I’m going out to a pub this weekend. The Spectral Wench, is what it’s called, with a group of them.”

“I’m chuffed to hear that. You need to get out and forget all about those bloody louts, luv.”

“I do, don’t I?” Della stood up, “And, on that note, I should go tackle the next thing on my to do list, pay a visit to my uncle. Might as well finish the lot and be done with it.”

“That’s a brilliant idea, and I really do hope that you’ll get a better outcome this time around.”

“At this point, I can’t say that I have much hope left, but I’m still going to reach out.”

“You’ll tell me?” Nigel asked her.

“Of course, and I know just where to find you.”

*************************************************************************************************************************

Howard Clarke lived in a terraced house in a row of posh terraced houses. Della sat in her car contemplating how best to tackle the situation. Maybe she needed to come at if from a different angle, so as not to scare him.

“I could write him a note,” she thought aloud, “I could write him a note asking him to meet me somewhere, and then I could slip it under his door.” Now that she thought about it, it didn’t seem like such a bad idea, actually. A bit cowardly, yes, but considering everything that had happened, cowardly was preferable to being rejected right to her face again.

Decision made, Della reached for her bag, found a receipt from a kebab place, and scribbled out a note. She jumped out of the car, walked to the door with the right address, and attempted to slide the note beneath the door, only to fail because the weather stripping went all the way down to the concrete stoop. Undeterred, she tucked it beneath the door knocker and fled before anyone called the bobbies on her.

**************************************************************************************************************************

That evening, tucked into a booth at Ronnie’s, a pizzeria not too far from the B&B, Della ordered her second glass of wine and glanced at the clock again. It was ten after seven. She’d asked her uncle to meet her there at seven. So he wasn’t coming. She was disappointed, but this rejection was easier to swallow than having him reject her to her face.

The waitress put another glass down, “You going to order something to eat?” she asked.

Della picked up the laminated sheet just as a man stepped up behind the waitress and said, “We’ll have a large pepperoni and sausage, sweetheart, and none of that wine for me. I’ll have a pint of lager.”

Stunned speechless, Della stared at him as he slid into the booth opposite her, looking at her with her mother’s eyes.

“So, your Ally’s girl, huh? Della, is it?”

Della nodded, finding it hard not to notice how even his mannerisms reminded her of her mother.

“So dear old sis managed to get all the way to the States. I admit, I’m bloody surprised.”

“Can you… can you tell me about her?” Della asked him.

Her uncle shrugged, “She was messed up. Hung out with the wrong crowd. When she wasn’t nicking stuff from the shops, she was pissed and strung out. Then she got knocked up with you. No one knew who the father was. Probably not even her.”

Della swallowed hard. It was difficult hearing him talk about her mother like that, like she was trash beneath his feet. How dare he?

“It sounds like she needed help.” she finally said, stiffly.

Howard’s eyes narrowed, “Seems like you wouldn’t know what my family went through back then.”

“It’s my family, too.” Della narrowed her own eyes.

“Oh, I don’t think so, Della. See, we don’t know you, and you don’t know us. You can’t come here and pretend that we’re all one big happy family. That’s not how it works, sweetheart…”

“If you’re worried that I’m trying to take your inheritance, I can assure you that…”

“Fuck the inheritance, Della,” Howard spat, “That’s all settled and in the vault. You’ll not get a single quid out of us.”

Della sighed in frustration, “Like I said, I don’t want anything from you except getting to know you. You guys are the only family that I have.”

“She killed my dad,” Howard suddenly said, “When she left like she did. It killed him as surely as if she’d shot him through the heart. And after all the crap that mum and he had been through already, just trying to get her clean, get her out of this scrape or another.”

“I’m sorry,” Della looked down at the table, unable to meet his eyes, but determined to say her piece, “I am. But I’m not her.”

The waitress suddenly arrived. She sat a pint of beer down in front of Howard.

“Pizza done, luv?” he asked her.

“Just coming out of the oven.”

“Good. Box it up. I’m taking it to go.”

Della’s mouth dropped open as her uncle picked up the glass and drained its contents in one go. He let out a loud belch as he slammed the glass down on the table.

“We’re done here,” he announced as he slid out of the booth, “You’re not family, Della, not today, and not tomorrow, but thanks for the pint and the pizza.” He winked as he turned away.

She didn’t want to cry. She blinked furiously trying not to cry, but the tears came anyway, filling her eyes and running down her cheeks as the waitress awkwardly shrugged and left to do what she’d been told.

*************************************************************************************************************************

“That rotten bastard!” Phoebe screeched so loud that everyone could hear her over the band, which was saying a lot.

“How awful,” Harriet was shaking her head back and forth, “What an awful thing for someone to do.”

Fern threw back a shot, slammed the glass down on the table, and announced, “I think we ought to go to his house right now and start a prosest. Rosest.”

“Protest, dear,” Harriet smiled apologetically in Della’s direction, “She doesn’t get out much these days, I’m afraid.”

Della smiled as her feet bounced against the barstool to the traditional Scottish music that was filling the pub with waves of sound.

“Come on, let’s dance,” Charlotte grabbed her hand, “Fern, Phoebes, come along. Out on the floor with you.”

“But I don’t know how.” Della cried, as Charlotte pulled her off her stool and dragged her towards the small dance floor.

“You’ll learn,” Charlotte started hopping up and down in time to the bagpipes, “Just do what I’m doing.”

The music was electrifying and impossible not to move to, so Della gave into it and danced until her heartache started to fade and all she could think about was how much fun she was having.

Two songs later, sweaty and breathless, they finally returned to the table, where Harriet was waiting.

“You’re a natural, Della,” she said, “I remember back in the day when you couldn’t get me off the floor.”

“You still could, I bet…”

“Ladies, you wouldn’t believe who I found wandering around the pub,” Alice trilled, as she reached the table, “It’s my nephew, Nigel.”

That got Della’s interest. She looked up. It was him. He smiled at her and she felt her stomach do a flip-flop.

“Della, it’s good to see you.”

“You’re here.”

“I am.”

“Wait. You two already know each other?” Alice asked, as she looked between them.

“We do, actually,” Nigel answered her, “We met at the park.”

“It’s a small world.” Della couldn’t help but notice how handsome he looked in less formal clothes.

“I was just telling him that my friend, that’s you, dear,” Alice explained to Della, “were in need of some council concerning your family.”

Nigel waved the barmaid over, as he pulled a stool up to the table and sat down next to Della, “Aunt Alice told me about what your uncle did, and I’m sorry that happened to you, Della. He sounds like a load of…”

“It’s okay,” Della stopped him, “It’s fine, really. I’m trying not to dwell on it tonight.”

“What’ll you have?” the barmaid sidled up to the table.

“Pints all around, ladies?” he asked them.

“If you’re buying, lad.” Alice said.

“My pleasure.”

“Be right back.” the barmaid turned away.

Della watched her head over to the bar. She felt Nigel’s hand drop over hers and she looked back at him.

“Della, there are plenty of things we could legally do if you want me to look into it. I don’t practice family law, but I have a few colleagues that do.” his voice raised as the fiddles started up again.

“I have a better idea,” Della beamed as she stood up, “Why don’t you come dance with us. It’ll be fun.”

“I’m not much of a dancer…” Nigel started to protest, but Della wasn’t having any of it.

“On your feet. Come on, up you go.” she pulled at him as Fern, Phoebe, and Charlotte came over and started to cajole him, too. Finally, looking extremely put upon, Nigel stood up and allowed himself to be pulled out onto the dance floor as the band started playing a rousing tune.

As they kicked up their feet, Della put all thoughts of her family out of her mind. She knew that, just like a hangover, the rejection would make her sick to her stomach in the morning, but she was determined to have fun in the moment, and let the next day take care of itself.

****************************************************************************************************************************

“Another cup, luv?” Hazel asked in a whisper.

Della nodded, but even that made her head pound harder. She was nursing a doozy of a hangover, but that wasn’t all; she was also feeling the sting from her uncle’s words, and that actually hurt worse.

Hazel poured fresh coffee into Della’s mug, and tsked, sympathetically.

“Should I make her some dry toast?” Charlie whispered.

“Do you want some toast, luv?” Hazel whispered.

Della groaned as her stomach heaved in revolt at the mere mention of food.

“I think that means no, Charlie.” Hazel answered for her.

“Maybe next time she should bring the group over here for their do. We could’ve made sure they were eating well while they were drinking at least.”

“Hey, that’s a good idea, Charlie. Did you hear that, Della? Why not bring them over here next time. We’d love to meet them.”

“Sure,” Della agreed. The pain reliever she had taken was finally kicking in and she was beginning to think she might still be alive when Nigel came to pick her up. Everyone was supposed to go to Phoebe’s son’s preschool recital, what ever that was, “Wait, what time is it?”

“It’s nearly one.” Charlie informed her.

“Shit!” Della jumped up, causing her head to spin alarmingly. She gripped the edge of the table until it calmed down, “I’ve got to shower. Nigel’s picking me up at two!”

She moved carefully up the stairs and took a quick shower, which further helped revive her. Afterwards, she did a quick makeup, and looked through her meager wardrobe. What did one wear to a preschool recital? She decided to play it safe and slipped on the one skirt she’d brought, along with a basic black tank. To dress it up, she put a nubby cardigan over it.

“Done, and done.” she announced, as she took another look in the mirror. She didn’t want to admit it, but she was giddy with excitement at seeing Nigel again.

“Stop it,” she whispered to herself, “It’s not a date, for heaven’s sake, Della. He just offered to give you a lift, that’s all.”

Suddenly, a thought crossed her mind and she went downstairs to search for Charlie and Hazel. She found them in the back garden, “Hey guys, I was wondering something. They mentioned going out for food after the recital. Would you mind if I brought them back here? I could pay you for everything, of course.”

Charlie looked at his wife, “It’s nice out. We could do bangers on the BBQ.”

“Good idea, and we could do some lovely veggie kabobs as well, with that dipping sauce, of course.” Hazel said, excitedly.

“I take it that’s a yes?” Della grinned.

“It’s a yes, of course,” Hazel stood up, “We’d love to meet your friends. Now, off you go. We’ve got loads to do.”

*************************************************************************************************************************

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything so cute.” Della leaned over and whispered to Phoebe.

“Right?” Phoebe put her hand to her heart, “Oh, here comes his line.”

Davin, dressed as a sheep, stepped to the middle of the stage. He looked positively terrified as he looked at his teacher, who gave him a nod.

“The cow jumped over the mooooon.” he whispered.

Phoebe squealed and started clapping, so Della, Harriet, Royston, Alice, Fern, Charlotte, and Nigel all joined in until they were shushed by the rest of the crowd.

After the recital ended, Della told them that they had been invited back to the B&B for dinner.

“Poor louts, they don’t know what they’re getting into, hanging out with this bunch.” Fern said, as they walked out to the cars.

“They have room for us, dear?” Harriet queried.

“They do. We’re having a BBQ in their back garden.”

“Oooh, I love a back garden,” Charlotte swooned, “Count me in.”

“Hey, I’m going to stop off at the house and get him changed,” Phoebe pointed to her little sheep, “So text me the address will you.”

“Sure thing.” Della told her, as she got into Nigel’s car.

“Everyone else, follow this car.” Nigel said.

*************************************************************************************************************************

“So, have you given any thought to how you want to handle your family?” Nigel asked. They were sitting at one of the picnic tables watching Phoebe, Davin, and Royston attempting to play cornhole out in the yard.

“Not really, no,” Della admitted, “What do you think I should do?”

Nigel grabbed another sausage and put it into a bun, “These are amazing, by the way.” he told Charlie, who was stirring up a pitcher of drinks.

“Cheers, mate,” Charlie reached for a glass, “Fancy a beverage?”

“I do, and one for the lady, as well,” Nigel took the first glass from Charlie and handed it off to Della, “Here you go. It’s getting a mite warm, isn’t it?”

Della, who was used to much warmer weather back home, just smiled. She took a long drink and smacked her lips, “Charlie, that is delicious, but tell me there isn’t any alcohol in it.”

“Not a chance, luv. Not after last night’s revelry.”

“You heard about that?” Nigel asked him.

“I did, indeed.” Charlie poured a few more glasses and left to take them around.

Della turned her gaze back to Nigel, “Well, you didn’t tell me what you would do.” she prompted.

“I guess that depends. Do you plan on going back home, or are you planning on staying here?”

Della was taken aback by his question. She’d never thought beyond trying to find her family, “I could stay here?” she finally asked him.

“Sure. You have dual citizenship, since your mother was born here.”

“Oh. Well, that certainly is something to think about.”

“Della, what do you have waiting for you, back home?”

“Honestly? Nothing. I mean, I have a job, but that’s about it.”

“No special someone?”

Della smiled, seeing where the conversation was leading, “No. And you, do you have anyone special?”

“No,” he smiled back, “But I hope to.”

“How’s our little lovebirds doing?” Alice asked, as she and Fern slid onto the picnic table bench.

“Lovebirds?” Della felt her cheeks flame.

“Anyone can see you fancy each other, right Fernie?” Alice nudged Fern with her shoulder.

“It’s bloody obvious, yeah.”

“I don’t believe we have to put up with this right now,” Nigel stood up and grabbed Della’s hand, “Come on, let’s go find some less prying company.”

Della let him pull her away as she giggled.

As the evening wore on, Della eventually found herself in the kitchen, helping Hazel with the dishes. Her entire body was thrumming with a contentedness that she couldn’t remember ever feeling in quite the same way before.

“You’re looking happy, luv.” Hazel said, as she handed her a plate to dry.

“Am I?”

“It’s that handsome bloke, isn’t it?” she nodded at the window, which looked out to the garden. They could see everyone sitting around the firepit, their faces glowing as they shared conversation and laughter.

“I suppose it is.” Della admitted.

They finished up and went out to join them and were soon doubling over as Charlotte regaled them with stories about her dating disasters.

Suddenly, Nigel put his arm around her and rubbed her shoulders as he pulled her in closer.

Della snuggled up against him. He looked down at her and winked, “You know, I think you should stay, Della. I hope you stay. Even if you didn’t find the family you were looking for.”

Della looked around, her eyes alighting on all of the dear faces that she’d grown to love. She smiled in satisfaction, “You know, I think I did,” she told him, “I couldn’t ask for a more perfect family than this one right here. A family that sees me, and accepts me, just as I am.”

“I was hoping you’d say that. So you’ll stay?”

“I’ll stay.” she said.