I must go and warn Doris. I feel very awkward about this whole situation because of course, I had been convinced that Peter was the illegitimate son of the late Lord Nascent, but he brought over his birth certificate, and I guess even I can’t argue with the truth of that. But I still say he has an uncanny likeness to him.

They both made me feel very uncomfortable, like they were laughing at me behind my back. And then bringing up those pictures. I wonder if they would stoop to blackmail. And this Helen person, who says she has no title of Lady, well, I can tell you, she doesn’t act like a Lady either. She acts like a stuck up rich bitch, excuse my French. And Peter was no better. Well if they think they can control this situation, and don’t want me interfering, let them think that. My impression is that any of the children of the late Lord Nascent, (who had a right to be a Lord) illegitimate of not, should have some claim on the manor. Before I was trying to keep Helen from being taken advantage of by Peter. Now I intend to do all I can to find someone who can take advantage of her. She made a real mistake when she treated me like dirt.
I decided that instead of inviting Doris around to my house, I would go to hers, and just drop in, friendly like, for a chat, and see if I can somehow bring the conversation around without being too obvious.

Here is her house now, I hope she is home.

Mrs. Day rings the doorbell and after a short while Doris answers. “Oh hello, Jean. What do you want? Oh, is that a bottle of Baileys I see in your hand? Do come in and sit down, and I’ll get the glasses.”

“Make them bigger than the thimbleful ones you brought out last time, Doris,” I shouted after her.

She doesn’t hear too well, and she is rather stingey in her portions. I suppose she has to watch her pennies, but this is my treat so I don’t see why we shouldn’t be generous straight away. If she wants to finish off the bottle by the thimbleful- that is her concern.

Jean settles herself on a fairly straight back chair near the centre of room, with good views of the pictures all around the room, featuring various of Doris’ relatives. Doris comes back with wine glasses, and Jean smiles broadly and having opened the bottle of Baileys, and pours them each a good 6 ounces.

“Cheers, love”

“Cheers to you too, Jean, and thank you. I normally only have Baileys at Christmas. I just love that mixture of chocolate, cream and whiskey.”

“Doris, who is in that picture there on the mantle?”

“Oh, that’s my son Robert. He’s my eldest. He’s a fireman you know. Very hard life but he likes it. He sometimes drives the truck.”

“How old is he exactly?”

“Well I think at last birthday he was forty, or is it forty-one? I have to stop and think.”

“And he was your first then, was he? It seems to me you got married in the mid sixties, isn’t that right? I remember being at your wedding. Things were much simpler in those days. Not all this grand marquees and things like they have these days. Couples nowadays have to choose between a wedding and a house down payment.”

“Yes, it was a lovely day, that. And I remember seeing you there too. You were engaged yourself at the time, so you must not have been long after. I don’t remember being at your wedding, though.”

“Well, we had to keep it very small. My mother wasn’t well and, to be honest, there was not a lot of money available for what we considered frippery in those days. And my John would much rather have eloped than have had a wedding at all.”

“Well, I certainly enjoyed my day, and would do it all again, just like that.”

“So did you get pregnant straight away then, or did you wait awhile before you had your Robert?”

“Oh, I think he came along pretty much according to plan. I think we were married almost a year when he arrived. I didn’t want people thinking he was early and we had to get married or anything like that.”

“I suppose it mattered more in those days than it does now. I remember when we were in school and some of the girls got pregnant, well, it certainly wasn’t anything you wanted anyone to know about. And most of them went away and had the babies adopted. You remember me telling you the other day about how I thought that Australian bloke, Peter, was one of those. Well he isn’t. Lady Nascent, or actually she doesn’t have any right to be called a Lady, and is just Miss Helen Nascent, confronted him with it, and he not only denied it, but he had his birth certificate with him for proof. I had to back off there, I can tell you, and I was more than a little bit embarrassed about that. But he does so look like Lord Nascent. But then again, you said you didn’t think that it was such a good likeness.”

“No, I told you at the time that it was all pretty superficial.”

“We sure had a good time back in those days with Lord Nascent, didn’t we? He was such a good sport and such fun. I never laughed so much. And he made me feel so special, like I was the most beautiful and sexiest girl in the world.”

“Yes, we all had a good time with him. But nobody really took him seriously, I don’t think. None of us expected to be the next Lady Nascent.”

“Remember how he always used to have his camera with him, and took pictures of us doing just about anything?”

“Lordy, yes, and sometimes I think he went too far with those photos.”

“Well, Doris, I don’t know how to tell you this, but that Miss Helen Nascent and her Aussie friend have got ahold of our pictures from those days, and they wanted to make good sure that I knew about it.”

“What, all of them?”

“Well the implication from what they said was that some of them might have been a bit saucy.”

“Did they say they were going to show them around?”

“No, they didn’t. In fact Helen made a point of saying she wouldn’t as it would reflect badly on her family, as if she is really much to do with the family. They only found her by going through some very odd route indeed. But when they talked about seeing them, there was such a self-satisfied look on their faces that I could have slapped them I was so mad. What we did when we were teenagers is none of their business, and I for one would like to see them get their comeuppance – both of them.”

“How could we possibly do that?”

“Well, my original idea was that an illegitimate son of Lord Nascent would have a claim on the estate. I need to find out if that is true. And if it is, then it is up to us to find one and tempt him with the idea of coming and making a claim against her.”

“Do you know who had children by him?”

“Well I have my suspicions. Do you think if a child who had been fathered by Lord Nascent came to town, you would recognise him?”

“I would think so. Unless he looked totally like his mother which boys seldom do.”

“I think if I had had a child and had him adopted, I would want to find out who he was and meet him. What about you? Would you do something like that? I mean get in touch with one of those agencies and see if they can match the mother and baby and see what happens.”

“Oh, I don’t know. What if the child didn’t want to meet the mother?”

“Oh, I think you have a choice. You can always say no when they tell you the situation. I think they always do the original probing through a third party. You wouldn’t have a son of yours coming up and knocking on your door and saying, ‘I am the son you gave away,’ or something like that. But from what you hear, a lot of those children are desperate to meet their real mothers.”

“Would you do it, Jean, if it was you?”

“I think I would. I think if it had been me, all my life I would be wondering if the child looked like me at all, and whether he and I would have some sort of special bond.”

“But I expect other children, the ones that came afterwards, would be resentful if they found out.”

“Maybe, but again, I don’t suppose anyone would tell them unless it worked out well, and then in that case, they might be very pleased to know they have another brother or sister. Which was yours – a boy or girl?”

“Boy, I mean boy oh boy is this Baileys good. Shall we have a top up?”

“I don’t mean to pry, Doris, but I did sort of hear that you did have a baby back then, and it might do you good to talk to somebody about it. Somebody who wouldn’t judge you or embarrass you in any way. Somebody who could help you trace the child if you wanted to.”

“Well, I think I had better think on this a bit, Jean. I do appreciate your coming around, but I think I will have to ask you to leave now. I have some ironing that won’t be doing itself. Thanks again for the tipple. I shall enjoy that for many a night to come.”

“Bye Doris, and remember, if ever you want a friend, you know where I live.”

I left quickly, knowing that I had perhaps pushed a bit too hard, but I felt I had certainly planted the seeds in her mind, and I rather thought it wouldn’t be long before the subject was brought up again, but this time by her.