C H A P T E R O N E
“Lyssa Grant, I expect the best from you during my meeting. No interruptions, comments or noise,” Carrie said. Carrie was my mother. We weren’t very close, so there was no parental nickname for her. I just called her Carrie.
“Yes, fine, okay,” I mumbled. Ever since I could remember, I had been hauled to my mother’s meetings and the exact same directions had been veered my way. I didn’t even remember when I’d had a birthday at home, without being dumped at my Granny Nana’s or being pulled around the big glass building of Grant & Co.
“Now, Mr. Wilson is an extremely important man. He is very rich and powerful and we need to borrow money from him. I expect you to be on your best behaviour as the daughter of the lady who founded this company, namely me.” Carrie sternly continued.
“I said okay! But when can we go out for lunch like you said? Do you remember it’s my birthday?”
“Yes, Lyssa, but this is really important. If lunchtime rolls by and I’m still busy, I’ll take you out to Gertie’s Cafe for dinner.” Then my mother grabbed my arm and roughly pulled me through some glass doors. Behind them, a long wooden conference table was laid out with around twenty chairs, all filled.
“Ah, Mrs. Grant, we have been waiting for you. And who is this?” An aging man asked, rising from his chair. He smiled kindly at me.
“This is my daughter, Lyssa. My husband is away on business, so I had to take her. I apologize in advance for any disturbance she may make,” Carrie said.
“No, no! I understand the importance of children, as I have some of my own. She will be of no annoyance to us,” the man announced.
“Thank you, Mr. Wilson,” my mother faked a smile. Then she hurried me over to a chair out of the way and she sat down at the table.
“We must commence for we are already five minutes behind. Mrs. Grant, I believe you have a presentation?” Mr. Wilson asked, implying that my mother set up.
“Yes, indeed I do. I will need to set up my laptop and the overhead projector, but while doing so, I will explain the goal of my presentation,” Carrie replied, scrambling for her laptop case. Out whipped her Mac Book and some cue cards. She immediately started connecting wires to a wall and an extension cord.
“Grant & Company would like to first off thank Mr. Wilson for coming in from London to review our company’s progress. It is a great honour to have someone here with such power,” my mother said, and then she turned on her computer. The apple lit up and a ringing sound filled the room.
“As I set up my slideshow, I would like to introduce the goal of having Mr. Wilson here,” my mother repeated. “Grant & Co. would like to expand their locations in England other than in the county of Somerset. We would eventually want to go international, but that is not an issue at this moment. Going national is our goal for now. We don’t have the money to quite yet expand, so we request a loan from Mr. Wilson.”
She pulled down the projector screen as a title page zoomed onto it. I flicked the light switch off above my head. Carrie nodded a thank you.
The rest of the presentation went by slowly and I didn’t pay any attention. Mr. Wilson looked impressed by my mother’s smart slideshow. When the clock reached noon, the meeting was over and I hastily reached my mother after everyone had left.
“We have time to go out for lunch! Isn’t it great?” I asked, joyfully helping my mum gather her things.
“Yes, Lyssa, but Mr. Wilson invited me for lunch today. I’m sorry and I really don’t want to cut our lunch date short, but this could mean so much for my company! I’ll drop you off at Granny Nana’s. I promise to take you out for dinner tonight,” Carrie smiled, but it came out more as a grimace. I didn’t care. My mother wouldn’t be bothered by me or Michael, my brother. I just nodded and smiled back, but I’m sure it came out just the same as my mother’s.
Mr. Wilson came with us, too. I liked him because he was nice, and, unlike my mother, he didn’t talk about business all the time. He told us about his wife Mary and his three sons back in London.
“Mary does fine when I’m away on trips. My boys are sixteen, fifteen and twelve and are very responsible. Your Lyssa here might be interested in meeting them someday,” Mr. Wilson said as we passed Harlequin Avenue. My mum looked back at me through the rear-view mirror.
“Maybe, but we don’t travel often unalike her father. I get very busy with the company and Lyssa and Michael usually have to stay with their Granny Nana.” Carrie said, still looking at me listening to my iPod.
“How unfortunate! Say, what if Lyssa comes to London when I head back tomorrow? She could stay until I come back to Bath in a month,” Mr. Wilson turned his head to look at me. I had paused the music I was listening to and was thinking the idea over. I decided I would like to go and get away from my mother.
“That actually is not a bad idea!” My mum exclaimed. “What do you think, Lyssa?”
“Sure, it’d be fun,” I said. I could not wait to get away from Carrie.
“I’ll make plans and call up my wife to have the rooms arranged. She’ll be overjoyed and you can meet my sons,” Mr. Wilson beamed. Again, Carrie looked up at me.
*
Supper at Granny Nana’s was good. Michael came home from his friend’s house and Granny Nana had made chicken Alfredo, our favourites. My grandmother was a widow but she always seemed cheerful.
“Yum!” Michael exclaimed when he came into the kitchen for dinner.
“There’s also orange juice in the fridge,” Granny Nana added. I got some juice for Michael and me.
“What friend did you go to today, Michael?” I asked, trying to start a conversation.
“Peter’s. He had a new pirate Lego boat and we used his figurines to play-fight,” Michael smiled as he sloppily twirled the fettuccine around his fork and stuffed it into his mouth.
“Michael, remember your manners,” Granny Nana reminded him. “So, Lyssa, I heard you’re going to London with Mr. Wilson?” Michael looked up from his dish.
“Yes, um, he offered. I’ll go for a month. Mr. Wilson has three sons around my age and he said his wife would look after me. It’s all very nice,” I stuck out my tongue at Michael who hadn’t ever left the Somerset county.
“Manners, Lyssa,” my grandmother reminded me this time. “Yes, and I’m sure your mother is all very pleased with it. Make sure you behave so she gets that loan!”
I nodded, and busied myself with eating. My Granny Nana knew that Carrie didn’t really bother with her children, but yet she still supported her. It was confusing and the one thing I didn’t like about my widowed grandmother.
The phone rang. Granny Nana excused herself as she stood up to get the phone before it reached the answering machine. Michael gulped down his juice and left the table to go play with his Lego upstairs, but I stayed put. I wanted to hear who it was ringing.
“Hello?” Granny Nana picked up. There was a pause, and then she looked over at me.
“She’s eating dinner right now,” Pause. Pause. Pause.
“Uh-huh...okay...I’ll let her know,” Then she hung up.
“That was your mother. She’s with Mr. Wilson and he just realised his train is leaving in four hours at ten pm. You should pack and they’ll pick you up in two hours.” My grandmother sternly said and then she shooed me off to go pack.
I raced up the stairs two at a time and rushed into my room. Since I frequently stayed at Granny Nana’s, I had a nice decorated room. It had dark brown hardwood floors, a white four-poster bed with white sheets and pink and brown silky pillows. My walls were painted beige and clean white crown moulding added a touch of class.
My suitcase lay on the floor open. It was plain and black—Carrie always said a plain black suitcase is great for any occasion—but it did its job. I pulled open every drawer in my dresser and pulled out what I thought suitable for the busy city of London. A black zip-up sweater, my long t-shirts, yoga pants, flare jeans, boot cut jeans and skinny jeans. Then I tossed in five pairs of ankle socks, my favourite polka-dotted pair of flip-flops and my suede boots. I carefully zipped up the suitcase so as not to snag anything and then rolled it down the stairs.
“All packed and ready in twenty minutes! Wonderful!” Granny Nana cried when she saw me roll into the kitchen. She was washing dishes.
Now I had to wait for eight o’clock to come around.
*
Eventually, the grandfather clock in the living room rang eight o’clock. I suddenly was bouncy and full of energy. I was racking my mind for things I might have forgotten and constantly glancing out the window waiting for my mother’s Mercedes Benz to pull up to the driveway.
Then I remembered Mr. Wilson had sons. I had to look my best when I arrived in London, no matter how tired I was. Since my mother really didn’t care what I did, I quickly darted upstairs and headed to the bathroom. I rummaged through the drawer contents until I found what I needed—Granny Nana’s makeup bag. I opened it and saw just what I wanted. There was black eyeliner, a makeup sharpener, a case of five different shades of eye shadow, some eye shadow brushes and thick, dark mascara. I snatched it out of the bag just as I heard the doorbell go. I walked back down the stairs with a nonchalant manner.
“Ah, Lyssa, I was just telling your grandmother about our train ride. We shall arrive in London at around three in the morning. My car is waiting for us there,” Mr. Wilson said when he saw me. I acknowledged him with a slight nod and then I walked over to my suitcase lying near the door. I unzipped the top compartment of my suitcase.
“What are you doing, Lyssa dear?” Granny Nana asked, eyeing me suspiciously.
“I, um, forgot to pack something,” I rapidly stuffed the makeup into the partition and zipped it closed.
“Okay, dear, but you must hurry for you don’t want to be late!” Then Granny Nana passed me my coat and running shoes to slip on. Mr. Wilson took my suitcase and wheeled it out the door. I quickly hugged my grandmother and gave her a hurried smack on the cheek before closing the door. I saw Michael enviously watching us from his bedroom window. I waved. He stuck out his tongue.
“We’ll put this in the boot and then drive to the station,” Mr. Wilson said, as he passed me my suitcase which I shoved into the car trunk. He got into the passenger seat given that Carrie was driving and I ended up sitting in the backseat.
The ride to the station was long and silent, probably because my mother had nothing to say and Mr. Wilson seemed a little tired. It was an awkward silence, but once we reached the train terminal, Carrie got out giving me a hug.
“I’m sorry that we couldn’t have lunch together, but I’m sure you’ll be fine. Make sure you make a good impression, Grant & Co. needs that loan!” Carrie whispered into my ear. I patted her back, said goodbye and then trotted off with Mr. Wilson into the station. I was extremely glad that I wouldn’t be seeing my mother for a whole month.
“Now, I already have our tickets. We just need to find the platform, which is five, and then we can board the train,” Mr. Wilson said as we passed through the doors.
“Okay, I’ll look out for it,” I replied, my eyes excitedly darting everywhere observing my surroundings. Eventually, we started seeing platform numbers and soon enough we were standing before our train. It was silver with a blue and green stripe running down the middle of it. A luggage handler took our bags for us and stowed them below and then we got on the train.
The inside was absolutely gorgeous! Since Mr. Wilson was quite wealthy, we had first class compartments. The dining car was richly decorated with red velvet carpeting and booths with mahogany tables and we were served on porcelain plates and in crystal goblets. Our sleeping compartments came with two twin beds—which were very comfortable—a small bathroom with a shower and a window with beautiful flowered curtains. I was in unconditional awe.
When the train departed, I stared out the window for half an hour before I started to feel tired. I slipped into my pyjamas and tucked myself into bed. I couldn’t wait to arrive in London...
