I turned to Kylie, who had remained dutifully silent until then. “What do you think?” I asked
her.
“Well, Dad, it sounds a bit scary, but also like a big adventure. I wouldn’t mind going to live
in a big country house, but I think I’d miss my friends at first. The biggest thing for me is
this talk of you having to find another wife. I miss Mum, and don’t know if anyone could
replace her. On the other hand, I wouldn’t mind the chance of having a little brother or
sister. I don’t know. It’s for you to say, Dad.”
I turned back to Mr. Jones. “How long have I got to make up my mind - and if I decide to
say yes, by when do I have to be married?”
“There are no specific provisions on that score. No action will be taken towards breaking
up the estate before a year from this date. However, you will need to leave enough time for
all the legalities to be completed, so I would recommend that you come to a decision within
nine months, one way or another. Now, I am to hand over to you this package, which
contains copies of your uncle’s will, the charter of the Manor, a brief history of the Estate, a
personal letter to you from your uncle, written shortly before his demise, and a cheque for
£10,000 which represents a special bequest from your uncle.”
He handed the package over to me, and insisted I checked the contents, before having me
sign a form to say that I had received it. Mr. Jones then gave me his business card and
told me to be in touch as soon as I made my decision and was ready to meet the terms of
the will. I promised to do so, and he took his leave, having once again declined any
refreshment, saying that his train would leave in just 45 minutes, and he didn’t want to
miss it.
-2-
Following the solicitor’s visit, I took a deep breath - then we both dissolved into giggles.
“Should I make a list of possible brides for you?” Kylie asked once we had calmed down.
That set us off again, but before long, reality kicked in. I began to wonder just how and if I
could find the right person to take the place of my lost bride in both mine and my
daughter’s lives.
Kylie and I had a serious talk after that, and we both agreed that we needed to be very
careful just who we told about the incredible situation we found ourselves in. We decided
to tell nobody for at least 24 hours, not even my mother, who lived nearby and would
certainly have to be told - and who probably already knew something about the Manor in
Sussex.
That night I had a dream, or more correctly, a nightmare. I was being pursued by a number
of young women dressed in bridal gowns, all saying, “Take me, take me!” Just before I
woke up, I tripped and fell, allowing these women to catch up with me. First one took hold
of me, and said, “I’ve got you. You’re mine!” Then another grabbed me, and another, until I
was down on the ground, being smothered by the brides. I woke up to find myself
completely tangled up in the bedclothes and covered in sweat.
In the morning, Kylie and I decided to tell my mother the news, that Kylie would tell only
her best friend Amy, swearing her to secrecy, and I would tell my cousin in Australia and
my closest colleague from work, Ron Fischer. He and I have been friends for years, and
when I lost my Julia in the accident, his wife kept bringing round meals for us, and cleaned
