He came into the bathroom as I was getting out.
“There are three cars in the garage.”
“I know. There is the Jag, the Mercedes sports and the Range Rover. My dad liked cars, so he kept buying them.
“So, they are yours now?”
“Yup, everything is. Dad is officially dead now, so it was all in my name anyway. I suppose I will have to find a solicitor, and have all kinds of shit with death duties.”
I got dressed, the bath had made me feel much better and I was reluctant to go to bed, as I wanted to sleep at night. It was really nice to wear jeans and an old tee shirt for a change. I had been glamorous for the last month, even when off the catwalk.
We spent the morning going through Dad’s stuff. For all his villainy, he was methodical, and had planned this well. I simply called the solicitor Steven Granger, and he took control of everything. The house was already in my name, but as the transfer occurred within seven years of his ‘death’ I had to pay capital gains.
Most of his money was in cash and invisible as far as the Inland Revenue were concerned, and for that I was grateful. Dad loathed taxes, and avoided paying them as much as he could. Steven simply organised everything, including probate, valuations and tax. As the sole beneficiary I was now very well off, but recognised that I needed organising.
Steven knew a financial adviser and set up a meeting, so that the three of us could make some order from the chaos. I felt quite overwhelmed, and was very grateful that Simon was with me.
There was no food in the house, so once I had contacted the insurance company, and ensured that Simon was insured for all the cars, and me for the Mercedes only, we set off for the shops.
I had not been shopping properly for ages. Dad had been hopeless, so I had done most of the shopping. It had never been that hard, as I lived off precooked meals, as Dad was rarely at home.
Now I felt strange and housewifey, and wanted to try to cook for my man. But understanding my limitations, we were sensible. We still managed to collect a pile of produce from the shelves in Tesco. I really enjoyed just wandering up the aisles with Simon. He found it different to the States, and admitted to have never really been shopping before.
I couldn’t see Natasha with a shopping trolley somehow.
We were looking at ice creams, a weakness we shared, when I heard a female shriek.
“Sandi?”
It was Caroline from school. She always managed to catch me when I least expected or wanted it.
“Hi Caroline.”
She rushed over, and as her mother was obviously with her, she came too.
“My God, you look fabulous. When did you get back? We saw the news about your father, how terrible, but you have also been in all the fashion pages, you are so famous now. Are you going back to school?” she gushed, hardly drawing breath.
“I got back this morning, and yes, I am going back to school. Hi, you must be Mrs Warren,” I said, as her mother arrived, pushing her trolley.
“Mummy, this is Sandi, you know the girl from school who is the famous model they call Superbabe.”
“”Hello dear, oh yes, you lost your father in tragic circumstances, I am so sorry. It must be awful for you and your mother.”
“My mother died several years ago.”
“Oh, I am so sorry, so are you alone?”
Simon chose that moment to return to me, carrying assorted ice creams.
“Yes and no. This is Simon, he is my boyfriend. Simon Haddow, this is a friend from school, Caroline Warren, and her mum.”
Simon shook their hands, and Caroline’s jaw dropped, and she looked a little pale as he took in his size and incredible good looks.
“How are y’all?” he said, putting on an outrageous accent.
“Ooh, you are American,” said Caroline, the observant one.
“Sure, I met Sandi when she came over a month ago.”
“Where are you staying?” her mother asked.
“With Sandi,” he said, and I just smiled, and Caroline’s eyes widened.
“You’ve heard Mrs Simmonds is off having a baby?”
“So I gathered,” I said, and Simon smiled at me.
“I wonder who they will get to take art. I hope they get someone nice, Mrs Simmonds was okay, but very dippy.”
“We’ll have to wait and see.”
“I took my test last week, I am driving now,” she said.
“I suppose I’ll get round to it. I still have my bike.”
“Not the same really,” she said.
“Maybe, but I like it. Besides Simon is driving the Jaguar, so he takes me where I want to go.”
“Well, I’ll see you later, only three days to go now. We are the upper sixth now, and it will be great wearing own clothes.”
“Yeah, see you.”
I was glad to see the back of them. Nice, but busybodies.
We finished our shop and returned home.
I called Jenny at the hotel.
“Hi Jen.”
“Sandi. Where are you?”
“At home. We flew in this morning, and we’ve just been shopping.”
“I heard about your Dad. I am so sorry.”
“Yeah, thanks. That’s life, isn’t it?”
“Dave and Mike are back.”
“Oh.”
She laughed.
“Dave knows.”
“Oh.”
“I saw him yesterday. He’s okay about it actually. I think in a funny sort of way he is relieved. He and Mike are off looking for accommodation in Bristol.”
“They are both going to Bristol?”
“Yes, The Royal Navy have offered Dave a scholarship, but he has to get through the first year, and thereafter they pay him. He passed his interview and is all set to be a pilot.”
“Cool.”
“So what is he like?”
“You want to meet him?”
“He’s with you?” she almost screamed.
“Book us a table for two in the hotel for dinner tonight, or three, if you can join us.”
“Bloody hell, you didn’t bring him back with you?”
“I can’t leave him. Besides we are engaged.”
There was silence on the other end.
“Jen?”
“Sandi, you’re only seventeen.”
“Going on twenty-five.”
“You are really engaged?”
“Yes, I have the ring and everything, but it has to be a secret for a while.”
“Why?”
“I’ll tell you when I see you.
“Are you staying in modelling, or going back to school?”
“I’ll do both. I will go back to school, and do the occasional job for Jemima.”
“Why bother with school?”
“Ah, I’ll tell you that later as well.”
“You are so mysterious.”
“Yeah, good isn’t it?” I said laughing.
“How are you?” she asked, serious now.
“Jenny, I am fantastic. I have a wonderful man, a wonderful job, and I am almost free of my old man.”
“Almost?”
“I just know things will emerge that need dealing with. I am sorting through his stuff now, and I know there will be ghosts.”
“Oh, I understand,” she said, but clearly didn’t.
“Anyway, I need to call Jemima, so I will see you later, okay?”
“Bye.”
Simon gave me a cup of coffee, and kissed my neck.
“I’ve put most of the stuff away. I like the house, but some of the fittings. Urgh.”
I laughed.
“We will have fun getting things nice. My Dad had awful taste.”
I rang Jemima, and she was delighted to hear from me.
“Natasha has already called me, and can’t sing your praises enough. When are you coming back to work?”
“I am going to finish my A levels. I need to get qualifications, and I do want to work as well, so anything you get for weekend work, or in the holidays, I’ll do. I have loads of stuff for my portfolio, so if you want I can let you have a copy?”
“Sandi, you don’t need a portfolio. With the publicity you have had in the last few weeks, everyone knows and wants Superbabe. I could get you enough work to keep you working every day for three years.”