Chapter Three

Life gets more complicated

CHAPTER THREE

Damien Kevin Dolland was an average looking guy who would not draw the eye in a crowded room. Known to his friends as Dolly since he was very young, he was of average height, with sand coloured wavy hair, and a graceful, pleasant manner that made him easy to like. Perfect for someone working in a library, where silence, though no longer mandatory, was still preferable. Gone were the days of the strict, bespectacled librarians, stamping books and quietening patrons with a stern glare and a harsh sssh! Staff these days were young and trendy, talking was allowed, but mobile phones were a no-no.

Dolly had worked at Yewell Town Library since leaving school at eighteen, and had been joined by his best friend Emily on her graduation from university. They had been friends since their first days at Yewell Primary School; more than friends, as close as brother and sister, perhaps closer. In fact Dolly had to admit though only to himself, Emily would be the perfect girl for him, if he liked girls. They had joked in the past that if both found themselves unattached when they became OAPs they should marry and claim whatever the state had to offer a married couple.

Now Emily's world was a troubled one, and anything that troubled Emily affected him too. He had helped to care for Lewis Beauchamp during his final months, visiting the nursing home and taking Lewis for trips out in his old mini . He was grateful to the Beauchamps for the love and support they had given him. When he found life at school difficult as a teen Lewis had taught him sign language. Dolly could curse and swear when he needed to let off steam, and the beauty of it was, no one could tell. He and Lewis and Emily would have whole conversations which sailed right over Jen's head It drove both her and his mother mad.

Dolly was in the work room sorting out books that needed rebinding. Some of them were past mending and headed for the recycling bin. Others would be put out for sale in the library, the proceeds going to charity. The door was open and he and Emily were making arrangements for visiting the hospital after work. Emily dropped her voice warningly.

“FYI your uncle has just stepped thorough the main door.”

Dolly edged further into the work room.

The one flaw on his personal horizon was Uncle Dickie. Married to Dolly's Aunt Cecilia, his second wife, he had named Dolly as his successor. The inheritance included Yewell Country Park and Manor, as well as several houses in Old Yewell itself, one of which was shared by Dolly and Emily. In Sir Dickie's mind his nephew would be Sir Damien with Emily as his lady. He did not seem to comprehend that the two were not a couple. It was a future that Dolly was not keen to embrace.

Sir Anthony Richard Dixon was the self-styled lord of the manor. He had inherited the title and estate from his own uncle, Sir Lionel. Quite how the land came to be possessed by the family was shrouded in mystery and rumour. It was said that Sir Lionel's grandfather had won it in a card game sometime in the nineteenth century. Certainly deeds to the property had changed hands, along with a letter relinquishing the title and bestowing it upon the new owner. Whether this exchange had happened in the presence of an officer of the law was unknown. Nevertheless the estate had prosperd.

As Sir Dickie strode into the library Dolly stayed put behind the door. Dickie enjoyed the acknowledgements he received from his fellow patrons. He was a tall and wiry man, his mole-grey hair gelled just so, and a grizzled military style moustache, which leant a distinguished air to the persona that was Sir Dickie Dixon. Yet there was something about his eyes. One was brown, the other blue; a condition known as tetrachoma. When he made eye contact, people felt nervous, but he got his own way more often than not.

Emily greeted him at the reception desk with her best 'can I help you' smile, silently cursing Dolly for his cowardice.

“Emily, my dear. Is my nephew anywhere near? I need a word.”

“Gone out for a coffee, Sir Dickie. Can I help?”

“Be a good girl and give him a message for me. Lady Cecilia and I are having a little soiree tomorrow evening.” He spoke a little too loudly so that all could over hear. “A cocktail party. It's for YCCS, Yewell Community Cancer Support. The wife is chairwoman. Tell Damien I expect him front and centre, at seven sharp; he is my heir after all. You are invited too, goes without saying. You are practically family.”

Sir Dickie never let anybody get a word in; he went straight to the point, almost condescending in manner. He and Mrs Roth would get on famously. There was no please or thank you, just be there. Then he strode out through the side entrance into the park and vanished from view.

Dolly edged cautiously out from his hiding place. “Has he gone?” he enquired, nervously scanning the length of the library.

“He has” Emily confirmed, putting returned books onto the trolley. “Coward!” she admonished him. “We've been summoned to the Big House.”

Dolly heaved an enormous sigh, ever the drama queen.

Under the impression that Dolly and Emily were an item Sir Dickie let them have the house in Swan Street rent free so they could live together. They shared the house, that much was true. Dolly had the upper floor, Emily the lower, and they shared the kitchen. They still insisted on paying a nominal rent each month. Sir Dickie remained in the dark and kept dropping hints about setting a date for the big day.

Dolly gazed at Emily like a little boy lost.

“Don't give me puppy dog eyes!”

“You'll have to come with me Belle, for moral support”, he pleaded. “You know what he thinks of people like me. If I tell him I'm gay he'll probably have a heart attack. I'd have to take over the estate.” He gulped. “We'd have to take over the estate.”

“Leave me out of it. I've got enough problems with my own family.” Emily shoved the trolley towards him so briskly he had to jump backwards to avoid getting thumped.

“You can choose your friends, but relatives won't go away.” Dolly carefully manoeuvred the trolley out from behind the desk. “Anyway, I can't go either, I'm driving you to the hospital.” He was soon out of sight behind the shelves.