Family Heirloom Treasure

Family Heirloom

“No! Dont try to convince me, Mum! Im going to do it anyway!”

“Catherine, darling, why?! Please tell me, why on earth do you feel the need?”

“Why? Because he always walks into the room a minute before I do! Because I cant bear to look at myself in the mirror! Because Ill never be able to have a normal life! No husband, no children! For goodness sake, Mum! Dont you see?!” Catherine burst into tears, flinging her hairbrush at the unsuspecting Thomas.

The pillow he was tearing at with his clawslistening to their battle of words above himhad once been painstakingly embroidered by Catherine. It was meant for her grandmother as a present, but the infamous family argument divided everyone into two fiercely opposed camps, so the gift remained undelivered. Those perfect velvet roses, stitched with such care, now adorned Catherines own room, sometimes suffering the indignities of Thomass feline rampages.

The cat, after all, was Catherines own rescue, and she regarded his education as her ongoing responsibility. Shed saved him from a gang of local boys who, convinced any stray was fair game, had been prodding the miserable little creature with sticks until shed intervened. Theyd barely paid attention to her soft-spoken demands, mistaking her for delicate and harmless.

But the boys had underestimated Catherine. She had a gentle soul and loved music, just as her mother wished, but her father, dreaming otherwise, had enrolled her in karate as a child. Catherine had a black belt and a shelf-heavy with trophies jostling for space, always exasperating her during cleaning. She loathed tidying up, and dust lingering around her prizes always plunged her into despair. Her mother, convinced the trophies bolstered Catherines self-esteem, forbade her to stow them away.

Her karate skills had proved most helpful: after the local boys had received a just dose of retribution from a dainty girl in a school cardigan, they disappeared to nurse their wounded pride, leaving Catherine with a scrawny, balding kitten with a sad skinny tail. The tail soon recovered, and the kitten transformed into a bold, fluffy cat, supremely confident that Catherine was his personal property and therefore needlessly anxious about nothing. Free to enjoy life, he occasionally permitted her to stroke the purring perfection beneath his chin to compensate for her devotion.

Thomass official adoption coincided with one of Catherines more miserable days. Shed left the Royal College of Music in a fluster: her practice for the upcoming competition wasnt going well; usually nimble fingers turned clumsy the moment her friend Matthew entered the rehearsal room.

Shed known Matthew as long as shed known herselfschool first, then the College. And yet, after a few months parted by summer and Matthews family affairs, hed returned different. Eccentric. Unreachable. When hed draped his arm around her shoulders, as he used to, regaling classmates with some new story, Catherine had frozen with a sudden joy so overwhelming she almost melted. On any other day, shed have ducked away, giving him a friendly whack, but this time she just wanted to stand still, feel his warm hand on her shoulder, and bask in the secret happiness of it all.

Of course, when Matthew had dashed away waving his crumpled manuscript and announcing his glorious return, Catherine scolded herself. Silly girl! To imagine such things!

But the feeling would not leave her. Shed catch sight of her tousle-haired prince, only to drop her eyes the instant he glanced her way. It hurt, and it was wonderful. She wanted to confess everything to Matthew and, paradoxically, dreaded it so much that the very thought turned her vision black with fear and her fingers chilled and clumsy.

Catherine suffered.

She couldnt share her turmoil with anyone. Her mother would never understandeven if Catherine sometimes suspected she might. In any case, telling her mother about a first love was absolutely unthinkable.

Things between Catherine and her mother were complicated. They adored each other profoundly, yet both had inherited formidable tempers, making restraint a necessity. When they failed, the result wasnt a shouting match or flying crockerynever thatbut rather a door quietly closed in someones face, and then silence would settle in the house.

“Mutual cultural annihilation,” her grandmother called it, before the great falling-out that tore them apart. “Phenomenal stupidity, really.”

Catherine agreed, but the tradition persisted, and she played her part, always the first to tentatively restore peace.

Catherine knew her mother loved herloved her fiercely, almost painfully. For Audrey Finch, nothing on earth was more precious than her daughter. Catherine knew it. She also knew her mother would go to any lengthseven if that meant wrapping her child in cotton wool and keeping her locked away from harm.

So Catherines world was small: home, lessons, the odd trip to the countryside, rare family holidays. No school trips, never sleepovers. Her friends, if they could be called such, were the daughters of her mothers acquaintances, pre-approved by Audrey. Catherine never really warmed to any of them. Lucy constantly poked fun at her with silly, stinging nicknames. Simon, after just one visit, ripped the head off her beloved teddy bear, declaring, “Serves him right!” Catherine never understood what he meant and cried whenever Simon darkened her doorway thereafter.

“Oh, what a shame the children dont get on! Theyd have made such a lovely couple,” Simons pretty mother would sigh, feebly trying to console Catherine, who could sense the insincerity and remained unmoved.

“Audrey! Dont squash the childs spirit!” Grandmother Ivy would say, holding Catherine close. “Give her freedom to choose! Take away that choice now, and shell forever feel less than whole!”

“Ivy, dont fill my head with nonsense! Catherines still a child! What choices can she possibly make? Im responsible for her. So I get to choose, thank you very much.”

“As long as you dont confuse being a mother with being an owner. Thats the important thing.”

Why had Catherine remembered that exchange for so long? She didnt know. But it was burned into her memory so deeply that whenever Audrey became too demanding, Catherine would echo, “Mum! I am not your property!”

Which, understandably, infuriated Audrey.

“Stop repeating what others tell you! You should think for yourself!”

“And I do!” Catherine would sulk, and silent tension would settle once more.

Grandmother Ivy had had to leave, after that big row tore the family apart. Catherine thought it pointless to assign blameeveryone had played a part.

After all, Ivy herself, in a fit of rage, had told her mother, You should have looked after your nerves better, Audrey! This sensitive soul businessabsolute nonsense! You ought to have thought about someone else for once! And then there was Audrey, driving the household to distraction throughout her second pregnancy, prone to late-night sobbing fits and repeated cries of, “Youre all unbearable! Why is there no compassion in you?!”

Neither Catherine nor her father knew what compassion was expected. They tiptoed around Audrey as best they could, to no avail. She lost the baby, well into the pregnancy, and, after that, all that was left were regretspointless, because her mother blamed the world, and only Ivy dared say, You need proper careand you cant do this alone! You need to speak to a specialist, look after yourself, and your family too! Im telling you this as a doctor, not just your mother-in-law!”

It took all Ivys strength to get those words outshe was taken to the hospital from her sons house, struck down by a heart attack. Audrey never forgave her for speaking so plainly.

Catherines father tried, for a while, to build bridges. But two stubborn women are rarely reconciled by good intentions. He resigned to waiting.

Time dragged on. Catherine missed her grandmother desperately but dared not defy her mother. Audrey, shattered by her loss, clung ever more tightly to Catherine, drawing her energy for life from her daughter alone.

“Mum, why didnt you try again for a son, if you wanted one so much?” Catherine ventured only once, and it went unanswered. The look Audrey gave her was so desolate that Catherine never dared mention it againfor fear the storm would obliterate what little peace remained.

Grandma Ivy was the only person Catherine could have confided in, but she was gone. Ivy had sold her flat, bought a house in Brighton, and left.

“Itll be best this way, loveeasier for everyone.”

Catherine knew her father visited Ivy twice a year. Her mother accepted it, no questions asked, but refused to allow Catherine to go.

“I wont have her turned against me!”

Catherine disliked the arrangement but, out of love for both parents, tried to be the least unhappy party. She kept a photograph of Ivy in her favourite novel, peeking at it in secret when her mother wasnt looking.

The artistry of that photo always amazed herhow had the photographer captured her grandmother in such a way that the greatest Finch family treasure seemed so small, so that every time Catherine glimpsed her own reflection, she was moved to tears?

Her nose. Her heritage. Distinctive and outrageously beautiful, they said…

But out of all the descriptions, only distinctive felt honest to Catherine. Beauty was not a word she associated with her nose.

“Its simply enormous!” Lucywhom Catherine hadnt seen for more than a decadegasped, trying to touch the tip with her meticulously polished nail. “Sorry, but its funny! Like a real-life Pinocchio! Doesnt it get in the way when you kiss someone? Oh my goodness, Catherine, are you serious? Never?! You’re such an oddity! Your age and not a single boyfriend? How extraordinary!”

How Catherine restrained herself, she could never say. She wanted to rip off at least half Lucys perfect hair. Who gave her the right to say such things? Friend? Hardly. Acquaintance, maybe. Not even that anymore; shed moved to Spain years ago and came home only for rare, dutiful visits. Their reunion had been orchestrated by Audrey at the very last minute, and deeply against Catherines wishes.

“Oh darling, you cant! You havent seen each other for so long!”

“And I’d have happily waited another ten years! Why, Mum?”

“Catherine! Its for your own good!”

“Whose good?”

“Yours, first and foremost! Dont ask silly questions now. One day youll thank me!”

Of course, Catherine thanked her mother for the meeting, in the choicest words she could manage inside her head, as her soul raged. But out of that encounter, Catherine made her first truly adult decision.

“Im getting a nose job!”

“No!” Audrey looked at her daughter in horror. “I wont let you! Why?”

“Theres no point arguing, Mum. Daddys already given his consent. Ive made up my mind!”

“You cant…” Her mothers whisper was so faint Catherine barely heard it.

The rest of the conversation ended in tears for both. Audrey sobbed and left, full of confusion and searching for solutions.

She found her answer late at night, so simple and clear it startled her. She dashed to her husband, demanding Ivys phone number.

Catherine flew to Brighton the very next day.

Audrey personally drove her to Heathrow; hugging her at the gates, she whispered in her ear, “We all make such silly mistakes, my darling. And lose so much where theres so much to gain… Dont repeat my mistakes. Dont ever forget how much I love you. More than life itself, more than the whole world put together.”

All Catherine could do was nod, return the embrace, and board her flight. Her grandmother was waitingand that was what mattered most.

Ivy greeted Catherine so warmly that it took two days for them to exchange more than stray words, let their hearts finally settle, and speak with calm, meaningful phrases.

“Catherine, my love, whats changed your mother somade her into such a true woman?”

“No idea. Perhaps because Ive decided to chop my nose off!”

“Why? Youre beautiful, love! A touch of lipstick would help, but thats all.”

“Grandma! Not you too! I look like Pinocchio!”

“Who told you such utter drivel?”

“Believe me. People have.”

Catherine bit her lip, tears pricking as she recalled the immaculate Lucysomeone who never had to worry about love.

“People who deride anothers looks arent people, Catherine, but a farce the Lord forgot to edit before sending into the world. There are no perfect people! Not especially women! Find me anyone truly content with their looks, and the Guinness World Records could close down on the spot!”

“Perhaps I should apply, thenfor the worlds most remarkable nose? Id win, no doubt!”

“Wait!” Ivy rose from the depths of her armchair, smoothed her perm, and glided into the next room.

She returned with a thick velvet-bound photo album.

“Here.”

“Whats this?”

“These are the ones whom the Finch family heirloom didnt stop from being happy. Your ancestors, dear. Not all, sadlymany photographs were lost. You wont find pictures of my cousins, who perished in London during the Blitz. All thats left are stories, and a brooch given up for a childs salvation. One cousin survivedhidden, protected, treasures quietly returned so shed have something of her family left. That was Aunt May. Remember? The child who became a remarkable woman, a famous surgeon. She always insisted on a special surgical mask, so her nose wouldnt get in the waythere, see?”

A tall woman, laughing in the foam of the Brighton sea, holding her floppy sunhat. Beside her, a man who could have stepped from a magazine cover.

“Thats Uncle Richard?”

“Indeed. Young, handsome, full of life. May was so happy with him!”

“But he was ill, wasnt he? I remember you saying…”

“Yes. In the last two years, he could barely get out of bed. May gave up work to care for him, relishing every moment left. She hand-fed him, changed his bedding, and was grateful for every day. She let him go only at lastand followed six months later, despite all…”

“Such a life…”

“And May is just one. None of us ever changed our names. We clung to them as proof of those who came before usgrandfather and his brother who founded the family. These noses are their gift to us. And curiously, the women of this family have always found happiness. Loved, married whom they chose, saw their children and grandchildrensometimes great-grandchildren. Thats not nothing.”

Ivy rose again, opening a small carved box from the bureau.

“Its time. Take this, Catherine. Its Mays gift to youshe shared out all she had between the girls in the family. Each of us kept something.”

The earrings Catherine plucked from the box were so lovely she lost her breath and her hands trembled, just as they did when she saw Matthew.

“Your great-great, well, many-greats grandfather made these. A famed jeweller. He saw beauty where none could. He doted on nature, and its all reflected in his work.”

“Are these lilies?” Catherine marvelled at the flowers set with tiny gems.

“Yes. His wife was named Lily. He made these for her, she passed them to her daughter, and so on. Now, theyre yours.”

“Grandma! This is a real family heirloom!”

“Just like your nose, my girl! Suppose I decided this bit of artistry was outdated and ridiculous, and its maker a foolshould I melt this treasure down for a modern trinket with no soul, no story?”

Catherine gripped both fists around the earrings and shook her head. “That would be wrong!”

“Exactly! Dont go angering the Creator by telling him his work on you is somehow wrong. Everything you have is just as its meant to be. Now, tell me about the boy who set you all a-flutter. Who is he, what does he do?”

“Grandma! How did you know?” Catherine blushed, lowering her eyes.

“Great mysteries, child!” Ivy winked. “Think I havent been young myself?”

Their talk spiralled late into the night. Catherine spoke with ease now, watched and understood, so she could breathe, prepare for her competition, and think of the future without that sticky fear that had haunted her. Now, at last, there was someone with whom she could share her innermost secret.

In the morning, Catherine found her grandmother packing a suitcase.

“Where are you off to?”

“Time to gather stones, Catherine. I made my share of mistakes too, but the biggest weighs on me still. I let a bond break that never should have. I need to see your mother.”

Ivys resolve was so unwavering that Catherine offered no resistance. She helped her pack, and ordered the taxi.

Later, curled on her bed with Thomas, Catherine listened to the quiet voices in the kitchen below. She longed to go down, sit between them, take her mothers hand, and ask if peace had been made at last but she knew not to force it. True family harmony was fragileand worth more than gold. It is, after all, a jewellers craft.

A year later, Audrey, holding her baby bump, would struggle to rise as the make-up artist worked her magic, lightly touch the lily of Catherines inherited earring, drape the veil over her daughters hair, and ask, “Ready?”

“Just a minutelet me powder the family treasure!” Catherine would wink at the mirror.

Casting one last look at her reflection, shed nod, remembering how, nerves fluttering, shed asked Matthew if hed ever been bothered by her looks.

“Never, Catherineyoure perfect! Why would you ask?”

His confusion would be so pure, Catherine would squeeze her eyes shut with sheer happiness.

A gentle smile, a glint beneath trembling lashes, and slim arms looped around the neck of the wild-haired, tall young pianistthe latest winner of the international competition.

“Just because, love. Just because”