Molly’s stepmother went to live in France after Molly’s father died. Molly went to visit several times, and thoroughly enjoyed spending time with Eleanor in her rather glamorous apartment up in the hills to the east of Cannes. The view over the Mediterranean was a sight to behold, and Eleanor was great fun. They both loved to browse around the shops. After each session they would retreat to their favourite pavement café and watch the world go by as they slowly sipped their café frappe.
Molly was saddened to receive the news that Eleanor had passed away suddenly. At her last visit just a couple of months previously she had seemed full of life and in good health.
“She’s left you something in her will,” advised Eleanor’s daughter from her first marriage. Molly responded with a gasp.
A telephone call to Eleanor’s solicitor revealed that something to be a ring which Molly’s father had bought for Eleanor. The only trouble was, the ring was too expensive to send by post. So Molly booked a flight to Cannes and an overnight stay in the cheapest little pension she could find on the internet. Flying to France and back on the same day seemed a bit of a rush. She was saddened to think that with Eleanor gone this visit was bound to be far less entertaining than her last.
Everything proceeded smoothly, and Molly left the solicitor’s office with a diamond ring of mind-boggling proportions. Returning to her lodgings by taxi Molly surreptitiously turned the diamond this way and that on her finger, admiring the way it glittered in the sunlight. She didn’t need her spectacles to know this was a magnificent gift, and she sent a silent prayer of thanks to her benefactor.
Molly felt anxious about wearing such a ring. She turned the diamond inward, and it felt like a small egg against her palm. She didn’t dare take it off that night, and kept the diamond turned inward when she returned to the airport the following morning. Having passed through the scanner, she considered concealing the ring in a small plastic milk container which she found among the clutter of rubbish in her handbag. But somehow that felt like smuggling, and what if she lost it? Molly knew she would need to have the ring valued and insured when she returned home. She couldn’t possibly wear it - where could she hide it at home? Although it was a beautiful thing which she would treasure and never sell, she wished her father had been a little less extravagant when choosing jewellery for his much-loved second wife.
By Karenne Griffin
Last Modified on: 05-11-2015