But apparently it was right. As well as there being no money, there were a number of debts and business obligations to be met. There were salaries due to the people in her father’s company which had to be paid, said the solicitors solemnly. This house would have to be sold, and the cars and most of the furniture would probably have to go as well–there were some quite valuable pieces and one or two good paintings. There would have to be a proper valuation, of course; they would see to that as soon as possible. Unfortunately the house was heavily mortgaged and the bank would probably call in the debt fairly soon, but something might be salvaged.
Well no, Donna and Don would not be thrown homeless into the world–of course they would not, said the solicitors, shocked at such an idea. A little money would have to be squeezed from somewhere, and a suitable place found for them to live. Unless there was anyone in the family who might take them in? Ah, there was not. No relatives? Oh dear, that was a pity. Well yes, they did appreciate that Donna was eighteen, and therefore an adult…Oh yes, she would almost certainly be regarded as Don’s legal guardian. And a modest house, or perhaps a little flat would somehow be managed for the two of them.
Donna did not want these stupid smug men squeezing out money to buy a modest house or a flat for them to live in, and she did not want them computing income and selling things or knowing all the details of her father’s financial ineptitude. But she did not let them see this, and somehow she managed to control the cold furious rage that welled up inside her. She asked if her mother had been aware of the situation, and the solicitors hemmed and hawed and avoided her eye, and said, Well, possibly she might have, but they were not here to judge.
It was instantly obvious to Donna that her mother had known all along. She had known all about the mounting debts and the tangled finances, and Donna, realizing this, hated her mother very fiercely indeed for continuing to expect expensive holidays and first-class travel and lavish entertaining. She hated her father as well, for continuing to provide all those things, and for not giving so much as a hint to Donna or Don. When Donna thought about her father’s deceit and her mother’s selfish extravagances she knew she would never forgive either of them, and she was very glad they were dead.
She had politely told the solicitors that she and her brother would be perfectly all right. No, they did not need anyone’s help, thank you so much. They would manage. They did not want anyone finding somewhere for them to live; they would find their own place. Donna had already left school and would look after Don, who must, of course, finish his education. Two more years that would be.
To herself she thought that even though they were financially out in the cold, at least she and Don still had each other.
There had been the tag-end of a single-premium insurance policy to cover the rest of Don’s school fees, and even if Donna had been agreeable to cashing this in for living on, the terms of the policy would not have allowed it. So Don, protesting angrily, had to go back to school.
There was just enough money for the renting and furnishing of a tiny flat for the two of them to live together. Just about enough. The unfairness of it all was a permanent ache in Donna’s throat, but once having found the flat she had taken a job, because it was necessary to have money. She had, in fact, taken several jobs, mostly of the Mayfair receptionist/dinner-parties-in-your-home kind, drifting from one to another, hating almost all of them. But her school French was quite good, and she was fluent in Spanish learnt from her mother, which was occasionally useful.
One or two former friends of her mother helped out with introductions and recommendations. ‘Dear Domina, so brave and really quite clever, she’d be so useful to your little business…Well no, no actual qualifications, but we knew the family–such a tragedy it was, so do employ her if you can.’