Lacey was adopted but she knew who her biological mother was; a girl of fifteen who gave her up for adoption after birth. I like to describe Lacey as a “sunny girl”, meaning I believe she was born under a lucky star. The family who adopted her were well off. Father a barrister; in fact he was the one who found me the job at the solicitors’ firm after Lacey asked him to help. Mother a foreign languages teacher, hence Lacey’s fluency in Spanish and French. She went to university and did a degree in languages and literature with the aim of training to become a teacher and following in her adoptive mother’s footsteps. However, she found work as a freelance translator, earning rather well, and decided to forget teaching.
One fine day Lacey met Martin and, as I said, married him. He was CEO of an American financial company and extremely rich. In his will he left Lacey everything he had. And when I think about it I always feel a sting of jealousy as, since then, Lacey enjoys life without a struggle or the need to move a finger to get whatever she wants. She’s had several boyfriends throughout the years but remains unattached, loving her independence. I resent it. It’s wrong of me, I know, but I can’t help it. When Lacey wants something she simply buys it without giving it a second thought and when she likes a man all she has to do is snap her fingers and he’ll come running so she feels no need to marry again or go steady. This is not because of her wealth. Lacey is beautiful. With natural copper-red hair and green eyes she gets noticed. But I know it’s more than her beauty. It’s her buoyant personality that attracts the opposite sex. I don’t think I’m beautiful, though I’ve been called attractive or pretty. Lucky for me I took more after Mum than Dad though my eyes are brown and hers were blue. Lacey says my problem is that I’m shy, insecure and have a worrying, obsessive nature. She believes these traits scare men away. But what does she know?
Anyway, I digress.
Hopping onto the train in Shoreham-by-Sea I must admit I was excited about my birthday weekend. I had no idea what Lacey had planned but was certain it would be good. Lacey always went to great lengths to give people she liked what they couldn’t afford themselves. Of course it was a wonderful quality but I often felt the prick of the green-eyed monster, occasionally growing irritable with her well-intentioned meddling. Still, it didn’t prevent me from enjoying all the pleasant treats she showered upon me.

About the Author

M G da Mota is Margarida Mota-Bull’s pen name for fiction. She is a Portuguese-British novelist with a love for classical music, ballet and opera. Under her real name she also writes reviews of live concerts, CDs, DVDs and books for two classical music magazines on the web: MusicWeb International and Seen and Heard International. She is a member of the UK Society of Authors, speaks four languages and lives in Sussex with her husband. Her website, called flowingprose.com, contains photos and information.

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