“I don’t know Lisa.”

Peggy suddenly appears from inside the house. “Maybe I can answer that for you Lisa.”

Bette immediately jumps up and walks over to the woman that looked so fragile without the coiffed hair, make-up, designer clothes and jewelry. She was still elegant and refined dressed simply in silk pajamas and a matching robe. “Peggy. I’m sorry. Did we wake you?”

“No dear. When you get to be my age you don’t sleep much. I get up often during the night and come out here to just sit and think. I didn’t mean to interrupt your conversation. I just happened to hear Lisa’s question.”

“I’m sorry Peggy. I didn’t mean …”

“It’s OK dear. Much of the time that I spend out here is thinking about Helena and where I might have gone wrong. I know I could have done a lot of things differently, but I honestly think that she was a bad seed from the start. No matter what I would have done the outcome might have been the same.”

Peggy settled into one of the loungers and wrapped herself in a throw. She had never really talked about her life with anyone, but she felt comfortable sharing with Bette, James and Lisa.

“I was 33 years old when I had Helena. Her father was British. He was 25 years older than me. We both came from money, so she never wanted for anything. Her father of course doted on her. She was a beautiful baby and grew into a stunningly beautiful woman. That might have been to her detriment. She learned early on that with money and beauty she could get anything or anyone that she wanted. My husband had pretty much retired, so he stayed in England until his death. I on the other hand was a free-spirited socialite and heiress. I traveled the world and continued to build our empire. I was an ambitious businesswoman with a passion for art which Bette and James will tell you I totally indulged in. I’ve spent millions over the years between my private collection and what I have granted to organizations such as the CAC.

Helena was raised for the most part by her father when she wasn’t in boarding school. I spent time with her of course, but we never seemed to click. She didn’t have any drive or ambition. She didn’t take an interest in anything that I was interested in. She certainly didn’t share my passion for the arts which was fine, but she just didn’t seem to care about anything but her own enjoyment. Even as a young girl she was narcissistic with an extreme sense of entitlement. She was reckless and impulsive. She couldn’t or wouldn’t control her behavior. She would get annoyed with me. She would threaten and sometimes our arguments got violent; not physically but she was verbally abusive. It was the same at school. Sometimes the temper and aggression did escalate into fist fights with her classmates. The teachers and counselors tried to intervene, but she had no regard for authority, and knew no boundaries. But she was clever. She was exceptionally bright, beautiful, charming and engaging; this was the side she showed her father which is why I always appeared as the bad guy. Sometimes I would look at her and think that we were raising Jekyll and Hyde. Once she started engaging in sexual conquests it was harder to fool her father and her real character emerged. She was constantly getting into trouble with young girls. Her father and I routinely bailed her out to keep from blemishing our good name. That was our first mistake. Once she had that to hold over us she manipulated us into indulging her proclivity for sexually deviant activities.