An Uncommon Sense (22 page)

When they awoke, she’d expected him to question her on the night before, to prompt her to talk about her feelings on her experience, or to ask her if she believed him now and if that made a difference to their relationship. But he hadn’t, and Grace hadn’t been ready to raise the subject either. So they’d skated around it, even though it was a bit of an elephant in the room, but it had kind of worked. She’d felt relieved she hadn’t had to scale the topic, content to climb that mountain another day. In the end, she’d left him with a kiss and a promise to return the next day for Jodi’s tuition, warmth pooling in her stomach as Nate had driven her away and she’d looked over her shoulder to see Ash standing in his doorway waving to her, smiling.

But she still hadn’t had a chance to process what Ash had revealed to her the previous night. It hung over her, huge as the UFOs over New York in
Independence Day
. She should totally have thought about this before she came to see her mother, but she’d already organised to visit on Saturday afternoon, and when Mia had said she’d go with her, she’d decided she wouldn’t back out. Now, she wished she had.

“That’s not a very polite thing to say when you know who I’ve been seeing,” she said defensively. She poured herself a glass of water and sat back down.

Isabella shrugged. “Sorry, love, but you know my views on that sort of thing. Anyway, I didn’t think you believed it either.”

“I didn’t.”

Isabella raised an eyebrow. “And now?”

“I…” Grace’s voice trailed off. “I’m not sure,” she said lamely. “He was very…convincing.”

“He was marvellous,” said Mia. “I believe him absolutely.”

Isabelle gave her a “why do you think your opinion matters to me” look and turned her attention back to her daughter. “What did he say to change your mind?”

“He spoke to Dad,” said Grace.

Isabella stared at her. Grace forced herself to meet her mother’s gaze.
 

“Oh?” The word was icy.

Normally such a freeze-out would have made Grace cave immediately, but for maybe the first time in her life, a peacefulness descended on her, and she lifted her chin. “He told me lots of things that he couldn’t possibly have known.”

“Like?”

“Like the day of Gillian’s funeral in Christchurch. About the necklaces made of shells Dad used to make me. About you and Dad dancing to ‘Brass in Pocket’ by The Pretenders at your wedding.”

Isabella surveyed her coolly. “Then he’s been speaking to people you know, or finding out the information on the Internet. You can find anything out on the Internet, you know. It’s all in the public domain.”

Knowing that Isabella had no idea what the public domain was and that she’d never Googled anything in her life, Grace frowned impatiently. “Dates of birth and anniversaries and names of my grandparents, yes. But intimate, personal details like these? It’s impossible, Mum. I don’t know how he did it, I can’t explain it, but I was there, he was right in front of me and there was no doubt he wasn’t faking it.”

“Of course he was. You’ve been duped, my dear. He’s obviously a charlatan, out to ensnare unsuspecting women, and you’ve fallen for it.” Isabella was the epitome of scorn, as if she’d expected nothing better from her only daughter.

Grace’s cheeks grew hot. “That’s unfair. You haven’t met him, Mum. He’s a lovely man—he’s kind, caring and honest. He used to be a GP. He couldn’t trick anyone if he tried.”

“My love, you are the most gullible creature in the universe. You’d believe aliens existed if someone told you they’d seen them.”

“If someone I trusted told me, I’d at least give them the benefit of the doubt,” she said hotly.

“It’s ridiculous. Speaking to the dead. Hah! Mind reading is what it is, Grace. I’ve read about brainwaves and how people can tap into other people’s memories. You’re a scientist—doesn’t that sound more like an explanation to you?”

Grace said nothing. In truth, it
was
a more sensible explanation, and her mother knew that thought was going through her head. Isabella smiled smugly and tears of frustration pricked Grace’s eyes.

She opened her mouth to say something, but Mia put her hand on Grace’s arm, cleared her throat and spoke first. “Hey, Isabella, I wanted to ask you, have you ever seen a necklace with the word ‘Love’ on it? Like, the word ‘Love’ in writing, hanging from a chain by two gold hoops?”

Isabella looked at her impatiently. “Yes—Bill gave it to me when we got engaged.”

Grace’s heart missed a beat. She stared at her mother. “I’ve never seen that.”

Isabella shrugged. “I didn’t like it much—too gaudy, too obvious. I keep it for sentimental reasons, of course, but I never wear it.” She looked from Mia to Grace, her eyes growing wary. “You would have seen it, though. I must have shown it to you at some point.”

“No, I’ve never seen it,” said Grace breathlessly. Her heart pounded. “I thought Dad bought you a ring when you got engaged.”

“He did. He gave me the necklace afterward, when we booked the church.” Isabella had grown pale, but there were twin spots of colour on her cheeks. “You would have seen it, Grace. You lived with me for eighteen years—you can’t tell me you didn’t come across it in all that time.”

Grace said nothing. Her heart was singing. She looked at Mia, whose eyes were full of happiness for her. Then she looked back at her mother.

“I think it’s time we went.”

Isabella’s face was a picture of disapproval. “I only want to make sure you don’t get hurt,” she said tightly. “This man is no good for you, Grace—he’s only out to trick you, and I know it’s going to end badly.”

Grace leaned over and kissed her mother’s cheek. “Thanks for being concerned for me, Mum, but you don’t know him at all. He’s lovely, and he makes me very happy. And I think it’s about time I started making my own decisions when it comes to my love life.”

“Doesn’t he have a teenager daughter? Did you think about that? You’ll be a stepmother at twenty-nine. And do you think he’s going to want children now? Don’t you want a family, love?” Suddenly, Isabella’s eyes were sad. “I want you to have it all. Life’s difficult enough without adding these complications to it.”

Grace felt a twinge of doubt deep down. It was true—she hadn’t considered these things. But she wasn’t going to admit that to her mother now. “I’ll be fine,” she said, following Mia into the hall. “I’ll bring him to meet you one day.”

She kissed her mother goodbye and got in the car, and Mia headed onto the main road and back to the centre of town.

She glanced across at Grace as she drove. “Uh-oh.”

“Yeah,” said Grace. She tipped her head back on the headrest and sighed. “Crap, this is so complicated. I don’t even know if he wants a relationship yet, and I’m thinking about adopting his daughter and having his babies.”

Mia shrugged. “That’s natural, hon. You’d be abnormal if you
didn’t
think about those sorts of things. You get on well with Jodi, don’t you?”

“Yes, but that was before I started seeing her dad.”

“I’m sure she wants her dad to be happy.”

“You’ve obviously never been a teenager. ‘Rational’ isn’t in their vocabulary. She’s had her dad to herself for years—how’s she going to take a new woman coming into his life and taking away his attention?”

“It happens all the time nowadays. There’s hardly a ‘normal’ family left anymore. Most of her friends’ parents will be divorced. Most kids nowadays have half-brothers and -sisters and stepbrothers and -sisters.”

That, at least, was true. Grace tried to force down the wave of panic that threatened to overwhelm her. She’d felt so happy when her mother told her about the necklace. Damn Isabella for making her leave on a downer.

“Don’t over-think it,” said Mia, reaching out to squeeze her hand. “You’ve just got to take it slowly, sweetie, and let everything develop at its own pace. The important thing is that you’re willing to believe in him. It doesn’t mean you have to throw out all your belief systems. He doesn’t need someone fawning all over him—it will be good for him if you retain some healthy scepticism. And you don’t have to marry him tomorrow. All it means is that now you can start dating him properly. You can get to know him without the huge barrier of your beliefs between you.”

“Yes, you’re right.” Grace tried to take deep breaths to calm herself. “I keep panicking when I think about having to justify myself, to him, and to me. I thought I had to explain to both of us how I feel about what he did last night, but I suppose I don’t have to. As you say, all it means is that I can now move forward without feeling like he’s deceiving me, and I’m deceiving myself.”

Mia nodded, smiling. “You don’t have to work it all out today. Or this week. Or even this year. All in good time. What’s happened is that your mind’s been opened, and that’s got to be a good thing.”

It was a beautiful spring day and Jodi was sketching in the garden. She had some kind of art project, and she was currently kneeling in front of a palm tree, studying the bark up close, trying to decipher the patterns on it.

“How’s it going?” said Ash, crouching down next to her.

She tipped her head and pulled a face. “Not terrific. I can’t seem to get the lines on the bark right.”

“What about doing a rubbing?” He placed a piece of paper over the bark, took a piece of her charcoal and rubbed its flat length across the tree. The bumps and dips underneath showed up as thick black lines on the paper.

“Oh God, why didn’t I think of that?” She took it from him and copied what he’d done.

“It might make the pattern clearer—you can then sketch it freehand later.” He sat beside her and studied her as she worked. She was very pale and there were dark smudges under her eyes. She also looked as if she’d lost weight. He wondered if she were eating properly. He knew you had to watch teenage girls with their fixation on weight and body shape, and he always made sure she had a decent, healthy breakfast, but even though she fixed herself a packed lunch every day, there was no way of knowing whether she was actually eating it, or whether it found its way into a bin somewhere. And although they usually ate an evening meal together, quite often she was off seeing friends. She always promised him she’d get something while she was out, but he wasn’t stupid enough to think she never lied to him.

“How’s it going?” he said, knowing it was a useless line of conversation, but also knowing he had to try anyway.

“Good.” She sat back and looked at the charcoal rubbing, seemingly pleased with the result. Suddenly, she glanced up at him. “How’s it going with you?”

“Good.” He twitched under her steady stare. “What?”

“I heard you singing in the kitchen earlier on.”

He shifted on the hard ground. “I always sing in the kitchen.”

“No you don’t. You’re happy.” She smiled then, and she looked so like her mother his breath caught in his throat. “You’ve been seeing Miss Fox, haven’t you?”

“I…” He paused. He didn’t want to lie to her. “Yes,” he said, laughing as she pushed him. “What?”

“I knew it!”

“She came to my show last night.”

Jodi’s eyes lit up. “Oh, really? What did she think?”

“Her father came through. Right at the end. She made me read for her.”

“And?”

“Well, she fainted, but I’m taking that as a good sign.”

“Oh God, Dad, really.”

He smiled. “I think it helped.” He hesitated. Should he tell her? He decided honesty was the best policy. “She…she stayed over last night.”

For a brief second—so quick he wondered if he’d imagined it—her eyes went flat and expressionless, but then they cleared and she smiled, moving toward him and putting her arms around his neck. “Oh, I’m so pleased for you.”

“Really?” He hugged her back. “I wasn’t sure how you’d feel about it.”

“I told you I thought you should start dating again.”

“I know. But the reality’s sometimes different. And I don’t want it to be awkward for you because she’s your teacher.”
 

“Honestly, Dad, it’s fine. I won’t tell anyone.”

He pulled back and cupped her face. “I don’t want you to think I’m bringing anyone in to replace Mum.”

Her eyes clouded but she said, “I know. It’s okay, really.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yeah. She’s gone, Dad.” Her jaw was set firmly. “I want you to be happy.”

“I want you to be happy too.” He kissed her forehead. Even though he’d divorced Angela, and their separation had been difficult, he wanted Jodi to be able to talk about her mother to him, but she hardly ever did. It seemed to make her uncomfortable rather than sad, which puzzled him, but he tried not to stress about it too much. They’d tried counselling, and Jodi had spoken to the counsellor about Angela and the accident. Apparently she just didn’t want to talk to him about it. He sensed that was contributing to her recent unhappiness, but he didn’t know what else he could do about it, other than make it clear he was there for her, if she did ever want to talk.

As usual, he changed the subject. “Talking of being happy, any sign of a boy on the horizon? Anyone you got your eye on?”

She went scarlet and he smiled. “I thought so. What’s his name?”