Little Kiosk By The Sea (18 page)

‘It was the town’s scandal of the decade. Everyone was talking about the vicar’s wife’s affair with a parishioner. And that was before she became pregnant. There was even talk of the church funds being embezzled – thankfully that wasn’t true. I left because I couldn’t stand being the object of ridicule or pity.’

‘She was a vicar’s wife?’

Mutely Harriet nodded.

‘Was she a friend?’

Harriet shook her head. ‘I knew her, of course. We met for the first time in this house but we never really got the chance to be friends. She was only here a couple of months before she stole my husband.’

‘What’s the name of this woman?’

‘Does it matter?’

Ellie nodded. ‘Yes, of course it does. I need to know all the details.’

‘Vanessa Harford,’ Harriet said reluctantly.

‘And my father’s name?’

‘Oscar. Oscar Widdicombe.’

‘Do you know where he is now? Can I meet him? I want to know what he’s like. I know you think you acted in my best interests concealing things all these years, but I have the right to meet my real father. Which I intend to do.’

Harriet bit her lip as she looked at Ellie. ‘I’m sorry, love. He died about a year before Amy.’ Her words fell into a silence that lengthened

‘You should have told me before. Given me the chance to meet him,’ Ellie said. She drained her glass of wine in three large gulps and stood up. ‘I’m going out – I need to think. I can’t believe this.’

‘Dad will be back soon for dinner.’ Harriet protested.

‘You mean “Frank” will be back. I’m not hungry any more,’ Ellie said. ‘I’ll see you later.’ She was gone, the front door closing noisily behind her.

Frank, returning half an hour later, found Harriet sobbing in the kitchen as she tried to baste the lamb through her tears.

‘You’ve finally told her, then?’ he said, taking the roasting tray from her and replacing it in the oven, before taking her in his arms.

Harriet sank against him gratefully. ‘Yes, and it’s all gone wrong.’

‘Where is she?’

Harriet shrugged. ‘Went out. Said she wasn’t hungry.’ She moved out of Frank’s arms and reached for a piece of kitchen paper to wipe her eyes.

‘Oh, Frank, what have I done? We were having such a good time together before she found a photo of me holding her and started asking questions. I SO wish you’d been here. I’ve hurt her so much and I don’t know what to do now.’

‘When she gets back, we’ll sit her down and talk to her together. Explain our reasons for taking the decisions we did. It’s all a bit of a shock but I know she’ll come round. Angry at first but things will sort. When is her solicitor’s appointment?’

‘Day after tomorrow,’ Harriet said. ‘I hadn’t even told her about that before she went out.’

Ellie hadn’t returned when dinner was ready and Harriet and Frank sat in silence at the table, Harriet literally finding herself unable to swallow the meal she’d prepared. Frank’s usual hearty appetite seemed diminished too. Harriet cleared the table, offered Frank another glass of wine before topping up her own glass and said, ‘Think I might make a start on Amy’s study.’

‘Do you want a hand?’

Harriet shook her head. ‘Not right now, thanks. I really want to be by myself for a bit.’

In the study she pulled out Amy’s office chair and sat facing the computer for several moments before swivelling around and facing the rest of the room. Where to start? So many books. So many files and boxes. What to do with the all the stuff? Who knew whether Amy had any more secrets to be discovered?

Harriet sighed. Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to tackle it on her own. Once Ellie’s appointment with Trevor Bagshawe was out of the way, she’d ask both Frank and Ellie to give her a hand sorting it out. Doing it as a family could be a way to help ease Ellie’s pain. Talk it all out as they sorted Amy’s things.

One thing she could do though now the secret was out, was to put the photos she’d hidden away out on display again.

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

RACHEL

Sitting in her favourite place, on the top step under the jasmine-covered arch over the three stone steps that led down from the terrace to her small garden, Rachel sniffed the air appreciatively. Early evening and the sweet smell of the night-scented jasmine was heady.

Sipping her glass of rosé, Rachel tried to marshal her chaotic thoughts into some sort of order. To try to make some firm decisions.

The sounds of BB in the kitchen preparing supper for them both drifted out through the open window. Offering BB the spare room had turned out to be one of her better decisions. He was an excellent lodger – more of a friend now than simply a lodger – he’d slotted into the house and her life so well. It was like having Hugo living at home again.

Hugo. Now she had to think about his email that had pinged into her mailbox an hour ago. Suggesting a date for the family to visit. Restlessly Rachel stood up and began to move around the garden, stopping to pull the occasional weed, smell a rose, before leaning against the trunk of the gnarled apple tree that should really be pulled up, all the while trying to sort out things in her mind.

What had Hugo said before she left France? Something about life throwing curved balls into plans. Well, her life had certainly had enough curved balls thrown into it over the years to scupper a national cricket team. The fall out from last year’s expected but unhappy event had certainly changed her life. Leaving France was meant to set her on the right course for the rest of her life. She didn’t need another of those blasted curved balls winging its way towards her.

One she’d never anticipated. One, if she were truthful, she didn’t know how to handle. Running away to avoid the situation that was closing in around her was becoming more and more appealing. But how to explain her reasoning to Hugo? Where to run? Hugo and his family she knew would welcome her back to France. Had never wanted her to leave. Or should she go somewhere completely new? Somewhere she could be herself, where the past didn’t intrude on the present.

‘Another glass of rosé before supper?’ BB called from the kitchen.

‘Thanks,’ Rachel said. She stood up and began to make her way back to the kitchen. ‘Something smells good.’

‘Chicken with orange and tarragon. My Mom’s favourite supper dish,’ BB said. ‘Ready in about fifteen minutes.’ He glanced at her. ‘You looked deep in thought out there.’

Rachel nodded but didn’t explain, saying instead, ‘Shall we eat out here? I’ll fetch everything.’ To her relief BB didn’t press her about her thoughts as she covered the table with a cloth and fetched the cutlery.

An hour later, as they finished their meal and Rachel said, ‘Truly delicious, BB, thank you,’ the doorbell rang.

‘Bit late for visitors,’ Rachel said.

‘Do you want me to go?’ BB asked.

‘No, it’s okay,’ Rachel said, standing up as the doorbell peeled urgently again.

Johnnie was standing on the doorstep with a tearful Carla in his arms. As Rachel opened the door, the child leant towards her holding out her arms. Touched, Rachel scooped the child into her own arms and hugged her tight. She sensed Johnnie’s relief as Carla’s arms went around her neck and she quietened.

‘I’m so, so sorry to land on you,’ Johnnie said. ‘But I’m at my wits’ end. I’d have gone to Sabine but she’s out tonight.’

‘Not a problem,’ Rachel said. ‘Come on through to the terrace.’

‘She’s been grumpy all day,’ Johnnie said. ‘I was hoping once I put her to bed she’d sleep and wake up happier. But if anything, she’s got worse.’

He ran his hand through his hair. ‘Is she ill? Should I have gone to the doctors?’

Cuddling Carla and gently stroking her head, Rachel looked at Johnnie. ‘Her cheeks are very flushed. I think she’s teething, poor little mite. You’ll need to brace yourself for a long night. Go to the chemist in the morning, they’ll suggest something for her gums that will help. In the meantime, if you’ve any ice cubes at home, try gently rubbing her gums with one.’

‘Right. Okay. Will do,’ Johnnie said. ‘If you’re sure that’s all it is.’ He looked at Carla now sucking her thumb as she snuggled against Rachel. ‘Come on then, young lady. Let’s get you home.’

Rachel felt the arm around her neck tighten and the child press herself against her.

‘How about I walk down to your place?’ she said. ‘I’m enjoying the cuddle and she’s happy for the moment.’

‘You sure? She’s not too heavy for you?’ Johnnie said.

‘It’s not far. I’ll be fine.’

Carla fell asleep as Rachel walked the short distance down to Johnnie’s cottage. Rachel gently laid her in the cot while Johnnie covered her with the quilt and they tiptoed out of the room.

Downstairs Johnnie said, ‘Do you have to rush? Got time for a glass of wine?’

Rachel shook her head. ‘I’d better get back. BB cooked supper so I have a kitchen to clean!’ Resolutely she ignored the disappointment on Johnnie’s face.

‘I should grab some sleep yourself while Carla sleeps,’ she said. ‘Might be a long night.’

‘Good idea,’ Johnnie said. ‘Rachel, I can’t thank you enough for coming to the rescue yet again.’

Before she’d realised his intention, he leant in and kissed her. Not a friendly kiss on the cheek. A proper one on the lips that seemed to Rachel to last for ever.

As he moved back, Rachel took a deep breath. Best to stop this before it went any further.

‘Let’s pretend that didn’t happen, shall we?’ she said. ‘Don’t want to spoil a beautiful friendship.’

Quickly she opened the door and left.

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

ELLIE

Ellie had no idea where she was going when she fled the house in Swannaton. All she knew was she had to get away. Find some space to think.

The lights, the sound of disco music from a boat out on the river, the lower ferry ramp clanking onto the slipway, people sitting on the quay eating fish and chips out of polystyrene boxes. All this was lost on Ellie as she pounded along the pavement, determinedly brushing past people enjoying a leisurely stroll in the calm of the evening.

Why the hell had Mum and Da … Frank, kept everything a secret for so long? They should have told her years ago. Slipped it into the conversation when she was, what? Six? Ten? Or even younger. Isn’t that what adoptive parents were advised to do these days? Tell the child at a young age? Talk about being the ‘chosen’ one. Let her grow up with the knowledge. Make it easier to accept. Hell, would they even have told her if this Amy person hadn’t pulled the lid off the whole sordid mess with this legacy?

Of course only one half of her had been adopted. Mum was already her mum. Had Frank adopted her because Mum had insisted? Or did he adopt her because he genuinely wanted her as his daughter?

Ellie slowed as she approached the kiosk, remembering how Sabine had chatted to her without the merest hint of having known her as a small child. Had she known that Harriet was about to destroy Ellie’s world on this family holiday? So many questions buzzing around in her head.

She sighed. A mere seven hours in this town and again her life had been turned upside down – just when she’d thought she’d got both her personal and working life under control.

Why was she so upset over the news that she was Frank’s adopted daughter? She wasn’t a child any more. Or even a teenager with out-of-control hormones reacting to unwelcome news. She was a grown woman who, like Harriet, had been hurt by the actions of a lover in her own life – although, thank god, she hadn’t been married to Rod.

Would she have fought for him if she had been or would she still have run and hidden to lick her wounds? Where had she run anyway? Back to Mum and Frank. People whom she knew loved her. People she knew would always take her in. Be there for her, no questions asked. It must have been hard for Mum, leaving Dartmouth all those years ago, with no family of her own to turn to for help.

Ellie stopped in front of the shuttered kiosk, taking some deep breaths and trying to analyse things in a rational way. Was she over-reacting? Thinking about it logically, the news was more upsetting than life threatening. Standing there looking at, but not truly seeing the river scene, the truth struck her. It wasn’t the fact that she’d been denied the chance to meet and know her biological father that really hurt.

It was the knowledge Frank wasn’t her real dad that hurt so much. She’d always thought she was more like him than Mum in so many ways. More of his genes had created a special bond between them. Now, the truth was, she didn’t share the same genes. The belief had been shattered.

‘Are you all right?’ A quiet voice broke into her thoughts. ‘You’re not about to jump into the river, are you?’

Ellie shook her head but didn’t turn to look at the woman who’d spoken. If she didn’t make eye contact, hopefully the woman would walk on by.

‘No is the answer to both your questions. I’m not all right, but I’m not about to drown myself. I’ve had a shock, but I’ll live.’

‘Glad to hear it,’ the woman said, not moving.

Ellie took a deep breath. She could almost feel the intense gaze of the woman checking her out. Please go away, she willed. If she didn’t say anything else, hopefully the woman would get the hint and walk on by. The silence between them lengthened. Finally Ellie sighed and turned to face the woman.

‘Honestly, I’m fine. Except … except I’m having a hard time coming to terms with finding out that I’m not who I thought I was.’

‘Yes you are. Nobody else can be you. Whatever people say, whatever life throws at you, the only person you can truly be is you.’

Ellie shook her head. ‘You have no idea how unhelpful that remark is right now. Thanks for your concern.’ She turned away from the woman and began to walk in the direction of Swannaton. She needed to get back to Harriet and Frank. It was time for a no-holds-barred talk. No way was she was going to be fobbed off with less than the whole truth from either of them.

Dutifully, Ellie tried to eat some of the dinner Harriet had kept for her before pushing it away. ‘Sorry, Mum, nice as it is, I’m not really hungry.’ She picked up her glass of red wine and said, ‘Shall we do this in Amy’s study?’ Without a word, both Harriet and Frank followed her.