by Anita Waller
He kept his finger on the receiver rest for several seconds wishing Dawn hadn’t asked him to do this. He didn’t want to get involved. He didn’t want to be a part of something that was going to cause grief for all concerned.
Matters were worse when Amy answered.
‘No sorry, David, he isn’t here. He and Mark have gone out somewhere. They didn’t tell me what they were doing, just said they’d be a couple of hours. Can I leave a message for John?’
‘No, just ask him to ring me. It’s only a query on the book, nothing urgent.’
It was only as he replaced the receiver that he realised she might put non urgent on the note she left for him. Heaven only knew when John might get around to calling.
He picked up his jacket and went into the reception area.
‘Just going out, Linda. Er… if John calls in tell him I need to speak to him as a matter of urgency.’
‘It’s Dawn, isn’t it?’ She looked anxious. ‘Oh, don’t worry I guessed a long time ago. Is the baby coming?’
He nodded. ‘And I can’t get in touch with John. He’s not at home. I thought I’d nip down to the car park in Padstow, see if I can see his car. Thank God we don’t live in a big city; I wouldn’t know where to start. Look, give Dawn a ring and tell her I’m having trouble locating him but I’ll find him somehow.’
Linda allowed the phone to ring for a long time into an empty lounge – Dawn was already on her way to hospital.
‘It’s a good job you came in when you did, Mrs Lynch,’ the midwife said cheerfully. ‘You’re already six centimetres dilated. You shouldn’t be too long.’
Dawn bit her lip as another contraction began its steady build. John, where are you? Her mind screamed. I need you, I need you, damn it!
‘Is somebody going to be with you, lovey?’
‘I hope so,’ she muttered through clenched teeth. ‘I’ve left messages for him.’
‘Well, let’s hope he gets here in time. You’re well on your way now.’
She was only vaguely aware of what was happening around her; the contractions were increasing in length and intensity. She had to focus and shut out the world.
As John walked through the Labour Suite door she was busy being sick.
‘There, there, dear,’ he heard the midwife say. ‘Most of our mums are sick just before delivery. It’s a good sign.’
He moved her head gently on to the pillow and she smiled weakly up at him.
‘I hate you, John Thornton.’
‘I know,’ he said bending to kiss her forehead. ‘It’s a good job I’ve enough love for the two of us. Has it been awful?’
‘Piece of cake,’ she responded. ‘Rock cake.’
He held on to her hand and watched her face change as the pain began again. He was concentrating so hard on holding her and talking her through it that he didn’t really notice instructions being given to her.
‘It’s a boy!’ the midwife called out.
They cried together.
‘God, Dawn, if I’d been another twenty minutes I’d have missed this.’ There was awe, wonder, love and pain in his voice.
He stared down at the child wrapped in a blue blanket and didn’t try to stop the flow of tears.
‘He’s perfect, Dawn. Perfect.’
‘What did you expect?’ she responded, smiling. ‘He looks like you.’
He pulled the blanket to one side and stared down at the child.
‘He doesn’t, he looks more like Alfred Hitchcock.’
‘You wait,’ she said with a laugh. ‘Believe me, he looks like you. So – decision time. We have to decide between the three names we picked.’
‘Adam, Joshua and David.’ He moved the blanket and looked closely at his son smiling. ‘Thank goodness we didn’t include Alfred in that list. I think he looks like a Joshua. What do you think?’
‘Joshua John Thornton. I like it.’ Suddenly her face changed. ‘Now go and ring David – and thank him for finding you. Where does Amy think you are?’
‘With David making some changes to the book. It’s Mark who’s bewildered. He was with me when David finally found us and I drove like a madman to get Mark back to his own car at the office. I had to do a pretty sharp turn around to get here. Like something out of keystone cops. I just hope he didn’t click on to what was happening.’
‘And,’ she said smugly, ‘wasn’t it smart of me to do all this during the day? You can now go home to Amy and she’ll be none the wiser.’
She felt him stiffen.
‘How do you think I can go home to Amy and not be changed by today? You’re asking the impossible, Dawn. I need to be with you.’
‘And I know differently. I know you still love Amy and you’re devoted to Lauren. You’re one of those unfortunate men who can love two women at once. I accept that – and I think you must, or you’ll tear yourself in two.’
‘Well, I can’t normally see any parents resemblance in newborn babies,’ Pat said, staring down at the little one, ‘but he is definitely John Thornton’s.’
Dawn, still apprehensive at the unexpected visit, nodded.
‘I know. I’m wondering if I’m right in agreeing to call him Thornton. What if it causes problems later.’
Pat turned away from the baby and looked at Dawn.
‘I think this young man is going to cause problems anyway. Affairs have a strange way of being discovered, sooner or later. Amy will be a mighty adversary – make no mistake about that. I don’t think calling him Lynch will make a scrap of difference. And let’s be practical, Dawn.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Eventually John will quit this earthly life –‘ she held up a hand as if to stop Dawn from interrupting. ‘And when he does he’s going to be a very, very rich man. With Thornton on the birth certificate he has as much of a claim to his father’s estate as Lauren. You have to think of his future, Dawn. He didn’t ask to be born.’
Dawn’s smile was crooked. She was unsure how to respond to Pat. ‘His middle name is John.’
‘My word, you really do believe in playing with fire. For heaven’s sake don’t announce his birth in the local paper! I’m not sure I could lie to Amy – we’ve been best friends for too long.’
Dawn raised her head to look at her visitor.
‘Why did you come, Pat?’
Pat shrugged her shoulders.
‘Don’t ask me. David thinks I’ve gone to the cinema to escape being with the kids for a couple of hours. I just felt I had to see you. You see, Amy is my closest friend, has been since we were eleven, but I know things about her… anyway, what I’m really trying to say is that I don’t approve of John playing around but I don’t disapprove either. If things had been different, I would have put you down as John’s ideal match.’
‘But that still doesn’t explain why you came to see me.’
Pat grinned.
‘There’s a baby. I love babies. And in six months or so I’ll be back in here.’
‘Congratulations… have you told Amy?’
A cloud passed over Pat’s face.
‘That’s been the most difficult part of each pregnancy. The rape robbed her of everything you know.’
Dawn felt a shiver run through her. Rape?
Pat continued to speak unaware that she was imparting new information to Dawn.
‘When I found out about Amy’s past I made a point of pulling back copies of the newspapers that were around at the time; I needed to know details so that I didn’t put my foot in it. Treverick was an out and out bastard. He tore her apart…’ her voice trailed away and suddenly she understood the reason for the stunned expression on Dawn’s face. ‘You didn’t know, did you?’
‘I never wanted to know but to be honest I didn’t think it was anything like that. I’m still not sure I want to know but now I have to, don’t I? So sit here, Pat.’ She patted the armchair by the bed. ‘Talk to me. Tell me everything I should have asked at the beginning.’
40
1974 started very well for John. He was thirty-two years old with more money than he could ever have dreamed of and the two women in his life both loved him as much as he loved them.
He had long since learned to accept the fact that he did love them both and once that had sunk in he found Dawn’s reluctance to have him move in understandable.
The icing on the cake was that he had two children. Lauren at four years old was a treasure. He knew it was thanks to Brenda and Ken’s influence and he blessed them for it.
Amy’s business had taken off in a big way. She now employed two assistants in the shop and several outworkers. This left her with little time for her daughter but fortunately there were other people willing to step in.
Josh, nearly thirteen months old, was getting into more mischief than John would have thought possible and he worshipped him. Even he could now see the strong resemblance to himself; it was impossible to deny.
The blonde hair, blue eyes, high forehead and dimpled chin were all there – along with the height. The little boy was tall for his age and growing rapidly.
As John looked out of the window at the ever-deepening snow he reflected how well life was treating him. With the growth of Amy’s business she had channelled her energies and now was no longer being so vindictive.
She hadn’t been looking forward to the birth of Pat’s second son, Daniel, but at nine months he was a little charmer and of all the children in their lives she seemed to take to him the most. Certainly more than Lauren.
John reached into his back pocket and pulled out the letter that had arrived that morning.
Normally Mark would have seen it first and they would have discussed the implications but Mark was taking a few days holiday. John was grateful for that; he didn’t want to discuss it with anyone yet.
It was from the BBC, signed by someone called Brian Lazenby. He was a producer who wanted to make a series of programmes about writers. He asked that John contact him so that a meeting could be arranged.
Although he knew the publicity would be invaluable he was reluctant to go on television.
‘Not go on television? You must be crazy. Of course you’ll do it!’ He imagined David’s reaction.
He watched as Ken, Brenda and Lauren walked up the snow covered driveway, Ken’s limp still noticeable after months of treatment. Lauren saw him looking and waved. He heard stomping and laughter as all three came through into the lounge, hatless, coatless and shoeless.
‘Daddy!’ Lauren flung herself into his arms rubbing her wet hair into his face.
‘Stop it, brat. You’re wet,’ and he tried to hold her away from him. She giggled and pushed even harder.
‘Coffee? Tea?’ He looked at Brenda and Ken, taking in their bedraggled state.
Brenda nodded enthusiastically.
‘Yes please. Hot, strong and wet.’
‘Whisky,’ Ken growled. ‘These two women are wearing me out. I swear I won’t be half as tired when I get back to working in the garden again.’
John laughed and went to get Brenda’s tea. ‘Help yourself to the whisky, Ken,’ he called.
He made tea and carried the tray into the lounge before turning to Ken. ‘So when will that be?’
‘What?’
‘Work. When can you start again?’
‘The doctor says that all things being equal I can start doing light work towards the end of March.’
‘And it will only be light work,’ Brenda intervened. ‘We’ve had a rough time and I don’t intend on letting him over do it.’
‘Oh, stop fussing, lass.’ Ken shook his head. ‘The truth is, John, I can’t wait to get back to work. Malcolm’s been a godsend but until this accident I’ve never been out of work. He’s matured, has young Malcolm, and I know that when I do start back it’ll be different. He’s been used to being boss. The sooner I get back, the better.’ He sipped at the whisky and moved across to the window. Brenda’s eyes never left him.
‘You’re so stubborn, Ken Buckingham. The doctor said March at the earliest so don’t go thinking I’ll let you go back if you’re not fit.’
‘And I second that,’ John said. ‘You’re still favouring that right leg, Ken. You’d be crackers to put yourself back for the sake of an extra month.’
Ken turned round.
‘You’re ganging up on me! We didn’t come here to talk about that or for me to be bullied by my nearest and dearest. I’ll be fit, I promise.’
‘And here I am thinking maybe my daughter wanted to see her old dad…’ He laughed and swung Lauren round. She squealed and kicked out her legs.
‘Put me down, Daddy. Put me down. Listen to Nanny Brenda and Gramps Ken.’
He put her down and turned to them.
‘Something wrong?’
‘Nothing at all.’ Brenda smiled. ‘No, it’s just that we’re going up to the Peak District for a couple of weeks – Ken’s old haunts and he wants me to see them. We’d like to take Lauren if that’s okay with you and Amy?’
‘When?’
‘First two weeks in March.’
‘I’ll check with Amy but it sounds fine. Would you like to go, Lauren?’
The little girl nodded enthusiastically.
‘Gramps told me about things.’ She looked questioningly at Ken. ‘Frog rock?’
He laughed. ‘Toad’s Mouth, pet. It’s a rock, John, perfectly balanced, and it looks just like a toad. Quite famous it is. I said I’d take her to see it.’
John lifted Lauren on to his knee and held her close.
‘Well, I’ll miss you, sweetheart, but you’ll have a great time. I’ve got to tell you something though – it’s a foreign country. You’ll need to learn the language. Gramps Ken will teach you,’ and he winked at Ken.
‘Don’t listen to him, Lauren. Yorkshire’s not the foreign country, Cornwall is. There’s nowt up wit’ way I speak, is there, sitthee?’
‘Nay, duck,’ Lauren replied and all four dissolved into peals of laughter.
Mark was clearly impressed.
‘I have the first few days holiday since starting here and something like this arrives in the post. Why didn’t you ring me at home?’
‘I thought a lady might answer.’ John’s tone was dry and he tried hard not to smile.
‘Depends what time the phone call would have been,’ Mark answered with a grin.
Mark’s private life was definitely that. He’d only once mentioned anything about seeing Greta, a librarian he had come to know through collecting books for John.
‘Are you serious?’
‘Could be… we had a good holiday anyway.’ He didn’t add that as they had made love the face superimposed on Greta’s body had been that of Amy Thornton. ‘But enough of that. What are you going to do about this?’ He waved the letter in the air.
‘Nothing yet. I wanted to talk to you and David. I know what David will say, he’s all for publicity, but this is going to open me up. Know what I mean?’
‘Your life will no longer be restricted to the blurb on the back cover. People will know you intimately. From the way this reads the entire half hour will be devoted to you. That’s a lot of private life airing. Can you handle it? If you can’t I suggest you don’t mention this to David. For what it’s worth though, I say go for it.’
‘Why?’
‘You’re an interesting man. You’re young, extremely successful, got a nice family, and you’ve got me!’
John threw a well-aimed paper-clip. ‘I shan’t even mention you. I’ve got to let my public think I do all the work. In any case I can’t have the viewers dazzled by your ties.’
‘Nothing wrong with my ties. It’s just jealousy on your part. So – how do we reply to this?’
John walked across to the window and looked out at the snow covered garden. The big snowman in the middle of the lawn seemed to be winking at him. He made a decision that was to bring major change to his life without giving it further thought.
‘We ring David.’
John and Am
y took to Brian Lazenby immediately. He was about five feet ten inches tall, stocky with brown-blonde hair. A ready smile enhanced a rounded face and the dark rimmed glasses lent him an air of maturity.
His brown eyes flashed warmth as he turned to Amy.
‘I’m absolutely delighted to meet you both. I’ve been a fan for so long.’
John laughed.
‘I bet you’ve said the same thing to all the authors in the series.’
‘Not likely. There’s one thing you’ll learn about me, John. I speak the truth. I don’t read a lot, don’t have the time, but I would stand in a queue for one of your books. I wouldn’t pick up a romance, sci-fi, or supernatural. The first programme in the series is with an author who writes for Mills and Boon. A lovely lady but it’s hard to raise the enthusiasm. I’ve had to read a couple of her books obviously, to get the feel of the programme, but that genre is not my choice. You have a devious mind, John Thornton, and I want to see where the ideas come from.’
‘So where do you want to start?’
Brian smiled. ‘I have to go into Padstow and book into my hotel. I wanted to meet you so I came straight here but if you’ll give me an hour to get myself sorted, I’ll be back out here notebooks at the ready.’
‘You’re staying in Padstow? But surely you’d be better staying here?’ John turned to look at Amy. It was the first time she had opened her mouth apart from saying hello. He never suspected she was about to make the offer of accommodation.
‘Mrs Thornton, I wouldn’t presume…’
‘It’s Amy,’ she said quickly. ‘And you’re not presuming, I’m inviting you. Carol Jacks is our housekeeper. She will be delighted to have a guest. She normally only has the three of us to look after,’ she added.
‘You’ve made my day, Amy. I’ll cancel the hotel and take you up on the offer. It’ll take about a week to follow your husband around and sort out the way the programme should be filmed. Then I’ll go back to London, organise the crew, and we’ll be back to do the actual filming. The series is going out in August.’
