Lucy’s Book Club for the Lost and Found: A heart-warming feel-good romance novel

by Emma Davies

  ‘He is,’ agreed Callum. ‘Apparently that’s the only reason I’m still in one piece.’

  ‘So, even though he’s a policeman, he’s still the sort that goes around threatening people, is he? What a total thug.’

  ‘I think he thought he had just cause.’

  Lucy narrowed her eyes. ‘Jealousy? I saw Phoebe in the library earlier, didn’t I? What did she have to say? Does she know what he’s like?’

  Callum speared another chip. ‘No, and I’m not about to bloody tell her. She’s on her own with this one, I’m afraid. She thinks they’re madly in love, and now that she’s dangled me in front of him like a carrot, he’s suddenly become Mr Absolutely Wonderful and can do no wrong.’

  ‘What do you mean, she dangled you like a carrot?’

  ‘Well, it’s my fault of course, but I honestly didn’t think I was doing any harm. All the time I was helping Phoebe with the wedding, she was dropping not-so-subtle hints to Gary to make him jealous.’

  ‘So, that worked well then.’

  ‘Yeah, too well,’ replied Callum ruefully. ‘I don’t have a huge opinion of myself, but I feel totally played if I’m honest. I guess it’s just one I’ll have to chalk up to experience. I got it wrong. It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve misjudged someone’s character.’

  ‘Only because you naturally look for the good in people, and well… Sometimes they’re not.’

  ‘And sometimes I’m an idiot.’

  Lucy heaved a sigh. ‘Will you stop that!’ she exclaimed. ‘Honestly, Callum, you’ve done nothing wrong. You were trying to help someone out of the goodness of your heart and they’ve both behaved badly. It sounds to me as if they’re well suited. She’s a manipulative… whatnot… and he’s an out-and-out thug.’

  Callum took another sip of tea, watching the liquid settle back in the cup. He stared at it for a moment or two, before clearing his throat.

  ‘Thank you,’ he said, softly, looking up at her suddenly. ‘For not misjudging me, I mean,’ he added. ‘Most people would have assumed there’s no smoke without fire when I mentioned what Phoebe’s boyfriend had done… and probably think that Gary was justified in wanting to thump me. After all, I have been spending rather a lot of time with her.’

  ‘Yes, but you’re friends, that’s all. There was nothing in it. We’re friends and there’s nothing…’ she stopped suddenly. ‘I mean, any of your mates would know that you’d never do anything inappropriate. You’re nice, Callum. You’re generous, caring, have a great sense of humour and I…’ she stopped again. ‘Well, why wouldn’t I believe you?’ She shoved a huge chunk of fish into her mouth and began to chew.

  ‘Don’t stop,’ he said with a grin. ‘I was beginning to quite enjoy that!’

  Lucy blushed. ‘I just meant that you have all these good qualities that you never give yourself credit for, but perhaps other people do. Not people like Gary and Phoebe, obviously, but… other people,’ she finished.

  ‘Like you?’ asked Callum, trying not to laugh.

  ‘Yes, me, okay?’ she replied, sticking out her tongue. ‘You know what I mean. Stop teasing me.’ She could feel her insides doing strange things that had nothing to do with her dinner, but at least Callum was looking better – and feeling better, hopefully. ‘Seriously, though,’ she began. ‘Gary’s not going to cause a problem for you, is he?’

  ‘I shouldn’t think so. I practically fainted when he had me by the scruff of the neck; he could see I’m not going to give him any trouble. He just wanted to make a point, that’s all, and I’m very good at keeping out of people’s way when I want to. Neither he nor Phoebe will have any cause to talk to me again, I can guarantee it.’

  Lucy nodded. ‘Was that what you wanted to talk to me about earlier? At the library.’

  ‘No, something else entirely… only I’m not sure whether I should.’

  ‘Only one way to find out,’ she replied, pushing a chip into a pool of sauce.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  It was hard for Callum to know where to begin. He probably should have spoken to Lucy about Oscar way before now, but the old man was so keen to keep their conversations from her for some reason. Perhaps he had already spoken to her about his daughter and Lucy had advised him not to try and find her?

  Callum was anxious not to do the wrong thing here, and he certainly didn’t want to upset either Lucy or Oscar, but at the present moment in time he was finding it difficult to see how he could avoid breaking his commitment to one of them.

  ‘How well do you know Oscar?’ he asked eventually.

  ‘Oscar? Well, outside of the book club I chat to him most days he’s in the library, but it’s small talk mostly – I wouldn’t say I know him well.’ She paused for a moment. ‘I saw you together today at lunch, didn’t I? Have you been helping him on the computers?’

  Callum pulled a face. ‘In a roundabout way,’ he said. ‘Although, probably not in the way you think.’ He ran a hand around the back of his neck, massaging the muscle there, which was beginning to ache. ‘The problem is, though – I don’t think I’m supposed to talk you about… this particular thing. Oscar thinks it might upset you. But I really could do with some advice, and that means telling you, doesn’t it?’

  ‘I guess so.’ Lucy shrugged. ‘But what could Oscar and you be talking about that would upset me…?’ She stared at Callum. ‘Unless…’

  ‘What?’ asked Callum, hoping desperately that Lucy’s response would mean he didn’t have to spell it out.

  ‘Well, there is something we’ve spoken about but it’s a very private thing, and, poor Oscar; I’ve never seen someone so upset. I don’t think he’d really ever spoken about it with anyone before, so it was like he was feeling it for the first time; such an awful raw grief.’

  She looked up at him and he was startled to see tears welling in her eyes.

  ‘It was horrible,’ she added. ‘He was so sad, even after all this time. This… thing happened years ago.’

  It couldn’t be anything else, reasoned Callum. They had to be talking about the same thing. His eyes softened as he looked at her face, so distressed by the thought of what Oscar was going through. Without thinking he reached across the table and took her hand, just as she had done for him earlier.

  ‘He had a daughter,’ he said quietly.

  ‘Yes,’ she whispered back. ‘One who was taken from him and Mary at birth. Oh, Callum, they had so much love to give, but they were never able to give it – and now Mary’s gone, and it’s too late.’

  He squeezed her fingers gently. ‘No, Lucy,’ he said. ‘It’s not too late. We’ve found her. We’ve found Oscar’s daughter.’

  Lucy sat up straight, her astonished eyes searching his. A tear glinted at one corner, which she impatiently brushed away.

  ‘How?’ she asked, but then almost as soon as she said it, nodding in understanding as she put two and two together. ‘That’s what you’ve been helping Oscar with,’ she said. ‘Oh my God, Callum – thank you so much. Is he going to see her?’

  Her face was suddenly so excited that Callum felt awful. He smiled at her reassuringly, wanting to keep the smile on her face, but knowing that she would see through his expression in an instant. And she did; the hand not clutching at his flew to her mouth.

  ‘Oh no, what’s happened?’

  Callum stared down at his plate, the last congealing chips now forgotten. ‘I had an email,’ he explained, ‘from the charity we contacted to try to help find Oscar’s daughter. It confirmed that they’d been able to locate her, but they also warned that the lady had placed a “no contact” note on her file a few years ago.’

  Lucy frowned. ‘What does that mean?’

  ‘It means, that if at some point in the future someone came looking for her, she has no desire to be found. In other words, she did not want her details passed on to either of her birth parents.’

  ‘I was so scared for Oscar that something like this might happen if he ever tried to find her. I can’t beli
eve that it can end like this though. Isn’t there anything that Oscar or you can do?’

  ‘Well, the email said that Oscar should think about what he wanted to do. He could either accept that his daughter doesn’t want to be contacted, or the organisation could contact her to double-check that’s really what she wants. In some cases when a “no contact” note is placed on the file, adoptees still change their minds; over the years circumstances change, feelings change – but there are no guarantees. Once they’ve given their decision, it’s final. The birth parent “shouldn’t underestimate the emotional distress that this could cause”, they said, and they’re supposed to think very carefully before asking them to go ahead and make contact.’

  Lucy nodded. ‘So, what has Oscar decided?’ she asked, anxiety written across her face.

  Callum held her look before dropping his gaze. ‘He doesn’t know about the no-contact thing,’ he said quietly. ‘I didn’t tell him. I couldn’t.’ He looked up again into Lucy’s understanding eyes. ‘How could I, Lucy? He’d just found out his daughter was alive. How could I tell him that she didn’t want to see him? It would break his heart. Again.’

  ‘Oh, Callum,’ said Lucy, and she moved her other hand to cover his in silent understanding.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Hattie lifted the bags carefully from the back seat and, holding them aloft, gingerly closed the car door; it would be just like her to slam it and catch the edge of one of the dresses – and that would be it, she’d have to start all over again. Grease, mud and silk were never going to make a good match.

  Satisfied that she’d skirted that particular hurdle, she picked her way up the path to her sister’s house and pressed the doorbell with her elbow, the weight of the dresses heavy in her arms. She should be looking forward to this evening – a celebration of weeks of hard work, making her forget her aching back and tender fingers in an instant – but although Hattie was thrilled to bits with the end results of her labours, she was terrified of what Jules might think.

  She was just about to ring the bell again, when the door was flung open and Jules stood there beaming at her.

  ‘Oh, God, I wasn’t sure if you were coming!’ she gushed.

  ‘I’m ten minutes late, that’s all.’ She laughed. ‘Of course I’d be coming.’ Hattie wriggled the bags in her arms, trying to get a better grip. ‘Well, can I come in or not? These weigh a ton.’ She moved past her sister, wiping her feet carefully on the mat and treading onto the pale carpet with a prayer. ‘I’ll just take my shoes off, shall I?’ she said, turning to deposit the bags in Jules’s arms.

  A few moments later the precious cargo was laid out onto the settee and Hattie was looking around the room. She was pleased to see that Jules had brought the large standing mirror down from her bedroom and switched on all the lamps as well as the lights. It probably wasn’t ideal, trying on her wedding dress at night, but there was no other time to do it; Hattie’s babysitter was getting booked up with early Christmas parties. At least the artificial light would make the beadwork sparkle.

  Jules had already slipped out of her jeans and was now pulling her top carefully over her head. Hattie had insisted that she wear her hair up; she wanted to be able to see the curve of her neck and how well the cut of the dress flattered her shoulders.

  Finally, her sister stood before her and Hattie was ready to lift her creation over her head and settle it around her.

  ‘Close your eyes,’ she said. ‘Until I tell you.’

  She buttoned up the back of the dress, pleased that it closed easily while still remaining close to the skin, just how she had designed it. She checked the fall of material at the back before moving to the front and adjusting the sleeves slightly. She stood back to give it one last objective look and breathed out a slow, steadying breath. It was perfect.

  ‘Okay, you can open your eyes now – but no peeking. Just pop your shoes on and then you can turn around.’

  Her sister did as she was told, holding on to Hattie for support.

  ‘And now, slowly turn around and look in the mirror…’

  For a few horrifying moments, Jules said nothing. Then one hand moved to gently touch the bodice of the dress, as if making sure it was real. Her eyes were full of tears as she turned to Hattie.

  ‘I never thought…’ she began. ‘It’s so, so beautiful, Hattie. I don’t know what to say.’ She stood gazing at her reflection, shimmering in the light.

  Hattie let out her breath. ‘Do you like it?’ she asked softly. ‘Really? You’re not just saying that?’

  ‘I never thought I could look like this,’ whispered her sister. ‘Not in a million years. I love it, I absolutely love it!’

  She gave an excited whoop of delight, suddenly remembering that she could move, and she turned this way and that, admiring the dress from every angle, her face beaming.

  ‘You’re a total genius! After what you said, I thought the beading would make me look frumpy, but it doesn’t. I’ve even got a proper waist!’ She whirled to face Hattie. ‘Thank you so much!’ she gushed. ‘It’s incredible. I don’t know how you did it.’

  Hattie looked at her sister’s face and saw some of her own relief echoed there too. It suddenly struck her how anxious Jules must have been about this whole thing too; it wasn’t just her. Jules was caught up in the madness of organising a wedding, where the pressure to compete was so easy to become entangled in. She looked more relaxed than Hattie had seen her in weeks and she realised, rather belatedly, that Jules had been anxious too. She’d trusted Hattie with a huge responsibility. What if she’d hated her dress? How could she have possibly explained that to her sister? If she had bought one from a shop she wouldn’t have had to worry – but she hadn’t. She’d chosen her. Hattie felt her own tears beginning to well. The thought hadn’t even occurred to her. She was so busy feeling sorry for herself about how things were with her mum, that she never even stopped to consider how Jules must have been feeling. She moved forward to take her sister’s hands.

  ‘You look just how I wanted you to, Jules… truly beautiful. You don’t know how much it means to hear you say you love it.’

  ‘And I do, sis, I really do.’ She raised a hand to her eyes. ‘Oh God, look at me, I’m a wreck.’

  Hattie’s own tears spilled over and she fished in her pocket for a tissue. ‘You and me both,’ she grimaced, handing Jules a tissue too. ‘And for God’s sake, don’t cry all over the dress.’

  ‘I won’t. I even left my mascara off, just in case,’ laughed Jules. ‘You know what I’m like!’

  They both stood side by side for a few minutes, staring at the mirror. Hattie’s aching back and sore fingers were indeed forgotten as they gazed at the beautiful dress. With its wide neckline and tiny capped sleeves, the bodice accentuated curves Jules didn’t really have, while hundreds of tiny seed pearls shimmered in the lamplight, and every now and again a flash from a strategically placed crystal – just enough to create intrigue and admire, but without detracting from the sheer elegance of the gown. Hattie felt a profound peace wash over her as Jules’s fingers reached for hers again.

  ‘I don’t want to ever take this off,’ she said, ‘but I know I’ve got to. Would you help me out, so we can pack it away safely?’

  Hattie smiled. ‘But not for long,’ she replied. ‘Just think of that. Only a month to go. And we’ve still got time to do another fitting if we need to, just to check that all’s still okay.’

  Jules nodded. ‘And I’ve threatened the bridesmaids with all sorts if they put on any weight, or lose any, for that matter.’

  ‘I should still be able to sort it out if they do, don’t worry.’

  Jules gave her reflection one last look before turning back to her. ‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘I mean it, Hattie. What you’ve done for me is amazing, and I don’t think I’ve properly said so before.’ She dabbed at her eyes with the tissue. ‘Come on, let’s see you in your dress before I start crying all over the place again.’

  Hattie
hadn’t expected to be trying on her outfit as well. As far as knew she was bringing all the bridesmaids’ dresses to Jules’s for safekeeping until the wedding day and, barring one last check for any final tweaks, that would be that. She suddenly felt rather shy, stripping off in front of her sister. Her underwear was a rather tired white from repeated washing and definitely more utilitarian than the silky wisps that Jules favoured. Having just seen how beautiful her sister could look, it would surely only serve to accentuate her own shortcomings. But Jules was looking at her expectantly and she didn’t want to spoil the mood by being petulant.

  The bags holding the dresses were all named and it only took a moment to find hers. With Jules’s help she slid it over her head, the deepest midnight-blue silk feeling cool against her skin.

  Together they stared at her reflection in the mirror.

  ‘Oh,’ was all Jules said, but it summed up Hattie’s reaction perfectly.

  ‘I must have put the wrong one on,’ she said. ‘Hang on…’ She checked the other bags laid out on the sofa, but according to the labels she had indeed taken the one bearing her name.

  Jules was frowning. ‘But you can’t have, surely… None of the others are… Well, they’re not as big…’ Her voice trailed away, partly in embarrassment and partly in confusion.

  Hattie stared at her and then looked down at the gown, which hung from her body loosely. By rights it should be closely fitted, the fabric cleverly tucked to accommodate her ample bosom, and falling in a way to disguise her wide hips, but today the dress was hanging limply, shapeless and ill-fitting. She slipped the material down over her hips, twisting the bodice around until she could see the neckline at the back, the place she always put a few stitches as she worked to identify whose dress was whose. There was no doubt about it; this was definitely hers. Besides which, the others were all smaller than hers; there was no way she’d get into any of them.

  ‘You’ve lost weight,’ said Jules, with a grin. ‘Look at you!’