Storm Rising

by Rachael Richey

  “Abigail Thomson?” she asked with a smile. Abi nodded, and she and her mother entered the doctor’s consulting room. Dr. Slater gestured for them to sit on the comfy sofa that faced her desk, and then she sat down and picked up her pen. “So, what can I do for you, Abigail?” she asked pleasantly.

  Abi cleared her throat. “I’m pregnant,” she said in little more than a whisper.

  The doctor nodded. “A lot of girls who come here are,” she reassured her, with a smile. “How many weeks are you?”

  “About twenty,” Abi said with a quick glance at her mother.

  Joan frowned, and spoke to the doctor. “I didn’t realise she was that far advanced,” she said apologetically. “Can anything still be done?”

  Dr. Slater looked from mother to daughter.

  “I take it you are seeking a termination?” she asked, laying down her pen and focusing on Abi’s face.

  Joan nodded and began to speak, but Abi got to her feet and faced her mother.

  “No, I’m not! I want to have this baby, and you can’t make me get rid of it. I’m sixteen. I’m not a child.” Her voice was shrill until it broke, and tears began to run down her cheeks.

  Dr. Slater stood up and raised a calming hand. “It’s all right, Abigail. No one can force you to do anything you don’t want to do. Now, would you just let me examine you? Just to check your dates are correct.”

  She led Abi over to the examination table and helped her up onto it. She warmed her hands for a moment before she gently lifted Abi’s top and pressed lightly on her belly. Then she applied her stethoscope and asked Abi a few questions regarding her last period. After a few minutes she indicated that she could go back to her seat.

  “Well, I think we’re correct about the dates; twenty weeks seems to be about right,” she said, sitting back down behind her desk. She leant forward and spoke to Abi’s mother. “Under the circumstances, I wouldn’t advise a termination. At this stage it’s a very traumatic event, and I don’t think it would do Abigail any good at all.” She paused and looked from one to the other of them. “Is there no way you could keep the baby?”

  Abi sucked in her breath. “Yes. I want to keep the baby,” she repeated emphatically. “She’s mine, and I’m going to keep her.”

  Joan gave her a look of dislike. “And how do you propose to look after a baby?” she asked, her voice shaking. “You’re a child. You know nothing of what having a small baby means. The crying, the endless, endless crying…the sleepless nights, the constant feeling of tiredness… You wouldn’t be able to cope on your own, and you can forget any idea of me looking after it.”

  Dr. Slater looked slightly taken aback, but waited while Abi composed herself.

  “I wouldn’t let you look after her,” Abi spat out eventually. “I shall leave school and take her to be with her father.”

  Joan gave a bark of mirthless laughter and gestured to the doctor.

  “See what I’m up against, Dr. Slater? The girl lives in cloud cuckoo land. The father is in America and wants nothing to do with her.” She turned to Abi. “We’ll abandon the idea of an abortion,” she conceded, “but when the child is born we’ll have it adopted immediately. I’m sure Dr. Slater could advise on that. I should also like to book Abigail in here for the birth.”

  Dr. Slater looked from mother to daughter again, and a slight frown creased her forehead.

  “I will happily book her in for the delivery,” she said. “But I must point out that we don’t countenance forcing anyone to give up her baby unless it’s threatening to the well-being of either baby or mother, so it must be Abigail’s decision.”

  Joan inclined her head slightly, then shook hands with the doctor before they made their way back outside.

  As they stood in the shade of a large chestnut tree waiting for a return taxi, Joan spoke quietly to Abi. “You will give that baby up. Make no mistake—there’s no way on earth I’m letting you keep it.” Her voice was icy.

  Abi glanced at her. “Over my dead body,” she said calmly.

  Chapter 16

  Tuesday, 22nd November 2005

  Simon awoke on Tuesday morning having finally shaken off his jet lag and his hangover. He rolled out of bed, marvelling that his bedroom still looked the same as it had ten years before when he’d left home, and dived into the bathroom for a quick shower. His headache might have gone, but his mood was little better than it had been when he’d arrived at Heathrow two days earlier. His mother had been very patient with him, allowing him to rant on about Gideon’s behaviour and the horrors of the paparazzi, and leaving him to his own devices as much as possible, which mainly meant letting him sleep all day, but Simon was beginning to realise that he wasn’t being a very good son.

  He dressed rapidly in jeans and a faded NightHawk T-shirt, then ran down the stairs and into the kitchen. His mother was sitting at the table eating toast and reading the paper, and she glanced up as her son came in. From the resigned look in her eye, Simon realised he had probably tried her patience rather too far, so he summoned up a cheerful smile and dropped a kiss on her curly head.

  “Feeling better today, love?” she asked with a smile, the relief sounding in her voice. Simon nodded, poured himself a cup of tea, and sat down opposite her at the table.

  “Yes, thanks. Sorry I’ve been such a bear. Bit of a culture shock being home, actually.”

  Josephine Dean surveyed her son speculatively. “I don’t think you really want to be here, do you?” she said with a slightly quizzical smile. “I assume you came over to England to look for Gideon.”

  Simon’s face darkened, and he ran a hand through his hair. “Partly,” he said at last. “I also want to find Abi.”

  His mother looked at him in surprise. “Well, that’s a name I haven’t heard for many years. She left home the minute she finished school and hasn’t been back since, as far as I know.” She paused in thought. “Well, her mother died a couple of weeks ago. She may have been here for the funeral—I don’t know. I couldn’t stand the woman. Didn’t go near the place.”

  Simon took a long slurp of tea, then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

  “Where does she live now, then?” he asked casually.

  Josephine shook her head. “No idea, love. As I said, I haven’t even heard her name for years. You could try asking Mary Cromwell. I’m sure Abi kept in touch with her girl. You remember Judy?”

  Simon nodded morosely. “Yeah. Pair of bloody interlopers,” he muttered, mostly to himself.

  Josephine frowned. “They were both nice girls,” she said reprovingly. “It was a shame Abi and Gideon lost touch. They made a lovely couple.”

  Simon stared at his mother in horror. How could she talk like that? Abi could have completely ruined everything for the band if he hadn’t stepped in. But he hadn’t known everything. And now he had to stop Gideon finding out what had happened after he left. If Gideon ever knew that Simon had kept Abi’s letters from him, that would be the end of their friendship, and he didn’t think he could bear that. He had only been acting for the good of the band—he had to keep reminding himself of that.

  “Where do you think Gideon has gone?” asked his mother suddenly.

  Simon shrugged. “Dunno. Wish I did,” he murmured.

  Josephine frowned. “Maybe he’s gone to his parents’ house,” she said brightly. “They moved to the New Forest somewhere, I believe. We lost touch after that. Lovely couple.”

  Was there a couple she didn’t think were “lovely”? Simon wondered. He sighed and pushed his empty cup away.

  “Best way to find him is probably to watch the news,” he said bleakly. “The press are bound to find him eventually. I’m expecting them here any day now.” He peered out of the kitchen window as if expecting to see a cameraman concealed in the shrubbery.

  Josephine shook her head. “Well, I hope they don’t come here,” she said shortly. “I can do without that again. We were mobbed when you started to get famous. No idea what they hoped to
get from taking pictures of your father and me doing the garden.” She pushed back her chair and carried the cups to the dishwasher. “I suggest you go and see Mary Cromwell if you want to find Abi.”

  Simon sat for a moment, contemplating his movements, before he got to his feet and left the room without a word. Five minutes later Josephine heard the front door slam as he left the house. She shook her head sadly. Stardom didn’t really suit her son, she thought to herself.

  ****

  The phone rang just as Judy had got Sabrina off to sleep for her morning nap. She swore under her breath and snatched it up as fast as she could.

  “Hello,” she said quietly. “Oh, hi, Mum. You okay?” She carried the phone into the living room and curled up on the sofa. “What…really? You are getting a lot of visitors this week, aren’t you?” She laughed out loud. “What’d you tell him?...Oh, good. I was going to say, please don’t give him her address. I’ve sent Gideon off down there, and I don’t think they should be in the same place at the moment.” She listened again, chewing on a chipped nail. “Okay, glad you did that. I really don’t want him coming here. We never got on, and I don’t trust him.” She paused. “Oh, I don’t know for sure, but I’ve been thinking, and I reckon it may have been Simon who stopped Abi’s letters getting to Gideon…yes, I think so, too. By the way any more news on…” She listened intently. “Right, well, I think I will have to go and see Abi at the weekend whatever. I had an e-mail on Sunday saying happy birthday, and I could tell from it that she really needs someone to talk to. Of course, now I’ve sent Gideon down to see her without telling her, she may not want to see me,” she added with a laugh. She stretched her legs out in front of her in an attempt to warm her feet by the fire. “I know, maybe I should have told her, but I didn’t want to scare her off. I think they just need to be thrust together. Hope so, anyway.” She grimaced. “So let me know if there’s any more news…Bye for now.” She switched the phone off thoughtfully.

  If Simon did turn up at Abi’s house, she could foresee disaster. If she was correct about him having kept Abi’s letters from Gideon, then at the moment he was probably intent on keeping the two of them apart so there was no danger of him being found out. She got to her feet and walked over to the computer to check her e-mail. She’d better reply to Abi’s message and reassure her that she would be down on Friday.

  ****

  Gideon had borrowed his mother’s car again, this time for an unspecified time, and he was speeding along the westbound carriageway of the A30 between Exeter and Launceston. He was extremely nervous about turning up uninvited at Abi’s house, but he had to admit that if she knew he was coming she might have fled by the time he got there. He had no idea what she felt about him now. So much time had gone by since they’d last seen each other, they would be bound to have changed immeasurably. And she had spent the last ten years thinking he’d abandoned her, while he had thought the same about her. He gave a rather sardonic smile. They would either have lots to talk about—or nothing at all. He was fascinated to find out which.

  As he drove, his mind went racing back through the years to his relationship with Abi. They had been so young but had both been so sure they were meant to be together. He had planned to marry her as soon as his tour was over—the tour that ended up lasting for two years. But in that time he never heard from her, and now he’d discovered she had never received his letters either. He began to feel a great overwhelming anger at the circumstances that had torn them apart. Something, or someone, had been against them. He realised he wasn’t particularly surprised at Joan Thomson’s betrayal, but recalling Judy’s words to him, he couldn’t for the life of him find any reason why he’d not received Abi’s letters to him. The thought that someone in his life had betrayed him in the same way left him feeling cold and deeply angry. He put his foot to the floor and increased his speed, hoping he could in some way outrun his feelings.

  At around two thirty, Gideon arrived in the little village of Sennen and dug Judy’s scrap of paper out of his jacket pocket. He located the little cottage fairly easily, and could see immediately there was no car parked outside. He knew from Judy that Abi had a variety of jobs she did on different days of the week, so he assumed she must be at one of them at the moment. He decided to park up where he could see the cottage, and wait for her to return home.

  He found a large lay-by on the main road into the village. It commanded a perfect view of the row of cottages, and he settled down for an extended stay. His mind was racing with thoughts and memories, and still struggling with the idea that someone had betrayed him. He needed something to help him relax. Since a beer was clearly out of the question, he delved into his pocket and brought out his tobacco pouch and cigarette papers. He proceeded to roll himself a joint, thinking it perhaps unwise since he was parked on a main road. Then he sat back and enjoyed its relaxing qualities while he waited. Luckily for Gideon, no one passed for at least an hour, by which time the joint was long finished, and he was beginning to doze off.

  Finally the sound of a car approaching caused him to sit up and take notice. It came up behind him fairly fast, then slowed suddenly and turned down the track towards the cottages. Gideon had only managed to catch a slight glimpse of the driver, as the car passed, just enough to see it was a female with long hair. He sat up and peered down at the cottages. The little car pulled up outside the one Gideon had identified as Abi’s, and shuddered to a halt. After a moment or two the car door opened and a girl got out, a girl wearing a sheepskin jacket and jeans, and with a long scarf wound round her neck. She didn’t bother to lock the car but walked straight up to the front door and let herself in. As she turned to close the door behind her, Gideon fancied she paused for a moment and stared straight up at his car. Then she went inside and closed the door.

  ****

  Abi saw the car as she came along the main road. There were never many tourists around in November, and to see a strange car parked in the lay-by was worthy of a second glance. Probably someone who got lost, she thought to herself as she turned down her track.

  She had spent the day with one of her clients in Penzance, sorting out the artwork for their new marketing campaign, and she was very glad to be home. She had lit the fire before she left the house that morning, and the chimney was smoking cheerily as she got out of the car and headed for the front door. As she turned to close it behind her, she once again noticed the strange Range Rover parked on the main road. She paused for a second, then shivered and closed the door. For some reason the sight of it had given her a little chill in her heart. She shook her head in exasperation. What was she turning into? The events of the past week must really be taking their toll.

  She tossed her jacket down on the sofa and went into the kitchen to put the kettle on. As anticipated, the little cottage was very warm and cosy, and Abi anticipated a lovely warm relaxing evening. Although she was very fond of her friend and neighbour, she couldn’t help hoping that Chris wouldn’t pop over. She really fancied a night to herself.

  She made a cup of tea, cut herself a slice of cake, carried them both over to the fire, and sat down on the hearth rug. A basket of logs stood to one side of the woodburner, and Abi opened the doors and tossed another log onto the already roaring fire. She gave a little shiver of pleasure. She really liked to be warm. She was going to enjoy the evening.

  She leant back against the sofa, extended her legs in front of her, and took a large bite of cake. No sooner had she done that than the doorbell rang. Abi rolled her eyes and tried to swallow her cake.

  “Come in, Chris, the door’s open!” she called, spraying crumbs in all directions.

  After a moment the door slowly opened and a deep voice said, “I’m not Chris. Can I still come in?”

  Abi leapt to her feet and swung round to face the door. For the last ten years she had dreamt of the moment when Gideon Hawk would appear on her doorstep, and now it had finally happened she had no idea what to do. For a few long seconds they stared at each other, n
either daring to speak. Then Abi took a tentative step forward and nodded her head jerkily.

  “Yes. Come in,” she croaked, her mouth suddenly dry, adding automatically, “Mind your head.”

  Gideon ducked into the room and squeezed past the two dogs who came bounding up to greet him. Abi remained rooted to the spot, totally unable to think what to say. Eventually she waved her hand vaguely towards the sofa and waited for Gideon to sit down. He lowered himself onto the soft cushions, looking ridiculously big in her tiny living room. She had almost forgotten just how tall he was. At five foot seven, she was fairly tall, but Gideon had always towered above her. Cautiously she sat down at the other end of the sofa, and turned to face him.

  He glanced at her. “Sorry. Hope you don’t mind me just turning up,” he said inadequately. Abi shook her head and tried to speak, but this time no words came. Gideon cleared his throat. “If you’re expecting someone, I can go,” he said politely.

  Abi shook her head. “No, not at all,” she managed.

  Gideon watched her closely. “What about Chris? Is he your boyfriend?”

  It was that question that broke the tension for Abi. She smiled, then started to laugh, and found she couldn’t stop until the tears were pouring down her cheeks. Gideon thought Chris was her boyfriend. Wait until she told him. He’d love that. She wiped her eyes and blew her nose, then grinned shyly at Gideon.

  “No. He’s not my boyfriend, and I’m not even expecting him,” she said at last. “He’s my neighbour, and he often just drops in.” She gave another little giggle but didn’t bother to explain it, adding politely, “Would you like some tea?”

  Gideon paused for a moment, then nodded his thanks. He would much have preferred a beer, but he didn’t like to ask.

  He watched as she went into the kitchen, and suddenly felt completely out of his depth. He was in the house of the girl he had loved for the last eleven years, and she was a stranger. He stared around the room trying to find signs of the Abi he had fallen in love with—the rebellious teenager he had planned to marry—and could find none.