Caroline gasped. “Simon Dean?” she said in amazement. “Oh, Gideon, and he’s supposed to be your friend. What was he thinking?”
Roger snorted. “He never liked Gideon to have a girlfriend. I always wondered if he wanted him for himself.”
Caroline looked shocked. “Roger! Really! Surely not,” she said doubtfully.
Gideon grinned. “You might think so,” he said, “but no, Simon likes girls. He just has this thing about girlfriends and bands not going together.”
His father nodded sagely. “Ah yes, I’ve heard of that syndrome,” he said.
Caroline turned to Abi, a gleam in her eye. “So, what’s she called?” she asked curiously.
Abi smiled shyly. “Natasha,” she said.
Caroline nodded. “That’s nice,” she said. “Is it the name you chose?”
“Yes,” said Abi. “Apparently my mother registered her, and used the names I picked.”
“Names?” queried Caroline.
Gideon laughed. “Go on, tell her the middle name,” he said.
Abi’s hair fell over her face. “Storm,” she muttered quietly.
“Storm?” echoed Caroline. “That’s…unusual. Why Storm, dear?”
Abi blushed even more, so Gideon said, “Storm was really meant to be the baby’s name if it was a boy, called after “Storm Rising,” that track on my first album. But her mother just used both names.”
Roger shrugged. “Well, nice to have an interesting name,” he said, starting to get up. “Anyone want a proper drink? I know I could do with one.” He walked over to the drinks cabinet and looked enquiringly round.
While Roger got them all drinks, Caroline pressed more cake onto Abi. She smiled at her again.
“So we have a new grandchild,” she said with satisfaction, “and in this country.” At Abi’s inquisitive look, she explained, “Gideon’s older sister Penny—I don’t know if you remember her—is married, with three children, but she lives in New Zealand, and we don’t get to see them very often. I do hope this works out for you,” she continued, patting Abi’s hand. “You and Gideon make a lovely couple.”
Abi smiled shyly at her. “I was worried that you might think badly of me,” she said. “I had a baby at sixteen, and my mother turned out to be truly evil. Not really the sort of person you’d want your son associated with, I would think.”
Caroline shook her head. “I judge people on how I find them, not the mistakes they’ve made, and certainly not by their relatives,” she said firmly. “I liked you ten years ago, Abi, and I still like you now. If you make my son happy, then you make me happy.”
Abi blushed again and thanked her before accepting a glass of dry sherry from Roger.
“I’d like to make a toast,” Roger said, raising his glass. “To Abi and Gideon and Natasha, and may they all be reunited soon.” The others solemnly raised their glasses, and Abi and Gideon exchanged glances. He winked at her, and she gave a little smile in return. “And do you have a plan for tomorrow?” added Roger practically. “Are you going to call them first?”
Gideon shook his head. “No, we’ve decided we’re just going to go directly to the children’s home and take the letters we found in the box, along with Natasha’s birth certificate. And some ID of our own, of course, and then see where we get.”
Roger nodded. “Well, if you need any help, I have contacts in most government departments,” he said. “I’m sure someone can be of assistance, maybe speed things up a bit… There’s bound to be a lot of paperwork.”
Gideon smiled. “Thanks, Dad, we’ll bear that in mind.” He squeezed Abi’s hand again.
Caroline stood up. “I think I’d better go and check on dinner,” she said. “I rather forgot about it. You children bring your things in and get settled. We’ll eat in about an hour.” She disappeared off towards the kitchen. Suddenly her head reappeared in the doorway. “I’ve put Abi in the blue guest room,” she said. “Hope that’s okay?”
Abi nodded. “Thank you. I’m sure it’s fine,” she assured her hostess and then followed Gideon back out to the car. They emptied the boot in silence, neither daring to look at the other, until Gideon started to chuckle.
“If only she knew!” he said, grinning down at Abi.
Abi frowned at him. “Of course she knows, Gideon,” she said reprovingly. “But she wouldn’t want to assume. We’ve only just got back together, after all. I shall manage fine in the guest room. I’m sure you know where it is?” she added, giving him a coquettish look.
He raised his eyebrows at her and handed her a couple of bags.
“Here, make yourself useful and take these in. Top of the stairs, turn left, first door. That’s my room. I’ll follow and show you to yours,” and he continued to heft more luggage out of the car.
Abi went back into the house and started up the wide staircase that led out of the hallway. At the top she followed Gideon’s instructions and found herself in a high-ceilinged, almost square room with a large sash window overlooking the forest. There was nothing in it to indicate the room belonged to Gideon, with the possible exception of a large, rather old teddy bear sitting on the bed, but Abi remembered his parents had not actually moved to the house until after he’d gone to America.
She walked over to the window and stared out onto the open expanse of forest, and the grazing ponies in the foreground. The light was beginning to fade, and everything was visible only in shades of grey. She rested her forehead against the cold glass and sighed. Gideon’s parents had been so nice about everything. Maybe they really did like her. She heard Gideon enter the room behind her, and turned to face him. He heaved the bags onto the bed and came to join her, putting his arms around her and holding her close, burying his face in her hair.
“Mmmm, your hair smells nice,” he murmured. Abi snuggled closer into him and smiled to herself. “Tell you what,” Gideon went on, “I could really do with a fag. Fancy a walk? Dad doesn’t smoke any more, so I’m trying not to smoke in the house.”
Abi pulled back and looked up at him. “Okay,” she said with a smile. “We can go and see the horses.”
“Ponies,” corrected Gideon absently, hunting through his pockets for his cigarettes and lighter.
Abi chuckled, and followed him out of the room and back down the stairs.
“I couldn’t really share your room,” she said. “You have a single bed.”
Gideon grinned at her over his shoulder.
“Same bed I had in Newbury,” he said. “It worked okay then, if you remember.”
Abi felt herself starting to blush and let her hair fall over her face again. The memory of the evening of her sixteenth birthday would be with her forever. By her calculations, that was the day they had conceived Natasha, although how it had happened she was still not sure. They had used protection. Gideon had made sure of that. Abi frowned and touched Gideon on the arm. He turned as they reached the bottom of the stairs.
“What?” he asked, picking up his jacket from the coat stand and shrugging it on. Abi retrieved her jacket but continued to look at him.
“Gid, how did we get pregnant?” she asked. “We used protection each time. And there weren’t many times anyway. By my reckoning, we must have conceived her the very first time. But we used a condom.”
Gideon nodded and, taking her hand, led the way out of the house and down the drive.
“Yeah, I was concerned about that,” he said slowly, as they approached the road. “The only thing I can think is that we used an out-of-date condom that first time.”
Abi looked at him in surprise. “Out-of-date?” she echoed. “I didn’t know they could be. Wouldn’t you have to have it for a very long time for that to happen?”
Gideon looked embarrassed. “Yeah, probably,” he admitted and then went silent.
Abi waited for a moment. “Gideon?” she asked, the hint of a laugh in her voice. “How long had you had that condom?” The silence stretched on, and Abi squeezed his hand.
Finally, “Abo
ut four years,” he muttered, almost inaudibly.
“Four years?” Abi stopped walking and gaped at him. “You had a condom for four years and didn’t use it?”
Gideon glanced sideways at her. “I got it when I was fourteen,” he said. “Just in case. Simon bought a packet and gave one to me.”
Abi grinned in the fading light. “Okay,” she said. “I get that. I think a lot of boys do that. But why did you still have it?” He was silent again, and Abi peered at him. “Gideon, was it your first time too?” she asked in surprise.
He looked at her and nodded. “Yes,” he said. “I didn’t tell you ’cause you thought I was experienced, and I kinda liked that you thought that. But yes, you were my first.”
Abi stared at him in the gathering gloom and then suddenly stood on tiptoe and reached up to kiss him. She put her arms around his neck.
“I’m so glad,” she said simply. “But I wish I’d known. All these years I thought you’d done it with Angela McCauley in Sixth Form.” She glanced up at him. “That was the rumour. Maybe she started it.”
Gideon shrugged. “May have done. She wanted to, certainly, but I did have some standards,” he said with a grin. “She did do it with Simon.”
Abi gasped. “Really? Wow, she wanted you but settled for Simon.” She giggled. “So he was having your castoffs even back then? No wonder he resented you.” She looked away from him and watched the silhouette of a pony on the skyline. “But you did have girlfriends when you were on tour, didn’t you?” she asked eventually.
“Yes, I did. A long time after I stopped writing to you, though. I was so angry for a while that I nearly followed Simon’s lead and slept with anyone who asked me, but I resisted, and it was well over a year before I started a relationship.” He stopped to catch her hand and pull her closer to him. “But it never felt right. There were several girls, over the years, but none of them felt right. None of them was you.” He stared off into the darkness. “I don’t think I treated them very well. I was still angry and hurt, and I resented them. I’m not proud of that time of my life.” He put his arm around her and held her tight. “What about you? Was there anyone else?”
Abi sighed. “Unfortunately, yes,” she said sadly. “After the baby was born, I was just too heartbroken to think of anything else, and I still wanted you, but when I went away to college I…well, I suppose I went a bit wild for a while. I was rebelling against everything and everyone, and especially you,” she said with a short laugh. “I thought you’d abandoned me, and I was determined to show the world I didn’t care, that I didn’t need you… It didn’t work. I just ended up hating myself, and missing you even more. So, when I finished college, I moved to Cornwall and have lived a single life ever since.” She grinned in the dark, and he caught a flash of white teeth. “Until now, that is.”
Chapter 25
Monday, 28th November 2005
Monday morning dawned wet and miserable, and as Gideon and Abi joined the heavy traffic on the M25 their moods reflected the weather. They had set off for Kent straight after breakfast and had barely spoken for the whole journey. They were both lost in thought and extremely tense about the day ahead of them. They had attempted to discuss their plan of action for when they arrived at the children’s home, but neither of them seemed capable of formulating anything remotely sensible. In the end they decided to see what happened when they arrived and take it from there.
As they finally turned off the M25 and headed south towards Tunbridge Wells, Abi glanced at Gideon. He was driving in a very determined manner, both hands on the wheel and a cigarette hanging out of his mouth. Abi calculated he’d smoked at least seven during the two-hour journey—more than she’d seen him smoke in a whole day over the last week. She was even considering having one herself. She tentatively laid her hand on his leg, and he flashed her a quick smile.
“Okay?” he asked, returning his attention to the road.
Abi shrugged. “Not really. Hopefully will be later.”
Gideon nodded, opened his window, and threw out his cigarette end.
The Birtwhistle Children’s Home was situated about five miles north of Tunbridge Wells—a large Georgian house set in extensive and secluded grounds. It housed a maximum of eight children, and Gideon had discovered from their website that at present there were only six in residence. The closer Abi and Gideon got, the more nervous and edgy they both became. Abi found herself picking at the stitching on the cuff of her jacket, and by the time they turned off the road and through the gates to the home, she was trailing a very long piece of thread. She snapped it off in annoyance and flipped down the sun visor to look in the mirror. Her very pale face stared back at her, eyes dark rimmed and haunted. The events of the last two weeks had really begun to take their toll on her, and she wished she was feeling better for the possible first meeting with her daughter. Gideon pulled the car up in a small car park a few yards from the main door. He ran a hand through his hair and looked at Abi.
“How do I look?” he asked.
She nodded. “Not bad, a bit harassed, but okay.” She thrust her hand into her bag and pulled out a packet of mints. “Have one of these, though. You stink of smoke.”
He took one and popped it in his mouth.
“C’mon, then. Let’s do this,” he said, taking a deep breath and getting out of the car. Abi followed suit, and hand in hand they walked to the main entrance.
The door was securely locked, so Gideon pressed the button on the intercom, and they waited. Eventually a voice crackled out. “Can I help you?”
“Yes, please. We’d like to see the…the person in charge, please,” Abi said. The intercom crackled again, and then there was a loud buzz and the door clicked open. Gideon pushed it, and they entered a large, relatively bare entrance hall with a black-and-white vinyl tiled floor. As they closed the door behind them, a woman in jeans and a thick woolly jumper emerged from a door to their right.
“Good morning, I’m Cathy Masters. How can I help you?” She advanced towards them with her hand outstretched and a pleasant smile on her face.
Abi and Gideon shook her hand, and Abi gave a small cough before asking, “Erm…well, are you the person in charge?”
The woman shrugged. “One of them,” she said with a chuckle. “I should be able to help you. Would you like to come into my office?” She indicated they should follow her. The room was large, high-ceilinged, and furnished with heavy Victorian office furniture, including the huge leather-topped desk Cathy Masters settled behind while she waved Abi and Gideon onto a green Chesterfield.
Abi glanced at Gideon.
He squeezed her hand and smiled at Cathy, saying, “We believe you have a little girl here…called Natasha Thomson?”
The woman’s eyebrows rose. “Yes, we do. You’re not here about fostering, are you?”
Gideon hesitated a moment, then shook his head. “No, not really.” He paused, unsure how to approach the subject.
Abi interjected. “We believe that she used to get visits from a Joan Thomson?” she said in a rush.
Cathy Masters leant her elbows on the desk and surveyed them closely.
“Yes,” she said cautiously, frowning slightly.
Abi caught her breath. “Does…does Natasha know who she was, what their relationship was?” she asked quietly.
Cathy shook her head. “No. Mrs. Thomson asked that she shouldn’t be told…” She paused and got to her feet. “I’m sorry, but I’m not sure I should be talking about this to you. May I ask what business it is of yours? Did you know Mrs. Thomson?”
There was a long silence, then Abi whispered, “Joan Thomson was my mother.”
Cathy sat down again, her face showing a sudden understanding.
“Then you’re Natasha’s mother?” she said with a sigh. She glanced at Gideon. “And father?” He nodded. “Your mother wrote to me when she was dying,” Cathy went on. “She said you might arrive, and that we were not to allow Natasha to be fostered or adopted until you did. We coul
dn’t agree to that indefinitely, but although it was a very unusual request, the trustees insisted we were to wait for a year before re-assessing the situation.” She looked from one to the other of them. “That was last July.”
Gideon nodded and produced the pile of documents.
“Yes, we have a copy of your letter here. It was given to Abi after her mother died, along with other letters from you to Mrs. Thomson, and a copy of Natasha’s birth certificate.” He held them out to Cathy.
She took them from him and scanned quickly through them. Then she glanced up at Abi and Gideon over the top of her glasses.
“And do you have any identification for yourselves?” she asked. They both produced their passports and handed them over. “These seem to be in order,” she said, handing them back. “Now what exactly is the situation? I understood you had Natasha when you were very young, too young to look after a child, and that you both agreed for her to go into care but not to be adopted.” She frowned at Abi. “To be honest, I don’t think that was necessarily in the best interests of your child.”
Abi’s eyes filled with tears, and she would have jumped to her feet to protest had Gideon not put a restraining hand on her arm.
“No!” She was almost shouting. “It wasn’t like that at all. I thought she was dead!” She paused as she registered the shock in Cathy Masters’ eyes. “I was told she was dead. I never signed anything. Neither of us did. For nearly ten years I’ve thought my daughter was dead.” Tears poured down her cheeks, and Gideon slipped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close.
He looked at Cathy and continued the story. “For some reason of her own, Abigail’s mother decided it would be better for her if she thought her baby was dead. She knew that Abi would never agree to give her up, so she did it the only way she thought possible. What we don’t understand is why she didn’t forge Abi’s signature on the adoption papers, as well, and why she continued to visit Natasha.”
Cathy Masters sat back in her seat and shook her head in amazement.
Storm Rising Page 28
