“I’m finding this all rather hard to take in,” she admitted. “For nearly ten years we’ve been caring for Natasha in good faith, and all the time she was being kept from a mother who wanted her.”
Abi nodded vigorously at this, wiping her eyes with a tissue.
Cathy continued, “In her last letter, your mother said that if you did come to find Natasha, we were to allow you access to her and allow you to take her away if it was what Natasha herself wanted. I realise that in all probability we haven’t now, and never did have, any legal control over her at all, but since Natasha has lived here almost all her life, I would ask that you respect her wishes.”
Gideon nodded. “Of course,” he said at once, glancing at Abi, who sniffed loudly but reluctantly nodded her head.
Cathy Masters got to her feet. “Obviously Natasha is at school just now, but would you like to see around the home? See where your daughter has been living?”
Abi got to her feet with alacrity. “Yes, please,” she said, blowing her nose again. “That would be lovely.”
They followed Cathy out of the office and through another door marked Private. This led into a large living room with huge floor-to-ceiling windows that looked out over the well landscaped grounds. Gideon looked around appreciatively.
“This looks very nice,” he commented. “I’m sure the children are very happy here.”
Cathy flashed him a smile. “We do our best,” she said. “Of course, nothing compares with a proper home environment, but for some of our children that’s just not possible, and they’re much better off here.”
She led the way through the large room and into a series of smaller rooms, each dedicated to some activity or other. A small smile began on Abi’s face as she saw the art facilities, and Gideon nudged her when they passed through the music room.
“Where does she go to school?” Abi asked.
“There’s a nice primary school in the village, about a mile away,” Cathy replied. “Then the older ones go into Tunbridge on the bus for the senior school. Natasha’s in Year 5. She’s a bright child,” she added, smiling at them both. She led them along a corridor and then up a long flight of stairs. “All the bedrooms are on this floor,” she explained. “Luckily, we’re small enough to be able to give each child his or her own room. Would Natasha be able to have her own room if she decided to live with you?”
Abi’s mind flew to her tiny cottage and she had a moment of panic. There was barely room for her, let alone Gideon and Natasha. She turned wide eyes to Gideon. He nodded to Cathy.
“Oh, yes,” he said smoothly. “That’s no problem. We have a very small cottage at present but are in the process of buying a much larger family home,” and he smiled engagingly at her. As they followed Cathy along the corridor, Abi stared at Gideon and raised her eyebrows. He grinned at her and squeezed her hand.
Cathy had stopped outside a red door with the name Natasha painted on it in yellow and blue, surrounded by stars and moons. She laughed and explained, “We let the children decorate their own rooms as far as is practical. Natasha’s very artistic.”
Abi glanced at Gideon and grinned. As they followed Cathy into the bedroom, he asked, “And is she musical at all? Does she play an instrument?”
Cathy raised one shoulder in a shrug. “Well, she plays the recorder,” she said doubtfully, “but other than that she’s not shown much interest in learning anything else.” She turned to look at Gideon more closely. “I thought you looked familiar,” she said suddenly, with a smile. “You were all over the papers last week. I remember now. One of our older girls is rather fond of your band—NightHawk, isn’t it?”
Gideon smiled and nodded. “Yes. Sorry, maybe we should have said. We’ve spent the last week trying to avoid the press.”
Cathy nodded. “I saw on the news. You seemed to be besieged at some cottage somewhere,” she said with a grin.
“That was my cottage,” said Abi. “It’s a very long story, but we’ve been parted since before Natasha was born, and have only found each other again very recently. It’s all been very traumatic.” She found to her horror that she was about to cry again. She fumbled in her pocket for another tissue and blew her nose hurriedly. Cathy touched her arm sympathetically.
“Don’t worry,” she said kindly. “I can imagine this is a difficult time. It’s not every day you discover you have a child! Now, this is her room. Feel free to look around, but please don’t touch anything. She’s very protective about all her things and will know if they’ve been touched.”
Abi walked into the middle of the room and stared around her, trying to get some idea of the character of the little girl who inhabited it. The little girl she had given birth to. The little girl who had been kept from her for so long. She caught her breath and struggled to fight down the feeling of panic threatening to engulf her. This was her daughter’s room. Yet it was the room of a stranger. She spun round and clutched tightly onto Gideon’s arm.
“I can’t do this, Gid,” she murmured, her voice shaking. “I can’t do this. I don’t know my own daughter.”
Gideon put his arm round her and held her close.
“Yes, you can, Abs. Yes, you can. Look around you.” He gently turned her round to face back into the room again. “You don’t know her yet. But now you have the chance to get to know her. Can you imagine what fun that’ll be? She’s part you and part me. What a combination! Let’s start by seeing what we can find out about her from her room.”
Abi cautiously let her eyes roam around the room. It was medium sized, furnished with a wood-framed single bed, a single wardrobe, and a chest of drawers, both painted in rainbow colours, a white bookcase crammed with books of all shapes and sizes, and a large basket in the corner spilling out with stuffed toys. The walls were covered with posters, mostly of animals—dogs, cats, horses, and—rather strangely—rats.
Abi slowly let go of Gideon to walk over to the bed and gaze down on it, trying to imagine her daughter asleep in it. The quilt was patterned with a geometric design in red, yellow, and green, and sitting on the pillow was a small grey stuffed rabbit with one very bedraggled ear. Abi caught her breath and stretched out her hand to pick it up.
“No touching, remember.” Gideon’s quiet voice behind her made her jump, and she withdrew her hand. She turned and looked up at him.
“The rabbit…” she managed. “I bought that rabbit to give her when she was born. It disappeared in the clinic. I always wondered what happened to it.”
Cathy Masters overheard the exchange and stepped forward.
“That was the only toy that arrived with Natasha when she came to us,” she said gently. “It was in her carrycot, and she’s remained very attached to it. As you can see, she used to suck its ear when she went to sleep.”
Abi stared at the little rabbit, and her mind whirled as she tried to visualise her mother placing it in the carrycot with Natasha. Her eyes filled with tears again, and angrily she turned away and walked over to the window. Behind her she could hear Gideon questioning Cathy on one or two trivial matters, and she mentally blocked her ears and stared out into the garden. A watery sun was attempting to break through the clouds, and a trickle of water was running off the roof and dripping down onto the windowsill outside the bedroom window. Abi wrapped her arms around her body and sniffed. She had never been reduced to tears so much in her life—except of course back when Natasha had been born—and she was finding it very disconcerting. She heard someone say her name and turned round.
“Abi? Shall we go for a bit and come back when she gets back from school?” Gideon was asking her. She nodded and went slowly to join him.
“What time is that?” she asked Cathy, trying to make her voice as normal as possible.
“She gets home about four, and then the younger ones have tea at five. It would probably be best if you came after that. Her bedtime’s not until seven thirty. Maybe come around five forty-five?” Cathy suggested. “I would recommend you don’t tell her who you a
re at first. Just spend this visit getting to know her a bit. Try to gain her confidence.”
Gideon frowned. “You think that’ll be hard?” he asked, glancing at Abi as he spoke.
Cathy hesitated for a moment. “She’s…she’s very strong willed,” she said at last. “Knows her own mind. She won’t be fooled by any nonsense. And she’ll let you know if she likes you or not. Don’t get put off,” she added kindly, seeing their faces. “I’m sure it’ll go all right. Now how about you go and get some lunch, and we’ll see you back here later?” She ushered them out of the bedroom and back downstairs to the entrance hall. “I’ll have her ready to meet you by a quarter to six,” she promised as she showed them out, and with a cheerful wave watched them walk across the gravel path towards the car park.
They sat in the car in silence for a few minutes, neither of them knowing quite where to start. Eventually Gideon glanced at Abi and reached out to squeeze her hand. She looked up at him solemnly.
“Gideon, she’s real,” was all she said. He leaned over and took her in his arms, burying his face in her hair and deeply breathing in her scent. She returned his embrace, clinging tightly to him, her eyes screwed shut.
“I know,” he murmured softly. “She really is.” He gently released her and tilted her face up to his. “And in a few hours she’ll be even realer!” he said with a crooked smile.
Abi sniffed and scrubbed at her eyes with a tissue.
“This is so weird,” she said with a shake of her head. “Let’s go and be normal for a bit.” She fastened her seatbelt and looked expectantly at Gideon. He grinned at her, then started the engine and drove slowly down the drive back onto the road.
“Where to, madam?” he asked, glancing over at her.
Abi considered. “A nice country pub for lunch,” she decided. “But nowhere you’ll be recognised.”
Gideon raised an eyebrow at her. “Can’t guarantee that,” he said. “It happens all the time. We’ll give it a go, somewhere out in the country in November should be okay.”
He turned out onto the main road, and they drove around for about half an hour before discovering, on the edge of a nearby village, a secluded pub advertising a special deal on lunches.
“This looks okay,” said Abi, peering out of the window. “They’ve got a fire—I can see the chimney smoking.”
Gideon parked in the empty car park, and the two of them made their way into the dimly lit pub. They ordered their food and drinks, then retired to a cosy corner just to the left of the roaring fire. Abi leaned forward and warmed her hands. Gideon grinned at her.
“Your hands are always cold,” he said. “I remember warming them up on our very first date.”
“Cold hands, warm heart,” she replied serenely.
Gideon leaned back in his seat and sighed. “What a morning,” he said. “And what an afternoon to come.” He looked around appreciatively. “This is really quite nice, isn’t it. D’you think they do bed and breakfast?”
Abi glanced over at him. “You think we should stay here?”
Gideon nodded. “We don’t want to drive back tonight, do we? I’m sure we’ll want to see Natasha again tomorrow. This is nice and warm, and nearly empty. Hopefully no one’ll recognise me.” He got to his feet and wandered over to the bar. A short conversation later, he returned to their table with a grin on his face.
“Turns out they have recognised me,” he said, slightly smug, “but have agreed not to spread it about. I’ve booked their best room for the next two nights.”
Abi frowned. “How much is it? These places can be very expensive, you know.”
Gideon stared at her. “Abi,” he said with a smile, “I’m loaded. Please stop worrying about money.” Abi felt herself flush, and she let her hair fall over her face. Gideon laughed and sat down next to her. “Love you, Abs,” he said affectionately. “Now let’s have a nice relaxing lunch and then find some way to spend the afternoon until half five. Think we can?” he asked with a twinkle in his eye.
Chapter 26
2005
Half past five found Abi and Gideon speeding back along the road towards the Birtwhistle Children’s Home, both lost in thought about the ordeal to come. They turned in through the gates at exactly five forty, and Gideon parked in the same place as last time, taking great care to make sure the car was straight. Abi sat patiently while he manoeuvred backwards and forwards, and eventually she put her hand on his arm.
“It’s fine, Gid, let’s get out now,” she said gently, with a smile.
He grinned. “Sorry, just putting it off…” They got out of the car together, and Abi held his hand as they made their way up to the front door again. Cathy let them in at the first buzz on the intercom and welcomed them with a conspiratorial smile.
“Hello again,” she said. “Natasha’s in the games room. You come with me to the small living room, and I’ll go and fetch her.”
She opened another door marked Private and ushered them in. The small living room was actually fairly large, and furnished in a friendly and comfortable way, obviously designed to put people at their ease. Gideon walked to the fireplace and squatted down to warm his hands, while Abi perched on the edge of a large blue armchair. The silence in the room was broken only by the crackling of the fire, and when the door suddenly opened, they both jumped. Cathy appeared, ushering a small girl in front of her.
“Here she is,” she said brightly. “This is Natasha. Tasha, these are the people who wanted to meet you, Abigail and Gideon. I’ll leave you to get acquainted, if that’s okay with you?” Natasha nodded solemnly. “And I’ll just be in the next room, if you need me. I’ll leave the door open.”
She gently pushed the child further into the room, then slipped through a door opposite the fireplace, leaving it ajar. Gideon and Abi stood up and smiled at the child. She stared at them, then went to the fireplace and sat down on the hearth rug. She stared into the flames for a moment.
“We’re not allowed fires in our rooms,” she said without turning round.
Abi couldn’t take her eyes off her. This was the child she’d been mourning for nearly ten years. This skinny little girl with curly shoulder-length dark brown hair and her father’s piercing blue eyes. This beautiful child, dressed in jeans and a jumper, who had turned around and was now staring at them with a very guarded expression in her eyes. Abi sat down again.
“Hello, Natasha,” she said with a smile. “I’m Abi, and this is Gideon.”
Natasha stared at her. “I know. Aunty Cathy said.” She said it with a scornful look. “Why’re you here? You don’t want to foster me, do you?”
Gideon sat down on the floor opposite Natasha and shook his head. “No, we don’t want to foster you.”
Natasha nodded. “Good. You wouldn’t like it,” she said flatly. “I’m difficult.”
Abi exchanged a brief look with Gideon, then joined the other two on the floor. She sat cross-legged and grinned at Natasha. “Why are you difficult?”
Natasha looked at her doubtfully. “Dunno. Just am,” she said shortly, picking up the poker and jabbing at a log with it.
Gently Gideon relieved her of the poker. “Don’t think we want to set the house on fire, do we?” he said with a chuckle. “Have you been fostered before, then? Didn’t you like it?”
Natasha considered. “I’ve been fostered twice,” she said slowly. “They were stupid people. They didn’t get me. They said I was difficult.” She scowled. “I could show them what difficult is, if I really wanted to.”
Abi bit her lip, and let her hair fall over her face. She didn’t doubt that this child could be difficult if she wanted to be, and realised this was not going to be an easy ride. She flicked her hair back and looked up to see Gideon smiling at her.
He turned to Natasha again. “D’you like it here?” he asked.
The child shrugged. “S’okay,” she said dismissively. “It’s my home.” Suddenly she got to her feet and began to wander around the room, inspecting the decorati
ons. She stopped in front of a painting of a horse and studied it, her head on one side. “That’s all out of proportion,” she said, shaking her curly head. “I could do it better.” Then she continued around the room, touching each object that she looked at. Eventually she bounced onto the sofa and stared at them. “You’re still here,” she said.
Gideon looked at her with a frown.
“Of course we’re still here,” he said. “We’ve come to see you. We’d like to get to know you.”
Natasha continued to bounce on the sofa. “Why?” she asked, breathlessly.
Abi glanced at Gideon helplessly, then she looked at Natasha.
“You like painting?” she asked, indicating the horse picture the child had objected to.
Natasha shook her head and stopped bouncing. “I like drawing,” she corrected. “I’m very good.”
Abi smiled. “What do you like to draw?”
“Animals, of course,” said Natasha, doing a roly-poly on the sofa.
Gideon took a deep breath. “Abi can draw,” he said to her. “She’s an artist.”
Natasha sat up and looked suspiciously at Abi.
“Are you any good?” she asked, raising her eyebrows.
Abi fixed her stare. “Of course I am,” she said with confidence. “I like drawing people best. And I paint landscapes, too. Can we see some of your drawings?”
Natasha narrowed her eyes. “Maybe,” she said cautiously. “They’re in my room.”
They were all silent for a moment, and then Gideon asked, “D’you like music?”
Natasha considered the question.
“Some,” she said at last. “If I can dance to it. Some of the modern stuff is rubbish, though. That’s what Nan used to say.”
Abi glanced at Gideon. “Who’s Nan?” she asked quietly.
Natasha bent forward and her curls swung over her face.
“No one,” she said flatly.
“Is she one of the other girls here?” persisted Abi gently.
Natasha shook her head. “No, she’s no one.” She looked up at Abi. “She’s dead.”
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