The Dark Corners Box Set

by Robert Scott-Norton

  “This is your life we’re talking about. I’ll do what I can to help.”

  She wanted to ask him about the locked office, but that would only let him know that she’d tried to look around his personal space without his permission. There was no way she’d come away from that looking good.

  “Great. Thank you.”

  She put her hand out to his and their fingers met, his curling around her hand. She liked that feeling and hated herself for thinking badly of him. He wasn’t a bad man. He’d done all he could to provide for them. Hell, not even just provide. He’d given them all a great life through working hard at his business. She was too young to remember him in the early days when he was struggling to pay the bills and the repayment of the business loan he’d taken out to get the letting agency started. But even then, they’d spent as much time as possible away enjoying the caravan, making sure they all had good quality family time together.

  Adrian gestured at the cheesecake. “Are you going to eat that or not? It’s killing me to wait.”

  “You could have got your own piece.”

  “Your mum is watching my figure for me. I wouldn’t get through the front door before confessing.”

  Lisa smiled and picked up her fork. The cheesecake looked delicious. A vanilla filling with a layer of sliced raspberries tumbling over the edge. This wouldn’t last more than a minute. Her stomach grumbled in anticipation as she sliced the edge of her fork through the cushiony cakey goodness.

  “Are you not going to ask me what I’ve got here?” Adrian lifted his hand up from the envelope he’d had with him since the office and had been placed beside his coffee on the table with no explanation.

  The cheesecake never made it to her lips. Instead, she lowered her fork and stared at the envelope, her heart beating a little faster as she contemplated its contents.

  “What’s in the envelope?” she asked.

  “It’s all I have on the adoption. It’s the paperwork you’ve been asking for.”

  Lisa struggled to keep from bursting into tears. With her right hand, she brushed aside the plate with the cheesecake and stared into her father’s eyes.

  “I can see it?”

  “You can have it. It’s nothing I need to keep physical copies of now. I’ve copies of all of it on my computer.”

  “And this is what you got when you adopted me?”

  “That’s what I said. It’s the paperwork from your adoption. All of it, in there to help you out.”

  She didn’t know what to say. The tears still wanted to come, but she held them back with a Herculean effort. The tears would slow her down when she had a million questions to ask.

  Adrian pushed the envelope across the table with the tip of his finger. She noticed the bit nail and the scratched skin around the edges of his finger. A nervous habit that he’d had since a child. It had always freaked her out a little when she was growing up as there were rarely any days when there wasn’t a speck of blood on his finger, or a lifted fleck of white skin, ready for him to scratch off with the nail of his other hand.

  Then he tapped the envelope with the same finger. “It’s all in there, what we have. All of it. But—”

  But? What do you mean there’s a but? There can’t be a but. That’s not fair.

  Adrian continued. “We used a private adoption agency. They were starting to become a thing in certain parts of the country in an effort to support social services’s rather inadequate offering. Social services weren’t interested in placing anybody with us as your mother had foolishly admitted in our initial interview that we were still trying for a child of our own. She thought it would show how dedicated we were to wanting kids, that despite all the miscarriages, we were determined and would do whatever it took.

  “Whatever it took is not what the social services wanted to hear. It took a while for us both to realise that we wouldn’t get very much farther with the social services adoption process, but I wasn’t about to let your mother down. It wasn’t her fault they are a bunch of wankers.”

  Lisa winced. It was rare to hear her dad swear.

  “What did you do?” Because there was something coming that she didn’t want to hear. But she had to hear it because if she didn’t, she might just explode.

  The lights flickered in the cafe. They were using those trendy antique light bulbs, hanging them low over each table with a copper shade around each one. It was barely enough light as it was but when the lights flickered, she squinted towards the back of the shop where the owners were looking at each other in surprise. Then just as she was turning her head back to her dad, she saw the figure in the shadows through the open doorway leading to the back kitchen. She froze at the sight and a chill ran across her back.

  “Lisa?”

  Her dad’s voice pulled her back and she frowned, wondering whether she would need to call work and tell them she would take the afternoon off sick. There was a delicate tension in the front of her head, right between the eyes, that threatened to become something far worse if she didn’t get herself into a darkened room and lie down.

  “Lisa?” Her dad again, this time the insistent voice was accompanied by a touch of his hand on her forearm. “What’s the matter?”

  “Nothing,” she said, “I’m fine.”

  “You look pale.”

  “I might be coming down with something.”

  “Let me get you home.”

  “No. Please, tell me what you were going to tell me.”

  He hesitated, and she thought he would ignore her request and manhandle her out of the cafe and back home like she was a little girl being disobedient in a public place. But you still have this thing you want to tell me. No, not want, you NEED to tell me.

  “Let me know if I can get you anything.”

  “I will. Now, back to the adoption. What did you do when you realised social services weren’t going to proceed with you?”

  “I lied to your mum. You mustn’t tell her. She has always believed I pulled some strings with a friend I knew at university and got us back moving down the approved channel with social services, but I didn’t. I found us a private adoption company instead. Don’t tell her. It’s not worth upsetting her.”

  “But why does it matter?”

  “Because she’s always found reasons to blame herself for not being able to have children. I don’t want her to think I went to extra expense to get us children. I don’t want her to think that I bought you.”

  I know he didn’t literally mean that he bought us, but is that what this amounts to? Isn’t that effectively what the super-rich celebrities do? Make generous donations to poor adoption companies to get their names to the top of the list?

  Maybe it wasn’t like that at all. Maybe it was just a simple case of using a new private adoption company. But still, Lisa felt uneasy. Was this what he meant when he said there wouldn’t be the happy ending to this story?

  “We never met your parents. But we know that they were struggling for a long time with employment and that money was always tight. Their family was not the kind they could have gone to for support either. Adoption to them, was a way of getting you and Phillip into a new life that they couldn’t afford to show you, and, maybe it would get them out of the financial abyss they’d stumbled into.”

  “Where were they from? Were they local?”

  “No. They came over from Ireland. They were living in South Manchester. He was a factory worker, laid off three weeks after they found out she was pregnant.”

  “And my mother? What did she do?”

  “Occasional bar work. Lots of short-term part-time jobs. They were living hand-to-mouth. They had big loans to pay off and a landlord who had tied them into an unfair long-term contract. They were trapped.”

  “Are they still there? In South Manchester? Are all the contact details for the adoption agency in that paperwork?”

  “The agency folded less than a year after we’d completed the adoption. The owner died suddenly and there was no one ready t
o take over.”

  Lisa’s heart skipped a beat. That wasn’t fair. How am I meant to track down my parents now?

  “But there’s something else.” Her father took her hands again in his and looked her in the eye. This was a look she’d not seen from him before. The eyes were no longer emotionless vacuums but were brimming with tears. “Your parents died in a car crash just four months after you and Phillip were born.”

  “What?”

  “They’re gone, Lisa. There is no one to find. I’m so sorry.”

  19

  “Can I come in?”

  It was Lisa on the doorstep, drenched to the skin with the rain that hadn’t stopped lashing down since the middle of the afternoon.

  Judy opened the door wide and Lisa stepped in, water already dripping off her onto the carpet.

  “I’ll get you a towel. You’ll catch your death.” But it hadn’t escaped Judy’s notice that Lisa looked a little like she was halfway there already.

  Jemma came out into the hallway as Judy passed on the way to the stairs.

  “Hey, Lisa. Raining then.”

  “I hadn’t noticed.”

  By the time Judy had returned with a towel, Jemma had brought her auntie into the front room and sat her down on the sofa. The Xbox was on, much to Judy’s chagrin, but the console was on the main launch screen. Her friends must have ducked out to do other activities. Jemma rarely played alone, preferring multiplayer over single every time.

  “Have you got your homework done?” Judy asked, not wanting to sound too harsh.

  “Yeah, just got a bit more to finish. I’ll do it now.”

  “Thanks.”

  Jemma left them alone, leaving Judy to drape the towel around Lisa and sit on the edge of the sofa opposite. The woman must be freezing but she wasn’t showing any sign that the wet was bothering her in the slightest.

  “Has something happened? Have you seen her again?”

  Lisa’s eyes sought Judy’s, and they were piercing points of blue. “I saw Dad.”

  “And how was he?”

  “He wanted to give me this.”

  From within the folds of the towel, she retrieved an envelope that she must have had stashed up her jacket on the doorstep. She handed it to Judy who accepted it, her fingers tingling at the weirdness of the situation. The envelope was new, the protective tape over the adhesive was still in place so this had never been sent through the mail. On the front, written in the thin black scrawl of a ball-point pen were the words:

  Lisa’s adoption

  “The adoption papers you were looking for. That’s excellent.” She slipped her hand inside and pulled out several documents, all much older than the containing envelope. These looked official. The topmost had the legend Premier Adoption Services typed across the top of the page in black typewritten ink. There were the postal details, and phone number, Judy noting the Southport address and the Southport number with the missing prefix that had been introduced much later. She turned to the next page and saw a letter outlining the confirmation that the adoption process had been successful and that the legal documentation followed.

  “It’s all he has. I didn’t have to ask him for it. He met me this morning then handed it over.”

  “That’s good. Does it have the details of your birth parents?”

  “No. That’s not in there.”

  “But you can contact the adoption agency and put a request in?”

  “No. The adoption agency doesn’t exist anymore.”

  Judy felt that there was something else she wasn’t being told. Lisa was talking, but it was a distant Lisa, almost a parody of the person she’d known all these years.

  “Have you tried ringing the number?”

  “What would be the point? The place has shut down.”

  “Maybe you’ll get through to someone who can pass your details on. Maybe it got incorporated into another company.”

  But even as she was saying these words, she didn’t believe what she saying. This had all happened years ago. She felt sad and understood why Lisa was here, looking the way she looked. To be so close and yet so far must hurt like hell.

  “There’s something else. Dad said that my parents died in a car crash when I was only a few months old. There’s no one to look for. Dad was trying to protect me at the restaurant. That’s why he never wanted me to investigate because the moment I did, he would have to tell me what I didn’t want to hear. And there goes my dream of finding them. It would have been better to not have tried. At least that way, I could have held onto the illusion that they were doing OK and were missing me as much as I wanted to see them.”

  Dead.

  “I’m so sorry.” Judy didn’t know what else to say. Could there be any worse blow to suffer? Sure, there was always the chance that she would never have been able to find them, and Lisa was in her forties now, so her parents were likely to have been hitting old age, but to have that hope destroyed by the news that they’d died in a car crash was devastating. “Let me get you a drink.”

  “I don’t want a drink.”

  “A cup of tea.”

  Lisa threw Judy a look that silenced any more suggestions. “I don’t want tea. I don’t want anything. I don’t want this bloody towel. I don’t even know why I’m here. This has got nothing to do with anyone else.”

  Judy paused. She’d never seen her sister-in-law act like this.

  You’re reminding me of Phil, she thought. And I don’t like it.

  Judy glanced up at the ceiling and listened for the sounds of Jemma. The only good thing to come out of her marriage with Phil. Years of doting on him, then serving him, then fearing him. And here was his twin sister, in the same room that he’d sulk in, acting in the same petulant manner.

  “You’re right. I’m sorry.” Judy sat back in her chair and waited to see what Lisa would say next. Let her lead the conversation. Adrian had alluded to her poor mental health and she felt she’d seen a hint of that just now.

  “I should go.”

  “You don’t have to. Stay and have something to eat. I don’t think you should be on your own.”

  “You think I’ll hurt myself?”

  “No. But, you’re upset. I wouldn’t want you to feel sad on your own.”

  “I’ve just found out my parents are dead. I’ve got every right to grieve for them.”

  But you didn’t even know them. They’ve been dead for almost as long as you’ve been alive. Harsh. Too harsh.

  “Yes, you have. But you don’t need to be on your own.”

  “I think I want to be, though.” Lisa stood up suddenly and let the towel drop from her shoulders to the sofa. “I’m going. You can keep those. I don’t need them anymore.”

  “I’ll look after them for you.”

  “Do what you like with them. It doesn’t matter. That’s no use to me. I’m not looking for them anymore.”

  20

  After dropping Jemma off at school, Judy drove back into town. She parked up on the promenade, got herself a coffee from the first coffee shop she passed, and strolled along the gardens, thinking.

  Lisa had been right to be upset upon the news of her parents’ death. Just because it had happened over forty years ago, it didn’t diminish the feelings. It wasn’t even knowing they were dead, it would also be having to give up on the dream she’d been harbouring for these years. Without her parents, what could she find out about her background?

  It would not be easy with the adoption company closed, but Judy promised that she would do what she could to help. Lisa had left the papers with her and wasn’t in a good enough place to make enquiries herself, but that didn’t mean that Judy couldn’t.

  She hadn’t even mentioned any more disturbances. It was possible the activity had stopped, but not likely.

  Malc hadn’t had the answers she’d been hoping for and that left her on her own again.

  Half an hour later, she found herself staring at the properties on display in the window of Richard’s estate age
nts.

  “Hello, again.” His voice made her jump. “Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you.”

  “No, I’m sorry. I’m just a bit distracted.” A bit distracted and in need of some company.

  “Come in. Take the weight off your feet.”

  “No really, I didn’t mean to disturb you.”

  “It’s not a disturbance. I’d be glad for someone to talk to.”

  “Not much happening today?”

  “A few phone calls. Got to do a viewing later. That’s it.”

  She followed him inside and immediately felt like she’d stepped back into a safe space. There was nothing unsettling about this simple setup. She did a quick count of the doors, but everything was as she’d remembered. Richard was wearing a different shirt but the same tie. He had a smell of an aftershave she couldn’t place and despite him being a tad generous with it, she didn’t mind it at all.

  She’d thought of what he’d been like at school but again all she could think about was how much he’d been teased. How much of that was me? she thought.

  “So, what’s distracting you?”

  “Oh, just the usual. Life.” She smiled.

  “Anything I can help with?”

  “Not unless you know of any primary teaching jobs going."

  He frowned. “I’m afraid not.”

  “Then I guess I’ll just have to suck it up and carry on.”

  “Having money troubles?”

  Such a personal question, so quickly. Judy found herself not caring in the slightest.

  “Phil’s life assurance paid off the mortgage but it’s a big house. There are maintenance issues around every corner. I’ve just had a quote to replace a section of the roof and it will take quite a dent to the savings. I could do with getting some work before the problem gets any worse.”

  “I’d offer you some hours here if it would help. Wouldn’t be very much, but it would be something.”

  “I didn’t come here asking for work. I know you can’t afford to take anyone on. No, I need to find something more permanent.”

  He sat on the edge of the desk, his leg brushed against hers and he apologised. “You say it’s a big house. Have you thought of downsizing?”