‘Will you stop hogging my guest of honour?’ Max joked to Darren, taking Estelle’s arm. Estelle saw Darren giving Max a hard look, but Max didn’t notice.
‘Lots of people want to say hello!’ Max said, leading Estelle away.
An hour later, Estelle was sat at the large glass table, delicately nibbling on the edge of a goat’s cheese and red onion tart as she looked at the small circle of people surrounding her. It felt tribal, sitting in this enclosed space with all eyes on her as she ate. She’d spent the past hour being grilled about her book and her life in London. There were, of course, also some questions about why she’d left Lillysands so abruptly, but she batted them away by changing the subject. She could tell from the slight frowns on Autumn and Max’s faces that they’d overheard.
When people weren’t asking her questions, she tried to bring Poppy into the conversation somehow.
‘Isn’t it awful about that TV presenter’s daughter who ran away?’ she said, checking to see if anyone responded in an unusual way. But everybody seemed to be acting normally.
Despite feeling like she was back in the arms of Lillysands’ community, she knew they had their guard up. Behind the smiles, they were scrutinising her too. She looked so different; she could see them thinking that as they looked her up and down. Could she be trusted? Was she really still one of them?
Estelle looked at Veronica. ‘All set for the Lady Lillysands Festival?’ Estelle asked, trying to show she really was still one of them.
‘All set,’ Veronica said, smiling as she bit into a cream cake. Estelle watched as the cream oozed over the sides of the pastry, her tummy rumbling in response. ‘This year promises to be bigger and better,’ Veronica continued. ‘We have our last meeting to discuss it on Saturday, how times flies.’
‘Maybe I can help?’ Estelle asked. ‘I know lots of bloggers, journalists too. I could help you drum up some publicity. I’m not sure how long I’ll be staying but can still help from home.’
The woman sitting next to Veronica raised an eyebrow. It was Lorraine, the neighbour Autumn had been gossiping about. She lived in the house two doors down. The only thing Estelle could remember about her was that she had a huge white fluffy dog that dragged her down the road whenever she took it for a walk. She looked the same as she had when Estelle was a child, short black hair and layers of make-up. How did the people manage it here, hardly seeming to age?
‘I have that in hand, sweetheart,’ Lorraine said slightly haughtily. ‘But thanks for offering.’
‘Lorraine runs her own PR firm, remember?’ Veronica explained. ‘Now, about that band we said we’d hire …’
Estelle looked at the two of them as they turned away from her. Maybe getting back in with the Lillysands community would be a lot harder than she thought?
‘I might get some air,’ she said to no one in particular.
She let herself out and walked around the side of the house, heading to a veranda that offered clear views of the marina. Max caught her smoking there the first week of her arrival and she remembered thinking to herself: And so it starts, another set of foster parents throw me out. She’d braced herself for a telling-off but he’d just asked her to make sure she didn’t throw the cigarette butts onto the beach.
As she approached the veranda now, she saw a man leaning over the side, blowing smoke out into the air, a cigarette dangling from his fingers.
Even from the distance, with his back to her, she knew it was him.
Aiden.
Chapter Ten
Aiden still had the same messy blonde hair, same vivid green eyes. But his face was stubbled now, circles under his eyes. She wondered if he’d recognise her.
He turned, sensing her presence.
‘Stel,’ he said, knowing her instantly.
‘I didn’t realise you were here,’ she said.
‘Just arrived.’ His voice was deep, still a slight Devon twang to it. He seemed nervous, like she was. It had been so long after all.
They stood staring at each other for a few moments, memories shrinking and expanding between them. Then Aiden tilted his head, looking her up and down. ‘You look so different,’ he said, smiling slightly. ‘You’re like one of them now.’
‘Them?’
‘A Garland.’
She smoothed her short blonde hair down. He was right. The Garlands were all tall and slim with almost-white hair. ‘Don’t you mean us,’ she said. ‘You’re a Garland too, remember?’
He quirked an eyebrow. ‘I guess.’
He sighed and looked towards the side of the pink cottage.
Estelle followed his gaze. ‘I saw some flowers there. I presume they were for Alice.’
Jesus, Estelle, tell him about the child you had. Tell him!
His green eyes looked sad. ‘Yeah, I put them there every year on the anniversary of her death.’
Of course, Estelle realised. Alice died on the 28th of April. The day Poppy was born. Estelle hadn’t known it at the time, but Alice hadn’t come home that night and her body had washed up ashore the following day.
The anniversary had barely been a week ago and she hadn’t even thought of Alice, her mind so focused on the book launch then Poppy.
This was the first time she and Aiden had seen each other – talked to each other – since Alice had died. Estelle had wanted to call him at boarding school after Autumn had broken the terrible news. She’d even picked up the phone, ready to dial his mobile phone. But she’d stopped herself. She’d promised herself when she woke the next day, she would leave Lillysands behind, leave the Garlands behind. And that included Aiden.
And now here she was, back in front of him, back feeling that roar of emotions again.
‘I’m still shocked she killed herself,’ Estelle said, eyes filling with tears, feeling like she was making that phone call now. ‘Even fifteen years later, I’m shocked.’
‘Me too.’ He frowned slightly. ‘The whole suicide thing just didn’t ring true for me at the time. It just wasn’t Alice’s style. You knew her.’
He was right, it hadn’t rung true for Estelle either. Alice would talk about her mother who hung herself when Alice was just a toddler. She’d get this tough look on her face, jaw set, eyes hard. ‘I’d never give up like she did,’ Alice had said. ‘No matter what happened.’ Estelle had believed her, which made the news she’d jumped off the cliff even more dreadful.
What if she hadn’t meant to die?
A swift wind ricocheted over the cliff and wrapped itself around Estelle now. She circled her arms around herself, shivering. ‘You said her suicide didn’t ring true for you. Do you think she didn’t mean to die? That she—’ She paused. ‘That something else happened?’
Aiden frowned. ‘No, of course not. She left a suicide note, remember?’ he said, but there was something in his eyes suggesting otherwise.
They were quiet for a few moments as Aiden smoked, taking in the view in front of them: the spires of the church on top of the highest cliff, the quiet marina and, above, seagulls glazing beneath blue skies. Below them, colourful houses curved along the cliffside, the reflection of their windows sparkling in the sea below. A couple walked on the beach, swinging a little girl up and down.
Aiden sighed, turning to Estelle. ‘Why are you here? I know it’s not just a passing visit like Dad said in his voicemail. It’s been fifteen years.’ His face looked pained as he said that.
Estelle took a deep breath. ‘I came because I have something to tell you.’
He looked at her expectantly. It took her back in time, seeing those green eyes search hers as they had every day all those years ago.
She swallowed, throat dry. She’d thought over and over on the train journey down how she’d tell Aiden. But the words evaded her. In the end, she thought she’d know what to say when she saw him. And yet here she stood, staring at him – at her past – and it was even more difficult to know where to start.
Just tell it straight, that was what Mr Tate used to say to
her.
So she did.
‘I had a baby,’ she said softly. ‘A girl.’
‘Well, congratulations,’ he said, jaw tensing. ‘How old is she?’
‘Fifteen.’
He went quiet. She knew what he was doing, counting down the years. When it dawned on him, his eyes widened. ‘So you had her when you were fifteen?’
She nodded.
He curled his hands into fists, his breathing strained. ‘And the father?’
She felt sick. ‘I only slept with one person then, Aiden. She’s yours.’
The air between them seemed to swirl with emotions. ‘Mine?’ He looked at her, eyes blazing with anger. ‘But I didn’t even know you were pregnant!’
‘I hid it well the first few months. Then you went away, remember?’
He took in some deep breaths, trying to wrap his head around it. ‘But why keep it from me?’
‘I was scared,’ Estelle said, tears springing to her eyes. ‘I was confused too. I – I thought it would distract you from all your plans and – and I’d decided not to keep her anyway.’
‘Jesus.’ He walked away, raking his fingers through his hair. Then he came back, looking at Estelle with pain-filled eyes. ‘Where is she now?’
‘I – I gave her up for adoption.’
‘When?’
‘When she was born.’
Aiden stared towards the sea, looking dazed. ‘You gave away our child.’
All the feelings she’d felt as she’d handed Poppy over came back to her then. How everything inside her exhausted body had roared to keep hold of that tiny baby, even though her head was telling her it was the right thing, the good thing, to do. And yes, she’d thought of Aiden too, of what he would say if he knew. But she’d convinced herself she was doing the right thing by him too. That didn’t stop the pain she felt though, then and now.
Estelle’s heart thundered. ‘I had to give her up.’
He turned back to her, the anger still there. ‘No, no you didn’t. We could have looked after her.’
Estelle closed her eyes, trying to squeeze away the memories. She’d wondered about that possibility too as she’d looked down at the baby in her arms. Why not give it a go? Would it be so terrible for the child to have her as a mother? She’d yearned for Aiden to be by her side, to make her strong, make her see the right thing to do. The same way she’d been desperate for him to be there as she screamed in pain during labour, stifling the urge to call out his name. But he hadn’t been there and she’d made her decision.
‘Jesus, Aiden, we were kids,’ she said, as she had said to herself then through the doubt. ‘We’d have made terrible parents. I had no choice.’
He took a step towards her, fists clenched. ‘Not everyone’s your parents, Stel. We would’ve pulled ourselves together.’
‘I made the right decision,’ Estelle said firmly.
‘It wasn’t just your decision to make though, was it?’ He shoved past her and headed towards the steps leading down to the beach.
She ran after him. ‘We have to talk!’
‘No we fucking don’t.’
‘She’s missing!’
He froze. Then he slowly turned around. ‘What?’
‘The girl on the news, Poppy O’Farrell. The TV presenter’s daughter who ran away. It’s her.’
‘How do you know she’s our—’ He swallowed, eyes filled with pain. ‘Our daughter?’
Estelle dug her phone out, finding the photo she’d taken of the Polaroid before the police came. ‘I got this – someone sent it to me. The police couldn’t confirm Poppy’s the baby I gave away, but it was bloody clear, just look at her. She looks just like me. It can’t be a coincidence, she must be our daughter. And whoever took her knows that.’
Aiden stared at the photo, eyes shining. ‘I can’t believe this.’
Estelle’s heart ached for him. It was awful to see him like this. ‘I’m sorry, I should have told you.’
He looked up at her. ‘Who could have sent this?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘Who else knew about her?’
‘Your parents.’
‘My parents?’ Estelle nodded. Aiden closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. ‘So they knew I was the father?’
‘No,’ Estelle quickly said. ‘I never told them.’
Aiden looked relieved. ‘What about Alice? Did she know?’
Estelle nodded. ‘Yes. She knew everything … including the fact you were the father.’
‘And yet you didn’t think to tell me, the father.’
‘I – I didn’t want to distract you, you had all those preparations to make for getting into stage school and fulfilling all your dreams of being a musician. I didn’t want to ruin things for you.’
‘Yeah, and that worked out really well, didn’t it?’ he said bitterly. ‘You know I’m a rock climber now?’
‘Autumn mentioned.’
She saw a flicker of pain cross his face then he collected himself. ‘Do Mum and Dad know the baby is this missing girl?’
‘Not yet. I’m not sure they need to know. I’d rather they didn’t, to be honest.’
‘Police have any leads?’ he asked, jaw clenched.
‘I don’t think so. They’re not taking it hugely seriously; kids run away all the time.’ She put her hand out to him, suddenly desperate to touch him. ‘Aiden, I’m so sorry.’
He stepped back, shaking his head. ‘I need time to digest this. Are you staying in Lillysands for a bit?’
‘I hadn’t thought that far ahead. But I’ll stay as long as you need me to.’ As she said that, she knew she would, no matter how long that was … and no matter what Seb thought.
‘Ah, there you are.’ They looked up to see Max watching them, nursing a brandy. ‘You got my messages then?’ he asked his son.
Aiden nodded, eyes faraway as he took in what Estelle had told him.
‘Autumn dug out some old photos,’ Max said. ‘You both coming inside to have a look?’ He raised an eyebrow. ‘Some major fashion errors to witness!’
‘I don’t think so,’ Aiden said, eyes sliding over to Estelle’s. ‘I’m going home.’
‘You don’t still live here?’
‘I might not make much money compared to you, Stel, but it’s enough to get a place for myself, you know.’
Then he jumped over the side of the veranda, striding to the steps leading down to the beach. Estelle wanted desperately to follow him, she didn’t want to leave it like this. Of course, she knew he would be angry. But she’d hoped it would all end with some acceptance, maybe even a coffee somewhere, a sense of closure. Not like this, with him storming away.
But Max was watching her. And how would she explain chasing after his son? So she stayed where she was.
‘As you can see,’ Max said as he watched his son, ‘Aiden’s manners haven’t improved.’ He fixed a smile on his face. ‘Come on, let’s get you inside.’
Estelle let Max guide her back into the house. Before she stepped in, she looked over her shoulder to see Aiden at the top of the steps, watching her. Then he jogged down them, disappearing down to the beach.
After everyone left, Estelle and Autumn sat in the kitchen, nursing hot drinks while Max tidied up. Estelle stared out towards the beach, thinking again of the look on Aiden’s face when she told him. The anger. The disappointment too.
‘Max told me about Aiden storming off,’ Autumn said. ‘Everything okay?’
Estelle pursed her lips. She wasn’t about to tell Autumn the truth. She’d promised Detective Jones she wouldn’t tell anyone and she’d already broken that promise by telling Seb. Plus she just couldn’t deal with two confrontations that day. ‘I think he’s still annoyed I left Lillysands without saying a proper goodbye.’
‘That boy, head always stuck in the past,’ Autumn said, shaking her head. ‘You know, he was a mess when he got back from his first term at his new boarding school. First hearing about Alice, then that you’d left
without a word.’ Autumn peered towards the side of the pink cottage where Alice had jumped to her death. It must have been hard to stay here, not far from where their foster daughter had jumped. But they’d put so much into this house. ‘It hit Aiden hard,’ Autumn continued. ‘It hit all of us hard. Things got even worse between us and Aiden after. Well, you know it was never perfect before then.’
Autumn was right. You’d expect relations between foster parents and their wards would be tough. But it seemed harder between Aiden and his parents. He was always starting arguments with them. Whenever Estelle quizzed Aiden about why he was so tough on his parents, he’d complain that they were shallow, that they cared more for materials than for the natural world around them. But Estelle just couldn’t see it. Sure, they were well-off and liked their little luxuries, but they’d always been so loving with her.
‘Okay sweetheart?’ Autumn asked, breaking into her reminiscences.
‘Oh, just lost in memories.’
Autumn leaned forward, grasping Estelle’s hand. ‘Why are you here really, darling? I can tell something’s on your mind.’
Estelle stared down into her tea. ‘I broke up with my boyfriend.’ Well, it was half the truth, wasn’t it? Not the main reason she was here. But a fact. Her and Seb were history, even if they hadn’t quite confirmed it with one another.
‘Well, that explains it,’ Autumn said, putting her arm around Estelle’s shoulder and pulling her close. ‘Poor girl. He was the Olympic rower, right?’
Estelle nodded.
‘I’m not too disappointed,’ Autumn said. ‘I never liked him in the interviews I saw. Too perfect, too clean, it didn’t ring true to me.’
Estelle raised an eyebrow. ‘Tell it like it is, Autumn.’
‘You know I always do. Were you living together?’
Estelle nodded. ‘It was his house, even though I was paying some of the mortgage.’
‘What will you do when you go back to London? If you go back. There’s some gorgeous new apartments overlooking the sea that Darren and Peter have just developed.’
Her Last Breath Page 8
