Saving Hope: A Billionaire Secret Baby Romance

by Lucy Wild

  Once the boat dropped me off, I thanked the captain before heading into the only town, more of a village really.

  There was a shop-cum-post office, a pub that was also someone’s living room, a church, and a few houses. That was about it. Apart from the stunningly beautiful surroundings. I walked into the shop and the smile from the woman behind the counter was too much for me to bear.

  Whether it was the emotions of the pregnancy or the exhaustion of travel, I don’t know. But whatever it was, it led to me bursting into tears on her shop floor, the old woman’s arm around my shoulders, waiting for me to be capable of answering her questions.

  “Come and have a cup of tea back here,” she said in a thick Scottish accent, leading me around the counter and into a tiny little room behind it. The fire was lit and I sank into an armchair next to it, watching as she hummed her way over to the kettle.

  I took a mug of tea from her a few minutes later and she sat opposite me, still smiling. “So where are you from, my dear?”

  “England.”

  “Oh, dear. Still, never mind, eh? What brings you all the way out here?”

  I shrugged before patting my stomach. “A fresh start.”

  She beamed as she realised what I meant. “I haven’t seen a baby on this island since Sally in 1997. This is very exciting. Where are you staying?”

  “Well, I haven’t got anywhere organised yet.”

  “You can stay here for now, then I’ve a house you might like to see. I’ve been trying to sell it so I can retire but no one wants it.”

  The way she said it was enough to make me cry again.

  That was my first day on the island but there have been many more since then.

  I slowly got bigger, working in the shop with Morag, who became like a mother to me, bustling around, making me tea, feeding me up, making me feel loved and wanted. I had no idea what I’d done to deserve it but I vowed never to take her help for granted.

  She’d told me I could stay in the house until it sold but without a for sale sign or any easy access from the mainland, it didn’t seem likely to sell any time soon.

  The pregnancy progressed until I was almost incapable of squeezing around the counter in the shop. Once I reached that stage, I spent a lot of time outdoors, taking in the air, watching the ships pass by on the horizon, wondering who was on them, what stories they would have to tell about their journeys.

  For the first couple of months of my stay, I was the source of constant gossip in the village but it didn’t take too long before every inhabitant began to see me as their daughter, bringing me cakes and knitted baby clothes in preparation.

  No one asked about the father and I was glad. I didn’t know what to tell them. He was a violent man, as violent as his father. It hurt to even think about them and I did my best to put them in a box marked ‘past’ and then lock it away in my mind.

  But the thoughts crept out when I slept and I often woke up crying.

  When I gave birth, I didn’t stop crying for a very long time. Everyone was so concerned but I couldn’t explain. I couldn’t tell them how hard it was to look at something so beautiful as my little baby girl and think how it was the product of such a violent man.

  The only thing that cheered me was her. She looked up at me with such innocent eyes, I knew that I had broken the cycle at last.

  My mother had met Edward after my father’s death. He’d spied a vulnerable woman with expert eyes, getting his claws into her whilst I was barely aware of what was happening. Some of my earliest memories are of him hitting her, making her apologise, watching her sob.

  Was it any wonder that I ended up with his son? What chance did I have? He’d snatched me away from the farm, taking me with him when I was still little more than a toddler.

  My memory was hazy, it was so long ago and yet some things were clear as if they’d happened only yesterday. He was loading me into the car, telling me to sit quietly next to Jason, his little boy, who proceeded to scowl at me from the other seat.

  He told me afterwards that mum had run away, left us to it. But that didn’t make sense. I remembered her watching him drive us away from the farm.

  But he told me the story so many times, I came to believe it. Mum had left, then she’d died. He would look after me and I should be grateful. If I wasn’t, he might get angry. I should work hard and do what he said or he’d got angry.

  I did work hard and I did what he said but he got angry anyway. Father and son were as bad as each other. By the time I was old enough to marry, he had it all arranged.

  I never thought I could go. It never occurred to me to leave, not until I fell pregnant.

  But looking down at the thin line on the test was like looking into the future. If I stayed, I’d be consigning her to the same life as mine, a life of raised voices and apologies and violence and I wasn’t going to do it.

  Something snapped inside me, something that needed to break in order for me to see clearly for the first time in my life. It was like a blindfold was lifted from my eyes. He’d punished mum by taking me away from her, not letting her see me anymore, her own child. He’d worked his will on her so well she didn’t even try to involve the police. I realised that long afterwards, when it was too late to try and track her down. I didn’t even know the address of the farm, I’d been too young when I was taken from it.

  I left the house late at night, not taking a thing, not wanting to risk waking them. Jason slept on as I tiptoed from the room, avoiding the creaking step on the stairs as I made it out.

  I got to the next town and thought I was safe but someone must have seen me because they turned up at the pub where I was trying to think of what to do next.

  It was funny, in a way. I’d not given a moment’s thought to what I was going to do when I left. Then they appeared and I let them take me outside, let their whispered evil drip into my ears. It was only when they mentioned the pregnancy test that I came to my senses.

  Of course they’d found it, I was an idiot for not hiding it better. They were talking about me coming home and if I didn’t, I might not be able to walk when the baby came. Then they let slip that the child would need to behave better than I did and I lost it.

  I ran. They tried to hold onto me, grabbing my wrists, hands on my throat. But knowing I was protecting her gave me strength. I got away from them. I made it to Rob who protected me. And who I thanked by leaving him far behind.

  No, don’t think about him. You promised not to think about him again. Think about Faith, about the way she’s sitting on the beach next to you, staring out at the sea, dipping her pudgy little fingers into the sand.

  I’d broken the cycle. I might not have achieved much in my life but I had Faith. She was all I needed, all I wanted, or so I told myself.

  I didn’t need a man. It was better to be a single parent on a remote island than back on the mainland and at risk of them tracking me down. They’d never find me here. I hoped.

  I lasted another month before I looked up Rob online. I had managed to survive that long but when Morag left her computer open with the internet window screaming at me, I couldn’t resist.

  I told myself I was just going to check he was all right and then get back to forgetting about him. That was until I found out what he’d done.

  ROB

  I COULDN’T BELIEVE IT when it arrived. Even though I had the letter open in my hand, it was almost impossible to grasp what it was.

  She had written to me. It had been so long, I had given up hope of ever hearing from her again, no amount of money had helped in tracking her down. She just seemed to have vanished off the face of the earth.

  Since she’d gone a lot had changed. I’d stepped down from running the company, finding it impossible to concentrate. Luckily Anthony had stepped into the breach, allowing me to fade into the background. I still felt guilty about what had happened to him. Through not fault of his own, he’d been assaulted, tortured, and then tied up in the boot of a car. It was one more thing to
feel bad about.

  He was doing a fine job, just as I knew he would. The trauma seemed to have no lasting effect on him and he was as focussed as ever. It meant I could spend my time at home. I didn’t go back to the cottage after the police had finished there. I couldn’t think about it without thinking of him impaled on the railing.

  I’d seen a man die. I’d helped put another one in prison. The trial of Edward Lewis had been brief, the testimony of Anthony and the forensic evidence in the car more than enough to convict him of the murder of Harry and kidnapping Anthony despite his strong denial. He went down and I should have been grateful but instead I just felt pity for him. He knew only violence and it had ruined not just his life but also the lives of those around him.

  He wasn’t in prison anymore. He was buried next to his son. Two months into his sentence, he’d died of a heart attack. I didn’t weep over his death. I wept to think that Hope was safe but she still didn’t know. There was no way of telling her she could come back, that it was all over.

  I tried my best to get over her but it wasn’t something that I think was meant to happen.

  I was meant to be with her. The longer time passed, the more I felt certain of that fact. Despite what had happened, despite the fact that she’d left without even saying goodbye, I knew that we were supposed to be together. Our meeting had to be more than chance, than mere coincidence.

  I’d never felt that way about anyone before and it broke my heart to think that there was nothing I could do about it. I’d hired countless people to track her down but none of them managed anything. In the end I gave up hope as I tried to give up Hope. I tried to let her go, turning inward, feeling sadder with each passing day.

  I went over so many shoulda woulda coulda points in my head. I should have told her I knew about the baby, I should have made her stay, I should have called the police and sent them to the cottage, I should have had a better phone.

  It was too late for any of it. I went out less and thought more, becoming angry with the world that had taken her from me.

  When the letter came, I’d so long given up hope of hearing from her that I was sure I was dreaming. It took Potter slapping me across the face at my insistence to make me realise I was awake. The letter was real. She’d written to me. I held the letter in trembling fingers, each word a reminder of the woman I missed with all my heart.

  I knew she must have had her baby. I often wondered what it was like, whether it was a boy or a girl. The letter didn’t mention the child.

  I held it in my hands and read through it again.

  Dear Rob,

  I borrowed forty pounds when I went. I enclose it for you. I noticed you changed the name of the company. I like the new name. Take care of yourself, whatever you’re doing.

  All my love,

  Hope

  I read it and reread, looking at each swirling letter, picturing her writing it. Had she seen an article about me somewhere, that Davies Inc. had become Faith and Hope Inc. I hoped she’d smiled when she saw I’d named it after her. I remembered vividly the conversation we’d had about families, about how she wanted to call her daughter Faith. Even though I was trying to work out what the hell to do about Edward at the time, I never forgot what she said.

  I wanted to tell her I knew about the pregnancy, that I would support her through it. But I couldn’t work out the words until it was too late and she was gone.

  I folded the letter up a long time later, sliding it back into the envelope. I looked at the cover, seeing my name in her handwriting. Then I noticed the stamp, half covered in ink from the postmark. Squinting, I looked closer at the postmark. It couldn’t be that simple, could it?

  I picked up my phone and dialled, waiting for an answer.

  “Rob?” Annie said, sounding surprised. “It’s been a long time. How are you?”

  “I think I need a holiday,” I replied. “I think I might go away for a while.”

  “Okay, what do you need me to do?”

  “Free up the helicopter. Tell me when it’s ready.”

  “How far are you going?” she asked.

  “Scotland,” I replied, looking at the postmark on the envelope again. “An island in Scotland.”

  HOPE

  FAITH WAS PLAYING IN her travel cot behind the counter while I rearranged the magazines. It was another beautiful day, two in a row, a rare treat this far north. Once Morag came back from her lunch, I’d take Faith down to the beach and let her play. It seemed a shame to spend so long inside on a day like this but she was happy enough playing with her few toys.

  The travel cot had come from the mainland, a present for Faith when she started to crawl, to keep her in sight while I worked. It was just on the doorstep when I opened up one morning, no note attached.

  The island had looked after me so well, I felt a warm glow inside me whenever I thought about it. Perhaps it was fate that I was supposed to end up there, a place I’d never even heard of before I sat down and looked at the map while choosing where to go.

  I bent down to tickle her chin as the door to the shop rattled open. “Back already?” I shouted up to Morag but she didn’t answer.

  “Could I buy this please?” a voice asked and my heart skipped a beat as I stood up and found myself looking at Rob, his voice unmistakeable. He was holding a baby toy and he set it down on the counter, acting for all the world as if he’d seen me yesterday.

  “Hi,” I said, no more words coming out.

  “Hi,” he replied. “You’re a hard woman to find, Hope Lewis.”

  I went to speak but nothing happened. I was frozen to the spot but when he touched my hand, the spell was broken and I burst into tears, sobbing into his chest as he leaned over the counter and wrapped his arms around me.

  “I’ve missed you,” he muttered, as Faith began babbling happily. His head twisted away. “Is that…?”

  I nodded, turning to see him looking into the travel cot. “Meet Faith,” I said, bending down and lifting her up. “Faith, this is Rob.”

  “Hello, Faith,” he said, waving at her. “You look just like your mum.”

  The door opened again and Morag appeared, smiling and humming to herself before stopping short. “You came in on the boat,” she said, looking at Rob. “How was it? The sea looked a bit rough today.”

  “Worth it,” Rob replied. “My helicopter was out of action so I had to slum it by sea.”

  Morag looked at him as if he was joking and then at me and then she seemed to realise. “Well, you better go get your lunch, Hope,” she said, moving around the counter. “I’ll take over for now.”

  Ten minutes later, I was sitting on the beach, Faith playing in the sand next to me, Rob sat on a washed up log, watching us.

  “How are you both?” he asked, smiling as Faith spat out a finger worth of sand.

  “All right,” I replied. “What are you doing here Rob?”

  “I had to see you.”

  “How did you find me?”

  “The postmark on your letter. And the captain of the boat knew exactly who you were. It seems as if you’ve made a lot of friends here.” He fell silent for a moment before his face sounded quieter, more anxious. “Why did you go?”

  “To make things easier,” I replied after rejecting several possible answers. “For both of us.”

  “Was it hard? Being with me?”

  “It wasn’t that.” I looked down at Faith and he realised at once what I meant.

  “I knew you were pregnant,” he said, moving to sit next to me, putting an arm around my shoulder. “I should have told you I knew.”

  “What? Why didn’t you say anything?”

  “I didn’t want to scare you away.”

  “Hang on, how did you know?”

  “Remember when I got my doctor to examine you.”

  “He told me he wanted blood to check iron levels.”

  “He checked something else as well. It doesn’t matter, Hope. What matters is that you’re well and so is she.”
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  “I can’t believe you renamed the company after her.”

  “Only right if she’s going to inherit it.”

  “What?” I turned to look at him, not sure I’d heard him right. “What are you talking about?”

  He looked at me in a way I’d never seen him do before. “I love you,” he said, a tear rolling down his cheek. “And I thought I’d lost you forever and I’m not letting that happen again.” He fell silent, still looking intensely at me. “Say something, Hope. Say anything.”

  “I love you too,” I managed to get out before starting to cry again, sobbing into his chest as he held me. Faith glanced up at me, tugging at my leg as if she thought that might help cheer me up.

  “She looks just like you,” Rob said, lifting her up into lap. “Don’t you, little thing?”

  I watched him hold her, marvelling at how good he was with her. “I thought you’d hate me,” I said quietly.

  “Hate you, why would I hate you?”

  “Because of her.” I told him about the father, in as short a version as I could manage, not wanting to burst into tears yet again. It was hard to do it but I told him the truth about what had happened to me. When I was finished he took my hand in his and squeezed it. “You don’t need to worry about Jason or his father ever again.”

  “What? Why?”

  “They’re both dead.”

  It was his turn to talk. He told me what had happened on the day I left and I listened, feeling a creeping numbness spreading over me. I’d spent so long in fear of the two of them, it didn’t seem possible that it could be over, that I was free from them both.

  I knew I should have felt sad, the father of my child was dead. But I didn’t. I just felt numb.

  “She’s your child,” Rob said when he finished explaining. “And what happens to her in the future is up to you. I just wondered if maybe you’d like me to be a part of that future.”

  “What are you asking me?”

  “I’m asking you to marry me, Hope.”